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Ray was singing again and Brad gritted his teeth as he tried to ignore it. He hated December.“Ray, what the fuck did I tell you about Christmas music?”“To save it for December, which I did, and now you have to let me be happy.” He sounded smug and Brad hated it. “So prepare to get jolly, motherfucker.” It started with the music, but of course it didn’t end there. There was baking. There was decorating — with lights and wreaths and mini trees and fruity candles that clashed with the pine. And so many lights.Then he roped the others into it, and started organizing a holiday party.“Notice I’m calling it a holiday party and not a Christmas party,” Ray said. “Out of respect to you.”“I assumed that had something to do with it being between Christmas and New Years,” Brad replied, not even looking up from his paperwork.“Everyone’s invited, especially you.” His voice was light and teasing, and Brad felt his scowl deepen.“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Brad snapped, but Ray had disappeared around the corner again. Brad had never liked the holiday season. It wasn’t for any specific reason, he just didn’t see the point. November ended and suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped and everyone cared about each other. There were warm wishes and talk about doing good deeds and going out of your way to be nice to people, and Brad didn’t understand why it had to happen in December.Commercials showed people sharing their food or money, or buying each other coffee or meals “because it’s Christmas.” Movies were written around people being selfless and caring about their family and friends “because it’s Christmas.” Everyone, everywhere talked about how your heart should be full of love “because it’s Christmastime.”Conditional caring was fake. If you were a callous asshole for eleven months of the year, you couldn’t make up for it by thinking of others for four weeks at the end. And that seemed to be what the holiday season was all about.That, combined with relentless consumerism and the idea that dreams came true because you found something under a tree, or because it finally started snowing, or something equally ridiculous.Brad didn’t want anything to do with that bullshit. "Look dude, I know you have your hang-ups or whatever, but you should come,” Poke said the day before the party. “It’ll be nice, just a group of us hanging out and shooting the shit at the bar instead of at the office.”“Come on Brad, it’ll be fun. We’ll all have drinks and we can bitch about work without having to be here,” Walt begged the morning of. “That’s all it is. Just an excuse to hang out and feel some Christmas cheer before we all have to work over the holiday.”“I’m Jewish, Walt.”“Oh wait, really?”Nate was the last one to take a crack. And Brad was impressed that someone was pulling out the big guns.“Why don’t you want to come to the party?” he asked. “I’m not going to try to convince you or trick you into coming. I just want you to give me a reason that I can tell the others.” He paused and his eyebrows creased in concern. Just like that he dropped the mask of a supervisor and looked like a friend.“And I want to know if you’re okay.”“Why?”“Because this is a really stupid hill to fight and die on. Normally you don’t waste your energy like that, so I have to assume there’s a reason.”Damn it.“I don’t like Christmas or Christmas stuff. Never have. It’s not a lot deeper than that,” Brad replied, but Nate was scrutinizing him and the pinch of his eyebrows and set of his mouth made him look skeptical. “And I get it, this isn’t about Christmas, it’s just work buddies hanging out. It still feels Christmas-motivated.” Nate lifted one eyebrow. “So, you want me to tell everyone you’re not coming because you’re a touchy, hyper-specific asshole.”“No, tell everyone I’m not coming because I’m not interested,” Brad said.Nate sighed, and Brad was familiar enough with their arguments to know that was Nate giving up.“Fine. Be alone because you’re being a dick.” There was a soft knock on the wall of his cubicle just before Brad was going to leave. He looked up to find Ray looking at him cautiously.“Hey.” Ray must have seen how close Brad was to scowling because he came closer and waved a hand. “I’m not here to bug you about the party. I overheard you and Fick earlier and I wanted to talk to you. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.“For what it’s worth, the party and the invite aren’t just Christmas-related. It’s just that with the year winding down and how useless everyone is between Christmas and New Years it seemed like a good time to do it.”He was frowning and looked unsure then. “I don’t want to assume anything, and I know we don’t know each other super well, but I’ve wanted to hang out with you for a really long time. Not just now. This isn’t some pity-invite thing.”Brad wasn’t sure he was breathing as he stared at Ray. Ray, who was blushing and looking toward the floor, and who had hit the nail on the head.“Nate told you all of that?” he asked, wary because he was pretty sure that suspicion was wrong.Ray’s head snapped up and his eyes had widened. “No! He didn’t say anything to me. I just kind of assumed, from the way you were talking earlier.” He winced a little, which was fair. He was crossing the line everywhere.Brad breathed out slowly, watching Ray’s face. He barely knew the guy, but somehow, he’d picked up on the core of Brad’s problems.“I hate the holidays because everything seems so fake,” he said slowly. “People act like they care just because Christmas is coming and we’ve romanticized everyone coming together and reaching out because of the holidays.”Ray nodded a little. “Yeah, I get that. I kind of like that at least people are giving a shit about others for once.” He shrugged. “That’s why I like the holidays. Maybe it’s for fake reasons, but the effects of the donations and volunteering and good deeds are real.”They were quiet for a moment and Brad turned all of Ray’s words over in his head. He stood up.“Okay, I’ll come to the party,” he said.Ray looked up at him and he seemed both shocked and delighted. “Seriously? I do promise this is real. I really do want you to come. I would even if it was May, or August, or whenever.”Brad smiled a little, at the words coming out of Ray’s mouth and the sincere way he said them. He’d figure out how Ray had guessed about Brad’s hang-ups, and maybe it would be tonight or in a few months, but for now he had something real to hold onto.