Secret Santa

☃︎Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Sɪx☃︎

Jasper frowns when the sharp ringing of his cell phone cuts into his peaceful writing session. Reluctantly, Jasper answers the phone anyway, slightly irritated with an overly-excited Mark.

"Hey, Mark. I'm kind of busy right now," Jasper says, brushing his hair out of his face with his free hand and tucking it behind his ear.

The sound of a murmuring crowd and clinking glasses fills his ears from Mark's end.

"This won't take too long, I swear. But—okay so are you up for a guys night? Ewan, Donahue, Rhys, Aiden, Ben, Jack, and me are meeting at O'Malley's tonight at 7 sharp. Wilfred and Angus are maybes. Wilfred said he might come, but only if his wife would get a fucking babysitter. Angus just said he'd think about it. How bout you? You up for it?"

Jasper glances at the clock on his wall. 7 o'clock is in twenty minutes! Damn, time has flown! And what the hell is Mark thinking?

Jasper sighs. He does need to let loose a little. After nearly eight hours of writing one song that just—no matter what he does, it sounds wrong—is impossible to get right, he needs a break.

"I'll come, but only if you pay for the first round," Jasper relents, standing up from his sofa and pulling non a light jacket. Mark laughs on the other end of the received.

"Okay man, see ya in a few!"

Mark hangs up, and Jasper stuffs his cell in his pocket. He grabs his keys, leaving and locking his house, then hopping in his car and driving off.

Fifteen minutes later, Jasper's walking into O'Malley's. He sweeps the room in search of his work crew. Finally, he spots Mark's frantically waving arm and large, goofy grin. Jasper waves back, wading through the crowd to Mark and the rest of the guys.

"Hey, man! Here's that drink," Mark greets him, handing Jasper a pint. Jasper accepts the beer gratefully, chugging down half of it before sitting down beside Ben.

Ben—the tall, bulky ginger who works in Quality Inspection with April—nudges Jasper in the side.

"Could you down that thing any faster? Geez, man! What's up with you?" Ben asks, taking a swig of his own drink as he turns to Jasper.

Jasper sighs.

"I've been writing the same song for five days now. Nothing sounds or looks right on paper, even when it sounds okay in my head," Jasper admits.

Ben's eyes light up at Jasper's mention of writing a song.

"You're writing a song? That's cool, man! I'm a drummer! Maybe I could help you out some. I know a guy who plays a mean bass."

Jasper considers Ben's offer. He could really use the help. He can't play every instrument at once, and besides, a new perspective could be just what the song needs.

Slowly, Jasper nods.

"I might take you up on your offer. Maybe you could look over the song and it'll talk to you."

Ben grins widely, nodding frantically.

"Alright then! I'll call my buddy up and ask him to help! When do you want to go over the song? I'm free until December 15th pretty much." Ben takes another swig as Jasper taps the fingers of his left hand on the table.

"I'm free after work tomorrow. Do you know where I live?" Jasper downs the rest of his drink as Ben nods.

"Yep! My buddy'll ride with me since he doesn't have a car. Also, he's fresh out of rehab, so make sure there's no alcohol lying around." Jasper furrows his brows but nods nonetheless.

The guys' chat ends as Mark claps his hands together.

"Okay guys, let's play spin the bottle but without the kissing.  Instead, whoever it lands on has to answer who they'd do. Office chicks only," Mark announces, laying his empty beer bottle on its side, "I'll go first. I would do Scarlett and Mary." He spins the bottle, which lands on Jasper.

Jasper's eyes widen as he looks around the group of guys. He just knows that if he tells them who he's thinking, they would go to her and say gross and weird stuff to her. Instead, he opts for, "Pass."

Mark wheezes drunkenly, shaking his head frantically.

"Nope! No passes! Who'd you do?"

Jasper glances around the group again, silently pleading for a lifeline, but everyone's eyes are glued to him, awaiting his answer with varying looks of curiosity and mild amusement.

"I would rather not say..." Jasper trails off as Mark stares a hole in his face.

"It's Pippa, isn't it?" Mark asks loudly, and a raucous laughter fills the air around their table.

"Well, I wouldn't say—per se—uh—not—maybe—I mean, she's—pretty," Jasper stutters out, shuffling slightly as Ben claps a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, but there's not much in the tit department! Anyway, good luck, man," Ewan calls out unhelpfully from the other end of the table. Jasper sighs.

"I'll buy the next round," he murmurs as he gets up.

The guys shout out their poison of choice and Jasper silently commits them to memory, heading to the bar.