Chapter 288: Do you believe in Father Christmas?

[Edward POV]

In Southern California, winter weather is generally mild, ranging from cool to warm, with rain being more common during this season. I went back early from my filming today, around 4 in the evening, and spent some time with my grandparents before sending all of them to the airport after a family dinner. 

"Goodbye, Grandma, Grandpa," I said as I hugged them at the airport. The sky was a bit cloudy, but there were no signs of impending rain. My grandparents embraced me, my grandmother nagging me the whole time, while my grandpa simply gave me a pat on the back.

"Take care of yourself, Ed. You've already missed so much of your childhood. I wish you could enjoy your life instead of working so hard," Grandma Jules said, holding me close. After releasing me, she kept her hand on my shoulder and stared into my eyes. "Promise me."

"I promise I'll work a little less during the holidays," I said, raising my hand in a vow.

"How much less?" she asked.

"Twenty percent?" I replied hesitantly.

"Make that ninety," she countered.

"Twenty-five," I shot back.

"Eighty-five!"

"Twenty-six!"

"Are you not willing to go higher than twenty-six?" My grandma looked at me in disbelief. "If I want to accomplish my five-year plan to conquer the world, then I cannot," I replied with a mischievous smirk.

Uncle Jim, who had become golden brown from tanning at the beach, smiled and interjected, "You're going to be a comic villain?"

"Villain implies I'll be foiled by a superhero. But in this world, there are no superheroes. So yeah, I'm going to be a successful comic villain. The next Bezos."

"Who?" My uncle contorted his face in puzzlement. Amy chimed in, "I thought you wanted to be Batman!"

"The thrill of the double life does intrigue me," I nodded in agreement with her before adding, "But I don't want to suffer. My dad told me to become more selfish, like a villain."

My dad nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I did say that. And I still stand by it."

Frankie agreed with him, but the rest of my family looked befuddled. Suddenly, my grandpa burst into laughter, breaking the awkward silence. 

After sending off my family, Maggie and I headed back to the house. Dad and Frankie went back to their work—at least that's what they told me—but they shared a car, even though they were going in opposite directions.

As my house came into view, I noticed a streak of brown and red in the sky, vanishing in the blink of an eye, just out of sight from my house.

"Hmm? A drone?" I wondered, alarmed, and quickened my pace. Once home, I asked Robin if there were any drones or intruders around, but she confirmed that no one had entered.

"Ed, there's a scroll for you on the desk," Maggie said, her eyes sparkling as she pointed to a parchment rolled and tied with a red ribbon on the coffee table in the living room.

"Robin, are you sure no one has come?" I asked again. "Show me the video footage from the time I was gone."

"What's going on?" Maggie asked worriedly. "Did someone break into the house?" She picked up the scroll and handed it to me. "Open it," she urged. Robin looked confused and muttered, "What scroll?"

I sighed, feeling frustrated. "What if it's laced with poison? Or viruses! Don't touch things that appeared out of nowhere without checking first!"

She rolled her eyes and untied the ribbon. As she read the parchment, her expression turned bored. "It's just a Christmas song thing. You don't have to be so manic about it!"

For Maggie, the scroll was just an advertisement for a supermarket with electronic sales and jingles written on it. 

She tossed the parchment at me before walking away. "And if it had any of the things you mentioned, I would've been dead by now!"

"Some poisons aren't fast-acting!" I shouted after her. "And viruses can take even longer to show effects!"

She stuck her tongue out at me and said, "You're just a paranoid control freak! Bluerk!"

I was annoyed, but the parchment grabbed my attention. I felt a rush of alarm because I was sure there hadn't been anything on the table before. Even Robin hadn't noticed it.

The scroll read:

[You better watch out,

You better not cry,

You better watch out,

You better watch out,

You better watch out…]

The font began in cheerful, wholesome colors of green and red, reminiscent of Christmas. However, the repeated lines took on a sinister tone, written in blood-red ink with erratic scribbles instead of neat writing. This unsettling style continued with each repetition of the verses below.

