"If I have to even look at one more Candy Cane, I swear I'm literally going to explode," I said to Alex, jumping up onto the work bench beside him. The elf didn't even flinch at my movement, too absorbed in his work to even care that I just knocked over a prototype copy of the train he was painting. "You are so lucky all you do is paint toys for a living."

"You say the same thing every year, Kenzie," Alex smiled, pushing his half-moon glasses further up his face. The paintbrush in his hand flicked, drawing a red streak across his right cheek.

"Yep, and that's one thing that'll never change," I laughed.

Not gonna lie, Alex was right. I complained about Christmas pretty much every single year. It wasn't always about the same thing, it always depended on what

Papa was obsessed with that year. Last year, it just happened to be Candy Canes, and when you see them all day, every day for a year, it tends to play with your head a bit. I didn't mind it when it was paper snowflakes, I was five and spent several hours a day on the rug in the living room cutting small squares of paper into majestic looking snowflakes. Mama wasn't happy when I refused to pick up the leftovers, but they got cleaned up eventually. In a North Pole kinda way.

Seriously, though, by the time I had turned fifteen, the novelty of Christmas had worn off. As much as I enjoyed getting ready for the festive season, hanging up decorations, putting up lights and drinking hot cocoa in front of the fire, after a while it just wasn't fun anymore. Alex had taken the brunt of my complaining over the years, but I don't think it bothered him too much. Half the time he would zone out and focus on his trains rather than me, understandable really. Not that I was short of people to complain to, they were everywhere.

"As much as we enjoy your company, Ken, and really, we do, but we have three months to complete all our work and we're behind enough as it is," AJ said, peering over the top of his stack of paper, like Papa did when he was reading through the lists. The similarity was seriously creepy.

"I'm going, I'm going. Don't have too much fun without me AJ." I grinned at the elf and pushed myself off the bench, my legs hitting the floor with tremendous force. My legs shook and my knees almost buckled from the force, but I had jumped that hard plenty of times in the past and it had never brought me to my knees before.

"Don't worry, we won't."

With a quick smirk in my direction, AJ vanished behind his stack of paperwork. I had no idea what he was looking for, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was going to be buried under that paper for hours. I shook my head at him, knowing he wasn't able to see me, pulled my jacket up, around my neck and started walking towards the exit. My snow boots banged against the wooden flooring, penetrating the silence with an echo that was almost haunting.

If I could have stayed in the workshop, in the warmth, then I would have, but if I hadn't have left then AJ would have thrown a book at me. Instead, I was forced to leave the warmth and be faced with the full force of the cold winds that blew outside. Snow was falling thick and fast from the sky, settling on everything in sight and making it almost impossible to see. The trees, the paths, the buildings, everything was coated in a white blanket of snow, like the top of a Christmas cake. Visibility was limited, but I knew that landscape like the back of my hand.

Pulling my snowboarding jacket tight across my chest, I started off down the snow-covered path and back to the house, hearing the snow crunch underneath my feet. The sound was relaxing to me - the calming sound of snow under boots, the cold chill in the wind - everything I loved about Winter. Then again, I had never experienced a season that didn't involve snow- even Summer had snow on the ground and bitter chill in the air. For once, I wished we could have a Summer that was sunny. That wasn't cold or bitter - just sunny and warm. How Summer should be.

My boots left deep imprints in the snow, but they were quickly covered by the fall of heavier powder, eliminating any evidence of me being there. I could not wait for the snow to let out, at least then I could go outside without risking frostbite. Seriously, I couldn't wait to get back to the house and curl up with a book and a mug of hot cocoa, that was the life for me.

I reached out in front of me and grabbed the door handle, the cold metal almost fusing to my bare hand. I should have gone out with gloves on. I pushed down on the handle, hearing the door click as I swung it open. Small flakes of snow and the cold winds blew inside, fighting against the heat that glowed from within. Wiping my boots on the welcome mat, I shut the door behind me, welcoming the warmth from the house as it flooded over me. The smell of gingerbread filled the hallways and, as I removed my jacket and boots, I had to resist the temptation to levitate over to the kitchen.

"Ken? Is that you?" Mama called, her head popping around the kitchen door to confirm her suspicions.

"Yeah," I replied, taking off down the hall and into the kitchen, the strong smell of gingerbread hitting me more there than it did in the hallway. In the oven lay several gingerbread men in the process of being baked. The moment they were out of the oven, piping hot or otherwise, I was going to pounce on them.

"What were you doing outside?" Mama asked, throwing a recently used tea towel onto the counter top, narrowly avoiding a pot of icing sugar. "It's freezing!"

"I just went for a walk. I was beginning to see red and white everywhere," I rolled my eyes and jumped up on the counter.

"Don't over exaggerate Ken, it is way too cold for you to go wandering off like that!" she said, before beginning to stack up the ingredients she had used for the gingerbread, putting them in various cupboards.

"I didn't wonder off, I went to the workshop, it's always warm in there," I shrugged.

