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“Where’s Paris?” asked Pete and Venice sighed because he knew that Paris was feeling down because she again didn’t win a medal at the match that she had in the afternoon. Even though Pete told her more than once that it wasn’t about winning, but about having fun, she couldn’t help it. She had her hopes up, she was getting stronger and she was a lot faster than the last time, but it still wasn’t enough. And that's why she was so crushed. Losing was something that she wasn’t good at and Pete glanced at Vegas, who shrugged.
“Paris said she’ll go to bed early today,” said Venice.
“So early?” asked Vegas and Venice shrugged.
“She said she was feeling tired after the match,” said Venice and pressed his lips together. Venice didn’t believe her, though. He knew that his sister was just feeling down and wanted the day to end. Venice tried talking to her, but she didn’t really want to talk about it, so he decided not to push it.
“Without having anything to eat?” asked Pete, feeling deflated as he sat back down onto the chair and ran his fingers through his hair, looking at Vegas, who leaned back as well and clasped his hands together. Vegas knew what it was, as did Pete.
Paris didn’t win any medals, like she hoped that she would. The match was the only thing that she was talking about lately and now that it didn’t go as planned, her world crumbled down. Vegas knew how she felt, she knew how much she wanted to make him and Pete proud. Especially Pete since he was her coach, but now that things didn’t go her way, she was just…
She needed to process things.
The only thing that Vegas wished was that Paris wouldn’t push them away. It was easier said than done, Vegas knew that. He and Pete always taught the kids that they didn’t have to push them away, that pushing people away never worked out in anyone’s favour. Vegas learned from Pete and he was trying to implement that thing into his parenting, the best way that he knew how to.
Still, there were certain times that the kids still needed their space and time to process things on their own and Vegas understood that. Pete, on the other hand, felt guilty because… he knew that Paris wanted to win. She always said that she wanted to make him proud by winning that medal.
It never mattered to Pete if Paris won or not – for him it was more than winning. It was his and Paris’ bonding time. But now seeing that Paris was putting so much stress on herself… it broke Pete’s heart because he didn’t want to make her feel like his father made him feel when he was still-
Pete quickly shook his head and he cleared his throat. No, this wasn’t like that. Pete was nothing like his father and he knew that. Still, he couldn’t help but to think that there was more than he could do. Perhaps it was something that he said that made Paris-
“Pete, what’s wrong?” asked Vegas when he saw that Pete had that blank expression on his face. It was a while since he had last seen it, but it meant that Pete was spiralling down his mind and Vegas knew the feeling all too well. Venice cocked his head to the side when he saw how pale Pete’s face had gotten and he freaked out.
“Papa, what happened?” whispered Venice, alarmed and Vegas just gently placed his hand over Pete’s hand, slowly turning it around and he laced their fingers together, leaning closer to Pete, who swallowed thickly as he glanced at Vegas.
“Do you think,” started Pete slowly and even though Vegas knew what Pete was about to say, even though he knew that he was going to disagree with Pete, he still gave Pete the needed time to voice out his concern. “Do you think I put too much pressure on her?” whispered Pete and Vegas quickly shook his head.
“No,’’ said Vegas and Pete pressed his lips together. “You know how competitive she is,” said Vegas. “It’s not your fault, babe,” said Vegas and Pete smiled softly, slowly calming down a little bit when he felt Vegas’ lips pressing against his temples, but that didn’t really erase the fact that he felt troubled. He wanted to do something to cheer Paris up.
“Yeah, papa, you’re always telling her how winning doesn’t matter,” said Venice and Pete gave him a little smile and a nod.
“Mn,” said Pete and sighed.
“Yeah, not your fault at all,” said Vegas and gently rubbed Pete’s back, whose smile slowly widened and melted the worried expression away. Pete chewed on his lower lip and leaned his head against Vegas’, seeking out the comfort that he found in his husband.
“Still, I want to talk to her,” said Pete and sighed. “I want her to know that I’m not disappointed.”
Not that Paris disappointed him in any sort of way. But she perhaps felt like that.
“You will,” said Vegas softly and Pete glanced towards the plate of food that he had set for Paris and he sighed.
“She’s hungry probably,” said Pete. Pete didn’t want to be too pushy, he wanted Paris to have her needed space and time to process things, but having no dinner… Pete just wanted to take care of his daughter and he slowly stood up, taking her plate into his hand. “I’ll just go check up on her,” said Pete and Vegas gave him a little nod. “You two can eat, I’ll be right back,” said Pete, feeling his heart getting a little bit heavy again when he slowly made his way up the stairs.
