The cabin of the private chartered jet hummed with laughter and chatter as it cut through the clouds en route to Manchester. After two successful preseason friendlies in Italy, the mood inside was light—almost festive. Players lounged in their seats in team-issued tracksuits, snacks in hand, feet propped up, some watching movies, others deep in conversation.
Adriano sat mid-cabin, legs crossed casually, a juice can in hand, surrounded by a small semi-circle of younger players. Kimmich was leaning across the aisle, animatedly arguing about German food versus English breakfasts, while Mbappé and Mac Allister chuckled beside him.
"Mate," Adriano laughed, shaking his head, "you cannot tell me currywurst is better than a proper plate of bacon, beans, eggs, and toast."
Kimmich narrowed his eyes. "At least ours doesn't look like a science experiment gone wrong."
"Oh, come on," said Theo Hernandez, chiming in from the row behind, "have you tried English beans? It's like... ketchup soup."
"Careful," Mac Allister added with a grin, "you're insulting the sacred breakfast of Manchester now."
Kompany passed by their row, stretching his legs, overhearing the debate. "I've lived here long enough to know one thing," he said with mock seriousness, "you don't mess with the full English. That's a yellow card offense."
Laughter erupted across the aisle, even from Kane and Hummels, who were seated a few rows back quietly playing cards.
David Silva, resting with his eyes half-closed beside Aguero, opened one eye and mumbled, "Wake me up when you lot stop insulting breakfast traditions."
Adriano leaned toward Kylian with a smirk. "Hey, remember when we landed in Milan and the customs guy asked if you were lost?"
Mbappé groaned. "Man, I still can't believe that. 'You're too young to be with the first team,' he said. Like I don't look old enough!"
"You don't," said Son, turning around from the seat ahead. "You look like you're bunking off school."
That set off another round of laughter. Even the coaching staff, seated near the front of the plane, glanced back at the noise, sharing smiles.
Despite the success on the pitch, the chemistry off the pitch was what had begun to truly stand out. The veterans made space for the younger players. And Adriano was already proving himself the natural bridge between generations.
"What do you think of the matches?" Theo asked, nudging Adriano with a grin. "Scoring against Juventus, Barcelona, and Real Madrid like that... you made it look easy."
Adriano chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Not easy, just instinct and skills. And besides, Joe saved us many times. Gigi here looks just like him. Did you see that dive? He'll be a top keeper soon."
The teenage keeper blushed from a few rows ahead, earbuds dangling. "You guys make me sound like Buffon already."
"Not yet," chuckled Hummels, "but close. Just don't get too cocky."
As the flight began its descent, Pellegrini stood and gave a small nod, signaling for everyone to settle down. "Good job, everyone," he said, voice calm but firm. "We got what we needed from Italy. A lot of positives. Some rust to shake off, but this is the right direction."
He looked around at the squad. "Now let's bring that energy back to Manchester. It's time to prepare for the real thing."
The players nodded, the mood shifting only slightly from laughter to focus. Everyone understood what came next.
As the wheels of the jet touched down at Manchester Airport, the squad looked out of their windows to see a modest group of fans lined up along the terminal fences. Some held banners, others waved scarves. A few were kids wearing Adriano's AR10 shirt.
"Look at that," Kane said, peering out. "We're not even back for a real match, and they're already here."
"Madness," Hazard said. "And they'll be louder next week."
As the players disembarked, the humid English summer air hit their faces. One by one, they moved down the stairs, greeting the fans with smiles and waves.
Adriano was among the last off, chatting with Salah as they stepped onto the tarmac. A group of kids cheered when they saw him, chanting, "A-D-R-I-A-N-O!"
He gave a sheepish wave, then walked over to the railing where the fans waited. "You guys waited here this whole time?" he asked a young boy up front.
The kid beamed. "We just wanted to say welcome back!"
Adriano ruffled his hair and handed him his wristband. "Thanks. You coming to the next game?"
"My dad got us tickets!"
"Then I'll try to score one for you," he said, flashing a grin. "Deal?"
The kid nodded so hard his cap nearly fell off.
Meanwhile, Hazard was teasing Kane near the terminal entrance. "Two goals in two games and suddenly you're the next Aguero."
Kane shot him a look. "At least I score from open play."
"Ohh!" The players around them erupted in laughter again.
"Careful, Eden," Aguero chimed in. "I'm still here."
As they boarded the team bus, the last of the players took their seats, bags stowed away, music beginning to play from someone's speaker. The back of the bus was already turning into a gaming hub as Son challenged Kimmich to a round of Mario Kart on the Switch.
