Chapter Text
“Music isn’t everything,” Jesus said. “People hide their struggles in the most unexpected places.”
They kept moving, from one scene to the next—Trent Lane, sitting alone in his room, drawing and overthinking; Dean Winchester, slumped in a motel chair, staring at a half-empty bottle of whiskey; Fiona Apple, pacing nervously backstage before a performance; and finally, the members of Blink-182, their smiles hiding the exhaustion and pain they’d been carrying for years.
Then came Eminem, standing on a stage, rapping with fire. But after the crowd left, there was a visible emptiness in his eyes, like the fame couldn’t fill the hole inside. Fergie, standing next to him, had a similar look, as if all her pop success couldn’t fix the cracks in her heart.
“Everyone has a side you don’t see,” Jesus said, guiding Reese through each moment. “Even the ones you think have it all together.”
Next, Reese found himself in the midst of a chaotic fight. John Cena was in the ring, his muscles rippling, but his face showed a hint of weariness. He was a hero to millions, but in the silence of his locker room, he was just a man, feeling the burden of expectations.
Then, there was Claire Redfield, running through a dark hallway, her breath ragged from the horrors she’d survived. Leon Kennedy, standing by her side, exhausted but determined. They’d been through so much, yet there was still hope in their eyes.
And then came the most surreal sight: Edward Scissorhands, cutting ice sculptures in a small, quiet town, never truly fitting in, never able to connect.
Finally, there was nettspend looking out of a window, contemplating his next move, unsure of where his life was heading, and Billie Joe Armstrong, playing guitar alone in a dimly lit room, letting the music fill the silence of his doubts.
Reese stared, his mind overwhelmed. “What’s the point of all this? Why show me their lives?”
“Because,” Jesus said with a smile, “your choices affect others. You think your actions don’t matter, but they do. Everyone is connected.”
Then, in the blink of an eye, they were back. Reese stood before Jesus, the white space replaced by a warm, glowing light.
“It’s Christmas time, Reese,” Jesus said. “A time to reflect, to be grateful. You’ve been running from your mistakes, but now you can change that. It’s never too late to find peace.”
Reese nodded slowly. “I see it now. I see how much I’ve hurt people, how much they need me. I didn’t realize that before.”
“You don’t have to fix everything in a day,” Jesus assured him. “But you can start by being thankful for the life you had, the people you love, and the chance to make things right.”
Reese’s heart felt different now—he understood, at last. He had wasted so much time thinking of himself and his own problems, but the world didn’t revolve around him. It was the connections with others that mattered.
“I’m ready to change,” Reese said. “I’m ready to live a better life.”
Jesus smiled, a knowing look in His eyes. “Good. It’s never too late to embrace the Christmas spirit.”
And with that, Reese woke up. It was Christmas morning. He was alive, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something he’d never felt before—gratitude.
This Christmas, Reese wasn’t just living for himself anymore. He was living for the people around him—his family, his friends, and everyone whose life he’d touched, in ways he never knew.
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