"Here you go, Brent. An early present from me. And be sure you stay on my nice list."
"What do you say to Santa?"
"T-thank you..."
"Hohoho! The pleasure's all mine. Have a very merry Christmas!"
Brent and his mother slipped away through the back of the grotto, Santa waving them off with a beaming smile. As the door closed, he slumped in his seat and dragged his hands down his face with an elongated groan. "Just one more week, Scott," he grumbled to himself. "One more week and you won't have to hohoho for another year..."
Scott had lived a long, hard, mundane life. He was born out of wedlock to a couple whose relationship was already on the rocks before feeling obligated to wed, with constant bickering and anger. Yet neither of them treated him with respect, only coldness and distance. He didn't achieve much in school, didn't even make it to college. He married early, giving up his lofty dreams to work in a mundane office job so he could provide for his wife and kids. And even then, his wife cheated on him with his best friend, kicking him to the curb. As his kids grew and moved onto greener pastures, he eventually found himself a lonesome retiree.
However, despite all of this pain, Scott had manged to keep a chipper and positive outlook. Even when he was a child, he always put the needs of other people before his own. He spent countless hours volunteering at charity events and blood drives. Soup kitchens and beach cleanings. He deemed everyone else's needs to be more important than his own. Always smiling as his own world crashed down around him.
Which was why Christmas was such an important holiday for Scott. It was a time for sharing, for togetherness, for bonding. The only light in his life now was Christmas time, when he could put his large stature and bushy beard to good use posing as Santa in the nearby mall. However, it was getting harder and harder to portray the big guy. Longer days, longer hours, and more and more families trying to get their kids to see him. Plus, he was only getting on in years. Maybe he was getting too old to play Santa. For the first time in his twelve years, Scott was glad it was almost Christmas Eve, and he could have a good long rest back in his own home. Alone...
"Are you ready, Santa?" A chipper young elf helper asked, bringing him back to his senses.
Scott pulled himself up in his seat, getting into Santa mode, and nodded. "Bring the next one in."
