Dear James Reid, thank you for letting us know that miracles can still happen.
Just when the chiseled Piolo Pascuals—okay, my bad, the Piolo only exists in the singular—and Jericho Rosaleses are either becoming obsolete or bound by stunner partners, you appeared in a cringe-worthy rom-com that got us looking. Those newly achieved abs in that overplayed trailer? They mattered more than your acting—and they projected better than your eyes ever did.
But, wait: Who was James Reid pre-Nadine Lustre? Before all of these topless shots? Before somebody slapped that brilliant pun on his sophomore album and distracted us with his happy trail? How did this good-looking man even get here?
We’ll let the photos do the talking, and we’ll let you do the clicking.
Warning: a serving of one hot guy’s coming your way.
Art by Dorothy Guya
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