"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I should've..."
"Did you hear me?"
Carson looked up at Mr. Armisen, propped up in the hospital bed of the emergency room. After four hours, two X-rays, and sixteen stitches, he still looked pretty banged up. It could've been sexy, looking like he had survived a bar fight. But Carson couldn't look him in the eye. He just felt a pang of guilt when he saw his beautiful face, scratched and bruised.
Carson looked down. "So... am I, like... fired?"
For the first time in hours, Armisen's face broke into a smile. "I didn't realize I hired you."
"Didn't you, though?" said Carson. "I mean, you gave me the money and invited me here..."
"That was a gift," said Armisen. "It wasn't a transaction, it was an open invitation..."
"Why?"
"I wanted to see you again," he said simply.
Carson looked around the hospital room. A spark of anger started to flicker inside him.
"Clarissa saw you coming back to the hotel every night last week," Carson said. "You could have any chick you wanted-"
"That's not true..."
His humility was even more infuriating than his cockiness.
"Fine, any woman who wanted you. But that's still like ninety percent of them. I sucked your dick one time and ended up knocking you off a cliff. Why did you bring me here-?"
"Because I like you."
Carson's voice broke off, disarmed by the tenderness in Mr. Armisen's words, a tone he was unfamiliar with. Velvety and sincere-fatherly.
"Well, I'm sorry I ruined our night," said Carson quietly, putting his hand on Mr. Armisen's thigh and rubbing gently.
"It's only eight o'clock," said Armisen, glancing at his watch.
"Maybe I can make it up to you," Carson said. He glanced out the door. The hallway was empty.