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“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard it,” Poe said, staring at Ben in disbelief. “It’s a classic. A staple of 80s AND Christmas pop culture. You have to have heard it.” He continued to stare, until a beep from his computer signaled he was still at work.
Ben shrugged noncommittally. He’d never been a huge fan of Christmas, and after working in retail during his college years, his brain would automatically shut down at the first notes of Mariah Carey’s distinct vocalization of “All I Want for Christmas.”
“I don’t know, maybe?” Ben shrugged again. “So what’s the big deal about the song?”
“It’s not just the song, it’s being able to avoid it,” Poe said, turning back to Ben with an exasperated gesture, as if Ben were a five year old asking why he couldn’t just go to school without pants.
“I don’t get it,” Ben said. He’d been working next to Poe for the last six years. He had met his wife, Poe’s sister Rey, through him, and they’d been a part of each other’s lives almost daily ever since.
And, almost daily, Poe said one thing or another that was over Ben’s head, out of his wheelhouse, or completely incomprehensible. Half the time Ben felt like Poe made this shit up to screw with him. Why should today be any different?
“I’ve never once heard you mention this,” he grumbled over his shoulder, clacking away at his keyboard in swift, practiced movements. “Ever.”
“Well you’re not exactly up on all the current pop culture references, boomer.”
“We’re the same age, asshole. And how can you consider Wham to be current? George Michael has been d—“
“Don’t you say it,” Poe interjected. “I won’t tolerate the disrespect.”
“You’re weird.”
“You’re weird for not knowing what Whamageddon is.”
“Explain it to me like I’m five.”
“I already explained it to you like you’re five.”
“Four then.”
Poe snorted back a laugh in response. “You’re admitting you have the listening comprehension of a preschooler?”
“I could just ignore you and not play your game.”
“Fine. Okay.” Poe waited for Ben to turn around in his desk chair before he puffed himself up as if he were in a lecture hall explaining the Classics to college freshmen.
“Whamageddon. It’s the age-old test of endurance—“
“Age-old?”
“If you keep interrupting me I’ll just have to start from the beginning.”
“So sorry. Please continue,” Ben said, rolling his eyes at Poe’s drama.
“The game starts on December first. You go as long as you can without hearing the Wham version of the song. If you hear—“
“There are other versions?”
“Yes. Shut up. If you hear the Wham version and recognize it, you’re out. If you make it to Christmas without hearing it, you win.”
“What do I win?”
“What do you mean? You—you win the game.”
“Okay,” Ben said, dragging out the second syllable. “What is the prize for winning?”
Poe frowned and looked for a moment like he didn’t understand the question before he answered, “There is no prize. You just win.”
“Sounds like a shitty game,” Ben scoffed, turning back around to face his computer monitor.
“It’s—you don’t—bragging rights,” Poe sputtered, disbelief ringing through their cubicle.
“Seems like it would be more interesting if there were a prize involved,” Ben suggested. He knew Poe couldn’t resist a challenge. It had been a while since they’d made any bets, since Rey was not a fan of how the two acted once they started.
The taunting, arguing, and double-or-nothing confrontations came to a head on the last Super Bowl Sunday, when her overzealous husband and brother ruined her carpet by spilling a bowl of guacamole during an argument over point spreads at halftime.
Since then, Rey put a moratorium on betting of any kind between the two. Ben figured since it had been ten months, Rey probably wouldn’t even notice if they kept it between themselves.
“What are you suggesting?” Poe asked, taking the bait. Ben grinned mischievously.
“A hundred bucks says I can outlast you,” Ben said with the misplaced confidence of a man whose wife was basically a Christmas elf from November first until midnight December 25th. Cookies, music, Hallmark movies, and decorations—so many decorations, filled their modest home.
Knowing full well just how much his sister adored the holiday, Poe was absolutely certain his win was assured. It was in the bag—or the pocket as the case may be. Naturally, he had to up the ante.
“Make it two.”
Ben chuckled. “You think Finn is gonna let you get away with losing two hundred dollars so close to your New Year’s trip?”
“I think my husband is going to be overjoyed with the extra two hundred dollars in spending money that he’ll have,” Poe taunted.
Ben was quiet for a moment, staring down his brother-in-law, before nodding.
“You’re on.”
🎶🎄🎶
That night over dinner, Rey turned on the local Christmas music station, humming to herself over her plate of pasta.
“What’s this song?” Ben asked.
“It’s Taylor Swift’s version of Last Christmas. I love this song.”
Ben froze with his forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth.
“You do?”
“Yep. Of course the original is my favorite,” she said, continuing to eat and not noticing his distress.
He choked down his bite of food, gulping his water to wash it down and asking in a hoarse voice, “The original?”
“By Wham? It’s literally my favorite Christmas song ever. You know this. Remember? Poe and I used to sing the karaoke version at Christmas every year.”
Vague memories of Rey and Poe singing a bevy of Christmas songs at karaoke parties over the years blurred one into another. Ben never paid attention to the actual songs, mesmerized as he was with anything Rey did that brought that sparkle to her eyes.
He realized then what Poe had done by encouraging the bet. He knew he could win.
That son of a bitch was going to pay. Two hundred dollars to be exact.
For the next week, Ben avoided any and all musical channels. Any time Rey turned on the television or radio, he found an excuse to leave the room, finding safety in headphones and an audiobook. He avoided Christmas movies, developing a fear of the background soundtracks.
He could tell Rey was disappointed whenever he turned down a cup of cocoa by the fire, or actively turned off the radio without a word of explanation.
