“The chapter sets the tone for the journey of Andres “Dre” Ramirez, a young star forced to grow up too soon.“
Manila, 1990
The air inside the dressing room was thick with cologne, cigarette smoke, and tension. The kind that never makes it on camera but clings to your bones long after the studio lights have gone dark.
Andres Ramirez—“Dre” to his closest friends and millions of fans—sat on the edge of the makeup chair, elbows on his knees, staring at his reflection.
He looked perfect. As always.
Perfectly styled jet-black hair. Skin that glowed under the powder. A smile rehearsed until it felt like breathing. The boy every girl wanted. The image every young man envied.
But Dre wasn’t looking at his face. He was looking past it. Into a silence that had settled deep in his chest.
The voice in his head wouldn’t shut up.
She’s pregnant.
It had started innocently enough. Dre met Jenny Morales on the set of a youth-oriented talk show where he was a guest and she was one of the production assistants. She wasn’t like the girls he was used to—no fake lashes, no fan behavior, no flirting just to get close. She had this grounded calm, like she wasn’t impressed by fame but still fascinated by the human beneath it.
That intrigued Dre.
So he pursued her. Quietly. Privately. He sent flowers to her apartment. Called from a landline payphone late at night. Took her out on midnight drives through Quezon City when he knew no one would recognize them.
For the first time, he felt free. Not “on.” Not watched. Just… Dre. A seventeen-year-old kid who had no idea who he was without the applause.
They were together six months when she told him.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She just said it like someone stating a fact she had already accepted:
“I’m pregnant, Dre.”
And just like that, the lights of his world flickered.
He walked out of the taping studio later that day, lights still burning behind him, but none of it mattered.
He lit a cigarette with shaky hands. His fingers trembled more than he wanted to admit. Not because he was scared of a baby. But because he realized how little control he had over his own life. His decisions weren’t his anymore.
When Jenny said those two words, something deeper broke: the illusion that he could live recklessly without consequence.
The Fallout
It didn’t take long for the news to explode. In the 1990s, the tabloids were the unofficial kings of Philippine media. Within days, Dre’s photo was splashed across front pages with headlines that painted him as everything from a heartbreaker to a cautionary tale.
“Teen Idol in Crisis.”
“Dre Ramirez Caught in Love Scandal.”
“Golden Boy Falls.”
The network called him in for a “meeting.” A euphemism for: Get your act together or lose everything.
“You’re a brand, Dre,” said Mr. Salazar, his manager. “You don’t get to be normal. You’re bigger than that. You don’t get to mess up.”
He stared blankly.
“Do you understand what this means for your career?” another exec added.
Dre wanted to scream. He wanted someone—anyone—to ask, “How are you holding up?” But none of them did.
Jenny
He didn’t see her for weeks. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he didn’t know how.
What do you say to the girl whose life you’ve just altered forever?
She lived in a small unit in Pasig. When he finally went to see her, she opened the door in pajamas and a robe. Her eyes looked tired, but they still softened when she saw him.
She didn’t yell.
“I’m keeping the baby,” she said softly. “You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to.”
His heart broke at how much she had already braced for abandonment.
“I want to be,” he whispered.
And in that moment, for the first time in his life, Dre made a decision that had nothing to do with image or fame.
He chose to stay.
The Pregnancy
It changed everything.
Dre started declining roles. Stopped going to parties. Began reading parenting books. Quietly. Alone. In secret.
But the world didn’t care about his personal transformation. The industry didn’t reward redemption. It punished imperfection.
Brand endorsements dropped him. Teen magazines stopped calling. Fans moved on to the next heartthrob.
He was no longer “the boy next door.”
He was “the cautionary tale.”
But something else was happening too.
Dre started writing in a journal. For the baby.
“Dear little one,” he wrote one night, sitting on the rooftop of his childhood home, “You were not planned. But maybe you are part of a bigger plan.”
He didn’t know what that plan was yet. But he felt it slowly forming, like sunlight behind thick clouds.
The Baby is Born
Jenny gave birth to a baby boy—Elias John—on a rainy Wednesday night in December.
Dre wasn’t allowed in the delivery room. But he waited outside, pacing, praying, and bargaining with a God he hadn’t spoken to in years.
When he finally held Elias in his arms, Dre cried. Not with fear this time, but awe.
The baby had his eyes. Jenny’s lips. And a heartbeat that seemed to echo forgiveness.
Reality Sets In
Fatherhood wasn’t a fairytale.
There were sleepless nights. Diaper disasters. Silent fights. Awkward family introductions.
His parents, especially his father, were cold at first. “You’ve thrown away your career,” his dad said. “For what?”
Dre didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
One day, Elias smiled for the first time while Dre fed him mashed bananas.
That smile answered every question.
A New Dre
By the time Elias was two, Dre was a different man.
He took smaller acting gigs—supporting roles, indie films. The press called it a “decline.” He called it real life.
He wasn’t chasing spotlights anymore. He was chasing time—trying to make every moment with his son count.
Jenny and he had grown apart by then. Not from hate. But from growing in different directions.
They agreed to co-parent, respectfully, quietly.
She later found love again.
Dre didn’t. Not yet.
His heart was still healing. Still waiting for something… different. Something divine.
Ten Years Later…
At 27, Dre was offered a lead role in a faith-based drama. A story about a man who finds God after losing everything.
He hesitated. But something in the script struck him—it mirrored his life. The broken beginnings. The unexpected child. The long walk to redemption.
He took the role.
And it changed everything.
The Phone Call That Changed His Life
On the third week of shooting, Dre was invited to a talk show to promote the film. The host, a bubbly former beauty queen, greeted him on set.
Her name was Clara Santiaguel.
She wasn’t like the others.
She didn’t gush over him. She didn’t mention his past.
She just asked, “What made you say yes to this role?”
And something in her voice made him answer with brutal honesty.
“Because I’ve lived it.”
She paused. Then smiled—not with pity, but admiration.
They talked for forty-five minutes. Off-camera.
When he left the set, Dre turned to his driver and said,
“That’s the woman I’m going to marry.”
