The bus rolled up to the familiar entrance of the Colney Complex, the sound of the engine winding down as it came to a stop.
The evening air was crisp as Izan stepped off, stretching his legs after the long ride.
His mind was still spinning from the match, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but the thought of getting home soothed him.
As the other players made their way toward the locker room, he started to head in the same direction, but then he heard a voice behind him.
"You heading out this way?" It was Martin Ødegaard, the captain, glancing over at Izan.
"Yeah," Izan replied, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "I was going to call a driver, but I don't want to disturb him—he might be asleep by now."
Ødegaard smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "No problem. I'm heading that way too. I'll give you a ride."
Izan raised an eyebrow, but the offer was too good to turn down. "Thanks, mate. You sure?"
