In the country of Hersaintus publicity has always been a big subject seeing as it is one of the few countries in the world that has its own king and queen. Not only that, it has the best soccer team in the world as well. What will happen when Hersai...
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IN A LAND FAR, FAR AWAY... Oh please let me save you some time and cut the bullshit here. It's all a big fucking lie. I'm nothing but a liar and a traitor. I sit here lying awake at night thinking; how far can I let this go for, living this li–
Suddenly a ball hits my head, hard. "PJ! Get your ass up dickwad, coach is gonna make us run suicides if you don't get it together." Hildebrandt calls out from the door frame. I slam the notebook shut and slide it underneath the pillow. I jump off of the bunk bed in the bus and run after Hildebrandt towards the large field.
This is it, two weeks from today is what everyone keeps telling me is the first night of the rest of my life. We're playing against the best soccer teams in the west coast; New Bourgemi and Saint Mondel. If we beat both of the team's undefeated seasons we'll take a title home then play against the best team in the entire nation; Grand Rissmi.
I know as a team we have a good chance of beating both New Bourgemi and Saint Mondel but what's scaring most of the boys is the game against Grand Rissmi because of their track record. They have what most of my teammates call 'the highest mortality rate' because apparently someone always ends up injured in the team they play against. I think they're just being paranoid to be quite honest.
But at last, I always knew I'd make it this far. I knew the screaming crowds and the packed stadiums were in the books for me the second I learned how to make a goal at the age of 2.
We start running the drills back and forth. "PJ!" Adara calls out, I can already hear the knick of anger in his tone. "Ooh, Golden Boy what did you do this time?" Garabaldi yells out from the goalie box. Annoyed, I kick the ball into the goal–making it in–then begin to run towards the inclosed tent where Adara was. What can be said about Coach Adara? He places his hand on both my shoulders. "What the hell is going on?" He yells out. Blunt, Coach Adara is blunt. "What are you inferring about?" I ask him.
He takes his arms off of my shoulders. Quickly he walks over to a cabinet, pulls out a newspaper and slams it onto my chest. I pull the newspaper away from his grip and read it in my head. "I don't see an issue." I tell him profoundly confused. "What's the title of this newspaper, PJ?" Adara asks.
"Princess Lucinda of Hersaintus embarks on her first year...W-what the hell does this have to do with me? Coach, why should I care what the country's most spoiled brat is doing?" I snap at him. He pulls the newspaper back. "Because PJ, in two weeks we are going global and NO ONE GIVES A SHIT." He yells out. I listen as all the chatter outside comes to a halt.
I look at him. "Well what do you expect me to do? Become a writer?" I question him. I then wipe the sweat that had already accumulated underneath my nose and step closer to him, "I hear they don't make much, but they sure know how to bust a coach's balls." I reply in a snarky tone. I watch as his brows furrow angrily. There was a small silence.
