Beep, beep.

Beep, beep.

Beep, be --

"This better be important or I swear to God --"

"Ashley?"

...

"Ashley, I know it's you."

"And you! You have any idea it's four in the morning?"

"Hey, I'm sorry, man ..."

"And you said you'd call the next day but you didn't."

"Oh, were you expecting that? Sorry to disappoint you."

"Shut up. I'm just so stupid. Get out of my life, okay?"

"Hey, wait. Please, I didn't mean that. I'm grateful you want to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Yeah, I know. I mean, thanks for giving me the chance to talk to you. By the way, Ashley ..."

"Listen. You sound like a good kid. Why don't you tell me your name and end all this weirdness?"

"And then we can meet?"

"We'll see about that."

"Don't you want to see me?"

"Man, you're the one who called me."

"But don't you?"

"Well ... that depends. I don't even know your name."

"We can meet without you knowing my name."

"Oh, please. You're going to arrange the place and time and tell me what you're going to wear? I think I'll pass."

"I don't have to. I know where you work. I can easily go there and people will just let me in."

"Yeah, because you have your own TV show."

"Exactly."

"Which you won't tell me the name of."

"I just ... I'll embarrass myself."

"Why?"

"It's not easy to admit to your friends that you have a crush on a male actor when you yourself are a man, all right?"

"Right. It's much easier to admit that directly to the said actor. That's neat."

"Oh God, Ashley. You ... you don't understand. You have turned my life upside down. Why do you have to be so pretty? Why do you keep batting those long lashes of yours and teasing me?"

"Why do you have to make me sound like a cheap slut?"

"Gosh, that's not what I meant. It's just that -- I think I love you, Ashley. You -- seeing you makes me feel warm inside and hearing your voice makes me want to ..."

"God, I don't need to hear this."

Click.