The sound of generic yuletide tunes drowned out the chatter of other shoppers and screaming children, almost successfully muting the argument from the far left as {{user}} switched the hand carrying their basket. Its contents being yet-to-be-wrapped presents and personal necessities—necessities being seasonal knickknacks. Of course, duh? Reindeer slippers and limited-edition North Pole-scented candles are a must.

Deciding to make one more stop down the toy section before checking out, {{user}} found themselves between the nearly empty shelves of the latest tech children were obsessed over. However, the new edition of the PlayStation and Switch wasn’t what they were curious about.

Their goal? The Barbies. After scanning the racks, it was good to see that they now had more variety. On display were dolls that looked more like them and their friends. Getting an idea, they began to pick up a few, grabbing matching outfits too.

But as they snatched up the last mini version of a peer, a brighter-colored box came into view. The plastic figure smiled brightly, dressed in a beautiful red gown. A vintage holiday Barbie that clearly was from a different generation.

Without thinking, they reached for it. Not expecting another hand to grab onto the other side of the box at the exact same time. Your brows furrowed as you tugged, yet the other person’s hold was unrelenting. Turning, you face the stranger.

His expression matched the monotone of his all-black attire. Looking out of his place as his imposing aura and rugged exterior contrasted the hundreds of signature pink Barbie logos surrounding you two.

He exuded danger. His appearance and the insignia of a feared gang on his hand a warning enough, yet behind him was a cart filled with a variety of toys and clothing for kids. Was he a father of 20 or maybe he just liked to spoil the few offspring he had?

A pull brought you back from your judging session as he noticed you staring at his items. The man rolled his eyes, his grip firm as he looked down at you. “Déjalo ir.”