Jiyong had yet to remove his sunglasses as he walked into the dorm, and it was that visual impairment he blamed when he nearly walked into the ladder Daesung was precariously standing on.

“Hey!” he yelled down, green garland tangled about his muscular arms and shoulders.  “Watch where you’re going, hyung.”

Shaking a bit of snow from his hair, Jiyong gazed quizzically up at him.  “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” Daesung replied, oddly grumpy.  But he appeared to be nearing the end of his decorations: the rest of the den and most of the kitchen were already trimmed with long sweeping arcs of garland, big red bows pinning it near the ceiling.  He must have been up and down that ladder for an hour or more.

Jiyong was unimpressed.  “It looks tacky, to be honest.”  And he sulked off to his room after slinging his new coat on the rack.  He wanted privacy; a simple shopping trip had turned into a madhouse when word got out that G-Dragon was in the store, and he ended up leaving empty handed.  The bag he’d been checking out would have been perfect for his mother, and he considered sending someone from his entourage after it later if it hadn’t been snatched up by some fan who only wanted it because he’d touched it.  Though right now, he didn’t even have the energy to call someone about it.

Opening the door to his room, he exhaled heavily in annoyance.  “Seungri… what are you doing?”

An exceptionally gaudy silver Christmas tree stood half decorated near the windows.  Seungri was eyeing it carefully, a round ornament in each hand.  “What do you think?” he asked, and settled on a low branch for the ball in his left hand.

Jiyong collapsed face first on the bed.  “Get ouuuut,” he droned.

“I think I’ll hang Youngbae’s ornament near the top, or would you rather it be down here?”

“What are you talking about?” Jiyong sat up long enough to snatch the remaining ball from his hand.  A smiling, photoshopped picture of Youngbae adorned one side, with the logo for their latest album on the other.

“Where’d you get these things?”

“They’re from the fans!” Seungri grabbed it back, hanging the ornament on the tree.  “From one of your fanclubs.  They sent us five of them.”

“Five ornaments each?”

“No, I mean five trees.”

Jiyong moaned in frustration.  “The whole damned dorm is gonna be filled with Christmas trees if this keeps up!”

Seungri reached over to Jiyong’s desk and picked up a felt headband with two large plastic antlers attached.  Tiny gold crowns dangled from the points.  “These came in today too.  Wanna try yours on?”

Jiyong answered by smacking the ridiculous thing onto the floor.

“What’s with you, you big Scrooge?!  It’s just for fun.” But he knew better than to persist when Jiyong was in one of his moods, and left him with the mostly tree for the kitchen.  The band’s leader was only able to enjoy the peace for a few moments, however, as Youngbae entered soon after, bearing gifts of his own.

“You’re home!” he announced.  “Good.  You can tell me where you want this.”  Jiyong lifted his eyes from the blanket and saw that he was carrying a very large nativity scene.

“Fan gifts?  Or did you get me this…”

“Hand crafted by VIP artisans themselves,” Youngbae beamed.  “Here, check it out.”  He tossed a wooden Wiseman onto the bed, and Jiyong reluctantly picked it up. 

It seemed normal enough at first, until he noticed what appeared to be the Louis Vuitton logo stamped all over the figure’s robes.  Then, he saw the face.  “Is that… Seunghyun?!”

“Wait ‘til you get a load of the Mary.”  Sure enough, a long streak of black and pink hair cascaded down the side of the Holy Mother’s face.

Jiyong handed both pieces back to his bandmate.  “We’re all going to hell.”

Youngbae placed the barn and accompanying props on the dresser.  To Jiyong’s dismay, he then sat at the end of the bed, in that way that usually meant he wanted to talk.

“Are you going over to Seunghyun’s tonight?  He called looking for you.”

“I don’t know.  He wants me to help him pick stuff for his charity drive and I don’t really feel like going through his closet for him.”

Youngbae blinked.  “But going through other people’s closets is like—“

“I know, I know!”  He rolled onto his back and slung an arm over his eyes.  “Any other time I’d love to, but…”  He trailed off with a deep sigh.  “I don’t know, man.  Maybe I’ll go just to get away from all this stupid Christmas crap.”

“What is with you this time of year, bro?”  Youngbae rose from the bed suddenly and the mattress shifted, rocking Jiyong’s body slightly.  “Ever since we were kids you’ve been a around the holidays.”

Jiyong massaged his temples.  “And every year you feel the need to point it out to me.”

“I think it’s getting worse, too.  When we were trainees it was just like… like you were sad.  Now you just walk around like you hate everything and everyone all December.”  Youngbae was examining the Nativity scene again, as if looking for guidance from the religious knick-knacks.  “Can’t you even try to have fun with it?”

