Hyukjae had been traveling for so long that he couldn’t remember what having a home was like. It had started on a whim. There had been an accident at the warehouse he was working at during college. Some sort of negligent maintenance had led to an explosion that injured almost twenty people. Some of them were permanently disabled. Hyukjae lost some hearing in his left ear and had a scar on his shoulder from a piece of flying shrapnel. Before even leaving the hospital, he’d joined into a lawsuit against the company, and was eventually awarded a sum of money large enough to live on for many years if managed wisely.

Since his family was doing well enough, they insisted he use it for himself. And as he liked traveling, he thought about doing so, hoping to find inspiration for his drawings.

Ever since junior high, Hyukjae had wanted to draw manwha. He did it secretly in high school, only sharing with a few friends online that had no idea he was a scrawny teenager. To pacify his parents, he majored in business in university, while taking as many art classes as he could on the side.

He was almost thirty now and had been traveling all over the world ever since he graduated college. Thankfully, he had also been able to draw some popular online comic series’ as well, which kept his funds manageable while he continued to bum around.

There were rules, of course. He never stayed in any place longer than three months. Many places only a few weeks. He was safe and careful when he engaged in any intimate activities, as he didn’t want to be tied down, and refused to lead anyone on with false pretenses. It was all fun and games, and eventually he would return home and settle down, though the idea really held little appeal.

As a side-hustle, and a way to force himself not to overwork, he’d also started a TikTok chronicling interesting places and things he found during his various journeys. These ranged from historical spots, famous places and scenic beauties to raccoon cafes, museums dedicated to odd and random things, and statues, like the world’s largest fork.

For most of the current year he had been bouncing around in America. Previously, he had spent time on the West Coast and on the East, so he had dedicated this trip to the Midwest, which proved to be full of inane and endearing attractions. After a few months in Chicago, he was now driving from town to town, killing time until he returned to South Korea at the end of the year to spend New Year’s with his family.

His rental car was due back on December 24rd and he had a flight booked for the following day, so he was hoping to find something interesting to occupy the next few days. To that end he attempted to question the bored young lady at the hotel desk to see if there was anything weird that he hadn’t seen yet.

She was singularly unhelpful, but a fellow guest happened to overhear the conversation and chimed in with, “You should go see the Christmas Shoppe. My grandchildren always love going there. It’s so beautiful.”

Christmas shop? It didn’t sound very exciting, as Hyukjae’s family had never been overly interested aside from the obligatory tree and some gifts. Still, with nothing better to do, he got the address and plugged it into his GPS, wondering what the fuss could possibly be about.

The building did not inspire confidence. Old-fashioned and a bit run-down, the windows were sprayed with some sort of artificial frost with colorful twinkle lights sparkling through. It was centered in a walkable area with a few other stores, restaurants, and coffee shops, so at least he would have something to do once he finished.

Opening the heavy wooden door, he heard bells chiming and glanced around prepared to greet the shop assistant, only to stare in amazement. The walls were plastered with thousands upon thousands of Christmas greeting cards, many of them appearing decades old. Through this entry there was a doorway that led to a regular looking shop full of convenience items and some fresh fruit and vegetables. But the other door led into a massive room packed with Christmas decorations of every size, shape and color. The entire store seemed empty, but Hyukjae couldn’t resist stepping into the wonderland of lights.

And that was how he saw something – or someone – that impressed him even more than the dozens of pretty trees. From the back of the room, a man emerged, dressed in an old-fashioned outfit consisting of white pants, a blue and white patterned shirt and a fitted blue vest. He had an ornament in his hand and was gazing at it with a fond, wistful smile as he hummed an unknown tune. He was also gorgeous, with soft, fluffy brown hair falling across his forehead, his skin a beautiful caramel tone that contrasted nicely with the colors he wore. Hyukjae swore he saw fairy dust in the air, but perhaps it was the lights dancing in the man’s deep, dark, soulful eyes.

He must have been transfixed, because he didn’t realize the man had noticed him, or was walking toward him, until a rich voice called out, “Oh, hello there. I didn’t hear anyone come in. Welcome to the Christmas Shoppe. Are you looking for something? Or just looking?”

