The Urchins haven't been the best football firm. With the Heysel Stadium disaster on their name and the stabbing in Rome, they weren't the most loved firm of all time. Not even close. But this was all history, in the past. That was all in the time of Richard Thatcher. His days have been over for a long time.

For a long time, John Jenkins was Richard's right hand man, until the Heysel drama. John took over Richard's job. In Liverpool it is known that John saved The Urchins from more drama as they had been through.

In 2004, John passed his firm over to his son Paul Jenkins. Paul was determined to get Liverpool's reputation back.

On the train from Liverpool to London, was a group of nine men and one girl seated. The men, all dressed in trainers and white sneakers with shaved heads, had been talking about the last match against West Ham United which was three years ago. West Ham United won 3-2. They gained a few worried glances of mothers who were with their children when the men started talking about a scrap. One woman shook her head disapprovingly.

And then, the girl. The girl was seated next to one of the men, if you would see her by herself you wouldn't place her with those boys. She looked clean cut, with her very tight black jeans that had a small silver zipper on the end of the jeans, a long white top, a red vest that seemed to be from one of the boys and black shiny pumps. A big black bag was seated on her lap.

Suddenly, the boy seated next to her, brought his lips against hers and pulled her into a rough kiss.

Meanwhile, in the Brigid Abbey Pub, the entire GSE were drinking their beer.

'Do you think that the Urchins got themselves back together? They were shit the last time.' Ike said.

Bovver shook his head, 'they're all a bunch of pretty boys. Big mounts, that's all they've got.'

'Ey, Luce. Did you find anything out yet?' Paul asked. It was usually Lucy's duty to find things out about the firm they were fighting. But the history of the GSE was rarely unknown by other firms. The dead of Tommy Hatcher's son spread around the football world fast. Lucy looked up from her mobile phone, she had been messaging Bethany.

'Not really. But I heard there's some yank there.' Lucy said. Paul snorted.

'A bloody yank? What's a yank doing with the GSE?' Totsy asked. Lucy shrugged.

'Kyle said he's good mates with their leading man.' Lucy answered.

'And I thought they were trying to get their reputation back.' Smithy said, grinning.

Stepping out of the train twenty minutes later, Scott wrapped his strong arms around Lucy's shoulders, pulling her closer towards his body. He kissed the top of her head and smiled. Lucy led the nine boys to their hotel. It was in a small, cosy five story house in a very busy street.

'What the bloody hell is this?' Neil Mills asked, the oldest one. You could clearly see that he had been in this for a very long time. He had scars on most visible parts of his body. Unlike the other boys, he was completely bald, but that was only because he had surgery on his head more than once which stopped his hair from growing on several places so he shaved off all his hair.

'I wanted to go shopping, so I decided that I'd get a hotel close to Oxford Street and rather close to West Ham Football stadium.'

'Rather close? Bloody hell, no more fucking women aloud on those fucking trips. Those aren't fucking students trips, Paul.' Neil said rather upset.

Scott smiled comfortingly at Lucy. She walked in the hotel, they had to walk three staircases before they were in the actual hotel.

'Hi, I made a reservation on Jenkins, Lucy Jenkins. For 10 people, four rooms.' Lucy said friendly to the man that stood behind the desk. He typed something in on his computer and then spread the four keys over on the desk.

'Those two,' The man started pointing at the two keys on the right. 'Are the ones for the bedrooms for two. And the others are for three.' Lucy nodded, she took one for two people for her and Scott and let the rest fight it out themselves.

Arriving in their hotel room, Scott picked Lucy up and threw her on the bed. He kissed Lucy several times softly on the lips making Lucy smile.

Banging on Lucy's and Scott's door interrupted the couple from going any farther than ripping off each others clothing.

'In a minute!' Lucy shouted to the person behind the door. 'Could you open the door?' She asked Scott as she took all her clothing into the small bathroom.

By the time Lucy returned out of the bathroom, Scott had already left. But Scott had left a small note written on a paper from the hotel on the bed.

Getting some drinks with the boys,

be back later, possibly morning

love you x


It said in Scott's messy handwriting. But Lucy knew very well that "getting some drinks with the boys" meant more than just getting pissed. She knew, that the next day she would be greeted by a badly bruised Scott.

She hated that he was doing it, but there was no escaping it. Even if Scott wouldn't exist, she still would have got in touch with all sorts of football hooligans. Her father was one, her uncle and now even her brother. She got used to be the one to clean up their cuts after they came home from a fight.

Lucy got her mobile phone out of her black purse and typed in a message.

Have fun & be safe. I love you.

She always did but it never seemed to hold them in.