It's a Jungle, Baby

Dreams Come True

"I really hope I don't open the door to see a dead Henry." Queenie says as walk up the stairs to our apartment.

"I'm just hoping they didn't throw a party with hookers still passed out in our bathtub." I say as we reach the door.

Chelsea unlocks the door and Henry runs up to us, cat's still alive. The apartment isn't trashed and there's no hookers in the tub. I walk over to the counter where our mail is, I flip through it and see something that I don't believe.

Two letters from the USWNT, the United States woman's soccer team, addressed to Chelsea and I. I look at them in shock, they're reaching out to us, do they want us to play for them?

"Chelsea, you wanna look at this?" I say and she comes up behind me, reading the envelopes.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" She wonders taking her letter.

"I sure hope not." I say and we open our letters.

I scan the letter carefully, we want you to try out. I read the letter twice more just to be sure. This is my dream. They want me to try out to play in a tournament in Italy in August. Jesus Christ. I look up to Chelsea and she smiles.

"You to?" I wonder quietly.

"Yeah, me to." She says quietly as well.

"Holy fucking Christ." I say reading the letter over again.

I made it, we made it. Sixteen years of soccer games, endless training, and countless injuries, I made it. My life is finally coming together, I have a great family, the best boyfriend on this planet, and my dream is coming true. Holy shit.

We fly out in a week, then it hits me like a train. If I make the team, I'd be away from Duff, and the rest of the guys. My family would be in a whole other country. What if Duff doesn't want me to go? What if I go and he finds someone else? Jesus. I look up and Chelsea and see she's thinking the same thing. Shit.

I grab a soccer ball from the floor, they're scattered throughout the apartment. I spin it around in my hands.

"Come on." I say walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?" She wonders.

We walk up to the roof. I drop the ball and kick the ball at her. Whenever I was upset or confused, I'd kick a ball as hard as I could at the garage door or the net. It brings me peace. We kick the ball back and forth for a while and we start laughing at each other, trying to show the other up with fancy footwork. I kick the ball hard past her to her, Chelsea misses the ball and it flys off the roof. God fucking dammit.

Duff

We stand outside the girls building, smoking before the going in to see them. I'm happy to be back home, I can tell Axl and Taylor are happy to. We stand against the wall and something lands in front of us. It bounces up before Axl catches it, a soccer ball.

"Soccer anyone?" He says throwing the ball at me. I catch it and then we hear something all too familiar.

"Goddammit TJ! What the hell kinda kick is that?" Our favourite Brit yells.

"It was a great fucking kick, you just have shit hands! Call yourself a fucking goalie!" Taylor yells back.

"Where the hell did it go?" Chelsea calls.

"Down, where the hell did you think? Fucking Buckingham Palace?" Taylor yells back.

"Caused a bloody thirty car pile up, more than likely."  Chelsea screams at her. "Well let's look for it you, bloody American prat."