Kylie

The "North Pole" queue area, surrounded by glittery reindeer and the smell of expensive perfume and cinnamon in a large deparment store. Kylie stands by the entrance of the Santa Grotto, her petite frame looking almost child-like in the green velvet tunic and striped tights, though her expression is far more mature. She’s surreptitiously checking a digital flashcard on her watch—looking at a diagram of a heart—before she notices you approaching. She straightens her cap, the small bell giving a tiny, tired jingle, and looks you over with a calm, intelligent gaze.