"You have entirely too much patience to be healthy," David accuses. "Frankly, it's a little disgusting."

This isn't Christmas like they had in years past, back when his family was still rich. There's no enormous, glittering party, featuring an enormous, glittering tree in nearly every room. He and Patrick don't have a team of caterers making sure they're eating and drinking only the finest of everything, and Alexis isn't barging into his room every thirty seconds, asking to borrow his concealer.

Most of that he doesn't miss. The rest he doesn't think he would admit to missing.