Pellegrini sat near the front, talking quietly with his staff about the training schedule for the week ahead. Behind him, Adriano slid into a window seat beside David Silva.
"Tired?" Silva asked.
Adriano leaned back. "Not really. Just... ready."
Silva nodded. "You should be. This is your stage now."
Adriano smiled, looking out the window as the bus rolled toward the Etihad. The city skyline slowly came into view through the glass—home again.
And for the first time in weeks, the air smelled of rain.
****
Wembley Stadium — July 21st, 2015.
Community Shield
Manchester City vs Chelsea
The grey skies above Wembley drizzled lightly as Manchester and Chelsea fans gathered by the tens of thousands, draped in their team colors. The buzz was unmistakable—this wasn't just a curtain-raiser; it was a declaration of war for the season to come. The Community Shield may not hold the weight of a league or Champions League trophy, but its symbolism was undeniable. It was where momentum was born.
Inside the stadium, Martin Tyler and Alan Smith were already in full swing in the commentary box as camera feeds swept across the fresh Wembley turf.
"Well, Alan," Martin Tyler began with a smile, "it's the end of July, and the new campaign starts with a matchup we always enjoy—City versus Chelsea. A classic."
Alan chuckled. "Yes, and today is more than just a formality, Martin. Pellegrini's side—Premier League and Champions League holders—are looking to assert themselves early. Mourinho's Chelsea, meanwhile, will be desperate to re-establish their dominance."
Inside the stadium, Martin Tyler's voice hummed with excitement over the live broadcast.
"Good afternoon, wherever you are in the world — this is Wembley. A packed house, two giants of the English game, and the start of what promises to be another thrilling Premier League season. Welcome to the 2015 FA Community Shield. I'm Martin Tyler, alongside me, Alan Smith."
"Cheers, Martin," Alan replied, already scanning the two team lineups on the monitor in front of him. "It's always a bit of a chess match between these two managers, isn't it?"
As the lineups appeared on screen, both commentators analyzed City's bold 4-3-3 attacking setup.
"Oh, absolutely," Martin chuckled. "And that chessboard is very much set today. Let's start with Manchester City."
"Joe Hart gets the nod in goal today. Pellegrini has trusted youth in the pre-season, but he goes for experience now," Martin noted. "The back four is familiar—Kimmich on the right, Robertson left, and that solid pairing of Kompany and Hummels in the middle."
"It's a fresh look, but still frightening," Alan said. "Kimmich and Robertson have energy for days down the flanks. Kompany and Hummels — that's experience and power at centre-back."
"In midfield," Alan added, "David Silva and De Bruyne offer the creativity, while Adriano—well, he's the heartbeat now. Attacking midfielder, playmaker, engine—call him what you like, he's central to everything City do."
"And that midfield combo looks scary, Alan," Martin added with a grin. "Silva the maestro. De Bruyne the architect. And him — Adriano. The boy wonder from Portugal who's already conquered Europe and the world."
The camera panned across the City players warming up. When it landed on Adriano, he waved at the fans with a half-smile, earning loud cheers. The Portuguese star looked composed, confident, and far more at ease than the boy who had made his name just two years ago.
The fans chanted in sync:
"He dances through the field
Painting our dreams
Adriano Riveirooo
He's our King!"
"There's something different about him now," Martin mused, almost proud. "Less urgency in his face, more certainty in his eyes. As if he's not trying to prove himself anymore. He just knows."
Alan nodded. "He's only 19, Martin, and already a World Cup and Champions League winner. Won 2 league titles with 2 different teams. He was absolutely instrumental last season. The goals against Bayern, Barca and Juve, then the magical game-winning goal in the final, this guy's not hype or a rising star anymore. He's the face of Premier League, maybe even the new era of football."
Martin chuckled warmly. "This is a player who knows what he's capable of, and the world has witnessed it time and time again. He did it with Málaga, he did it with Portugal, and he certainly did it with Manchester City. Let us see what magic the 'The King of Manchester' has in store for us tonight."
On the other side stood Chelsea, in their bold blue strip, going through their drills with military precision under Mourinho's cold, watchful eye.
Chelsea (4-3-3 Holding)GK: Thibaut CourtoisDEF: Branislav Ivanović, John Terry (C), Gary Cahill, César AzpilicuetaMID: Nemanja Matić (CDM), Oscar, Cesc FàbregasATT: Pedro, Willian, Diego Costa
"Now this," Martin began, "is classic Mourinho. A fortress-like back four. A midfield set up to frustrate and then pounce."