“I…” Hyukjae blinked, blinded by the friendly smile. “I’m just looking, I guess. Someone at the hotel mentioned this place. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you!” The smile grew even wider. “It’s my place.”

“Really?” He seemed so young and Hyukjae was surprised that someone their age would have started a store like this.

“Aiden Lee, at your service,” he gave a small bow, and then straightened up looking at Hyukjae expectantly.

“Korean?” Hyukjae asked. With the man’s features and last name, it was highly possible.

“I am,” Aiden nodded. “You too?”

“Lee Hyukjae, and yes, I am.”

“Ah, then you can call me Donghae if you like. Most people around here find it difficult to pronounce, so it’s easier to use the English name I was given.”

“Well, hello Donghae,” Hyukjae couldn’t help but smile. The man might be dressed like a grandfather, but he was handsome and seemed friendly.

“Hello,” The dark eyes were twinkling now. “So, are you a fan of Christmas, or did you come for the novelty?”

Slightly embarrassed, since he had indeed come for the novelty, Hyukjae pulled out his phone and admitted, “I travel around a lot. I like finding unusual places like this. I have a Tiktok channel and do stories about them.”

“Tiktok?”

Donghae appeared confused, and Hyukjae hurried to explain, “It’s a social media platform, you know? People can make short videos about stuff and post them online.”

“Oh, I know what it is,” he laughed, eyes crinkling into crescents. “The kids that work for me are always talking about it and trying to get me in their videos. Do you have a lot of followers?”

“Yeah,” Hyukjae replied carefully, proud of his follower count but not wanting to sound boastful. “A few million, I guess.”

“Wow!” Donghae’s eyes went wide. “That’s impressive. But wait, did you want to film my place?”

“If you didn’t mind,” he shrugged. “It’s pretty.”

“Ah…” The first sign of discomfort entered Donghae’s face, and he glanced around as if deciding the idea. “It’s just that… well, I don’t really want a bunch of tourists coming around. I’ve had some issues with internet popularity before, and it makes me rather uncomfortable.”

“What happened?” Hyukjae asked, wondering if it involved bad reviews or something.

“It’s a long, complicated story,” Donghae sighed out. “Telling you all that would take forever.”

“No to be pushy, but I have plenty of time.” For some reason he really wanted to hear Donghae’s story. He also thought he wouldn’t mind spending more time staring at his handsome face. Not that Hyukjae was anticipating anything happening between them, but it had been quite a while, and if Donghae were at all interested, he certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity.

“Well… it is past lunchtime, and I haven’t eaten yet. Would you…” another hesitation, with Donghae’s expression turning pensive but hopeful, “would you like to join me for lunch? The rush should be over by now and we could get a table next door. Perhaps if you hear my story, you’ll understand my reluctance.”

“Sure,” Hyukjae relaxed and gave the other man a smile. “Why not?”

***

The story didn’t come out all at once. When they entered the small restaurant next door, everyone seemed to want to say hello to Donghae, and thanks to proximity, Hyukjae as well. Many of the patrons assumed he was Donghae’s friend, and the other man didn’t bother to dissuade them, simply telling everyone that Hyuk was visiting for a few days.

When the two men eventually sat down and had placed their orders, Donghae was the one to ask, “So what brings you here, Hyukjae? Not that it’s a bad thing, but this is a quiet town and not on the top of anyone’s tourist destination list.”

“No reason,” Hyukjae answered casually. “I like to travel, and as I said, I think it’s fun to stop and see interesting things. I’m flying home soon, so I was just driving around to see what I found.”

“This is about it,” Donghae laughed happily. “Just a typical Midwest town with a crazy Christmas museum.”

“Yeah, about that… so, the Christmas part isn’t a store? Just like, a collection? How did that come about? Some of that stuff looked pretty old.”

“Right,” Donghae sighed. “Well, it started a long time ago, actually. Twenty-four years ago, in fact.”

“Is that when you were born?” Hyukjae teased, thinking this story was already sounding like a flashback in a drama.

“Me? No, I’m twenty-nine.”

“Really? So am I! You look younger.”

“Thanks, I guess. People always said I have a baby face. Lots of people still treat me like a baby, too, but I know they mean well.”

“My parents and sister do the same with me. Being a grown man means nothing to family.”

