775 The Lovely Winners

And here we were again… back at square one, question one.

See, what I wanted from her was obvious, as simple and easy as words from her lips.

The only caveat holding me back from making it as simple and easy—telling her what it is exactly I wished for was, well… did I seriously want it enough to put down and overshadow everything we have done together today?

All that time spent for the sake of fun, intimacy, all the strain she put herself through just to have the opportunity… was it really worth tossing all that aside all to just dredge up some old bitter memories that she herself had already long moved past from?

Time and time again all throughout the day I’ve been constantly pestered by this question, this quandary… and before I thought the answer was to just simply let it go.

But recently I’ve been having doubts about that too. It’s like some mysterious force in the universe kept hounding me to reconsider.

Just stray thoughts here and there at first, then out of the blue, Amelia showed up—my thoughts made manifest. And now? Now even Adalia was urging me to come clean with all the sweet juicy secrets.

I know some folks tend to plead for some divine sign when things get rife. Well, can I do the opposite? Can I tell God to just fuckin’ knock it off for once?

It’s his own Birthday for Chrissakes… show some tact.

.....

“Are you afraid… I will say no…?” Adalia continued to probe, her fogged eyes gazing at me now almost reassuringly. “I will never… say no to… you…”

“On the contrary, actually,” I said, trying to obscure my words in a mouthful of scones. “I’m more afraid you’ll say yes instead.”

In one of those rare instances of genuine emotion, Adalia tilted her head slightly off-center, with confusion and curiosity blending together as one and the same.

But as fate, or should I say, the universe would have it, right at that very moment, every loudspeaker within the vicinity decided it the perfect time to start crackling to life.

“To all participants in our numerous events,” blared a familiar blood-curdling voice in a rippling echo of feedback that shot a tingle up my spine. “Kindly gather at once at the stage located towards the center of the park for the announcement of our winners.”

Well, would you look at that? Literally got saved by the bell. Speaker. Whatever.

“I know you’re definitely not gonna let this go that easy,” I said, already rising to my feet and patting away crumbs stuck to my clothes all while under the intense scrutiny of her watchful gaze. “But can we agree that it can probably wait just until after we go and confirm yours first?”

Adalia took a few moments to weigh her choices, and after a hard-fought battle entirely contained behind the rippling swirl of her eyes, she slowly stood up from her seat and swiped one last crepe for the road before quietly following along in my lead.

We weren’t far from where we were supposed to be headed. In fact, we were one of the first to reach, getting a front-row audience to the very front and center of the stage. The only problem was the waiting, or more specifically, the assembling… as more and more people began to gather and stirred the nightly air abuzz with chatter and noise of all sorts.

Adalia tugged away at her santa hat until it had reached all the way over her ears, it didn’t really help nothing aside from making it look like my arm was being devoured by some big swollen tomato mutant.

Then, for the cherry on top of this busy, teeming sundae, I spotted a trio of bright, alarming colors all the way over yonder, and with them, hovering close by, I saw Hayley’s mute face aligned in a row presumably reserved for the judges all with eyes and focus solely set upon the stage.

So, in the event that we do win, claim victory over this battle of love, to which I have every intention of doing… then I’m in for another fierce and weary battle between the company I keep.

Guess that’s just the price I pay for love.

As the crowd gradually began to swell larger to the point I could feel my shoulders starting to squeeze and tuck, out of nowhere, I felt a light tap on my left shoulder.

“Confident?” asked a handsome face of flowing blonde curls as I whirled around back. “I sure am.”

Leon and his girl stood with their hands entwined, and with all the fervor and giddyness she was exhibiting practically squirming with anticipation, I don’t doubt that confidence is well-founded.

Which just simply makes it all the more satisfying to see him literally stand corrected.

“Said the same thing last time, remember?” I said, meeting his charming smile head-on. “I’m sure you don’t really need a reminder, do you?”

All in the spirit of heated good fun though, as his smile broke into a chuckle, as he faced his gaze forward once more.

