He gives her an uncertain look out of the corner of his eye. He's never really bought the whole gimmick of this place - like they're performers in some overpriced stage show. At least the first aid stations aren't as all-in about it. "Not like we're in front of the guests."

"Oh, god, no." The reaction is knee-jerk instinctual and he over-corrects shortly thereafter. "Sorry. Just- no thanks. It's just Nick. You don't have to do any of that... princess stuff."

Unless she does? This tight-ass company WOULD have a rule about never being allowed to break character.

"Shepard. I'm filling in for Darcy. She's out for a couple weeks."

He instead keeps his hands tucked into his pockets. Or is this one Anna?

"Sorry. My daughter didn't really like your movie. More of a Snow White kid." A pause. Is that rude? Saying his kid doesn't like your movie? "Not... cause of /you/, she just liked Dopey more than - yeah. Uh, anyway."

and hit the Showcase, once the door beside him swings open and the princess (she's a princess, right?) steps out. He'd offer a hand, but it somehow feels weird to do that to even fake royalty - and she's probably already trying to get into character, or something.

Actors.

"'Elsa', right?"

He sits hunched over on one of those tiny little benches in the hallway just outside of costuming, leg bouncing, drumming a thumb against the wood. It's creepy back here - patchwork carpet and skeletal remains of old rides. This is /backstage/ backstage. He's almost (and only almost) glad to get out

And to learn they've got to drive around in a shitty little van just to get to their greeting spot for the day? He never thought he'd miss the utilidoors. He solemnly vows to never train into another role so long as he lives - no, he doesn't Care if nobody else is available to take the shifts.