Better not pout, I'm telling you why:

Santa Claus is comin' to town.

You better watch out…]

He's making a list,

And checking it twice.

Three times. And four times.]

The next part in the verse made my heart beat quicker. It was written with coal, and there were no nuances in the wording. Goosebumps started to appear on my skin, and my back was drenched in sweat.

[He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.

He's gonna find out.]

I took a deep breath before continuing. "Why the hell is this repeated 9 times!?"

[Who's naughty and nice.

Santa Claus is comin' to town~

He sees you when you're sleepin',

He knows when you're awake,

He knows if you've been bad or good,

And every single step that you take.]

[You better watch out,

You better watch out,

You better watch out…,

You better not cry,

Better not pout,

Hold your breath and search for a place to hide.

You better watch your back, I'm telling you why:

Santa Claus is comin' to town.

P.S. He's watching. And he might give you a gift or coal depending on his evaluation of you.]

"Holy shit, that's terrifying," I exclaimed, my heart racing as I read the scroll. Suddenly, it vanished from my hand, and my mind short-circuited for a moment. I even forgot that I was part of a mysterious afterlife organization. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating—or worse, haunted.

"Maggie! Grab Vader! We're never coming back here again!" I shouted anxiously before rushing to pack my things. Just then, my phone rang. I hurriedly answered, and it was Sage on the other line.

"Hello? I can't talk right now; I'm preparing to move out of the country."

Sage sighed, trying to calm me down. "Stop. That guy is just a bit sick in the head. He's not a bad guy."

"Who?" I asked, confused. She replied in a weary voice, "Krampus."

My mind went blank again. Sage continued, "Anyway, it's not a bad thing. So you can relax and enjoy the holidays. Oh, and if you have any conflicts, it's best to settle them before the day comes. It'll work out better for you that way."

She didn't elaborate further and ended the call. Bewildered, I accepted my fate. Vader rushed toward me, rubbing against my legs in an attempt to calm me down. I picked her up and stroked her fur as I headed to the living room.

"Settling my conflicts, huh," I muttered to myself. "Like hell I'm going to do that!"

…

After that brief incident, I pushed the scroll to the back of my mind and focused on a project I'd been cooking up in the lab. Just as I got into the groove, Maggie called. She had gone out with her friends while I was in the basement, so I was curious about why she was reaching out.

As soon as I answered, I heard Vanessa's voice over the throbbing music in the background. "Hey, it's Hudgens," she said.

"Are you at a club?" I asked, carefully placing my soldering iron down and setting the thin glass film on its platform. It was connected to several wires, which I hooked up to the computer.

Vanessa hesitated before responding, "It's just a dance club, not a bar. Um, you should probably come here."

"Why?" I asked, my disdain evident. After a pause, Vanessa replied, "I think Maggie ate something weird. She's puking in the bathroom. You should come get her."

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose in exasperation. "I'll be there."

"Sorry," Hudgens said apologetically before ending the call. I set my phone on the table and connected the glass film to the platform. A snippet of Batman: The Dark Knight appeared on the glass, the quality far superior to the screens on phones these days.

"4K AMOLED screen. I'm only making improvements to existing technology, but I didn't expect it to take a whole month," I said casually, turning on a bright 60-inch display next to the small screen.

An 8K video of Vader playing began to fill the screen. "But I guess 8K is the new thing. Hmm, maybe I can get Granny Saltzman to forgive me now."

With a slight smirk, I let Robin handle the debugging before heading to my car to pick up Maggie.

Dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, I slipped on my brown semi-transparent sunglasses as I drove away in the Lamborghini—rented by the movie studio for filming. They had three of them, so I took one, planning to return it when they needed it for a scene.

After the whole government grant negotiation fiasco over my communication tower, where I chose to work with the government instead of her—despite promising to collaborate—I felt a twinge of guilt for leading her on.

