Have you ever wondered what would Michael Jackson's life look like if some events didn't happen to him? If he had someone he trusted by his side through everything? Someone that had the power to save him from his tormented life?
Hayley "Brit" Thame...
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I walked around the hospital's hallways slowly as my legs felt like they were weighing twice their normal weight. I was exhausted from the lively week I had over there. Since I came back from Neverland a week ago, it's like I didn't even have time for myself. The hospital was never empty, as the emergencies were numerous. At some point, I was even asked to take care of adults as well, as an epidemic of flu seemed to take over the medical center. My main concern was the kids, though. Since the virus seemed to be all over the building, I made sure that the sickest children in the service were safe. If it hit them, it could have huge consequences on their already fragile health.
I didn't regret spending most of my night on the phone with Michael, though. It had been a week since we were both trying to get in touch with each other. I was working the night shift, and he was working late too, so it was complicated for us to find the time we needed to check up on the other. He sounded exhausted as well, and it broke my heart to hear the tiredness in his voice. He explained how hard it was for him to go to sleep because of the adrenaline: he had been in the studio for a whole week, and he was very excited about the release of his album.
As tired as we were, we didn't want to hang up the phone, because we had so much to tell each other. It had been only a week, but still, I missed him already. Having him on the phone was a breath of fresh air, as always. It instantly made me feel better.
"Dr. Thames," someone called from behind me, and I turned around in a slow motion. "Dr. Meyers told me to give you this. There's a kid who needs stitches in the ER, and two possible cases of flu waiting for you," the nurse explained, as she gave me the charts of my three new patients.
"Thanks, Natasha," I politely said. I was too tired to fake a smile, though.
I put the three charts on the reception's counter, and sighed heavily as I put my head in my hands with my elbows on the counter's surface, "I need coffee."
"You certainly do. You seem exhausted," a voice I recognized as Alice's said from behind me, but I didn't move an inch. I didn't bother looking at her.
"I'm sleep walking," I mumbled, before I finally turned my head in my friend's direction. "And your boyfriend keeps giving me more work."
"You wouldn't be sleep walking if you didn't spend the night on the phone with Michael," she pointed out, and I gave her a look. "Yeah, Carl told me he heard you giggle like a school girl in the middle of the night, so I figured you were on the phone with Michael."
"I—no! I don't laugh like a school girl," I argued, rolling my eyes at my best friend, which made her laugh. "And I may be tired, but it was worth it."
"Do you mind telling me what did you guys tell each other? I want the details," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I nudged her playfully, finding humor in her demeanor. "What?"
