Chapter 5

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A/N: Thank you for your patience, y'all. Consider this my Christmas gift. :-)

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He gripped the phone, hard, calling on every ounce of will to keep from hurling it onto the wall. The endless ringing and the automated voice that punctuated every failed attempt drove him crazy – where the heck was she, and why wasn't she picking up? Surely she couldn't be that upset ...

Unable to think of anything else to do, he finally pulled the phone from his ear, scrolled quickly through his contacts, and called someone else. If he doesn't pick up, I swear ...

To his relief, his call patched through, and a male voice, full of sleep, finally answered. "Uh. Hello?"

"Bro," he said without preamble, "Do you know where Nadine is?"

There was a pause at the other end. "What ... wait ... James?"

"Dude, doesn't your phone have caller ID? Of course it's James."

"Wow ... thanks for the snark, pare." He heard some general rustling and groaning, which told him that his lanky friend was unfolding himself slowly out of bed, something he usually did when they roomed together on tour. "Bakit ba? What's this about Nadine? And why're you calling me so late?"

"S'not late. It's just a bit after nine." James rubbed his eyes. "I've been trying to call her. She's not picking up. Would you know where she is?"

A quick huff of disbelief. "Bro, between you and me, you're the one who's supposed to know where she is. Don't you practically spend every waking minute together? Ba't sa akin mo hinahanap?"

"I don't know ... I couldn't think of anyone else to call."

"And you called me? Why not Yassi?"

"Andre ... if I tried calling Yassi right now and explained the whole situation, she'd probably tell me to piss off without giving me the info I need."

"Tell you to piss ... wait. Bro, what did you do? Have you been a jerk or something?"

James sighed, shifting the phone from one side to the other. "I guess you could say that."

"Shit, pare."

"Tell me about it."

Andre exhaled, the sound unnaturally loud in James' ear. "Do I even want to know kung ano'ng pinanggalingan nito?"

"Probably not."

"That bad?"

"Yes. No. Crap. I ... don't know."

"That's probably the clearest answer I've ever heard in my life." Yet more rustling around. "Langya ka, pare. Fine ... ginising mo na rin lang ako, I'll see what I can find out. Maybe she'll talk to me."

James shook his head ruefully, even though he knew his friend couldn't see the gesture. "If she does, then I'm screwed."

"You got that right, bro." A click told him that Andre had already disconnected.

Damn if everybody didn't hate him right now.

The strange thing was, he actually didn't care much about who hated him – the thinly-disguised bashers posing as fans, press people, other actors or actresses in the industry – honestly, they were no skin off his nose. But the thought of Nadine hating him ... that wasn't something he could brush off.

Because he couldn't possibly work with someone who hated him, right?

Besides, Nadine was his friend. Friends to him were precious and few, and he held them almost as near to his heart as he did his own family. And sure, he sometimes had disagreements with them – he recalled a stand off that he and Bret were once involved in, and which resolved itself within a few hours of name-calling and a round of beer – so really, this was nothing new. Friends argue, friends make up. Like himself and Bret, he and Nadine would make up. There probably wouldn't be any beer or name-calling, but they would. They would.

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