A phone rings in Toronto.

"Hey, um. It's me. I didn't know if you would be at practice or...what. My plane just got in. Um. I guess you're at practice. Or maybe you're asleep. What time is it over there, anyway? I don't have a watch. I'm sorry if you're asleep. I just kind of wanted to talk. I'm in a cab right now, um, to the hotel, I guess. God, I don't even know where it is...I hope this guy knows where he's going, he seems a little crazy. Um...I guess you really aren't there. Call me tonight? Bye."

//

A phone rings in Toronto.

"Hey...it's me. Did you call my phone last night? Because I didn't hear it ring, but it's been all kinds of messed up lately, so maybe that's why. I guess I'll probably have to get a new one so don't I get those damn roaming charges. I watched the game...the guys all looked really good tonight. You looked really good out there. Anyway...I should probably get ready for practice. My first practice, wow. I'm kind of nervous. I just really wanted to hear the sound of your voice. I miss you. Please call me? Bye."

//

A phone rings in Toronto.

"Hi, it's me. I know I talked to you this morning, and you're at dinner now and everything but...I just wanted to call you to tell you I love you. I miss you like crazy. The guys here are all really nice, well, most of them are really nice, but it's not the same. I really miss Toronto. Plus, it's really hot here, and all I have with me is sweaters and stuff. I'm playing my first game tonight, you'd better be watching. Just kidding. I really, really miss you. Call me tonight, okay? Bye."

//

A phone rings in Toronto.

"It's me again. I'm sorry for calling so much, I just miss you a lot. Am I...did I do something wrong? Because it seems kind of like you're avoiding me. I mean, I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but... I don't know. You said you'd call me every day. I mean, you don't have to call me every day, but it would be nice if you did once in awhile. Or at all. ...I'm sorry. It's been a really long day, I'm just tired. I really miss you. Call me, please? Bye."

//

A phone rings in Toronto.

"I'm just calling to tell you that I don't fucking care, and you can, you can, uh...and fuck you. I don't love you either. So just, just go fuck yourself, or whoever you want, you fucking...um. I'm a lot drunk. But I still mean everything I said. Let's just forget whatever happened before. You can just forget all about me. Will that make you happy? Shit...where the fuck am I? Shit. I'm drunk and lost. Are you happy now? I hate you. I fucking hate you. Don't ever talk to me again, okay? Good bye."

//

A phone rings in San Jose.

"...Al? It's Mikael. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please turn your phone back on...I love you. I'm sorry. Please call me..."