Alex sat in the backseat of the hearse. Mark was driving.
It was 2 AM. They were on a highway somewhere between Madrid and the airport.
The hearse was playing classical music. Chopin.
"Why are we listening to this?" Mark asked, adjusting his rearview mirror.
"It is calming," Alex said, rubbing his forehead. "We need calm. We just played a war."
"I don't want calm!" Mark shouted. "I want techno! I want noise! I scored a goal!"
"Technically," Jude said from the passenger seat, "you assisted a goal. And you ran into a post."
"The post attacked me!" Mark insisted. "It was a foul!"
Alex closed his eyes. His friends were idiots. But they were his idiots.
His phone buzzed.
It wasn't Milo. It wasn't his dad.
It was a notification from a news app.
"BREAKING: LIONEL MESSI ANNOUNCES RETIREMENT."
Alex sat up straight. "Guys."
"What?" Jude asked, turning around.
"Messi. He retired."
The car went silent. Even Mark stopped tapping the steering wheel.
