Trophy and Hollow

The plate wobbled precariously.

A tiny squeak escaped her lips.

The plate teetered, balancing on the edge like it was about to fall, threatening to send the whole tower of desserts crashing down.

And just then, as if from nowhere, a firm, steady hand appeared.

With quick precision, a tall man stepped forward—his sleek black mask covering his face but not the calm authority in his eyes. His hand reached past Vivi, steadying the plate just before disaster struck. Then, in one smooth motion, he scooped her up gently with his other arm, preventing her from toppling over completely.

Before she could even catch her breath, he plucked a single pink macaron from the tray and placed it delicately into her tiny palm.

"Careful," he said softly, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable note of gentle warning. "You almost toppled the entire dessert kingdom."

Vivi blinked up at him, heart pounding in her chest from surprise and a bit of embarrassment. "Oh… sowwy…" she murmured, cheeks coloring a rosy pink.

He chuckled, a warm, kind sound that seemed to ease the tension in the room. With careful hands, he adjusted her so she was safely seated on a nearby stool.

"No harm done, little one," he reassured her. "Just dessert nearly gone to waste."

As she settled down, cheeks still puffed from her near mishap, he reached down and handed her a tiny cone with a small scoop of strawberry ice cream—a peace offering in the form of sweet, creamy delight.

Vivi's eyes lit up again as she took her first bite. A soft hum of contentment escaped her lips, and she swung her legs beneath the chair, savoring every mouthful.

"This is so good…" she murmured happily. "My tummy is singing."

The man smiled beneath his mask, resting his chin thoughtfully on his hand as he watched Vivi savor her treat. His eyes softened, reflecting a quiet amusement. "You've got a good taste, little one," he said gently.

Vivi looked up at him, her lips pursed in a thoughtful little pout. Then, carefully, she picked up a strawberry cream puff from the plate between them. Holding it up with both hands, she offered it to him, her eyes shining with innocent generosity.

"Here, Mister! You try too! Sharing is good, Mommy said."

The man blinked, momentarily caught off guard. It had been a long time since anyone had offered him anything—especially not with such sincere, wide-eyed kindness.

"You're giving me your dessert?" he asked quietly, his voice tinged with surprise.

Vivi nodded eagerly. "I share! Because you save Vivi. That's hero job!"

For a moment, he hesitated, caught between disbelief and something softer stirring inside. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached up and peeled off his mask.

Vivi's gasp was audible—her mouth fell open in awe, and her grip on the cream puff faltered, nearly dropping it.

"Woooaaah…" she whispered, eyes wide and sparkling. "Mister, you pwetty!"

He let out a soft, amused laugh. "P-pretty?"

"Like Mommy's story prince!" she declared, still staring at his face as if it were something magical. "You got sparkly eyes!"

He accepted the cream puff from her hands and took a small, careful bite, lips twitching into a gentle smile. "You're something else," he murmured.

Vivi beamed with pride, then leaned forward inquisitively. "What's your name, Mister Handsome Prince?"

He glanced at her thoughtfully before answering, "Hmm… You can call me Daddy."

"Daddy?" Vivi tilted her head, curious. "Like Daddy One and Two?"

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her words. "Wait… Daddy Number Two… is that the tall one with the icy eyes and messy hair?"

"Uh-huh! That's Daddy Nevy!" Vivi nodded quickly, eyes bright. "He gib me chicken and pink clothes!"

The man's expression twitched ever so slightly. "Neville," he corrected softly.

Vivi continued, chewing happily on another bite of her treat. "And Daddy One is Mr. Goosleing! He gib me dragon suit!"

His eyes darkened just a fraction. "Stanley?"

Vivi nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!"

He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable now, jaw tight with something unspoken. "So I'm the last one, huh? Daddy Number Three."

Vivi blinked at the sudden shift in his tone, sensing a change she didn't quite understand.

He smiled, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes anymore. There was a quiet weight beneath the gesture, something heavier lurking just beneath the surface. "Of course Stanley gets to be Daddy Number One," he said softly, almost to himself.

Vivi, completely unaware of the subtle storm flickering behind his gaze, simply grinned and held out another sweet treat. "Want 'nother? This one has jam in it!" she chirped, her innocence shining bright.

The man didn't answer right away. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the plate before him, then back to the cheerful little girl sitting across from him—Stanley's daughter. Neville's favorite. And now… his.

His fingers curled slowly around the edge of the plate.

"Sure," he said finally, a tight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's eat."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the celebration hall, Neville was deep in conversation. Sponsors and teammates surrounded him, their voices a mixture of congratulations and strategy talk. The trophy gleamed proudly in one hand, while the other held a glass of champagne. His cool, composed demeanor remained intact, but inside, something felt hollow—an aching gap that none of the accolades could fill. The buzz of praise was distant, a mere background noise to the gnawing sense of something incomplete.

"Mr. Jolie," Theo's voice cut sharply through the chatter, low but urgent.

Neville turned, his brow furrowing as he caught the unusual look on Theo's face. Pale. Anxious. Clumsy with panic, a feeling Neville rarely saw from him.

"Something wrong?" Neville asked, his tone sharp, ready.

Theo swallowed hard. "Vivi… she's not with me."

Neville's glass froze mid-air. "Not with you?"

Theo shook his head, voice trembling. "I brought her back after your speech. She was fussy, so I gave her juice and her blanket. Then… I looked away for just a second. She was gone."