Rio Lance sat on his leather bench, staring at his Number 7 shirt. It still felt surreal. A week ago, he was packing boxes in Leeds. Now, he was sitting between Kevin De Bruyne and Bernardo Silva, listening to Jack Grealish explain why he needed a new Gucci headband.
"I'm telling you, Rio," Jack said, leaning back with his feet on a medicine ball. "It's about aerodynamics. If my hair is in my eyes, I can't see the pass. If I can't see the pass, Erling doesn't score. If Erling doesn't score, Pep loses his hair. Again."
Rio chuckled, tying his laces. "I think Pep lost his hair stressing about your defending, Jack."
"Oi! I track back!" Jack threw a sock at him. "Sometimes."
The mood was light. The rondo session was over. The lunch lady bet had been settled. The team was ready for Wembley tomorrow.
But then, the automatic doors slid open with a heavy whoosh.
The room went quiet. Instantly.