Pete slowly made his way to Paris’ room, leaned against the door and listened. Silence. Pete chewed on his lower lip – perhaps Paris really was just tired and was asleep already, but he still…
Pete gently knocked against the door and slowly opened it.
“Sweet pea?” asked Pete, peeking into the room and he huffed under his breath when he found Paris laying in her bed already. Still worried, Pete slowly stepped closer and smiled softly when he saw that Paris was fast asleep after all. She was clutching on her pillow, her breathing calm and even.
“Asleep already,” said Pete and smiled. He didn’t mean to wake her up, but he still sat down onto the edge of her bed, slowly pulled the covers up and gently placed his hand on top of her head and chuckled softly as he ruffled her hair. “Didn’t even get to eat the dinner with us,” said Pete. “Don’t worry, I’ll prepare your favourite breakfast tomorrow and make sure you’ll get plenty of food,” said Pete, now talking more to himself than anyone else.
A little smile tugged in the corners of Pete’s face and he sighed, feeling calmer. Well, it made sense that Paris was fast asleep already. It’s been a long week of preparing for the match. She’s been training hard and now she just needed to get a little bit of rest.
“You were amazing out there,” said Pete and smiled, humming happily. “Never give up, no matter what the outcome will be, Vegas and I will always be proud of you, no matter what,” he said and slowly stood up, keeping his eyes on her for a few more seconds. He slowly stepped back, picked up the plate of food that he brought with him before and then he slowly walked closer to the door.
“Sleep tight, have nice dreams,” said Pete, switched off the light and he smiled when he saw Paris slowly moving in her bed. As he didn’t want to wake her up, he closed the door and quietly left, returning back to the kitchen where Vegas and Venice were still waiting for him.
What Pete didn’t see, however, was how as soon as he closed the door, tears rolled down Paris’ cheeks. The girl hiccuped, gripped onto the pillow and stuffed her face into the pillow in the hopes that it would muffle her sniffles.
Vegas narrowed his eyes as he walked down the hall and saw the lights in the gym, pressing his lips together. He was ready to call it a day – he was just strolling around the mansion, making sure that everything was in order, that his men were doing their job with guarding him and his family. Vegas knew that he was probably going an extra mile, but it was better safe than sorry. A little furrow formed between his eyebrows when he saw that someone was in the gym and he rubbed the back of his neck.
Probably the bodyguards. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Still, he decided to go and see who was in there. After that, he was finally free to curl up next to Pete, who was already waiting for him in the bedroom and a peppy smile spread across his face.
Vegas slowly stepped closer to the gym. The door was open enough for him to take a look at who was in there without interrupting in case one of his men was working out, but his eyes widened when he saw his daughter in the gym instead.
Paris was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, her hair was up in a messy ponytail. She was wearing her boxing gloves, striking the boxing bag over and over again.
Why was she…
Just an hour ago, Vegas and Pete checked up on Paris one last time before going to bed themselves. Back then, she was still asleep, but now she was… Vegas’ heart twisted when he heard Paris letting out a frustrated groan when she hit the boxing bag again, her breathing hard and uneven. So, she had to be in there for a while now.
Paris felt exhausted – it was a long day. She was exhausted physically and mentally, but that didn’t matter to her because in her opinion, she didn’t deserve to rest. Not when she lost again. It crushed her that she didn’t manage to at least win the third place, at least to have something to prove that she was actually-
Papa wasn’t putting too much stress on her, she was doing it all on her own because she wanted to prove to Pete that she was getting better. She made excellent progress, according to him, but she had nothing to prove for that. Nothing.
Paris felt heat prickling in her eyes when she remembered Pete coming into her room before, telling her that he was always proud of her, no matter what, but… Paris’ vision went blurry and she hit the boxing bag over and over again until she felt out of breath. Paris stopped, and wrapped her arms around the boxing bag, leaning up against it.
Her arms hurt, but she wasn’t fast enough. She was counting the punches and it wasn’t enough. Paris gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, her heart hammering against her ribcage.
Paris didn’t want to make papa and dad worried. That was why she just pretended to be tired and she went to sleep. She couldn’t really fall asleep. She was restless, she was in a hurry to improve, so after she made sure that Vegas and Pete went to bed as well, she snuck down to the gym.
After taking a few sips of water, she decided to carry on, counting the hits in her head. She started hitting the bag again, trying to be faster, stronger, but her whole body was shaking, feeling out of breath almost immediately. Still, she decided to push through, but she could feel that she was weaker and slower. She let out a scream of frustration. She didn’t get better, she only got slower.
