I never expected my Christmas to turn into a whirlwind of romance and betrayal. Invited to a magical on-air date, I thought I’d met the perfect man. But when two strangers claimed to be him and my choice led to heartbreak, I realized the real story had only just begun.
Christmas Eve at the radio station had its own rhythm—a predictable loop of cheerful jingles and festive classics. I sat in my usual spot, the studio chair that felt more like a throne on nights like this, doling out holiday cheer to an invisible audience.
The perks of being single?
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
No mulled wine spills to dodge or awkward family questions about my love life. Just me, the mic, and a playlist that screamed “holiday magic.”
“Coming up next, another yuletide classic to warm your night,” I said, my voice practiced and smooth. “And remember, Santa’s listening, so be good—or at least, be better than you were yesterday.”
The station phone lines had been busy all evening with cheerful callers sharing wishes and stories. But then his voice cut through the static—a rich, warm timbre, like caramel over snow.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Hi,” he began, with the kind of confidence that could charm a Scrooge. “I’d like to dedicate a song.”
I leaned into the mic. “For someone special, I hope?”
“Yes,” he replied, a playful smile almost audible. “To the voice that’s made countless lonely Christmases a little less lonely. This one’s for you.”
I froze, blinking at the control board as a flush crept up my neck.
Is this a prank?
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Well, that’s certainly… unique. I don’t think a song has ever been dedicated to me before,” I said, hoping my voice sounded professional and not as flustered as I felt.
The text line exploded. Messages popped up on my screen:
“Who is this guy?!”
“Are we witnessing a Hallmark movie in real time?”
Even my producer sent a teasing emoji.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
We kept talking, the conversation flowing like mulled cider—warm, unexpected, and oddly comforting. Before I realized it, I’d confessed my favorite Christmas tradition: visiting the small park near the mall, where an anonymous benefactor transformed the place into a symphony of twinkling lights and classical music.
“It sounds magical,” he said. “Maybe we should meet there.”
The words hit me like a snowball to the face. I hesitated.
Am I really about to agree to an impromptu date on-air?
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Why not,” I heard myself say, my professionalism now teetering on thin ice.
The listeners erupted. Calls poured in, and the station’s social media lit up like Times Square.
My boss texted a single word: “Genius.”
By morning, the chaos hadn’t subsided. I nursed a cappuccino in a café corner, replaying the surreal night in my head. My colleague Julie strolled in like she owned the season, a wide grin plastered on her face.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve officially gone viral,” she said, sliding into the seat opposite me. “They want you to host a matchmaking segment now. You’re basically Cupid in headphones.”
“Wonderful,” I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic, though my nerves buzzed louder than the café’s espresso machine.
A date. A promotion. A spotlight brighter than any Christmas star.
Has Christmas finally decided to take me off its naughty list?
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
The park sparkled under the glow of fairy lights, each bulb casting a golden shimmer over the freshly fallen snow. The air hummed with soft, festive melodies, wrapping the scene in holiday magic. I clutched my coat tighter, my nerves jingling louder than the carols.
That night felt surreal—a blind date with the man whose voice had captured me live on air. But as I approached the towering Christmas tree, I stopped short.
There were TWO men.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I froze, blinking as if the scene might change if I adjusted my angle. It didn’t. Both men turned to face me, their smiles as bright as the decorations.
“You must be Anna,” said the taller one, stepping forward with a confidence that bordered on cinematic.
His mischievous grin seemed permanently etched, and he carried himself like he knew how to own the spotlight.
“Steve,” he added, extending his hand like it was part of a performance. “Your Christmas caller.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I managed a polite smile, my brain trying to connect the rich, teasing voice I remembered with the man in front of me. It seemed right. He certainly “felt” like the kind of person who would call a radio station to make a bold move.
Before I could respond, the second man stepped forward. He was shorter, with a warm but hesitant smile. His scarf was wrapped too tightly around his neck, and he adjusted it nervously as he spoke.
“Actually, that’s me,” he said, his voice soft but strangely familiar. “Richard. I called last night.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I blinked again, my gaze bouncing between them. Their voices were eerily similar.
Maybe the faint crackle of the radio had blurred the distinction.
But their energy couldn’t have been more different.
