"Hello?" a male voice Chandler didn't recognize said.

It helped him to snap back to reality, and he suddenly didn't know what to say. Or do. Should he just hang up? How much did the man talking know about him? Did he even know he existed?

"I-I'm Chandler," he stuttered.

"Oh you're Chandler! Wait a second, sweetheart."

Apparently he knew who he was. And he sounded so nice, Chandler almost wanted to ask him to talk to him. But he didn't want a stranger.

"Chandler? Is something wrong?"

He opened his mouth, but closed it. Yes, everything was just so wrong, his head still hurt, and he realized now that his body was shaking. But why would he believe him? Why had he even called?

"I... I'm fine," he chose to answer.

"Are you sure, kiddo?"

Kiddo. He didn't like talking to his father, but he secretly loved this nickname, even if he was probably too old for this now. It almost felt as if he were still young. If he was young, it meant that Bradley wasn't here.

"Yeah... I was just... Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Sure!"

He could picture – and hear – how happy his father was. He had called. He never called.

Chandler had to find something to say, quickly. He couldn't think of any lie, so he settled for part of the truth.

"It's... Did mom tell you about her boyfriend?"

"Yeah, she bragged about him the last time I was there. I didn't quite catch his name. I do remember her mentioning that he was very good in bed, and apparently was well equipped."

"Dad..." Chandler sighed, but somehow it made him smile. "I was just wondering... I don't really like him... Do you think I'm awful for wanting him out of the picture?" he asked, playing with one of his pillows.

Before dialing – when he hadn't been entirely aware of what he was doing – he had curled up with his pillow on the ground. It had helped him calm himself. A direct contact to the ground had always helped him when he panicked.

"No, you're not," his father answered after a brief pause. "It's okay to dislike some people, and it's okay to want them out of your life, especially if you're going to see a lot of them daily."

It reassured Chandler a bit to hear that his father didn't think he was crazy. "Could you... help me get rid of him? I know it's a lot to ask but-"

"Are you kidding me?" Charles laughed. "You're asking me if I want to help you get rid of your mother's boyfriend? You had me at 'I don't like him', son. Let's get rid of that annoying guy!"

Chandler chuckled, hugging his pillow. "I like the sound of that," he whispered.

"Seriously Chandler, are you okay?" For a split second, he thought about being honest, but he heard muffled voices on the phone, then his father again. "I gotta go, I'm sorry..."

"I'm fine," Chandler said.

"Thank you for calling. I'll call you when I can so we can do some evil plans together. I love you, kiddo."

"Have a good show," he sighed, hanging up after. He knew a normal child would have probably answered the words back, but he wasn't really one to express his love to his parents. And he figured that acknowledging his father's drag show and wishing him to have a good one would mean a lot more to his father, without Chandler having to actually say that he loved him. It was perfect for both of them.

He still wasn't entirely sure why he had called him, though. He was his father, yes, but he hadn't acted much like one for a long time. When he had finally tried, Chandler had been the one to push the whole thing – push him – away. He hadn't thought that he would want to willingly see his father one day, but he suddenly missed his presence. The idea of him arguing with his ex-wife was much more appealing than even a second in the same room as Bradley.

Chandler had never really needed his father before – when he was much younger, of course he had, but he had grown accustomed to the fact that he didn't really have one to play games or have good memories with – but now that Bradley was very much in the picture, about to become his official step-father, Chandler wished for his biological father to be here. He wasn't quite ready to forgive him yet – for running away with that house boy – but he considered giving him a second chance, which he had never done before.

Charles Bing called later to offer different ways for Chandler to convince Bradley to leave, or his mother to leave Bradley. He refuted most of them but liked some. His father sounded worried, but Chandler had had time to rest – he had fallen asleep on his floor – and was now more or less sure of what he wanted to do. Or what he didn't want to do, at least. He couldn't tell another adult, because he was too scared of being laughed at, he was too scared of people thinking he was being silly, jealous or joking again, just because he usually was. He probably had only himself to blame. He had used humor for too long now, and people just assumed he was always joking, even on something as serious as this.

Chandler wasn't sure he could tell anyone else. If he couldn't tell an adult, he couldn't picture himself talking to someone younger about it. Who would he even talk to? Monica? He was way too afraid that she would try to change the situation – and she would – and that Bradley would hurt her too – and he probably would, too. No, he was alone in this.

It couldn't be that hard to make Bradley want to run away. Or his mother to break up with him. At least, he hoped.