Stretched out on the sofa, staring into the bright screen with squared eyes, a notification rings out from my phone. Departing from the position I was laid limp; I sat up and grabbed my phone from the coffee table in front of me.
The notification came from a message from a group chat I shared with some friends I met from Saturday League. I looked at the message to see what the situation was.
Connor:
"Lads we HAVE to go out tonight"
Jermaine:
"It's a thursday bro where would we even go?"
Tom:
"Are yous mad? Do realise what just happened?"
Danny:
"This guy bro XD. Con what you got in mind?"
Connor:
"Just a little Rave at warehouse, know a guy who can get us in."
Zion:
"Little busy at the moment, next time"
Tom:
"Whatever I'm down, meet at Royal Oak at 10 we'll have a couple before."
Ryad:
"don't go over the top, we've got top of the league tomorrow."
The group agreed so I headed off to the shower to get ready. After Cleansing and freshening up, I stared at my muffled reflection in the steamed-up mirror. When the ship appeared, it was chaos. Everyone in the office fled straight away there was no announcement or anything, after all, what procedure can the government enact when aliens invade? Yet almost as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared and now here we are, life returning to how it was before. I guess people's lives need to resume, how else will food end up on tables?
It was 10 PM at the Royal Oak, the local, we were valued customers, we're here most days to be fair, and here we were again. Gathered round the pool table, finessing the final yellow I need to pot softly into the far corner, I slide Connor a cocky grin.
Nothing relieves the mind more than sinking a couple pints with the lads over pool.
I set up another shot, this time to pot the black, the one to win the game. I took a deep breath, line my cue up to the far corner...
And fluff it.
"Tom you're shit"
"Mate you've never met your dad."
If anyone else were to say that to Jermaine, he – along with the rest of us – would kick the shit out of them, but because we've known each other for a couple years now, it's just a bit of 'banter'.
After a couple more pints, we made our way to the club.
Lights flash and glare, fast paced drum and bass blares out from the giant speakers in front of the elevated stage housing the DJ. Bodies twisting and turning occupy the space in front of the stage.
Everyone went their separate ways shortly after we entered the club; I was resting against the bar awaiting another drink. Looking towards the crowd I couldn't pick anyone out that I recognised. As I turned around, I was greeted by a woman with silky black hair, smooth skin and I smile that had me stunned, it's rare that I'm approached, normally I'm doing the heavy lifting, I'm getting some tonight. The conversation flowed and we made our way to the dance floor for a while.
It was still jarring to me that even after an alien invasion everyone could be so calm, yet even thinking that, I myself couldn't help but continue living my life like normal.
As the night went on and the drinks continued to flow, the events started becoming increasingly blurry. But one thing was clear, I had not woken up in my own bed. Furthermore, I hadn't even woken up in my own apartment. I took care to not wake up the sleeping body beside me, if there's one thing I'm bad at, it's maintaining relationships, I'm pretty sure she's too young anyway – of age of course – but still too young for my taste. Also, I'm in a rush. We've got top of the league today and the star player needs to be there.
It was a cloudy day, a bit chilly but the running kept us warm. It was us, red shirt, white shorts, against top of the league in all white. This was an important battle, win this and we're in a battle for promotion.
I received the ball at feet and swerved round my marker who was tight at my back.
"Diag'! Diag'!" I heard from Danny behind me, telling me to cross the ball to the wings, I scanned the field in front of me, up front was Connor and Zion, leading the line tightly marked, to the right was Riad, who was sitting a few yards too deep to the point where he would most likely get beaten by the fullback and to the left, I saw an opportunity.
I swept the ball wide to the man at the touchline, it was Jermaine, the fastest bastard I've ever met; he was only about 28 so he still had some pace on him and using that pace, he breezed past the defenders who raced him to get to the ball. It was just too silky, the way he stopped the ball dead in the air on his left foot, cut in, leaving his man for dead and curving it straight into the far corner of the net. It was a piece of art to witness.
The aftereffects of last night were weighing heavily on me. My stomach was churning, and my head was pounding. I was fighting two battles on that pitch.
We lost attention for a second and all of a sudden, the ball had been sent over the defenders, their striker cut through the line causing mass panic; the whole team rushed back but we weren't fast enough, and he blasted it in the back of the net.
Game on.
But not for much longer as a tennis match ensued as the ball bounced from one head to another until landing in a hefty bit of space on the halfway line.
I sprinted towards the ball and booted it.
Have it!
A satisfying bulge protruded from the back of the net. There were flabbergasted roars from my teammates as they swarmed me. I didn't think that'd work.
The hard-fought battle ended in a 2-1 victory. But now that's over, it's back to my mundane normal life.