“Look, I know this is a little unexpected,” Steve said with a wink, “but isn’t this the kind of thing Christmas movies are made of? Two guys, one magical night… all for you.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Richard frowned. “I don’t think this is a competition.”
I stifled a nervous laugh. “This… is definitely not how I pictured tonight going,” I admitted, my breath fogging in the chilly air.
“Well,” Steve said, flashing that million-dollar grin, “we can stand here debating, or we can let the night decide. How about a shared date? Best man wins.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Richard hesitated, glancing at me for approval. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Sure,” I said before I could overthink it. “Why not?”
Steve wasted no time, taking charge like he was the director of the evening. He orchestrated an entire scene at the hot cocoa stand, juggling marshmallows and making the vendor laugh until tears streamed down his face.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Extra whipped cream,” he declared, sliding the cup toward me with a wink. “Because someone as sweet as you deserves nothing less.”
Richard handed me a second cup. “Just in case you prefer less sugar.”
As we moved to the snowball fight area, Steve dove in like an action hero, dramatically shielding me from flying snow.
“No snowball shall touch this woman!” he shouted, earning cheers from nearby kids.
Richard, meanwhile, knelt beside me, crafting a tiny snowman with a crooked smile.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“I thought he might need a bodyguard,” he joked softly, adjusting the snowman’s stick arms.
The carousel was where my heart started to waver. Steve pulled out his phone for a selfie—“for the fans,” he said, holding it high as his perfect smile filled the frame.
Meanwhile, Richard reached out to steady my carousel horse as it wobbled slightly.
By the time we returned to the meeting point, Steve leaned against the tree, his grin never faltering.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“So, what do you say? Christmas with me? I promise to keep it unforgettable.”
Richard, standing just out of the spotlight, stepped forward and gently took my hand. His touch was warm despite the cold. “Thank you. For giving me a chance.”
And then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the glimmering lights. Richard stepping back felt like a graceful exit, sparing me the awkwardness of making a choice and possibly hurting someone.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Besides, it all made sense. The voice from the radio, full of confidence and charm, couldn’t have belonged to anyone but Steve. His boldness, the way he carried himself, his easy humor—it matched perfectly with the man who had captured my attention on air.
“Smart choice,” he teased. “But let’s get out. This park’s too… romantic for my taste anyway. Honestly, who thought meeting here was a good idea?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I blinked. “You mean… you suggested it! It’s my favorite spot, remember?”
“Did I? Huh. Funny. I’d almost forgotten.”
Why did he forget something like that? And why did it sound like he hadn’t even meant it? Maybe I chose the wrong man?
***
Determined to make an impression, I had spared no effort. The soft fabric of my new dress hugged me just right, my hair shone like it had a personal lighting crew, and the subtle shimmer of my makeup felt like magic dust.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
When I reached Steve’s grand townhouse, I almost believed it could be a Christmas to remember. Clutching my carefully wrapped gift, I adjusted the hem of my dress and pressed the doorbell.
Steve opened the door. “You look stunning. Come in.”
I stepped inside. Couples clustered in small groups, laughing over glasses of wine.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
And then I saw her.
Julie stood near the fireplace, her dress impeccable and her posture exuding smugness. She came to Steve and looped her arm through his in a way that spoke volumes before she even opened her mouth.
“There you are,” she purred, her voice like syrup laced with poison. She leaned in and kissed Steve on the cheek, her eyes never leaving mine. “Thanks for coming. Isn’t he just wonderful?”
I froze. Her words landed like tiny barbs, but her next ones hit harder.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve got great taste in men. Too bad you’ll always come second.”
A wave of polite laughter rippled through the room, but I couldn’t reply. Gripping my coat, I turned and walked out into the cold. The bitter wind stung my cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. The magic of the Christmas night had vanished.
***
Back home, I flopped onto the couch, burying my face in a pillow. Julie’s words played repeatedly in my mind, each cutting deeper than the last. I had trusted Steve’s charm, let myself believe in the fairytale, and ended up humiliated by my envious coworker.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
As I lay there, the soft hum of the radio filled the room, playing the same festive tunes I’d spun a hundred times before. My fingers reached out automatically to turn up the volume.
Then I heard it—a voice I recognized instantly.