His worst reaction was running out of Target with his fingers in his ears, afraid that he would accidentally be sent to what Poe called “Whamhalla.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Rey said, when she yanked open the door to the car and saw him staring at nothing in front of him. “Are you alright?”
“Yep, totally fine,” he said, starting the car and making sure to turn off the radio.
By the end of the week, Rey was irritated, and exceedingly depressed, fearing the worst about her husband. He had been so secretive and odd the last week, she couldn’t help but confront him when he tensed up upon entering his and Poe’s company office party.
“What has gotten into you? Why are you so jumpy?”
“I’m not jumpy.”
“You’ve been bouncing off the walls for a week. Shouting at me, turning off Christmas music, running out of the room any time I turn on the television or want to settle down with you. And now this,” she waved her hands in front of him, in reference to his jittery behavior. “You’re acting really suspicious.”
“You’re just imagining things,” he said, trying not to look guilty and veering into wide-eyed fear when a new song began. He visibly relaxed when an unknown tune filled the room and couples continued dancing without a care in the world.
“That! Right there!” Rey shouted, her pointer finger coming dangerously close to his chest in an accusatory thrust. “You’re keeping something from me and I don’t like it. Are you,” she took a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly as her eyes glazed with tears. “Are you messing around with someone at the office?” she asked, almost too low for Ben to hear and he jerked up when her words finally reached his brain.
“What? Oh my god, Rey, are you serious?”
Silent tears trickled slowly down her cheeks and she reached up to quickly wipe them away. “It’s just, I’ve felt really alone this last week and you have been so distant. You’ve been acting weird and I thought—“
“Rey, no. God this is so stupid. It’s Poe.”
“Poe? What about Poe?”
“He—“
Right on cue, Poe burst through the door and spotted his sister, calling out her name above the noise of the party and rushing to her side to pick her up and twirl her around, her candy-cane striped skirt whirling out like a bell around her.
“Poe, put me down, you idiot! What’s with you?”
“I’m just happy to see you, baby sister. Merry Christmas!” He kissed her cheek and leaned back so his husband Finn could greet her.
“What’s wrong, Peanut?” Finn asked, looking into Rey’s eyes and seeing her dismay. He glanced over at Ben who seemed irritated and felt a growing concern for her.
Ben looked at his wife trying to hide her tears from her family and back at Poe, looking so smug, and thought to himself *This is enough.*
“I’ll be right back,” he grumbled, and he marched away just as Finn took Rey by the hand.
“What is it?”
“Ben’s been acting so weird this week. Avoiding me left and right and shutting off the Christmas music whenever I turn it on—just shouting and snapping whenever he hears anything. He says it’s because of you,” she turned and pointed to Poe. His face reddened immediately.
“Uh,” he said, his eyes shifting to Finn and back to her.
“What did you do?” Finn’s tone was firm. He was on Rey’s side ever since the guacamole incident and knew the guilty look on Poe’s face.
“We were just playing Whamageddon!” he said. “It’s no big deal.”
“Then why is he acting like everything is on the line—“ Rey started before realization took over. “Poe Dameron.”
“What?”
“Did you make a bet?”
Poe looked at Finn before hanging his head. “Maybe.”
“Dammit Poe!” Rey and Finn shouted in unison.
“It was Ben’s idea!” he whined.
“I doubt he was alone in the planning stages. You two are a menace. How much?”
“Two hundred,” he mumbled.
“Two hundred dollars.” She shook her head in disgust. “Fine. You want to play like that? Finn and I will accept it instead and have ourselves a lovely day with all that cash, won’t we Finn?”
“We will, sister dear. And maybe they’ll realize that this dumb shit needs to stop.”
“Good. And now I need to apologize to my husband for accusing him of cheating on me. Merry Christmas, asshole.” This parting shot was for Poe and he laughed at the scrunched up face she made.
“I love you.”
“Yeah, right.” Rey said and stalked off to find her husband.
Ben finished his discussion with the DJ, handing him a ten dollar bill and putting his wallet back in his pocket, when Rey tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to speak and was stopped by her lips, soft and warm, pressed to his.
She broke the kiss and sprinkled tiny pecks on his cheeks, landing a firm finish right behind his ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself close and Ben laughed at her enthusiastic change of mood.
“What was that for?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her in turn and fixing her with those bedroom eyes she loved so much.
“An apology of sorts,” she replied.
“Of sorts?”
“Yeah. I talked to Poe. So I know what’s been going on. Which is why you also deserve this.”
She balled her hand up into a fist and walloped him right on his bicep.
“Ow!” he shouted.
“That’s for lying and betting behind my back. You and my idiot brother are going to pay up and Finn and I will be having a spa day this weekend.” He opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it when she raised a challenging eyebrow.
“Okay,” Ben said sheepishly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We got carried away. But I think I have another way to make it up to you.” He turned and nodded at the DJ who proceeded to push a few buttons in response.
“Oh really?”
“Yep. This one’s for you.”
“We have a special request to Rey Solo from her husband, Ben. Merry Christmas!” said the DJ over the sound system.
The opening notes of Wham’s “Last Christmas” and George Michael’s smooth voice filled the room, sending the entire office into a tizzy, with chorus of groans and exclamations of, “Whamageddon!” “Dammit!” “What the hell, Solo?” and “I almost made it!”
Rey threw her head back and laughed.
“You’re not gonna have any friends here after this,” she teased. The sparkle in her eyes as she looked at him and her beautiful smile made him feel like they were the only two in the room. He leaned down and tilted her chin up for a kiss.
“Worth it.”