More schedules came and went, and soon it was december 24th. Christmas eve. Cyrielle didn’t pay much attention to it, she hated the festive period with a passion. Julie, on the other hand, called her family as soon as she came back from work.

  “No, I told you that I worked today !... Yes… Well you can ask dad about it… I’ll come tomorrow then ! At noon ? Ok. See you tomorrow !”

  Cyrielle was looking at her friend texting and calling with a bnk look on her face. She probably needed to call her mother too, right ? But somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  It wasn’t that she hated her mother, far from it, but she never told her the situation she was in. Cyrielle hadn’t opened up about her unemployment, the way she lost her lodging, her time sleeping on a dirty couch of a man she wasn’t close to, the multiple rejections of the companies that didn’t want to employ her, and all of the different insecurities and the crushing despair it had brought her. Basically, Cyrielle gave almost no news for an entire year, only providing the basic text messages to prove she was alive.

  ‘I don’t feel ready to talk to her yet. She will probably tell me to come back, right ?’

  Cyrielle’s mother lived in a tiny medieval vilge at the other end of France, almost six hours away from Bordeaux by car. As much as it was beautiful and full of history, it was also quite secluded. For example if you injured yourself and needed to get transported to the hospital, you needed to wait at the very least an hour. Of course, there were no universities around, and as soon as Cyrielle had obtained her BAC, she went to Bordeaux to study.

  Her mom was affectionate and very concerned for Cyrielle, so if she knew what she had lived through, she would take her car and travel all the way to bring her back and shower her with attention. But it also meant going away from Julie and becoming absolutely isoted from the outside world, with no hope of even having a drink at a bar because you needed a car to go to the closest one. It was a life Cyrielle didn’t want to live.

  She sighed and looked at her phone.

  ‘Still… Now I’m doing pretty well. I earn a bit of money, I do things I like, and even if the sleeping arrangement is far from ideal, I’m not on the streets and I can eat three meals a day. It should be enough to satisfy her. But what if she gets mad because I didn’t say anything for a year ? Will she scream because I lied ? If she travels all the way here to get me, what should I do ?’

  Cyrielle’s thoughts were spiralling again and again, and even when she tried to calm down, new scenarios would pop up. Julie easily noticed her anxious look and came to sit next to her on the couch.

  “What’s wrong, baby ? Oh, is it about your family ? You are supposed to call your loved ones for christmas…”

  She was still under the assumption that somehow Cyrielle came from french high society and was kicked out of her house because she wanted to be an illustrator.

  “You know, if they are bad people you don’t need to call them ! Are they bothering you ? Tell me who it is, I’ll kick their butt !”

  “No, my mother is not bad. But she is a bit overprotective, so if I tell her what happened since st year, she will definitely try to bring me back…”

  Julie listened attentively. After thinking for a bit, she asked :

  “Do you want to go back ?”

  Cyrielle sprang to her feet.

  “No ! Not at all !”

  Seeing her so worked up, Julie let out a little giggle.

  “Well if you don’t want to go, don’t. Tell her just that. But I think you shouldn’t lie to someone who is worried and cares for you. I know I would be very angry if you did that.”

  Her eyes carried a bit of a grudge. It was probably about the time Cyrielle had tried to expin to her that she wasn’t a noble.

  ‘But I told you the truth ! Well, whatever…’

  Julie was right, she always was. So Cyrielle took a deep breath, isoted herself in the bathroom, and pressed ‘call’ on her phone. Her mother answered immediately.

  “Hello princess ! Merry Christmas !”

  “Hi mom, merry Christmas to you too…”

  There was an awkward silence. They hadn’t called each other for a year, after all. But Cyrielle gathered all her courage and said :

  “Mom, I have something to tell you.”

  And Cyrielle told her everything. She only wanted to sum up the situation roughly, but somehow the words that had been stuck in her throat just started spilling from her mouth. She recounted everything in detail, even adding anecdotes that had nothing to do with her story, and telling her mom about her friend’s lives and things she had heard about. But nevertheless, she still told her what she wanted to while excluding ‘Path of Destiny’.

  “... So Julie told me ‘You shouldn’t lie to someone who is worried and cares about you !’ and I called you, because Julie is the smartest person in existence, so I need to always listen to her.”

  “Yes, you do. Make sure to always listen to her…”

  Her mother’s voice was shaking. Cyrielle tightly closed her eyes, ready for a violent scolding, but…

  ‘...?’

  Contrary to her expectations, her mother didn’t raise her voice.

  ‘Is she… crying ?’

  The sound was muffled but Cyrielle could definitely hear small sobs on the phone. Her mind went bnk.

  “It must have been so hard… Oh, my princess…”

  “...”

  “You should have told me, I could have helped you ! Ah, but if you had come here, you would have never started accomplishing your dreams… I feel so guilty… If you could rely on me more for money…”

  “...”

  Cyrielle felt her cheeks tingle. That’s when she realized she was crying too.

  ‘I made my mom cry and bme herself. What kind of asshole am I ?’

  She then remembered the vision she had seen with ‘a peek at the truth’. Her taking her own life, which led to Julie dying.

  ‘My mom must have suffered too, right ?’

  If it was really what the events should have been like, ‘Path of Destiny’ had saved her, Julie, and maybe even her mother. This thought made the tears flow harder, and soon Cyrielle and her mother were both loudly sobbing on the phone.

  It took them a while to calm down, and afterwards they ughed awkwardly.

  “I’m probably looking hideous right now.”

  “Me too, mom… Huh ! I’m in the bathroom and I just looked into the mirror, I’m a mess !”

  They ughed more and then went on lighter subjects, new clothes they had, Cyrielle’s schedule, her mother’s job, and finally they nded on the siblings.

