Izan stepped out of the black SUV, stretching his arms as the door shut behind him.
The chill of Madrid's morning air hit him, the familiar scent of grass and fresh coffee filling the air around the training complex.
He had barely taken two steps before Nico came jogging up, flashing his trademark grin.
"Didn't think you'd make it on time," Nico teased his tone light but with an edge of mock surprise.
Izan raised an eyebrow. "I was never going to be late."
"Yeah, but we thought we'd have a laugh if you were," Nico winked.
Behind him, Fabian Ruiz, Yamal, and a few other players were gathered, all watching with subtle smirks.
Yamal, grinning like he'd just pulled off something big, was the first to speak.
"You're just in time," he said, his voice pitched with fake sincerity. "We've all been waiting."
Izan shot him a suspicious glance, just as a figure stepped forward.