"Matić will sit deep like a wall in front of Terry and Cahill," Alan added. "Oscar and Fàbregas will be the link-up men. They're not there for flair today — they're there to control the tempo."
"And up front," Martin continued, "Pedro's pace, Willian's trickery, and Costa's… shall we say, 'presence' — it's a trio designed to disrupt and capitalize."
"They'll press hard. They'll try to bully City's midfield early," Alan said. "But Mourinho will have reminded them that any slip in discipline — especially with someone like Adriano around — and it's over."
As the teams completed their final warm-ups, the focus shifted squarely onto Adriano.
The camera panned across Wembley, catching signs that read:"O REI DE MANCHESTER""Our 19-year-old General""From Lisbon to Glory""#AR10Rules"
Down by the pitch, the atmosphere was electric. City fans chanted Adriano's name with rhythmic ease. A few waved Portuguese flags, while others had shirts printed with "KING 10" in light blue. Chelsea fans weren't silent either. They brought their own brand of passion, singing Mourinho's name and jeering City's stars with playful venom.
In the tunnel, the players lined up. Kane turned to Adriano and gave him a nudge. "Ready to dance?"
Adriano smirked. "As long as you keep up."
Kimmich, standing behind them, leaned in. "Just don't make me defend against Hazard in training next week. He's gonna run at us today."
Robertson laughed. "You'll be fine, Josh. I've got the left. Hazard's all yours."
Kompany, ever the captain, took a glance across at the Chelsea lineup. "Keep your heads. Mourinho loves chaos. Stay sharp. Control the tempo, and we'll break them."
As the players walked out into Wembley, greeted by the roaring crowd, the rain lightly misted the pitch—enough to keep it slick, perfect for fast passing. Courtois exchanged a brief handshake with Joe Hart as the national anthem played, and then both teams huddled together for one last word before kickoff.
On the City bench, Pellegrini watched silently. He knew the pressure hadn't eased just because they'd won it all last year. If anything, expectations were heavier. But his players looked ready.
Back in the stands, the fans couldn't help but marvel at the calm presence of their No. 10.
"He's not even sweating," a fan near the tunnel laughed to his mate. "That lad's ice cold."
"Mate, he looks like he's about to play chess, not football."
"He's the reason I bought season tickets this year," someone else added. "That boy's a magician."
When Adriano waved casually to the fans, the whole blue section of the stadium erupted in cheer. Even the Chelsea fans had to glance over.
"Look at the love he's getting," Martin said warmly. "He used to smile nervously at this stage last season. Now, it's like he's in his living room."
"He looks like he owns the pitch already," Alan noted. "And I'll say it again, Martin — the bigger the stage, the better he gets."
Back on the sideline, Pellegrini gave one last instruction to his players, calm but stern. Mourinho, meanwhile, spoke little — only motioning with his hands, his face unreadable.
"Final thoughts, Alan?" Martin asked as the players began walking out to the tune of the FA Community Shield anthem.
"Well, it's early days, but this match will tell us a lot. Can City's youthful core rise again? Can Chelsea's tactical discipline outlast them? And most importantly — how much magic does that lad in the number 10 shirt still have left?"
"Well," Martin smiled, as the players emerged from the tunnel to a wall of noise, "We're about to find out. Adriano Riveiro. Manchester City. Jose Mourinho. Chelsea. Community Shield 2015. Kickoff is moments away."
And so, under the grey sky, with the rain soft and steady, the 2015–16 season was about to begin. The whistle was moments away. The King of Manchester had taken the field. All eyes were now on him.
****
A sea of umbrellas and plastic ponchos dotted the Wembley stands as light rain trickled down from the grey London sky. But inside the arena, energy buzzed like a live wire. The stands were packed, the atmosphere electric, and the cameras zoomed in on the players lining up under the iconic arch.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the curtain-raiser of the English football season!" Martin Tyler's voice rose above the roar of the fans. "Manchester City. Chelsea. Two giants. One shield. Let's get this started."
From the moment the whistle blew, both teams came out swinging, pressing high with intensity. It was clear neither side was here to treat the game as a glorified friendly. Passes zipped, tackles flew, and every ball was contested.
Manchester City immediately tried to assert control. Kimmich and Robertson bombed forward, giving the width, while Kompany and Hummels held the line with practiced authority. Silva floated between the lines, De Bruyne sprayed passes with surgical accuracy, and in the middle of it all—Adriano.
