The parking lot hummed with quiet after the car chaos.
Most of the squad hadn't rushed to leave.
They leaned on car doors and loitered in small clusters, soaking up the warmth of victory and the rare freedom of a two-day break.
Saka still stood near his Audi, bouncing a bottle cap between his knuckles like a coin flip while staring in the direction Izan had left in.
Rice leaned against the hood of his Range Rover, arms crossed, listening while Ødegaard recounted some half-serious story about pre-season conditioning and near-death sprint drills.
"Man should've let me in that Gemera," Saka muttered, shaking his head.
"Just once. Let me feel rich."
"Yeah," Rice chuckled.
One by one, the boys peeled off.
Rice gave a lazy salute before ducking into his car while Ødegaard followed, glancing once toward the lot exit like he half-expected Izan to circle back.
Saka lingered the longest.
Then he got in, started the engine, and rolled out, nodding to no one in particular.