“Sure,” Donghae uttered, but the smile on his face faded.

“So, twenty-four years ago?” Hyukjae offered, hoping to distract him back to the story.

“Oh, yes. Well, I was born in South Korea, but when I was about four, I got sick. Turned out to be an extremely rare kind of cancer. My parents tried their best, took me to all different doctors, but none of the treatments helped. One of my doctors had studied with an oncologist here in the States and he contacted him for advice. In the end, they brought me here to try an experimental treatment.”

“It worked.”

“Clearly,” Donghae smiled sadly. “My mother came with me. She stayed for a while, but there were problems with her visa and my family didn’t have much money. Basically, it cost everything they had just to bring me here. After a few months, she had to go back to Korea. I was in the hospital, still very sick, but the doctor and his wife agreed to look after me until my mom could get back.”

“That must have been scary. Especially with you being so young.”

“It was. I didn’t speak the language; I barely knew anyone except nurses and the doctor and his wife. But I was so sick I hardly cared. I slept a lot and watched TV. The treatment wasn’t showing the results they hoped for and though I didn’t know it at the time, they had little hope that I would survive past age five.”

“Damn.”

“I missed my parents so much, especially my mom. I had to celebrate my birthday in the hospital alone. They tried to call my parents, but no one answered. When Christmas rolled around, I was so sick, but I loved Christmas. It had always been my favorite holiday. They didn’t expect me to live more than a few months, so the doctor’s wife decided to make it a special day for me. She asked me what I wanted the most. There’s a foundation here in America that grants dying wishes to children. All I could think about was my family, but in my broken English, what I said was ‘I want to spend Christmas with the whole world.’ I meant my world, my family, but she interpreted it differently.”

“How so?”

“She contacted that foundation and gave them all my info. And they put out a call on their website and newsletters encouraging people to send cards and gifts to a little dying boy who wanted to experience one last Christmas with as many people as possible.”

“Oh wow. Hey! All those old cards in your store, are those from back then?”

“A lot of them, yes. It was quite amazing, really. Even as a child I was touched that so many people would be interested in me. But I cried the whole day on Christmas because all I wanted was my mother and father and I couldn’t even talk to them.”

“What happened then?”

Letting out a sigh, Donghae flashed a melancholy smile and continued, “I got better. It was a few months later. The treatment finally started working. I had chemo later and a few surgeries, but I’ve been cancer free ever since.”

“And the Christmas store?”

“Well, the letters kept coming for a few years after that. People saw the post online and didn’t realize the date. It died down for a while after that, until I was a teenager and somehow that old post went viral again. Suddenly, I was receiving more gifts and cards. They even sent a reporter to tell my story. Which was quite embarrassing since I wasn’t a little child anymore. We tried to get the post taken down, but people still come across it even now. I’ve just gotten used to it. It gives me faith in the basic compassion of humanity.”

“So, all that stuff in the shop, those were gifts?”

“The majority of it, yes.”

“And you stayed in the states? Were your parents finally able to move here?” Hyukjae asked the question a bit breathlessly, fully invested in the unusual tale. But the instant drop of Donghae’s face told him he’d made a mistake.

“I never saw them again.”

“What? Why? How?”

“I don’t know. It was so long ago. When I started to get better, they tried over and over to contact my parents in Korea. Things were different back then, you know? It was the 1990’s. My parents were poor, they didn’t own a cellphone, and I know we moved around a lot. When they realized I was alone, the Doctor and his wife decided to adopt me and raise me here. They were wonderful people; I can’t complain about the life they provided me with.”

“Still…” Hyukjae shook his head sadly. He couldn’t imagine how scared and lonely Donghae must have been. “Have you ever tried looking for them now?”

“Why?”

“Because, they’re your family?”

“They never tried to contact me, though. They had ways to find me if they wanted to. The doctor that sent me here could have called my adoptive father to find out what happened to me. I don’t even know if they’re alive.”

“Wow, Donghae, I’m sorry. That… it , really.”

“It’s okay. My adoptive parents loved me. And I loved them, too. They took really good care of me. They couldn’t have children of their own, so I was a little miracle and they spoiled me rotten.”

The way Donghae had phrased his last few sentences gave Hyukjae pause, and the melancholy expression in the other man’s eyes hinted