The Second Coming of Chad Michael Murray

Chad Michael Murray’s hands are slowly, ever-so-gently making their way toward my face. “You have a sweet little worm in your hair,” he says, extricating it. It’s a painfully embarrassing moment for me, just barely tempered by the fact that Murray had swallowed a fly only minutes beforehand. (He took it in stride, gargling some water, then jumping back into our conversation.) But listening to the actor so earnestly carry on a conversation with a worm while placing it on a nearby leaf, my mortification subsides. “Don’t go under my shirt, champ. Nope, nope. Here you go!”