Chapter Text
Nathalie finished lighting the gigantic cake with a lighter. She had dimmed the ceiling lights in the hopes of making the space feel cosy, but with only Adrien and her in here, she thought it was likely to come across as lonely.
Really, why was there so much cake anyway? Adrien was impressed, sure. Any almost five-year-old would be with a cake larger than them. But the pieces were going to haunt their fridges for the next three months before getting thrown out.
“Why aren't mummy and papa here?” Adrien said, looking at the cake.
“Well, your mother is off filming what is going to be a world-famous movie. She’s going to be seen by everyone on one of those giant cinema screens one day, Adrien. Imagine that. Her acting being preserved forever,” she said, hoping he didn’t ask about Gabriel.
“Ooh! What is the movie about? Is it one with explosions?” he asked naively, staring into the flames of the candles, the wax starting to ball up and drip down.
“I don’t know,” Nathalie lied, trying to think of how to wrap up themes of grief, infidelity, and toxic love into a package an almost 5-year-old might understand. “But it’s called Solitude. It’s about a man who loves a woman so much, he’ll do anything for her.”
It was enough, perhaps. She hoped it was boring enough to Adrien that he didn’t ask more questions.
“Woah. But mummy can’t be here now?” Adrien said, looking up from his cake with big eyes.
“Unfortunately, no, the filming is in England. They needed a specific type of weather for this scene, and it’s quite rare. So, they’re shooting it right now. But you might get to see the movie when you’re older, perhaps.”
“Like five years old!” he exclaimed, staring at her.
“Like fifteen, perhaps.”
“Oh. But that’s AGES away,” Adrien said, pouting and looking away.
“We could watch your favourite movie after you blow out these candles,” she offered, cognizant of how quickly the wax was melting. She never realised how fast birthday candles melted. Nathalie registered that she had never had to know. There were always family waiting for her to blow out the candles when she was younger. And then, Emilie and Gabriel in university. But young Adrien didn’t have anyone to pressure him to blow these candles out. No reason to grow up.
But she was there, wasn’t she? A simulacrum of his mother. Not quite close enough, but from a distance, at a glance, perhaps she held a vague emotional resemblance.
“You should blow out the candles, Adrien.”