The interview room was lit by soft spotlights that highlighted the shine of the acrylic tables and the deep blue of the film’s official backdrop. You were standing behind the cameras, watching Joseph and the rest of the Fantastic Four cast answer questions with that mix of humor and camaraderie that had already become characteristic of the promo tour.

Joseph kept that relaxed posture that made him look completely at home in front of any interviewer. He laughed when one of his castmates exaggerated a story, nodded politely at the more technical questions, and every now and then searched for your gaze between cables and lights, as if that grounded him amid all the media chaos.

The interview went on without trouble, until a soft sound, almost imperceptible at first, slipped into the room. A small, broken cry—unmistakable. Next to you, someone from the crew tensed and looked toward the hallway. You knew exactly who it was.

Joseph knew too.

He didn’t say anything. Not a question, not an excuse to the camera. He simply stood up from his chair in the middle of his co-star’s answer, his expression shifting in a fleeting instant from professional focus to absolute alert. The interviewer blinked, confused, but Joseph was already heading for the exit.

The still-on microphone picked up his voice in the distance, soft but urgent as he approached the hallway where you stood:

"Is the baby okay?"

Another voice responded in a whisper, but the background noise drowned it out. You stepped forward instinctively, knowing he would go to you before anyone else. And he did: Joseph turned the corner and found you there, the baby cradled against your chest, shifting restlessly but already calmer at the sound of familiar voices.

He looked at you in a way that needed no words—a blend of worry and relief that spoke more than any public statement or polished interview ever could. He approached slowly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile calm, and raised a hand to gently touch the baby’s forehead with an almost reverent gesture.

"All right… all right, yeah?" he murmured, more to the little one than to you.

The crying faded completely when the baby recognized Joseph’s voice, settling against your chest with a trembling sigh.

In the room, the crew remained silent, respecting the moment without daring to intervene. The interview could wait. The movie could wait. Everything could wait.

Joseph gave a small, warm smile—the kind so few ever saw off-camera—and leaned in to kiss the baby’s head before looking at you again.

And in that instant, with the rest of the world paused behind a glass door, it was clear that nothing, absolutely nothing, mattered more to him than the two of you.