“It’s Richard,” he said, his words measured but full of heart. “I don’t know if you’re listening, but I’m waiting in your favorite spot. If you’re willing to take one more chance, I’ll be here.”
Richard? Waiting?
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I bolted upright, my pulse quickening. I grabbed my coat and headed out into the night without a second thought.
When I arrived at the park, the sight stopped me in my tracks. The Christmas tree was brighter than ever, draped in shimmering lights that seemed to reach for the stars. The soft strains of classical music floated through the air, wrapping the moment in something that felt like magic.
And there he was. Richard. He stood under the glowing tree, his hands in his pockets, his expression nervous but determined.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“I know I’m not perfect in real life. My voice on-air did,” he said, his voice trembling as his eyes met mine. “But I want to try to be for you.”
The world around us blurred, the music fading into the background. There were no grand gestures, no flashy charm. Just Richard, honest and vulnerable. For the first time in years, the emptiness of Christmas was replaced with something else entirely.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I came to the island searching for peace, a fresh start to heal from my past. Instead, I found HIM—charming, attentive, and everything I didn’t know I needed. But just when I started to believe in new beginnings, a single moment shattered it all.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life
Matthew Perry has reportedly died. The “Friends” actor was 54
Actor Matthew Perry, famously known for the role of Chandler Bing in the iconic show Friends, was found dead Saturday in a hot tub at his Los Angeles home, law enforcement has reported.
Spokesperson of the LA Fire Department reported that first responders arrived at Perry’s home at about 4 p.m. regarding a “water emergency” of an unknown type, but did not name the actor. Sadly, upon arrival, they discovered Perry’s unresponsive body. According to them, there were no drugs of any type at the scene. At the time being, no foul play is suspected.
A representative of the actor hasn’t issued any comments regarding the tragic incident.
The investigation over Perry’s passing is still ongoing and the cause of death remains unknown. It will be determined by the Los Angeles County coroner’s office at a later date.
“We are devastated by the passing of our dear friend Matthew Perry,” Warner Bros. Television Group, which produced “Friends,” said in a statement to The Times. “Matthew was an incredibly gifted actor and an indelible part of the Warner Bros. Television Group family. The impact of his comedic genius was felt around the world, and his legacy will live on in the hearts of so many. This is a heartbreaking day, and we send our love to his family, his loved ones, and all of his devoted fans.”
“We are incredibly saddened by the too soon passing of Matthew Perry,” NBC, which aired the series for all 10 seasons, said in its own statement to The Times. “He brought so much joy to hundreds of millions of people around the world with his pitch perfect comedic timing and wry wit. His legacy will live on through countless generations.”
Saturday evening yellow-and-black LAPD crime scene tape blocked off the entrance to Blue Sail Drive, a tony street just off the Pacific Coast Highway at the crest of a hill with sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean.
Shortly after 7 p.m., as multiple helicopters whirred overhead, Perry’s mother, Suzanne, and her husband, broadcaster Keith Morrison, joined the journalists and LAPD officers on the scene. Morrison declined to comment. An LAPD officer at the scene said he had no information and that he did not know when any would be forthcoming.
Peter, a neighbor of Perry’s on Bluesail Drive who declined to give his last name Saturday evening, said he only spoke to the actor once, for five minutes, and that he was “very pleasant” and a “nice guy.”
“It’s shocking,” Peter said as he waited for the LAPD, who had barred journalists from passing the police tape, to approve him for entry. “He’s been redoing this house forever and he seemed fine. It’s very sad.”
Leo, another neighbor who declined to give his full name, said he was home when an ambulance arrived at Perry’s house Saturday afternoon. He declined to say whether paramedics tried to revive Perry or if a body was removed from the premises.
“I was shocked,” he said. “It was very disturbing and sad after all these years.”
Perry was one of his favorite actors, Leo said, and the funniest member of the “Friends” cast.
“I encountered him once and he was very, very friendly. More so than I thought,” Leo said. “It’s definitely a tragedy, especially at such a young age,” he added. “I was very heartbroken to see what happened.”
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
Perry, the son of actor John Bennett Perry and Suzanne Marie Langford, onetime press secretary of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, was born in 1969 and grew up between Montreal and Los Angeles after his parents separated when Perry was 1.