She had spent almost a month in Barbados to cheer herself up, basking in the attention of a group of hunks. So, I figured she wasn't really depressed or anything. Still, I felt bad. 

As her consortium owned multiple manufacturing companies, including one that sold TV screens, I had come up with the idea of collaborating with her to create Smart TVs, Android TVs, and various types of screens for mobile phones.

Despite having access to advanced technology, I was wary of the numerous patent issues surrounding it. Plus, technology could become obsolete in just 5 to 10 years, so I didn't want to spend billions pursuing this route when I was already busy enough.

I guess this is actually a conflict I can settle before Christmas, I thought as I parked my car in front of the dance club. To my surprise, it was called LUX.

Paparazzi crowded the streets, and a long line of young people waited to get inside the club. My heart raced, and I hesitated at the entrance. 'I was sure there weren't any clubs with this name in the entire state of California. How did it appear here, just three miles from my place?'

The club was bigger than I had anticipated. The security and ushers were impeccable but also quite vain. They allowed me to drive right to the entrance because of the Lamborghini before checking my identity.

"Oh, it's Mr. Edward Newgate! Sir, I have to say, I'm a huge fan of yours!" One of the ushers, a beautiful African American woman in her early twenties with dreadlocks, smiled as she flipped through her clipboard of guest names. "Umm… You're not on the list, but you can get on any list if you want to—wait, why am I still blocking you? You should go inside before my boss fires me!"

Maize, the usher, fidgeted the entire time, clearly fawning over me. I removed my sunglasses and smiled at her. "Don't worry, Maize. I'm enjoying our meeting. You have beautiful hair."

"Uff—" Her eyes widened, and she froze for a moment. Then she giggled and touched her hair, a look of determination flashing across her face. "You know what? I found your name. You're on the VVIP list."

One of the security guards retorted, "We only have VIPs—"

"Shut it, Larry!" Maize shot back at him angrily before turning to me with a more docile expression.

She escorted me to the door before leaving. As I entered, I noticed many girls were surprised to see me. They turned towards me, even stopping their dancing as I walked past.

'So far, so good,' I thought in relief, seeing no indication that this was Lucifer's club. They didn't even serve drinks, as most of the guests were under 21 years old.

"Edward! Over here!" Maggie stood up from her booth and waved at me. Confused, I walked toward her and asked, "I thought you were sick?"

"Nah, that was just an excuse to get you here," Vanessa giggled, sipping her fruity drink. I scowled at Maggie and turned to leave. "I'm out of here."

"WAIT!" Maggie grabbed my arm, stopping me. She turned me back and argued, "You need some relaxation. You're so high-strung and stressed that you even thought someone was trying to kill you this afternoon!"

Speechless for a moment, I realized she had a point. "I have a lot of work to do, Mag," I replied solemnly.

"You already took a half day today. So just relax for tonight," Maggie urged. Vanessa stood up from her seat and approached me. She suddenly gestured for me to lean down, trying to whisper something.

As I lowered myself, Vanessa leaned in and whispered, "You know, this place is also a celebrity hookup spot. Everything is private here. Now that you and Taylor are officially over—"

I cut her off. "Alright, I'll stay, but don't ever mention 'celebrity hookup spot' again."

Vanessa smiled sheepishly. "Deal. Just stay here; I want you to meet someone."

"For hooking up?" I teased.

Vanessa grimaced playfully. "No! It's a fan of yours, and I want her to owe me a favor."

"Alright, pimp. But let me make it clear: this whore is having a day off tonight."

"If I were actually a pimp, that line would make me strangle you and blame your death on heroin," Vanessa retorted before rushing away. I chuckled in disbelief and took a seat in the booth.

Five seconds later, a waiter placed a drink on my table without me even needing to order.

"It's a Shirley Temple. Miss Hudgens asked us to bring it to the table whenever her drink runs out, and it's for everyone in the booth," the male waiter explained.