  “To be honest, I was aware that you were singing. Your brother told me about it. He saw your MyTube.”

  “Oh no, mom ! It’s embarrassing !”

  “No, it isn’t ! I watched the videos and you look so beautiful ! I never knew you had such a nice voice, otherwise I would have taken you to a singing css.”

  They spoke a bit more and then hung up after promising to have another call for the new year. Cyrielle felt both refreshed and drained of energy. When she got out of the bathroom, Julie screamed in horror. She ran to the fridge to take out some ice and applied it to Cyrielle’s face, trying to reduce the swelling.

  “Did it not go well ? I shouldn’t have advised you to call her ! I was going to tell you that I will be away for a few hours tomorrow, to eat christmas dinner at my parent’s pce, but I think I’ll cancel. I can’t leave you alone when you look like that !”

  Cyrielle patted the anxious Julie, trying to calm her down.

  “I’m alright, it went well. We just had a little heart to heart and ended up both crying. Actually, I feel rexed now.”

  Julie stared at her friend’s face, trying to see if she was telling the truth. Eventually, she settled down on the couch.

  “Ok, if you say so. You’ll be alone tomorrow on Christmas day, it’s a bit sad.”

  But Cyrielle, with a weight lifted off her shoulders, shook her head.

  “Actually, I want to go to the Christmas market.”

  Julie opened her eyes wide.

  “You ? The literal Grinch ? The one who hates Christmas so much ? What’s going on ?!”

  Cyrielle stared into space for a few second and answered softly :

  “I think it’s time to get rid of traumas.”

  She hadn’t seen it, but something had fshed briefly before her eyes a few minutes ago when she had hung up the phone.

  [Accumuting positive karma.]

  ***

  The tram was more crowded than one would expect for a public holiday. The closer you got to Quinconces Square where the Christmas market was, the more people you could see squeezing themselves into the tram car. There were families holding hands desperately, trying not to lose the kids in the crowd. Cyrielle saw one, a little girl, looking confused at the forest of legs in front of her. The mother was calling her name with a growing look of panic in her eyes. Cyrielle shifted discreetly on her heels, nudging the toddler towards her parents. They reunited swiftly, and Cyrielle felt good about herself.

  She got out at her stop and walked to the entrance of the market, passing under the arch. All the stalls were little wooden houses, like mountain cabins, and were decorated with garnds and christmas trees. Cyrielle casually strolled in the aisles, looking at the different foods and occasionally stopping in front of the handmade decor and accessories stalls.

  ‘It’s been a while since I did something like that.’

  Long forgotten memories were coming back. Cyrielle had a father, of course, she wasn’t born out of thin air. But she wouldn’t be caught dead calling him that way, when she referred to him it was as ‘the guy who got my mom pregnant’, or ‘my progenitor’. It hadn’t always been like this. When she was young, and even after her parent’s divorce, her father had always been perfect and loving. It changed when he remarried though. His new wife already had two children and was not ready to accept that her and her kids would be treated differently than Cyrielle and her siblings. They started to bully and harass Cyrielle’s older sister until she was so fed up she went to live abroad. Once she was gone, they had to change targets. And they chose the quiet and anxious Cyrielle.

  One could say it wasn’t the father’s fault, his wife and new kids were the abusive ones, but he allowed all of that to happen. He wasn’t overly violent like the rest of his household, but soft verbal abuse started before he could notice. It wasn’t until Cyrielle got her bookstore job and became independent that she finally had the strength to cut any contact.

  Cyrielle’s father was the reason she hated Christmas. At this period of the year, they made it so obvious. Harsh words at the dinner table, and luxury brands gifted to the new wife’s children while Cyrielle and her siblings got goods purchased at the dolr store.

  ‘I should buy myself a nice present. I deserve it.’

  She looked into her handmade bag, the stylish one with ‘Mademoiselle Cyrielle’ on it, and took out her wallet. Between the concerts with ‘Heavy Protector’ and the drag show, she had quite a bit of savings and could easily afford anything she wanted. Determined to make the most out of this trip to the Christmas market, she strolled down the aisles with confidence.

  “I would like one sugar lemon crepe, and one chestnut cream waffle, please !”

  Cyrielle ate with happiness, indulging in foods she would have never bought before due to ck of money. Her fingers were sticky and she had chestnut cream on her chin, but she didn’t care. With a full belly and happy taste buds, she stopped in front of a stall full of knitted clothes.

  “Hello, I love your sweaters. Did you make all of that by yourself ?”

  The seller, a nice looking woman with a protruding belly, beamed into a smile.

  “Aren’t you Mademoiselle Cyrielle ? I always watch your videos while I knit ! Oh, and yes I did all that with my daughter. There’s a sweater I finished that was inspired by your first interior design video, the Capucine one. Let me find it…”

  She disappeared under the counter, and soon stood up triumphantly with a beautiful top in a gradient of beiges and greens. It was something that fit Cyrielle’s style perfectly.

  “You're a real wizard, how can you make something so pretty ?”

  Inside, Cyrielle was jumping excitedly. But, perhaps due to her ‘elegance’ ability, outside she looked calm, refined, and a bit warm. Like a benevolent god watching her mb with affection. The seller shrinked under the compliment, shaking with happiness. Seeing someone she considered a celebrity genuinely appreciate her craft was overwhelming.

  “I’ll sell it to you for a discount. After all, it was inspired by you so it’s only right that you would have it !”

  Cyrielle shook her head.

  “Please don’t. I’ll buy it because I genuinely like it.”

  It was already way cheaper than a sweater at the secondhand shop, buying it for any less would be disrespectful to that woman’s craft.

  Some time after that, in an a cappel video, Cyrielle talked about the sweater she was wearing, how it was handmade by a very nice woman. This day was the one where the seller’s online store exploded with orders.