He wore the number 10 with the poise of a maestro. His body moved like water, fluid and graceful, always available, always calm. And with Hazard and Salah flanking the wings like buzzing hornets and Kane darting with tireless hunger, Chelsea were quickly put on the back foot.
23rd Minute:
"Silva receives it… beautiful little flick to Salah… look at that pace!" Alan Smith said as Salah burst down the right.
The Egyptian took a couple of touches before cutting in and curling a low cross toward the six-yard box. Cahill tried to cut it off, but Adriano ghosted in behind him. Courtois rushed out.
"He's going for it—" Tyler shouted.
Adriano didn't flinch. His right foot caught the ball mid-air, stopping it dead with impossible control. He shifted his weight, turned his back slightly to shield it, then—BANG!—struck the falling ball with a left-footed volley as Courtois lunged in.
GOAL!
The net bulged violently. Courtois spun around helplessly. Adriano landed like a dancer, smiling faintly.
Martin Tyler's voice boomed."GOOOOALLLLLLL! ADRIANO! 1-0! That's not a finish—that's a statement! He's the same man who broke so many hearts last season, and he's not stopping soon. What a goal to start the season!"
Adriano sprinted to the touchline, pointing to the ground as if to say, "This is my turf." Then, in perfect rhythm, he mimed removing a crown from his head and tossed it into the stands. His arms spread wide, eyes closed, basking in the thunderous applause from the fans.
Kane leaped on him first. "You royalty now, huh?" he grinned.
"Always was," Adriano smirked.
Salah added, laughing, "You've been watching too many movies."
Chelsea tightened their shape. Mourinho was animated on the touchline, gesturing furiously, urging Fabregas and Oscar to drop deeper. Matic now shadowed Adriano more closely, trying to restrict his movement. But the Portuguese midfielder looked completely unbothered, gliding through markers like smoke.
City pressed forward relentlessly. Silva nearly scored after a neat one-two with De Bruyne, but Cahill blocked his shot at the last second.
36th Minute:
Hazard danced past Ivanovic with a burst of acceleration and cut inside. He spotted Adriano peeling away from Matic and Terry and slipped it to him.
Adriano didn't hesitate—he chipped the ball lightly over Terry's outstretched boot. Kane read it like a book. He sprinted into the channel, launched himself forward, and met it with a glancing header.
GOAL!
Courtois barely moved.
"Harry Kane makes it 2-0! And what a delivery from Adriano!" Alan Smith said, voice rising in excitement.
Kane wheeled away with both arms pumping, then slid on his knees towards the City fans. Adriano followed and leaped onto his back with a grin. "You sure you ain't on drugs today?"
"Only the drug of goals, mate," Kane panted, laughing.
Pellegrini offered a small smile on the sidelines. Mourinho, meanwhile, crossed his arms tighter, already muttering to Rui Faria. The Chelsea bench looked nervous.
City's tempo didn't slow. De Bruyne had a curling free kick saved at full stretch. Kompany almost scored from a corner, but his header went inches wide. Hummels, dominant at the back, barked orders as Chelsea tried to recover.
In the stands, chants of "Adriano! Adriano!" echoed loud. Fans waved Portuguese flags. Some even wore fake crowns.
Martin Tyler chuckled, "They've already anointed him king, haven't they?"
"Deservedly," Alan Smith agreed. "He's everywhere. Running the game, setting the tempo. A goal and assist in 40 minutes? Doesn't get more complete than this."
Before halftime, Chelsea had their first real chance. Willian slipped past Robertson and found Costa in the box. But Joe Hart, sharp and focused, charged out and made himself big. The ball rebounded to Oscar, but his shot flew over the bar.
Groans from the Chelsea supporters.
Half-Time Whistle:
As the players walked down the tunnel, City fans applauded. The scoreboard read Manchester City 2 – 0 Chelsea.
Adriano jogged with a calmness that stood in contrast to the high-octane game he was orchestrating. Kane slapped him on the back. "Still not tired?"
"I'm just getting started," Adriano said, not even breaking a sweat.
De Bruyne grinned beside them. "If he adds a second-half goal, just give him the trophy now."
They laughed as they disappeared into the tunnel, the rain still falling gently over Wembley—but the blue half was already shining.
****
The whistle blew, and the second half was underway under the summer sky. Chelsea were trailing 2–0, and Mourinho stood on the touchline, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He had reshuffled during the break — bringing on Oscar for Mikel to add more creativity, and Ivanovic was pushing higher up to give more width. It was clear Chelsea intended to press high and claw their way back into the game.