He got his start as a child actor, landing guest spots on “Charles in Charge” and “Beverly Hills 90210” and playing opposite River Phoenix in the film “A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon” in the 1980s and early 1990s.
But his big break came when he was cast in “Friends” — originally titled “Friends Like Us” — a sitcom about six single New Yorkers navigating adulthood that premiered on NBC in 1994.
The series soon became a juggernaut, the anchor of the network’s vaunted Thursday-night “Must-See TV” lineup, and turned Perry and his castmates Jennifer Aniston, Courteney Cox, Lisa Kudrow, Matt LeBlanc and David Schwimmer into mega-stars almost overnight. At its high-water mark — for a 1996 Super Bowl episode and the 2004 series finale — the series could notch more than 50 million live viewers; by its end, cast members were earning more than $1 million an episode.
As Chandler Bing, the handsome, wisecracking roommate of LeBlanc’s Joey Tribbiani and, later, love interest of Cox’s fastidious Monica Geller, Perry distinguished himself in a crackling ensemble cast. With his dry delivery he created a catchphrase with a mere turn of inflection, based on banter he’d shared with childhood friends: Could he be any more Chandler?
Soon, he was attached to major stars like Julia Roberts and appearing in prominent films such as 1997 rom-com “Fools Rush In,” opposite Salma Hayek, and 2000 ensemble mob comedy “The Whole Nine Yards” with Bruce Willis.
There was a dark side to the life of one of television’s most beloved funnymen, however. In his 2022 memoir, “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing,” Perry recounted his lifelong struggle with addiction to alcohol and opioids. He wrote that he had his first drink at 14, but didn’t recognize the signs of alcoholism until 21. Since then, he estimated, he’d spent more than $7 million on efforts to get sober, including multiple stints in rehab. His substance abuse also led to a number of serious health issues, including a five-month hospitalization in 2018 following a colon rupture that left him, he wrote, with a 2% chance to live through the night.
And it was fueled, he acknowledged during a “Friends” reunion special in 2021, by the pressure to land the joke in front of a live studio audience night after night.
(NBC / NBCUniversal via Getty Images)
“Nobody wanted to be famous more than me,” Perry told The Times in April, discussing “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” at the Festival of Books. “I was convinced it was the answer. I was 25, it was the second year of ‘Friends,’ and eight months into it, I realized the American dream is not making me happy, not filling the holes in my life. I couldn’t get enough attention. … Fame does not do what you think it’s going to do. It was all a trick.”
Perry was remembered on Saturday by friends and collaborators such as Selma Blair, Paget Brewster, Morgan Fairchild and Mira Sorvino as a singular comic talent and kind soul.
Perry’s “Friends” co-star Maggie Wheeler, who played his on-again, off-again girlfriend Janice on the hit show, shared a sweet tribute on Instagram.
“What a loss. The world will miss you Mathew Perry,” she wrote. “The joy you brought to so many in your too short lifetime will live on. I feel so very blessed by every creative moment we shared.”
He was also memorialized by Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, Pierre’s son and one of Perry’s childhood friends.
“Matthew Perry’s passing is shocking and saddening,” Trudeau wrote on X. “I’ll never forget the schoolyard games we used to play, and I know people around the world are never going to forget the joy he brought them. Thanks for all the laughs, Matthew. You were loved — and you will be missed.”
Though Perry estimated he had relapsed “60 or 70 times” since first getting sober in 2001, he maintained a steady presence on American television, playing key parts in backstage dramedy “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” and therapy sitcom “Go On,” and making a steady stream of guest appearances on acclaimed shows such as “The West Wing” and “The Good Wife.”
Since his near-death experience in 2018, Perry had found solace in friends, frequent games of pickleball and, especially, writing. Though producing “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” had forced him to relive his darkest moments, it also connected him to “all the sufferers out there”: “I had a story to tell, a story that could really help people,” he wrote. “And helping others had become the answer for me.”
Indeed, for all his success as an actor and, more recently, as a bestselling memoirist, Perry told The Times in April that his work was not the center of what he hoped would be his legacy.
Pressed to name how he’d like to be remembered, he said: “As a guy who lived life, loved well, lived well and helped people. That running into me was a good thing, and not something bad.”
Leave a Reply