Thursday afternoon at the City Football Academy was usually a time for recovery shakes, massage tables, and Jack Grealish cheating at Uno.
The mood was light. They were Premier League champions, Community Shield winners, and Rio's shirt sales were funding the club's electricity bill for the next decade.
Rio was sitting in the players' lounge, legs elevated in compression boots. He was half-listening to Phil Foden explain why he needed a new tattoo of a wizard on his neck.
"It's symbolism, Rio," Phil insisted, gesturing with a piece of toast. "Magic. Like my touch. Get it?"
"I get it, Phil," Rio laughed, scrolling idly on his phone. "But maybe don't put it on your neck. You'll look like a soundcloud rapper."
"What's wrong with—"
BUZZ.
Rio's phone vibrated.
Then Phil's phone buzzed.
Then Jack's. Then Erling's.
Across the room, the large TV screen mounted on the wall, which was playing muted Sky Sports News, suddenly flashed a bright, urgent red.
BREAKING NEWS.
