The afternoon preparation for Christmas Eve began not with a carol but with garlic sizzling, onions making eyes water, and the unmistakable sound of three Bluetooth speakers clashing in disharmony. Somewhere, something was definitely burning—or maybe baking. No one could tell anymore.
At the heart of the Gapyeong house, Lexie stood barefoot in the kitchen, apron looped around her waist, streaked with flour and herbs. Her hair was twisted into a bun that had long since given up. The tip of her nose was dusted white, and her hands smelled like rosemary.
"Ethan, love, no running in the kitchen!" she called as her son sped past the island, nearly toppling a mixing bowl.
"I'm getting cinnamon for Lola!" he shouted with glee, feet thundering on the floorboards.
Lexie sighed, shooting her mother a look.
"He thinks he's the sous chef."
"Let him believe it," her mom said, kneading dough like the rhythm came from memory. "It's Christmas. Let the house be alive."
And it was.
In the living room, Alexis sat cross-legged, assembling the foldable table they borrowed from the Lees' garage next door, muttering under her breath as screws rolled under the couch.
Outside, Xander and Lexter were locked in a fierce debate over whether the lights should be woven through the patio railing or draped across it like a curtain.
The Lees, having arrived bearing armfuls of wrapped gifts and groceries, were now fully embedded in the chaos. Woori eomoni took command of the side dishes with surgical precision, her perfectly manicured hands chopping vegetables like a seasoned general. Seungmin abeoji had made himself useful by unjamming the vacuum cleaner while munching the eggnog pasalubong Alexis bought. Matthew, as always, acted like he didn't sign up for this but ended up doing everything anyway.
"Did anyone pick up the extra wines?" Matthew asked as he walked in, dropping his jacket onto a dining chair that wasn't quite stable. "Also—what happened here? I was gone ten minutes."
"Gapyeong-level chaos," Alexis muttered, her screwdriver clamped between her teeth.
"Christmas-level chaos," Lexter corrected from the patio doorway.
Lexie peeked in from the kitchen, spatula in hand. "Matthew, the wines' in the back of my car. Can you grab it? And someone please stop Ethan—he's asking if he's allowed to use the oven."
From upstairs, Woori's voice rang out, "Where's the second rice cooker? I brought ingredients for hobakjuk!"
Seungmin abeoji chimed in, "You mean your rice cooker. The one we forgot to plug in last year?"
Lexie ducked her smile.
At that moment, the front door opened.
Lexie didn't look up. She knew it wouldn't be Mark.
But she hoped anyway.
Her heart skipped anyway.
It was Matthew, holding two wine bags and a look of mild frustration.
"Your trunk is chaos," he announced. "Pretty sure one of those bottles is rolling around back there somewhere."
The room carried on as normal—until Ethan, standing at the table where he was mixing something with his Nana, looked up and asked with wide eyes:
"Is Mark Samchon coming today?"
The question, so innocent and expectant, sliced straight through Lexie's chest.
She froze for a beat. Then smiled the way adults do when they don't want to disappoint a child.
"He's busy today, baby," she said gently. "But he promised he'll try to see us soon."
Ethan nodded solemnly. "Is that why he sent the package?"
Matthew blinked. "What package?"
Lexie cleared her throat and walked over to the table, reaching for the plain brown box she had stashed to the side. "It was on the porch this morning. No return label. No name. Just this."
She pulled out a handmade paper ornament—red and green with Ethan's name written in bold block letters, the tail of the 'N' curling into a little rocket sketch.
Beneath it sat a neatly folded cream sweater, Ethan-sized. Tucked into the collar was a handwritten note:
| "Couldn't make it early. But I'm not missing dinner. Save me a seat. — M"
Ethan lit up like one of the patio bulbs. "He's coming!"
Lexie folded the note and slid it into her back pocket before anyone could comment.
"Eventually," she said with a small smile.
Alexis leaned over to look at the ornament. "Wow. Guy knows how to build suspense."
"Must be all that SM drama training," Matthew added dryly.
Xander wandered in with pine sap on his sleeve, eyes wide at the living room scene: flour-dusted floors, clashing playlists, a precariously stacked tower of Tupperware on the kitchen counter, and Lexie trying to balance a tray of uncooked lasagna with one knee.
"This looks like a Christmas miracle in progress," he declared.
And somehow, it was.
They worked in shifts. Lexie bounced between ovens and pots, her mother focused on Filipino staples like embutido, lumpia, and lechon roll. Woori seamlessly transitioned between Korean banchan and plating desserts with Ethan's help. The fathers handled firewood, lanterns, and fixing things no one else wanted to fix.
Matthew acted as DJ and errand boy, despite threatening mutiny every ten minutes.
By late afternoon, Lexie finally escaped outside, cradling a mug of hot chocolate as she stood on the back patio.
The air was sharp and sweet.
Inside, Ethan had fallen asleep curled up beside Lola, cartoons playing softly in the background.
She checked the time. Again.
Still no message.
And she didn't know why she was checking.
Then her phone buzzed.
Mark Michael Lee🌙🌙
I bet your kitchen smells like 5-star Filipino fusion.
Not jealous. Not jealous at all.
I'll be there before midnight. Promise.
Lexie stared at the screen. Smiled.
And sighed.
* * *
Inside, things had reached peak Christmas-level chaos.
"Where's the tablecloth?!" someone yelled.
"It's in my luggage—wait, no—maybe I left it in Canada?" her mom yelled from upstairs.
"Lola, I saw it in the laundry room!" Ethan called back sleepily from the couch.
Lexie was on her knees under the dining table when she heard Xander's voice.
"Lex! Are you crying under there or fixing the leg?"
"Neither!" she shouted back. "I'm hiding!"
Alexis snorted. "Honestly? Respect."
Together, they brought it all together—stringing the last garlands, polishing silverware, plating desserts. Ethan helped set the name cards, his tiny hands clutching the glitter pen Lexie had handed him like a treasure.
When the house finally quieted down into that magical pre-dinner lull, everything shimmered.
The lights were soft.
The food was ready.
And cinnamon clung to the air like memory.
Matthew sidled beside her with a soda. "So... he's really not coming?"
Lexie reached into her pocket and rubbed her thumb over the folded note.
"He is," she murmured. "He said he'd be here before midnight. But I know too well..."
Even as the words left her, they rang hollow.
She'd heard that before—each time dressed a little differently. A promise over the phone. A text sent mid-rehearsal. A scribbled note like this one.
And she knew what nights like this really looked like in his world.
Award shows didn't end early—especially not the SBS Christmas Eve special. The delays, the chaos backstage, the last-minute camera reassignments, interviews that ran over. Even if he left right after the broadcast, he'd be facing traffic gridlocks, roadblocks, fan clusters, and security checkpoints.
It wasn't just unlikely.
It was impossible.
They both knew that.
And still, he kept saying he'd try.
And still, she kept pretending to believe him.
Matthew gave her a look, eyes scanning her face. "You okay?"
Lexie nodded, more for herself than anyone else. "I just... I don't want this night to be about that."
He nodded slowly. "Doesn't have to be. But if it is, we're all here anyway."
~~ 끝 ~~