"Do you serve anything else?" I asked.

"Would you like a menu, sir? Ordinary guests need to order at the bar, but VVIPs like yourself have privileges."

"Bring me something with caffeine," I said, pulling out a $100 bill and handing it to him.

"We only have coffee frappe and coffee mocktail," the waiter replied, pocketing the bill. "But I'll bring you a complimentary espresso with the frappe, minus the frappe."

"Thank you for your service—" I looked at him as he said, "Giuseppe, sir."

"Thank you, Giuseppe," I smiled politely. He returned the smile and walked away happily. Before long, he brought back the espresso along with some complimentary chocolate truffles and artisan pastries. "On the house, sir."

It was a rare moment for Giuseppe; it had been a long time since a guest bothered to learn his name. In that instant, he became a fan of mine.

A young girl sitting on the other side of the booth peeked through the barrier and scolded the waiter, "That's not fair! I've been coming here for three months, but you've never sent me free stuff!"

Giuseppe's smile instantly faded, and he became visibly intimidated. I waved him off and said to the girl, "Well, if you want, I can give it to you. I don't like sweet stuff anyway."

If Maggie or Vanessa were here, they'd call me out immediately, considering I'd been stuffing my face with candy at home. The girl, a brunette with short wavy hair and a rich demeanor, smiled as she laid her eyes on me. She resembled a young Margaret Qualley, but I didn't assume it was her.

"Oh my god, it's Newgate! No wonder you got free stuff. Hi!" She extended her hand for a handshake. "I'm Jean Folgers. Like the coffee 'Folgers.' I'm the heiress of the Folgers coffee 'Folgers.'"

"Hello, Jean," I said politely. I offered her some food, expecting her to be satisfied, but she rejected it with a wave. "Never mind. I was just messing with Timothy. We're best friends."

"His name is Giuseppe," I corrected, sipping my coffee. With a shameless grin, she giggled and said, "That's what I said. Um, can I join you?"

"Oh no, you really shouldn't. It's not my booth." I rejected her, but she didn't give up. Instead of walking a few meters to my booth, she climbed over the barrier.

She slipped while gripping the faux grass, and her front slammed onto the table, rattling the entire booth. I quickly grabbed both Vanessa's drink and mine to prevent any spills, but all the desserts were squashed beneath her.

"Ow-wie," she groaned as she turned, falling onto the long chair next to me. One of her legs remained on the table, putting her underwear in full view as she faced me.

"That's gotta hurt," I remarked nonchalantly. She rubbed her sore nose and grumbled, "I knew I shouldn't have taken the giggles today."

"The giggles?" I asked, noticing she wasn't quite in her right mind.

Slowly, she sat up, removing her leg from the table and fixing her shirt. "You know, happy pills. We call them giggles here." She leaned closer, her face inches from mine. "Do you want one?"

"No thanks," I replied, standing up to walk away, but just then, Vanessa returned with her guest: Ashley Benson, whom I had met before. "Hey, Ed, meet Ashley—um, who's she?"

"A substance dealer," I replied teasingly.

"I'm Jean?... Right?" Jean said, pointing at Vanessa, and then suddenly looked at her hand in awe. "Oh my god, there's another one! Waiter, get her out of here!" Vanessa called Giuseppe over, and he escorted Jean out of our booth.

Jean tried to protest, but she didn't have the strength. I turned to Vanessa with a serious expression. "So, this is the place where people come to get high?"

Vanessa was shocked and immediately defended herself, "I didn't do it! Really! I SWEAR!"

"Alright. You're not tripping balls, so I guess I can believe you," I said with a nod before smiling at Ashley. "Hello."

"Ed, do you want to dance?" Ashley grabbed my hand boldly and pulled me to the dance floor. Vanessa grinned and waved at me from afar. "Good luck, Ed!"

"I don't need luck; I'm just here to dance," I retorted.