It was because she was tired, she knew that and yet…
“Again,” said Paris, her knees buckling, but she didn’t let that get in the way.
Paris hunched down, counting the speed of hits in her head and he gritted her teeth because she could tell that she was even slower. Her arms hurt, her eyes welling up with tears of frustration as she almost missed the boxing back, stumbling over her feet. She was faster than before, but still way too off from her usual performance.
“Too slow,” said Paris, angrily kicking the wall. “Again,” her voice breaking, shoulders shaking and that was when Vegas finally moved. It took him a while because he was too stunned to speak. But when he heard Paris’ voice breaking, his body moved on its own and he stepped into the gym.
“That’s enough,” said Vegas, raising his voice.
Paris flinched, startled because she didn’t see Vegas watching her and she jumped, turning around. Vegas’ voice was stern, yet full of concern. Vegas didn’t mean to raise his voice, but when he saw that Paris was pushing herself over her limits, he freaked out. For a split moment, just for a second he saw himself as a kid, around Paris’ age… pushing himself, exhausting himself, making sure-
“D-dad, what are you doing here?” stammered Paris, clearly caught off guard, looking like a deer caught in headlights and Vegas shook his head.
“That should be my question,” said Vegas and stepped closer to her. As he stepped closer to her, Paris took a step back and he pressed her lips together, swallowing back her tears and Vegas shook his head. “I thought you were in bed,” said Vegas and stopped in his tracks, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening when he saw Paris backing away from him and Vegas’ heart fell to the pit of his stomach.
Vegas didn’t mean to raise his voice like that.
Vegas was just… it triggered such a bad memory that he couldn’t stop-
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you,” said Paris, her lower lip shaking. It wasn’t the fact that Vegas raised his voice. She was startled, yes, but she was old enough to know that Vegas was probably just- “I-I was just trying to-” she tried to explain, but she didn’t know how to explain herself.
Paris was exhausted, tired as hell and out of frustration she felt tears pooling in her eyes, angrily wiping them away with the back of her boxing glove and she gritted her teeth.
“I didn’t,” said Vegas and slowly took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry,” said Vegas immediately. Worry turned into fear when he saw Paris wiping her tears away and his stomach made a turn, feeling- Vegas took a deep breath and he placed his hands on top of his sides. It didn’t happen many times, but when he would raise his voice at either Paris or Venice, he felt like he was the worst.
A bad father. Even if he wasn’t one.
And yet even over a decade later, the trauma that his old man put him through still followed him. Being a good father was something that Vegas took great pride in, so…
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Vegas and Paris shook his head.
“N-no-”
“Don’t cry,” said Vegas and Paris nodded, but the tears kept on flowing. Now that they started, she couldn’t stop them, no matter how much she tried. She didn’t cry much, not often. It usually happened when she couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I’m not angry,” said Vegas quickly and stepped closer to Paris.
“I’m sorry-”
“Why,” said Vegas and then leaned down. “Why… why aren’t you in bed? You’re tired, why-”
“I wanted to-to train some more,” admitted Paris, hiccuping and she angrily wiped the tears away. “Today I sucked, I was slow,” she said. “I wanted to improve my speed, that’s why I-”
“It’s late,” said Vegas. “You’re tired, exhausted. It’s been a long day, you need rest,” said Vegas and Paris didn’t say anything. She just stood there, her head bowed down, sniffling every now and then and Vegas sighed. “And today you were amazing out there,” said Vegas and put his hand on top of Paris’ head.
“I wasn’t,” said Paris. “I wanted to win for you and papa,” said Paris.
Vegas’ heart twisted with guilt when he heard that. He knew what Paris meant, and yet his brain couldn’t help but to twist those words and understand them like…
“Have Pete and I,” started Vegas, but then he stopped himself. No, Pete wouldn’t… Pete was perfect, everything that was good in the world. “Have-have I ever said or done anything that would make you think you’d have to push yourself like this to-” started Vegas, but Paris quickly shook her head frantically and hiccuped again.
“No, dad,” said Paris quickly.
“Then,” said Vegas and slowly knelt down in front of Paris, slowly unzipping the velcro on the gloves and took one of them off of Paris’ hands. Paris didn’t say anything or stop him. “Please help me understand,” said Vegas and Paris pressed her lips together. “I know talking about feelings can be hard. Trust me, I know that,” said Vegas and smiled softly up at Paris, whose eyes were filling up with tears again.
