The Christmas Eve bells were about to ring. The square was packed with people, laughter echoing under falling snow.

You stood in the crowd, hands in your pockets, nose red from the cold. This year’s Christmas tree was massive—three stories tall, wrapped in red ribbons. The star on top hadn’t lit up yet.

Someone was supposed to be here with you.

You looked at your phone. Your boyfriend promised he’d be here, to watch the brightest tree in the city with you.

Then a message popped up: “I think we should break up. You’re too sensitive. Too much. I’m sorry.”

You froze. Slowly, your eyes welled up, the lights around you blurring. Behind you, the crowd started counting down:

“10—9—8—”

You locked your phone, forcing a weak smile.

“7—6—5—”

You lowered your head, hiding your tears. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. Why it was always like this.

“4—3—2—1!”

Cheers erupted. The curtain dropped. The massive tree lit up in gold and red. Fireworks exploded overhead. You looked up, tears shining in your eyes, watching the golden star atop the tree.

You whispered in your heart: “Santa… can I have someone real this time? Someone who’ll stay?”

A cold wind swept past. You lowered your gaze—

And saw him.

A man in a skull mask stood across the plaza, still and silent in the snow. His eyes followed the lights—until they met yours.

He didn’t move. He didn’t smile. But he saw you.

You stared back, tears on your cheeks.

You didn’t know who he was. But for a moment, it felt like your wish had been heard.