…

An hour and a half later, we were back at the booth. "Are you guys ready to head home?" Maggie asked, looking tired along with Vanessa. I nodded and said, "Let's go."

Ashley pouted in disappointment. "Aww, stay a bit longer! At least until midnight."

Maggie chuckled. "Sorry, we should head back now. From the look on Edward's face, he didn't enjoy being here at all."

"I do enjoy meeting you, Ashley," I said. She giggled and flirted, "Want to meet me again?"

"Let's just leave it up to fate," I replied.

"So, no then. Awww." She slumped onto the table in disappointment. It had almost been a nice night out with friends—if only we hadn't encountered the next guy.

"Hey, Hudgens!" A tall, freckled guy approached us with two of his friends. He had a smug, condescending air about him—your typical rich mommy's boy from LA.

"Oh, I know this script," I mumbled to myself.

"Leaving so soon? My friends and I are heading back to my house. You should come with us. Leave the dud—"

He froze when he saw me, unable to finish his sentence. He grabbed Vanessa's arm. "Anyway, you should come and give us a private show. We just couldn't get enough of your boobies! I mean, Greg here chafed his dick and had to go to the emergency room!"

Vanessa shook his hand off. "Let me go, asshole!"

"Why pretend to be a good girl? You're a slut, aren't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't send all those nudies to your—"

Before he could finish, I grabbed his arm and twisted it, making him squirm in pain. "That's enough, 'dude.' One more word, and I'll rip your tongue out," I warned in a cold tone.

"Ouch—let me FUCKING GO! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO THE FUCK I AM!?"

"Oh, I'm dying to find out," I said, releasing his hand and grabbing him by the collar. He hadn't expected my aggression, and I could see him visibly shaking.

Vanessa and Maggie tried to pull me away. "Ed, come on, he's just an asshole. You don't need to bother with him," Maggie urged.

"Ed, you don't have to do this," Vanessa added.

Before I could walk away with them, a waiter and the security team rushed over to defuse the situation. As I released the guy's collar, he seemed to regain his bravado, knowing security was there to protect him. He started shouting profanities again.

"YEAH! YOU BETTER RUN! YOU AND THAT SLUT! YOU KNOW WHAT, HUDGEN!? NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE YOU! YOU'RE JUST A WHORE!"

Vanessa acted like it didn't bother her, but I could see tears pooling in her eyes.

"NEWGATE! HEY NEWGATE! DID YOU FUCK VANESSA TOO? OR DID YOU ONLY FUCK TAYLOR!? IS TAYLOR A SLUT TOO!? ONCE YOU'RE DONE WITH HER, WILL YOU SHARE THE PICS WITH US—"

Before he could finish, my fist slammed into his face, knocking two of his teeth out. The entire club erupted into chaos as security tried desperately to separate me from pummeling him. His two friends tried to intervene, and both of them were punched too.

…

The next morning, Pepper walked into my house carrying a newspaper. He sat on the couch and showed me the headline while I stood at the glass wall facing the ocean.

"Heartbroken Pop Star Goes Wild! Brawls at Hot Nightclub After Shocking Split—Exclusive Footage of the Drama Unfolding!" He read the headline in a calm manner. "I thought Maggie is only helping you release some tension."

"Well I do feel better after the fight. I should start a fight club," I said casually.

"No." He vetoed the idea curtly.

I expected him to be angry; instead, he gave me a thumbs-up. "Well, I heard the story from Vanessa. Good job. I only regret that you didn't knock more of his teeth out."

"Oh," I exclaimed casually, breathing a sigh of relief. Pepper chuckled. "Harvey is going nuclear on those news outlets, so you can expect this to blow over soon."

I thought for a moment before saying, "Peps."

"OH, I DON'T LIKE THAT TONE!" He suddenly widened his eyes and stood up from the couch. "That's a 'you're going to make this bigger' kind of tone."

I nodded, saying casually, "You do understand me."

"Yet, I can never really understand you," he replied in defeat.