Welcome to the Jungle

"Come out of your bedroom, Casey! It's not like we're going to the prom!" her best friend, Sam Querrey called through the bedroom door.

Casey hastily put in the black pearl earrings her mother had gotten for her on her sixteenth birthday. "Yeah, but prom never had paparazzi," she muttered to herself.

She stood from the vanity and slipped into a pair of modest black pumps. With one more glance into the full-length mirror she left her bedroom and walked into the living room where she was met with a loud cat call from Andy Roddick.

Casey blushed and pulled down the hem of her dress. She was very glad that Andy's wife, Brooklyn had to be in Los Angeles for a photoshoot tonight.

"No, don't do that. You need to show off those amazing legs," Andy said from his seat at the bar.

Casey laughed as she took seat next to him. "May I remind you, Andy, that you are married."

"If he doesn't want her I'll take her," Sam said from behind the bar as he poured five shots of tequila--one for everyone in the room.

"Back off, Sam. I've got dibs!" Carter chimed in, a bottle of beer in his hand.

Casey laughed and turned to the only guy who hadn't laid claim on Andy's wife, John Isner, another best friend of hers.

"What about you?" she asked him.

He shook his head, smiling. "Not interested."

"Ready for shots, ladies?" Sam said as he pushed a shot towards everyone.

She grabbed the tiny shot glass and raised it into the air with the others. "What should we toast to?"

Carter was the first one to speak. "To the last time we can drink until the tournament's over!"

"Here, here!" the rest chorused together.

Casey, Carter, Andy, Sam, and John brought their shot glasses to their lips and threw the amber liquid quickly into their mouths. One by one, sharp clinks sounded over the music playing in the background as shot glasses were slammed onto the bar.

Casey cringed as the bitter taste of tequila washed over her tongue and singed the back of her throat. "Whoa," she whispered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

***

Casey made her way down the red carpet, one foot in front of the other. She had only been in her pumps for an hour and already her feet were killing her.

I guess this is punishment for wearing sneakers 24/7, she thought as concentrated on keeping a smile on her face for the cameras.

The step-and-repeat was only a few feet away. She could see Serena and Venus Williams standing in a variety of poses before continuing into the nightclub that was being used as the location for the party tonight.

Casey grinned when she felt both of her arms being looped through by two others. Sam and John were flanking her sides with wide grins of their faces.

"Ready to get your picture taken, beautiful?" John whispered into her ear.

Casey smirked. It was only when John had a few drinks in him that he would call her beautiful otherwise he was too bashful to say anything of the sort.

"Always ready, Johnny. The pictures are really the only reason I come to these things," she joked.

It was their turn for the step-and-repeat.

The sound of New York City was drowned out by the shouting of the hundreds of paparazzi that were kept behind a velvet rope like vicious animals awaiting their dinner. Their voices flooded Casey's ears and the only word that was clear to her was her name.

"Casey!"

"Over here, Casey! Look this way!"

The three shots of tequila were doing cartwheels in her bloodstream and her stomach was swimming in the glass of champagne they had on the limo ride to the party.

Casey felt fabulous and she flashed her white teeth at the paparazzi.

After several dozen pictures had been snapped they were ushered through the nightclub doors by tall bouncers dressed in all black.

Inside the music was loud and the lights were dimmed, it took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust. She was in awe at the scene before her. The club was huge, bigger than any nightclub she'd been in before. The lights near the dance floor were changing from red to purple to orange, making the club glow with color.

She was brought out of her stupor by a voice that sounded like a whisper but she knew that Carter was really shouting into her ear. "Here comes the agent."

Casey saw their agent, Eli Miller, pushing his way through the crowd. He was wearing one of his business suits that Casey quickly came to realize was his daily uniform.

"How are my two favorite clients?"

Eli Miller was a super agent whose clients ranged from actors and actresses, singers and songwriters to professional athletes. He was a short-tempered Jewish man that sometimes was so inappropriate it never stopped amusing Casey.

Carter shook Eli's hand while Casey received a kiss on the cheek.

"Very well," Casey said, noticing Eli's Blackberry that was always attached to his hand.

"How are you doing?" Carter asked, straightening his skinny tie absentmindedly.

"I just signed Justin Bieber and the Jonas Brothers. My dick's hard just thinking about all the money I'm going to make off them. So, how do you think I'm doing?" Eli said with a smirk.

Carter grinned, fighting laughter and slung his arm around Casey. "This one here has Bieber fever like you wouldn't believe! You've got to introduce them."

Eli shook his head and swiped his finger across his lips as if to hide a smirk. He then winked at Casey. "God, the money that relationship would bring me," he mused, "but, I think you should wait til the kid hits puberty."

"You know me," Casey shrugged, "I like 'em young."

Carter laughed through his nose and hugged Casey closer to him. "Now that's what I'm talking about. Hell yeah!"

"I knew I signed you two for a reason," Eli said.

"What can I say," Carter said as he grabbed a beer off the tray that seemed to be floating above them.

***

Casey, Carter, Andy, Sam and John were seated in a circular booth with champagne and wine bottles littering the table. It was four days until the first day of the tournament and they were all sure that a hangover couldn't last that long.

Casey was leaning over John trying to talk to the young Melanie Oudin but their words were lost in the music and their conversation had become a string of mutters and laughter.

Carter and Andy had their arms slung around each other, beers in their hands and enjoying watching Sam stare blankly at the changing lights.

"Do you guys want me to move?" John asked, looking from Melanie to Casey.

Casey stared innocently at Melanie before shrugging and sinking back into the soft leather cover of the booth. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and she couldn't feel her tongue when she ran it against her teeth--but she could feel John staring at her.

She turned her head up toward him.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," John said, shaking his head.

Casey grabbed the bottle of five hundred dollar red wine and thrusted it toward him. "More wine?"

"Su--"

"CASEY!"

She looked at Carter, shooting him a look of confusion. "What?"

"Your boy! Nine o'clock!" Carter shouted, throwing his finger repeatedly to the right.

Casey looked to her left and saw Novak Djokovic in a great suit with a brilliant smile on his face and a glass of white wine in his hand. He was talking animatedly with Rafael Nadal, a known good friend of his.

She was staring but she couldn't help herself. As much as she enjoyed seeing him peel off a sweaty t-shirt after he was finished playing a tennis match she was loving him in this suit.

Novak turned his head and his eye seemed to catch on the table they were seated at. He and Rafael turned their heads at the same time to look at the table full of roudy Americans.

Casey's eyes widened when she saw Novak smile and give a small wave. Casey's heart stopped and she could feel her knees weaken. It was like she was back in middle school all over again when the most popular boy had asked her for a pencil. She shot back into her cushioned seat and blushed.

"Real slick, Casey," Sam gaped dully.

"Yo, Nole's my boy. I'll hook that up if you want me too, Casey," Andy offered.

"'Nole's my boy'"? Since when?" Casey questioned.

"Don't you remember that party after the French? We became friends that night," Andy said before taking a swig of beer.

"Wait, wait, wait...was that the night you and him kept going into that karaoke room and singing I'm Too Sexy?" Carter asked.

Andy nodded exaggeratedly. "That's the one."

"God, that was like three freakin' years ago. He probably doesn't even remember," Casey said as she poured herself a new glass of wine.

Andy scoffed. "No one could forget a night like that."