“No, I do not.”

And with a sonorous boom of a mic, I snapped back to the front, feeling a sharp, tightening grip around my sleeve, and up on stage, paced and limped a gallant figure of great, nearly terrifying presence.

“A very good evening, ladies, gentleman,” He spoke, every single word clear and imposing. “It pleases me greatly to see the exhausted, tired look on every one of your faces. It tells me, more than anything really, that this special day we are blessed with today, none of you had let a second of it go to waste.”

The tap and clacks of his cane were being picked up by the mic, which I wouldn’t even think to point out if only he would stop pacing with every syllable. Was this a monologue of a villain or our commemoration? I couldn’t really tell anymore.

“But you don’t need me to tell you this now, do you? After all, your efforts, your achievements, tell and state enough on your behalf already. And my, indeed, how much you’ve all achieved. All of you. Please. Take a moment, applaud yourself. You all are deserving of it, and much more.”

No one dared try and defy his request, and after one vigorous clapping of red, raw hands later, all fell to silent, as the clack of his cane started up again once more.

“Yet sadly, only a sparse few of you worthy many will be receiving recognition for all their hard work. The spare few that permeate, more than most, what it means to embody the very essence of the Christmas spirit, those are the sparse few that we shall now unveil in all your festive glory. So without further—let us begin!”

From the right, a familiar ashen-haired elf clambered all the way on top of the stage beside him, carrying in a silver tray, a tall stack of folded envelopes presumably with each winner’s name just waiting to be spread open and read.

Leon’s old man naturally took the topmost from the pile, and with a quiet flutter of the page heard from every loudspeaker, he stamped his cane against the stage once again.

“In the event of most minigames cleared within the hour,” He looked up at the crowd, smiled. “I give you Alex Adams! Congratulations!”

In the midst of tumultuous applause, and the clumsy shuffle of a young teen charging up onstage, the blank white screen behind the stage lit up with an image of the young Alex himself midway through a bizarre game of ice croquet.

Another judge appeared onstage to deliver Alex his award of a bold medal, and a large, teeming bag of goodies that the poor boy struggled to haul offstage, but not before getting the prestigious distinction of a pat on the back and a shake of the hand with the head organizer himself.

This went on for quite some time. With every name called, every award presented, every highlight popping up onscreen, the once high-rise tower of envelopes was slowly but surely depleting to that one, that single unopened envelope, the only one that really mattered as far as I’m concerned.

Every time he reached for a new one, I held my breath for a little longer. And with every event that wasn’t ours, I could practically feel the trepidation grow, particularly heavy on my knees… writhing and squirming in discomfort.

But I was confident. More than I’d ever say out loud, more than I’d ever let on. After all we’ve done, there couldn’t have been any other possibility. With Amelia’s help even on that last hurdle, being the fastest, the most efficient, if not by a mile, then surely by a close margin, right?

Then, as unceremonious as a flip of a page, unfurling the final envelope in the pile—there was another clack erupting in the speakers—and Leon’s dad was beaming his widest yet.

“And in the contest of love, arguably, perhaps the most controversial, complicated contest to ever play arbiter to and not just for the contentious nature of such a task… but for all the variables that must be accounted for as well. Because truly, how does one really quantify the exact worth of one’s love, hm?”

No one in the crowd piped up to offer any suggestions, just pure silence.

“There are countless aspects to such a profound concept, and each with its own nuance and intricacies that could go on and on never really knowing its extent. Indeed, how does one even begin to measure something like love?

“Well, I believe there are certain qualities a blossoming couple must possess in order for a love to last. Qualities such as natural affinity, a balanced mix of charm, wit, and looks, and as well as the mindset of overcoming every hurdle not alone, but always as one together. And with that, ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have indeed found a love that would surely bloom above all…”

There was a brief silence again.

I whispered a ‘please’.

I think I might have heard Adalia did too.

The decisive smack of a cane then resounded throughout.

“Matthew and Kim! Congratulations!”

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