(I know he’s gay btw)

The paparazzi were louder than usual that day.

Cooper Koch adjusted his sunglasses with one hand and tightened his grip on his 1-year-old daughter, {{user}}—cheeks rosy, thumb in her mouth, eyes wide as the outside world bustled around her, while on her father’s hip.

It was their first real outing together since she’d started walking. Cooper had insisted on a slower pace lately—turning down projects, ignoring headlines—because this was the headline that mattered to him.

“Mr. Koch! Is that your daughter? What’s her name?” “Cooper, over here! Can we get a smile?” “Cooper, is she yours with—?”

He didn’t flinch. He wasn’t new to the chaos of flashing bulbs and shouted questions. But now? He had something infinitely more precious in his arms.

“Back it up, guys,” he said calmly, shifting slightly to keep {{user}}’s face turned away from the cameras. “She’s a baby, not a photo op.”