“You’re right, ‘Bae,” Jiyong admitted as he sat up.  He walked around the bed to join Youngbae in playing with the figurines.  “It’s the season of giving…” An arm snuck round the back of his friend’s neck, and Jiyong had him in a headlock in an instant.  “So give me a damn break already!” 

Youngbae wrestled free and adjusted his shirt.  The miniature of Joseph had fallen over in the scuffle, and Jiyong picked it up.  “Seungri, eh?”  He placed it carefully next to the form of himself kneeling over a small manger.  What appeared to be the likeness of his dog Gaho served as the Christ child.  “A Nyongtivity scene,” Jiyong said, casting a weary look at Youngbae, who could only nod in understanding.

“At least it’s not the creepy one from last year, with all of us and 2NE1 as Santa’s reindeer.”

“You’re just jealous you weren’t Rudolph,” Jiyong replied.  “Now leave me alone, damn it!  I’m taking a nap.”

~*~

A couple school girls in thick coats and earmuffs were giggling on the sidewalk near the entrance to Seunghyun’s gated community.  Jiyong wondered if it was always as such, with different fans camped out nearly every hour of the day hoping to catch a glimpse of one of a handful of stars who lived in the modern villas beyond, or if they somehow always knew when he would be there.  Even through the tinted windows of his car, they spotted him, pointing and hiding their faces, one jumping for joy.  He was relieved to watch the mechanical gates close behind him, with the girls on the other side standing in the black slush of melted snow in the road.

Seunghyun was waiting in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled surprisingly tasty.  Jiyong wasn’t sure if he was already in his pajamas at 7pm, or still in his pajamas at 7pm.

“Hey, you hungry?” The older man held out the pan of vegetables and beef across the counter for his guest’s inspection.

“Well now I’m starving, smells great.”  He was reaching for a beer in the fridge when Seunghyun’s phone rang.  ‘Hey Mom!’ was all Jiyong needed to hear to know his fellow rapper would be a while, and he took his drink into one of the spare bedrooms.

Seunghyun’s villa had at least three closets that its only resident had already filled, one of which he had even graciously given Jiyong free reign over to borrow and steal from as he liked.  That was not to say that Jiyong didn’t pillage the other two on the regular, but at least with his closet he didn’t have to sneak.  If Seunghyun wanted him to help pick clothes to donate to his charity auction, Jiyong thought it best to start in one of the closets he couldn’t claim.

The bed was still unmade when Jiyong stepped perilously into the bedroom, toeing through piles of shirts and pants and jackets and everything else imaginable heaped on the floor, radiating from the closet like the evidence of a bomb drop.  His eyes scanned the damage closely, and eventually he zeroed in on a coat he’d been meaning to pilfer from Seunghyun’s collection for months now.  He tucked it stealthily under the mussed bedding for safe keeping.

That’s when he caught sight of the notebook on the nightstand.  Jiyong knew better than to read through someone else’s writing without their permission.  Lyrics, diary entries, grocery lists, love letters, whatever Seunghyun had inside was none of his business.  Of course he couldn’t resist.

Sitting on the side of the bed, he read the open page.  “Dear Santa…”

He stopped.  Had he read that right?  Jiyong concentrated on the first line again, hoping Seunghyun’s handwriting was just that illegible.

“Dear Santa,” it clearly read.

“Dear Santa,

It’s me, Seunghyun.  I hope you’ve been doing well this year. I’ve been reading a lot about climate change and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing for you.  I’m sure you enjoy less polar bears but the melting ice could be causing structural damage to your factory…”

“Holy ,” Jiyong whispered.

“…Either way, I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling it.

Big Bang is doing better than ever.  I’m sure you remember how hard things were last year, and I want to thank you again for granting my Christmas wish that 2012 be different.  Jiyong is staying out of trouble and Daesung is doing a lot better too.  The world tour has been amazing!  Perhaps we should make a stop at the North Pole? Hehehe…

I know you’re busy so I’ll cut to the chase.  This year, I want…“

And that’s where it ended.  Jiyong fell back into the bed, shaking with laughter, his legs kicking in the air.  Was he serious?  He couldn’t possibly be serious!

Footsteps echoed in the hall and Seunghyun came in minutes later, carrying a tray with two plates of food in one hand and a bottle of one of his fancy wines in the other.  “You’ve really gotta help me man, they’re having this auction the day after tomorrow.  I was thinking—“

He stopped short at the sight of Jiyong standing near the bed, notebook in hand, a mischievous and knowing smile on his face.

“You know I have to ask, hyung,” he said. 

But Seunghyun only stared with that clueless look he seemed to have mastered over the years.  “What?”

“This is a joke, right?  Like, this is for the kids at that charity event.  You’re gonna read it to them, or…”  He struggled to think of another possible scenario, but came up empty handed.