"Still, with the weather getting as bad as it is, I don't want you going off on your own especially without telling me where you're going." Mama sighed, dusting her hands off on her apron. "Go and get your brother for me, he's left wrapping paper all over the living room."

"Sure, Mama."

With the palms of my hands, I pushed myself off the counter top, taking one last look in the oven at the baking gingerbread, and left the room. When I had left an hour or so before, Nick had started wrapping up the freshly constructed Candy Canes to be gifted in stockings come Christmas morning. I had had to make them, and he had the fun job of wrapping. I so wish we could have swapped, but the oldest always had to do the tricky jobs and the role always fell to me. That child got away with anything and everything.

On my way upstairs, I poked my head around the living room door, only to see the floor completely coated in loose strips of wrapping paper. Sellotape was plastered to the walls and just about every available surface, how he managed to do that I will never know. The successfully wrapped Candy Canes had been lumped into a pile on the table and chairs. He had left the living room in a right state.

Shaking my head, I quietly started to tiptoe up the stairs, going as quietly as I possibly could past Papa's study. The floorboards always creaked because they were old, and if we made so much as the slightest creak, Papa wasn't going to be happy. According to him, he needed complete silence or order to make sure the list was accurate as it could possibly be. Even though it barely changed, no matter how many times he read through it.

By the time I reached Nick's room, there had been no movement from the study so I was probably successful in my mission. Whether Nick would be the same is a completely different story, he always managed to sound like a heard of elephants. I knocked lightly on his door, and before he could even reply, I opened it. "Mama wants you to clean up the mess you made."

"Why don't you do it?" Nick said, turning the page of his handbook without even looking up.

"'Cause I didn't make the mess! You did and Mama wants you to clean it up," I replied, leaning against the door frame.

"I'm busy! Papa said I could go with him later on, I need to know what I'm doing."

Of course, the training sessions. Since Nick was most likely going to take over the family business, you know, being the only male heir and all that, he had to be trained first. Papa had been going over the basics with him for years, but most of it you learn on the job, something Nick failed to understand. I always wanted to have ago. To learn how to look at the list, how to get the reindeer to listen, all the fun stuff. I was never allowed, though. Instead, Mama had to teach me to make Christmas cookies, she said it was expected of me.

I loved Christmas cookies, but the decorating and the eating part, not the baking part.

"You know enough as it, just go clean the living room." I really couldn't put up with his attitude any longer so I left his room before he could reply, turning around and heading into my own instead.

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I collapsed into a heap on my bed, staring up at the white ceiling as I did so. If only I had been allowed to do something like Nick. To go on a later night trip with Papa and see how he flew the sleigh, to at least look at the list, just once. There was nothing I wanted more than to be accepted by Papa, for him to see me as a possible replacement and not Nick, but it wasn't going to happen. The job always went to the male of the family, and I was definitely not male.

As I much as I enjoyed spending time with Mama, really it just wasn't something I wanted to do. I didn't want to bake cookies all day, I didn't want to wait around on Christmas morning for him to show up. I wanted to have fun. All I wished was to have a normal relationship with Papa, but it was never going to happen. Why couldn't it? Why couldn't I be the one to take over the family business? I suppose tradition trumps family, no matter what the situation.

The sound of bells penetrated the silence that filled my room, informing me of Papas movement from his study down the stairs with Nick close at his heels. Out on one of their father-son trips whilst I stayed in my room, dreaming of all the things I could never have. If only things could have been different, if only.

I ran my hands over my face and pulled myself into a sitting position, listening to the sound of Papa and Nicks voices from downstairs. Papa's booming laughter echoed through the room whilst Nick shrieked and giggled like a toddler. I had no idea what was so funny, but I really didn't care. All I wanted them to do was be quiet for at least ten minutes, but that was never going to happen, not with Papa and certainly not with Nick.

Trying to ignore the sounds of their voices, I walked over to the window and opened it as wide as it could go, looking out on to the white landscape below. The snow was still falling thick and fast, but it didn't bother me, even with the cold wind blowing in through the window. Everything was covered in a blanket of white, it looked so peaceful, so calming, but cold and unwelcoming. Like the two things shouldn't even go hand in hand.

"Ken! Can you come here please?" Mama called, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, give me a second!" I yelled back, shutting my window and quickly getting rid of any snow from my window ledge. I knew it was going to melt, but I didn't want to risk it, Mama had a habit of walking in unannounced.

As I made my way downstairs, I began to wonder what she would be calling me for. As far as I knew, I had done nothing wrong and I knew it had nothing to do with icing the gingerbread, even though I secretly wished it was. "Yes, Mama?" I asked, popping my head around the living room door where Mama was shoving scraps of wrapping paper into a bin bag.

"Can you clean this up for me? I have to get the gingerbread out the oven before they burn," she said.

"But it's Nick's mess! Why do I have to clean it?"

"Your brother has gone out with your father. It shouldn't take too long to clean up, and there is an extra gingerbread man in it for you." Mama said, trying to sweeten the deal, a little bribery always worked when it came to getting me to clean up after Nick.

"Sure, Mama," I replied, taking the bin bag from her.

