The town hall buzzed with life, the kind of energy that made my nerves hum in time with the cheerful noise. The wide garage doors were wide open, letting people spill out into the clearing across the road where the massive Christmas tree stood tall and dark against the snow-speckled sky.

Inside, the tables were piled high with cookies and hot chocolate, the cups topped with whipped cream and crushed candy canes. The crowd was a blur of colorful scarves, bright smiles, and the occasional child darting between adults, leaving behind trails of laughter.

I tried to soak it all in, the way the room seemed to shimmer with joy, but my chest felt too tight. Somewhere in this chaos, Graham was in his Santa suit, doing the very job I had pushed him into days ago.

I finally spotted him toward the back of the hall, crouched down beside a little boy who was chattering away with a candy cane in one hand and a crumpled drawing in the other. Graham nodded like he was hearing something important, his gloved hand steady as he handed the boy a fresh candy cane.

He looked so at ease, like he was born to wear that ridiculous suit.

My throat tightened.

He was leaving early in the morning. Before I would even be awake.

This was my last chance to talk to him, and the weight of that realization hit me harder than I expected.

I needed him to know that I had done it, that I had finally sent in the application to art school. This morning, my hands had trembled as I sealed the envelope, but I had done it. And it was because of him.

Graham had been the one to push me when I needed it most, to tell me I was good enough when I couldn’t see it for myself.

I moved toward him, squeezing past clusters of neighbours who were deep in conversation about Christmas plans and weather predictions. Someone called my name, but I barely heard them, my focus locked on the flash of red velvet near the far wall.

“Five minutes until the tree lighting!” Evelyn’s voice rang out, cutting through the chatter.

My heart sank. Five minutes was not enough time.

I picked up my pace, weaving through the crowd. The air was heavy with the warm scent of pine and cocoa, and my boots crunched lightly on the patches of snow that had blown inside through the open doors.

Outside, the crowd was already gathering near the tree, their excitement bubbling over as the choir began singing another carol. “O Come All Ye Faithful” floated through the cold air, blending with the low murmur of waves lapping at the beach in the distance.

The tree stood tall in the clearing, its dark branches waiting for the moment they would burst into light. It should have been magical, but all I could think about was the clock ticking down too quickly.

Graham was surrounded by a group of parents taking photos, their kids giggling as he handed out candy canes and posed with a grin. I hesitated at the edge of the line, watching him, the words I wanted to say catching in my throat.

He looked so comfortable, so effortlessly kind. When I had dragged him into this, I thought he would complain his way through it, but I had been so wrong. He wasn’t just good at this. He was amazing.

But how was I supposed to get close to him now, with so little time left?

The final strains of the carol rose as the choir’s voices carried across the clearing. The crowd shifted closer to the tree, their boots crunching over the snow as Evelyn’s voice rang out again, announcing the countdown.

I pushed forward, sidestepping a group of kids spinning in circles with candy canes clutched in their hands. The air felt colder now, the breeze carrying more snowflakes as the clearing grew crowded with people waiting for the big moment.

“Two minutes to the tree lighting!” Evelyn called, her voice bright and commanding.

My chest felt like it was shrinking. I was running out of time, and Graham was still surrounded, his focus on the kids who swarmed him with questions and requests.

I wanted to tell him what I had done, that his belief in me had mattered more than I could put into words. He had been the one person who didn’t hesitate to push me forward when I needed it most.

I reached the photo line just as it began to break up, parents ushering their kids toward the clearing as the countdown loomed closer. But when I scanned the hall again, Graham was gone.

I froze, the crowd moving around me like a tide as the carol ended and Evelyn’s voice rang out one last time.

“One minute to the tree lighting! Everyone to the clearing!”

The crowd surged toward the doors, and I felt myself pulled along with them, my heart pounding as I searched for any sign of red velvet or a crooked Santa hat. But he was nowhere to be found.