Seunghyun gently sat the food on his dresser and crossed the room to reclaim his letter.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  He looked at the page and shrugged.  “My letter to Santa?  What about it?”

Jiyong blinked rapidly.  “So you’re not joking.”

Seunghyun sat down, brows furrowing as the wheels in his head turned in a maddening search for what Jiyong could possibly be so interested in.  “I mean, I guess it does seem kind of selfish to be asking for favors, since we have so much already.  But it’s not like I’m asking for stuff you know, just for him to be good to my friends and—“

“Him?  Him who, Seunghyun!”  Jiyong paced before the bed, his mouth caught in a shocked open smile.  “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

His older band-mate watched fascinated, if totally lost.  “I’m just writing to Santa Claus…”

“I know who you’re writing to!  I just can’t believe I’m actually hearing this right now.”  Jiyong slapped at the notebook in Seunghyun’s hand flippantly.  “You, a grown man, are sitting here talking like you believe in Santa Claus.”

“Believe?” Seunghyun asked, as though it weren’t a question of faith.  “Why would I not believe in Santa Claus?”

“Because he’s not real!” Jiyong shouted.  “Dear god, I thought dealing with the guys back at the dorm with their dumb trees and ribbons and was annoying, but here you are telling me you still believe there’s an old fat guy at the North Pole popping out Christmas presents with a bunch of elves and reindeer?!”

Seunghyun was silent as Jiyong continued his tirade.

“I mean the whole thing’s a bunch of horse anyway.  All these people going out every December to crowd these stores and waste a bunch of money on electronics and clothes and toys and jewelry and all this crap they can’t even begin to afford, so they can pat themselves on the back for all their ‘Christmas cheer.’  Like it isn’t some giant commercialized scam to make millions of dollars on people indulging their consumerist fantasies.  I mean , at least when we’re spending thousands of dollars on useless all the time we’re not deluding ourselves into thinking it’s anything but selfish.  But all this season of giving, Christmas , it’s.. it’s…”

Something had broken within Jiyong when confronted with Seunghyun’s blind faith.  Even as he spoke, he knew he sounded just as crazy as a man who believed in Santa Claus would.  Maybe more so. 

He studied Seunghyun’s blank face, a mask to hide any real reaction to the assault on Christmas he’d just witnessed.  And it only fed his fury.

“Look, hyung:  Santa Claus, and Christmas magic, and peace on earth and goodwill towards men, all that stuff, it’s a farce.  It’s the biggest load of lies we ever let the world tell us.  People are monsters this time of year, selfish little bastards that talk out their asses about generosity and love when they know they’re just in it for what they want, for their piece of the pie.  And you know what, so what if they are!  I’m just sick of having to listen to people lie about it, of watching them pretend they believe in anything more than money and greed.  I’m sick of it, I can’t take it anymore.”

Jiyong waited for a response.  He held his breath waiting for Seunghyun to yell at him, to call him a bitter like Youngbae did every other year when Jiyong took his cynicism too far in front of him.  And words did seem to be forming on the man’s lips, his eyes slowly darting down to the floor as he thought.  But he was quiet.

It was too much.  “Say something, damn it!”  Jiyong had been laughing just minutes before, why was he suddenly so infuriated?

Seunghyun wiped his face, his gentle eyes almost weary in their downward stare.  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jiyong.”

He wasn’t sure himself.  Jiyong shook his head.  “Forget it, man, just forget it.  I don’t know what came over me.”  He stooped to pick up a couple shirts from the floor.  “Let’s just get these clothes together and—“

“Actually Jiyong, I think I’d prefer it if you… would just leave,” Seunghyun stated slowly.  He stood and took the tops from the other man’s hands.  “I can handle this by myself.”

Bewildered, Jiyong huffed.  “You invited me over, remember?”

“I know, but I don’t think I need your help now.  You can go out or go home or whatever, I’ve got this.”  Seunghyun’s voice was free of the sarcastic tones indicative of someone laying the groundwork for a guilt trip.  He seemed genuine.  Jiyong hated it.

“Hey, don’t get all pissy with me just because I had to be the one to tell you Santa wasn’t real,” he spat back with a disingenuous grin, knowing the accusation wasn’t true but finding no other way to save face.  He had dug this hole too deep to stop now.

When Seunghyun ignored him, he threw his arms dramatically and sulked out, slamming the door to the garage for added measure.  Jiyong was increasingly aware that though Seunghyun still believed in Santa Claus, he himself had proven to be the immature one.

He sped out of the gated community in his BMW, resisting the urge to flip off the girls still standing on the corner, huddled together for warmth.  It was Saturday night and he needed a stiff drink, accompanied by pounding music in his brain to drown out the pointless philosophical debate he was fighting to keep out of his thoughts.  He didn’t want to think about Christmas, or Santa, or Seunghyun for the rest of the night.