I knew it. The moment I heard Nick and Papa going downstairs. Nick had used one of their stupid training sessions to get of cleaning up a mess he made! And I was the one who had to clean it up. Typical. Just because Nick is to take over the family business in a few years means I get dumped with all the cleaning jobs and he gets to swan around like he's better than me. I seriously didn't know how much more of it I could take. There is a limit to how much you can keep getting shoved in the corner, and I had pretty much reached mine.

Although I had agreed to tidy up, I certainly wasn't happy about it. Even the prospect of an extra gingerbread man wasn't going to help lighten my mood. Each time I picked up piece of scrap paper, I would shove it into the bin bag. Whenever I grabbed a piece of sellotape, I would rip if off the wall rather than remove it gently. I didn't even care if I got into trouble for ruining the wallpaper, I didn't stick it on the wall. Nick did. If anyone was going to get the blame it should be him. I wasn't going down for something he did.

By the time I had finished, the room looked considerably cleaner. Well, it would have been were it not for the wallpaper being torn and the paint being chipped, but there is little anyone can do about that. I quickly tied a knot in the bin bag and left it by the door, knowing it'll be recycled when the elves get hold of it. They could make anything out of everything and wrapping paper pieces was no exception.

The strong smell of gingerbread was still lurking in the hallway and I knew Mama had taken them out of the over like she said she would. There was nothing better than the fresh smell of gingerbread, especially when they had just come out of the oven. To me, it was the smell that reminded me of Christmas. Whenever I could smell gingerbread, I was instantly put in a good mood, glad to know that the chaos that came with the end of the season was almost over for another year. Also, gingerbread was just really tasty.

I practically skipped down the hallway to the kitchen so I could get a good look at the gingerbread men. They were all resting gently on the top of a wire cooling rack, a sure sign that they were almost cooled and ready to be iced. The smell in the kitchen was almost enough to make me eat them right then and there, but I knew I had to wait. To eat an undecorated gingerbread man was a crime in my books, the needed to be covered in icing and smarties, otherwise it was just the shape of a gingerbread man. An illusion to what it could be.

"They're almost ready to be decorated, want to help?" Mama asked, grabbing tubes of icing and sweets from the cupboards.

"Of course I do, I love decorating them just as much as I love eating them," I smiled. Whilst Mama continued to grab what we needed, I quickly washed my hands with our cinnamon smelling hand wash. Just one of the many things that made living at the North Pole almost worth it.

"You take one-half, I'll take the other, okay?"

"Yeah!" Mama passed me six of the freshly baked gingerbread men and half of the decorating supplies, keeping the other half for herself.

I didn't even waste a second before I snatched up a tube of blood red icing and began to draw a little scarf around my little guys neck. The scarf went along his neck and then had a strip hanging down his stomach. I separated the scarf into very small diagonal strips, deciding it was going to be red and green, the colours of Christmas. As delicately as I possibly could, I began to colour half of the strips red and the other green, taking my time to make sure I didn't go outside the lines.

When the scarf was finished, I moved on to creating a little Santa hat on the top of his head. Of course, there was little room to make it stand up and look realistic, so, instead, I used the black icing to draw the tip of the hat covering the body, the little ball hanging just above the white fur on the bottom. With the outline drawn, I then proceeded to colour the hat in, using the same blood red colour I had for the scarf. When it came to decorating a gingerbread man, the details were just as important as anything else. Otherwise it wasn't as fun.

Details sorted, I then added all the extras that gave a gingerbread man his personality. Two blue smarties for his eyes, three green ones for the buttons and, of course, a white mouth. The classic look. Mama had stuck to a more traditional style and had given hers a waistcoat with the smartie details. She had already moved on to her second whilst I was finishing up the details to mine. I suppose going overboard meant it took a lot longer Oh to be an elf. Then it would be easy to get plenty of them done, fast and right.

"You have such an eye for detail, Ken, I'm surprised you aren't painting the toys in the workshop," Mama smiled as I placed my first completed gingerbread man onto the tray next to hers.

"I wish. Papa would never let me, though," I replied, starting the design on my second man.

"Have you ever asked him?"

Thinking back, I had never asked Papa if I could work in the workshop, I always thought he would say no. He was always complaining about needing more hands in there when it came to painting, but could never find a solution to his problem. Maybe, just maybe, he'd let me. If I asked him that is, but with the way he had a habit of telling me no, I highly doubted he was going to let me.

"No, I always thought he wouldn't let me."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask him now, would it?"

"I suppose not."

As I started on my next gingerbread man, I came up with several different ways I could ask Papa to let me paint in the workshop. All of them were as stupid as the next. I was overcomplicating them, making it more dramatic or sappy than it needed to be. All I really needed to do was asking him straight up. But that was a terrifying way to do something.

~~~

A/N - First official chapter of Last Christmas! Eek!! I am so excited for this story you literally have no idea. I can't wait to see what you all think of it either :)

Please drop a comment on your favourite moment from this chapter and don't forget to vote and add to your reading list so you never miss a chapter!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to sandydragon1 who became the first person to vote and comment on his book!

First Published - October 16th, 2016