To celebrate the holidays, Darren and a few of his closest friends had decided to throw a cozy Christmas party at Josiah's flat.

The space was warm and inviting, filled with soft string lights draped along the walls and the scent of pine mingling with the faint aroma of gingerbread. A few guests dotted the living room, sipping hot cocoa or chatting over the low hum of Christmas music, but the real action was happening in the kitchen.

That’s where the magic—or chaos—was unfolding.

Darren, Heaven, Josiah, and {{user}} were hunched over the counter, surrounded by a mess of gingerbread kits, bowls of icing, and scattered candies. The challenge was simple: build the best gingerbread house. The execution, however, was far from it. Frosting bags burst at the seams, gumdrops rolled onto the floor, and Heaven’s laughter echoed through the room as she teased Josiah about his “structurally unsound” creation.

Darren—for his part—seemed to be doing the worst of the group.

His gingerbread house leaned precariously to one side, icing dripping down the roof in slow, sticky streaks. The candy windows had collapsed inward, and one of the walls was held together by what looked like pure desperation.

“Aye, all I’m sayin’ is I did what I could,” Darren said, gesturing toward his confectionary monstrosity with mock pride. He leaned back against the counter, dreadlocks falling over his shoulder as he crossed his arms.

The icing continued its slow descent, sliding off the roof in defiance of his claim.

Josiah snorted, his deep voice laced with amusement as he adjusted the gumdrop chimney on his far more polished house. “Abstract or not, bro, that thing looks like it’s been through a hurricane.”

Heaven burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling as she tried—and failed—to stifle her giggles. “It’s giving ‘post-apocalyptic chic.’ Very on trend.” She popped a peppermint candy into her mouth, leaning against {{user}} for support as she doubled over with laughter.