Birch had managed to make the chain pretty long before he messed the end of it up. Construction paper was strewn across the living room of his apartment. Bits were stuck in some of the seams of his prosthetic. He was still on his first chain of purple and white paper, but he wanted to make a few to string across the empty suites. His stylist always opted to not live in the apartments and his escort was off who-knows-where, so he was by himself for this particular holiday.
The paper chains were always something his family made when they decorated the Victors Village for Candlenights. They would string them between the lampposts that lined the street and across the front of their house. It was always fun, no matter how old he got.
He had somehow twisted some of the paper and glued it together to create a very wonky end. He rolled his eyes, the microwave beeping that it was done making some popcorn.
Amidst the chaos of beeping, glue stuck to Birch’s hand and a soft melody of Candlenights music, the elevator dinged open. “Would you mind grabbing the popcorn out of the microwave?” he asked whoever had come up, trying to unstick his fingers.