“I just wanted to get better at boxing. Fast,” whispered Paris, hiccuping again. She was tired, hungry and in need of a hug. “I wanted to win so bad and-and then I didn’t,” she said and glanced down, feeling crushed. “I felt like I let papa down,” she said and Vegas shook his head.
“You didn’t, you know that he doesn’t-”
“I know, but I still felt like I let him down,” said Paris. She couldn’t help how she felt. “I felt so bad,” she said, explaining how she felt the very best way that she could and then she lowered her face, her shoulders shaking as she covered her face with her forearm.
Paris tried to stop the tears, but then Vegas wrapped his arms around her and she burst in tears. Vegas froze up when Paris burst in tears, sobbing into his shoulder and Vegas slowly stood up, picking Paris up. Even if she was much taller, it didn’t matter.
“You didn’t let anyone down,” said Vegas, which only caused Paris’ sobs to get louder and Vegas pressed his lips together. “Should I take you to Pete?” asked Vegas and Paris nodded, clutching onto Vegas as he slowly gave her a little nod and carried his crying daughter out of the gym.
Pete could feel that something was wrong. He was trying to pay attention to the book that he was reading, but then he heard footsteps coming closer to the room, paired up with the sound of crying and Pete’s eyes widened when he saw Vegas stepping inside of the room, holding Paris in his arms and Pete was immediately up on his legs, worried.
“Vegas?” asked Pete carefully and Paris tensed up when she heard Pete. “What happened? Paris, why are you-”
Pete was confused.
“I found her in the gym,” said Vegas and Pete’s stomach twisted. “Training.”
“But-” started Pete, shaking his head, not understanding. “I thought she was asleep? I was there before, she-”
“I-I wanted to train more,” said Paris and hiccuped. “To get better, papa,” as she slowly started explaining everything. Pete gave her the time, she was slowly explaining the best way that she could, the tears still there, now afraid that Pete was going to be disappointed because she wanted to win too much. Because she knew that winning didn’t matter, but now she made it all about winning and-
“I put too much pressure on you,’’ said Pete, his heart falling to the pit of his stomach. Pete didn’t want to be like his…
Paris shook her head quickly and Pete slowly walked closer to Vegas and placed a hand on top of Paris’ head. Vegas’ eyes flickered up and he could see the troubled expression on Pete’s face. Pete didn’t have to explain it to him, he knew exactly what was going through his mind and he slowly leaned closer, pressing a little kiss on top of Pete’s lips.
“No,’’ said Vegas. “You're nothing like him,” he said and Pete swallowed thickly as he gave him a little nod.
They were nothing like their fathers – neither of them.
“Papa, I’m sorry,” said Paris. “I-I know it’s not the point to win, I just wanted to prove that I could win,” she said and Pete pressed his lips together. ‘’Losing is hard.”
“I know,” said Pete. Vegas could relate as well.
The three of them sat down onto the bed, Paris sitting in between Vegas and Pete as they talked things out. It was late, but it didn’t matter – Pete took his time to explain it properly to Paris again that she needed to rest properly, that she was going to keep on improving in the future; there were many rewards that were waiting for her.
This was just one match, not the end of the world. Paris slowly calmed down, feeling guilty because she knew that she made papa feel bad and she looked up at him.
“Papa, do you still blame yourself?” she asked with a small voice and Pete’s eyes widened when he heard the question, eyes travelling to Vegas. Ah, Paris was also growing up way too fast. Pete chewed on his lower lip – no, he understood that this wasn’t his fault. He knew that losing was something that was hard for Paris to accept, so he just shook his head.
“No,” said Pete and Vegas gently placed a hand against Pete’s back and gently rubbed it, making Pete smile. Paris sighed in relief.
“I’m sorry I didn’t eat dinner when you came into my room before,” she said and clasped her hands together.
“You must be hungry, mn?”
“Well,” said Paris, about to say yes, but then she remembered that it was in the middle of night. “I’ll wait for breakfast. It’s late.”
“Nonsense,” said Pete. “C’mon, I’ll prepare you something to eat,” said Pete.
“But it’s in the middle of night,” said Paris and Pete waved it off.
“So?” asked Pete.
“I’ll help,” said Vegas and Paris giggled softly, rubbing her puffy eyes and then she decided to listen to her parents. After finally eating her dinner, Paris felt a lot better and Pete sighed in relief, happy to see Paris in a better mood.
Things were going to be just okay – Paris needed to learn that losing didn’t mean the end of the world. She knew Pete and Vegas were always going to support her, no matter what, she just needed to realise that it was never about winning or losing.