Chase's POV

"Yes, I just sent the email with my thoughts for actors and actresses," I say to Mr. Reyes.

I've been working for him for about two months now and he definitely wasn't lying about working me hard, but I'm absolutely loving it so far! Being his Associate Producer gives me freedom to work with and see how all the sections function, which is perfect because it'll help a lot when I actually start producing my own film.

We're still in the preproduction stage so my hours are really flexible. As long as I complete my tasks within a reasonable amount of time, he doesn't care what hours I work.

"Alright, I'll take a look, possibly make some changes. Have you read the script?"

"Several times. I also attached some of my notes on the script," I reply hesitantly.

Mr. Reyes releases a lighthearted laugh. "You're on a roll! I'll send a document over. I need to start looking at locations for filming. If you can add a few to the document, that'll be great! It's not too urgent so take your time with it."

We hang up and I open my laptop to start reading the document.

Sometimes my mind still wanders to the trial which is about a month away, but for the most part, I'm trying to live in the moment and not worry too much about testifying or the outcome of the case. This job actually helps keep my mind off of it, and so does working on my script and spending time with Diego, my friends and family. So that's exactly what I've been doing.

We've even had another group dinner at Mason's house, and he absolutely adores Diego, while Justin is now hand in glove with Bryan, who is thrilled to have someone to tease Jesse with, since Jesse often teams up with Esmée to tease him.

I've also met with Dean and Samantha several times over the past two months to go over what happened in preparation for the trial. The pain of the memory hasn't decreased, and I don't know if it ever will, but I've learnt to manage the symptoms. I no longer throw up or stutter though the events of that night, though a knot still forms in my stomach and my hands still get clammy.

My phone pings at that moment and I glance at it noticing a new message from Diego. I giggle and pick up my phone.

We're supposed to be meeting later today for a date that I planned! I didn't see him yesterday, though we chatted on the phone, so I'm really excited to see him.

Diego is always the one who plans our dates and is always surprising me with little gifts. But now that I have a paying job, I want to treat him. I planned a hike along one of my favourite treks, that Mason introduced me to, and once we're there, we'll camp overnight. I also bought us couple rings, which I'll give to him when we get there.

After I got my first paycheck, I took Jesse and Shawn to a spa and hotel where they got massages and were pampered for the entire weekend.

I did some work while they were getting their messages. Even though I've managed not to start panicking when I'm touched or hugged, it still makes me feel uncomfortable. However, I practiced hugging Shawn, my brothers and their partners every time I see them, and that uncomfortable feeling is now non-existent with them.

I unlock my phone and read Diego's message.

My Super Hot Angelfish DiDi!: Hey little lamb, I'm so so sorry but I have to postpone our date today! I'm really sorry, Chase, but I love you, always and forever!

My eyebrows knit together at his text message. Diego never cancels or postpones a date via text. He always calls. Even if he's in a meeting, he would leave it for a few minutes to talk to me.

I hit the call button, biting the inside of my cheek, and I gasp when the call is immediately declined. There is another ping indicating a text from Diego.

My Super Hot Angelfish DiDi!: I can't talk right now, honey bee. I'm really sorry, I'll make it up to you later, I promise!

I frown, still wondering what on earth is going on!

Me: Why can't you make our date? Are you at work?

The three dots appear as Diego instantly starts responding.

My Super Hot Angelfish DiDi!: I'm supposed to be working from home today.

What! That didn't answer either of my questions! Why is he avoiding my questions!

I shut down my laptop, take a quick shower and change my clothes before ordering an Uber to Diego's place. While waiting, I check my phone to see a few more texts from Diego.

My Super Hot Angelfish DiDi!: Chase? Are you mad?
Please don't be mad!
I really can't make our date today but I promise I'll make it up to you!
I love you, always and forever!
Chase?
Chase?
Please reply to me!
Chase?

Those are followed by a row of the crying face emoji, and I pocket my phone, deciding not to reply. The Uber finally shows up after what seems like hours and I hop in the back seat.

I'm sure something is wrong. Diego never cancels via text. Most of the times he only texts me if he isn't able to reach me via a phone call. He also never avoids questions and always provides an explanation if he needs to postpone a date.

Something is wrong. Is he being held hostage? Did someone steal his phone and is messing with me? Did he lose a bet with Bryan where the consequence was sending me cryptic text messages?

I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to find out. I'll check his house to see if he's there, and if he's not, I'll call Bryan to find out if he knows anything.

The Uber pulls up outside of his house and I mumble a thank you and race to his door. I pull out the spare key that he gave me a few weeks ago and unlock the door, before entering and rushing to his bedroom.

"Did you bring the soup your mom promised?" A deep, congested voice questions from under a pile of blankets.

I release a sigh of relief before pouting. I march up to his bed, snatch up a pillow and smack him with it. "How could you not tell me you were sick! I thought you were taken hostage!" I yell and I smack him again when I hear him laugh.

He peeks out from under his blanket, now coughing and laughing at the same time.

"Glad I can amuse you," I mumble with a pout.

"Why are you here?" He asks, coughing again once he's finished talking. I look at him in disbelief, contemplating if I should smack him again.

Instead I take a deep breath. "Because Diego." He flinches at my use of his first name. I haven't directly called him by his first name in a really long time, so he knows I'm annoyed. "My boyfriend decided to worry me by not telling me what was going on! He sent me a cryptic text and refused to answer my questions!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd be worried! Maybe a little upset, but not worried." He pauses to release a mucus filled cough. "My ex always hated taking care of me when I was sick, he said I get clingy, immature and annoying when I'm sick. So I didn't want to subject you to my behaviour. I thought if I told you that I was sick, you'd come over despite my protests so it was easiest not to say anything," he whines, coughing and still peeking at me from under the blanket.

I shake my head and roll my eyes. "And how long were you thinking of hiding from me? How long have you been sick? Did you think I would never try to call you! And I'm not your ex! I told you that I would always take care of you! I didn't realize I had to spell out all the situations in which I would take care of you!" As I'm talking, I'm realizing just how annoyed I am with his logic.

"I'm sorry, honey bee!" He releases a soft whimper. "Stop glaring, it's scary." It's such an innocent, mournful whisper that I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I love you, always and forever!" He exclaims, pulling down his blanket and beaming, clearly noticing my struggle to stay mad at him.

My lips win the battle and curve up into a smile. "Always and forever," I reply and press a chaste kiss to his lips. "You have a temperature," I frown and touch his forehead, "do you have any cold medicine?"

Diego shakes his head and I perch on the side of his bed, gently stroking his hair while I order some cold medicine, along with some fruits, tissues, honey, oatmeal and tea, all of which should be delivered within an hour.

"Bryan is bringing soup?" I ask, remembering what he said when I entered his room.

"Yes he said he'll call his mother and ask her to make me soup, then he'll come and drop it off." He sniffles and I grab a tissue from the box on the dresser and give it to him before moving his trash can closer to his bed.

After I walk over to the other side of the bed, I sit and pat my lap, indicating that he should rest his head there. His eyebrows furrow but he complies with my request. Diego's eyes flutter close when I start massaging his temples and he releases a soft noise of content. I continue the gentle massage, listening to his congested breathing as he drifts off to sleep.

A few minutes later, there is a beeping followed by a female voice. "Diego! Why didn't you call me yourself? I shouldn't have to find out you're sick- Oh and you must be Chase! It's so nice to finally meet you! I'm Esmée, Bryan's mom." 

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