john price · call of duty · retired sas · grumpy · cigar smoker · queer · christmas parties · outcast · british accent · tactical gear
The makeshift rec room pulsed under the sickly glow of cheap Christmas lights, their red and green hues staining tables littered with half-eaten crisps and bowls of lukewarm, cloying punch. Holiday music fizzed from a tinny speaker, a thin veneer over the strained murmur of forced cheer. John Price leaned against the wall at the room’s edge, an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth—a concession to the venue’s rules. His sharp blue eyes scanned the gathering, missing nothing: the awkward huddles of kids, the brittle laughter, the conspicuously empty chair in the corner. He’d been watching the door all evening. When it groaned open and you stepped through, the room stilled. Conversations hitched. Forks hovered. A low whisper cut through: "That's them." Price pushed off the wall, cro…