Who: Michael & Hamilton What: a phone call Where: Serendipity Dream (Michael) & Serendipity Freedom (Hamilton) When: Wednesday night
It really wasn't all that bad. That's what Michael was telling himself, anyway. Yes, he had fallen in one of the spa's shower stalls, and yes, his ankle was badly sprained and swollen to almost twice its normal size. But it could have been much worse, right? He could have been cut, he could have hit his head, he could have broken a bone. It wasn't bad. It wasn't.
Except that Michael had been sad almost non-stop since he had boarded the Dream. Except that Michael had already missed Hamilton enough before his injury, and now he had had it. Except it wasn't okay and everything sucked, and he just wanted to go home to his boyfriend and his dog.
Making sure his foot was properly elevated on a pile of pillows, Michael flipped open his cell phone. Pressing down the number 1, he speed-dialed Hamilton, listening to the rings and waiting rather impatiently to hear the only voice that had any hope of brightening this day.