But City had different plans.
From the opening minute of the second half, Manchester City showed no signs of relaxing. Casemiro sat deep like a sentinel, intercepting every loose ball that came through midfield. David Silva and Kevin De Bruyne moved like clockwork, threading passes through narrow gaps. Adriano, in his iconic number 10 shirt — AR10, remained the orchestrator in chief.
Martin Tyler: "You just get the sense that everything City do flows through this young man. AR10 — it's more than a shirt number now. He's everywhere."
Alan Smith: "And he's not just creating. He's dropping deep to collect, pressing high to win the ball, and always looking for that gap behind the Chelsea line. He's maturing frighteningly fast."
Chelsea tried to mount pressure in the 51st minute. Fabregas floated a long diagonal ball to Hazard, who brought it down expertly and darted in. A one-two with Oscar gave him a sliver of space on the left, and he let one fly toward the bottom corner — but Donnarumma was quick to respond, diving low to palm it away. Applause rang out from the Chelsea fans, but groans followed as Diego Costa headed the rebound wide from six yards out.
City regrouped instantly.
In the 55th minute, a sweeping counter followed. De Bruyne turned inside and released Hazard (the City one), who surged forward with the ball. Cahill came across and clipped him slightly. The referee let play continue under advantage, and the ball was worked out to Alexander-Arnold, who whipped in a cross toward the far post — Kane nearly got there but was muscled off by Terry at the last second.
Alan Smith: "This is vintage City now. High-speed transitions, precision delivery… Chelsea are being stretched."
In the 62nd minute, City won a corner after a long-range effort from Silva deflected off Zouma. De Bruyne jogged over to take it, gesturing with his fingers before launching the ball into the box. There was movement everywhere — Hummels and Van Dijk dragged defenders toward the near post, while Kane tangled with Terry.
But Adriano waited just behind them all, poised. The ball arced through, perfectly placed, and as the defenders missed their marks, Adriano leapt into the air unchallenged.
His timing was impeccable. He met the ball mid-air, twisting his body to generate power, and sent a bullet header towards the bottom right corner.
Bang.
Courtois had no chance. The ball slammed into the net.
Martin Tyler (shouting over the roar): "GOOOAAALL! Adriano AGAIN! It's 3–0! Absolutely clinical from the number 10! A header worthy of any final!"
Adriano sprinted to the corner flag, dropped to one knee, and raised his hand like a conductor before pounding his chest. The City fans erupted.
"AR10! AR10!" chants boomed from the stands as blue flares began to rise from the fans behind the goal.
His teammates mobbed him again — Silva kissed the top of his head, Kane ruffled his hair, and De Bruyne just laughed, arms raised.
Alan Smith: "Two goals, one assist, total dominance. He's running the show."
Chelsea were rattled. Their full-backs stopped pushing forward. Fabregas looked frustrated. Mourinho, pacing now, tried shouting instructions — but the belief seemed to drain from the Chelsea players.
In the 68th minute, Pellegrini made a change — Aguero on for Kane, who received a warm handshake from the manager and a huge cheer from the crowd.
Three minutes later, in the 71st, Aguero made his presence felt.
Silva played a quick one-two with Casemiro in midfield, then slotted a diagonal ball to Adriano, who was now deeper. Adriano flicked it around Cahill with one touch and turned — suddenly in space.
He looked up once.
A delicate through ball followed — low, precise, between Terry and Zouma. Aguero read it like a book, sprinting into the gap and taking it in stride.
One touch, then a low shot past Courtois' left boot. Goal.
Martin Tyler: "AGUEROOOO! That's FOUR! And what a pass from Adriano — the weight, the vision, the confidence!"
Aguero slid on his knees to the corner, pointing back at Adriano with a grin. The Brazilian laughed and pointed back with both hands before high-fiving Silva and De Bruyne.
It was a celebration of class — and it marked the death knell for Chelsea's hopes.
In the 76th minute, Pellegrini made more changes. He brought on Son Heung-Min to a loud applause — the South Korean forward making his official debut after his summer move. He replaced Hazard on the left.
And it didn't take long.
84th minute, City broke again after Chelsea lost the ball high up. Casemiro released De Bruyne, who surged into midfield and sent the ball right to Adriano.
Adriano paused, then noticed Son sprinting into the left channel. He floated a lovely weighted pass across the edge of the box.
Son brought it down expertly, cut in onto his right foot, and curled it low into the bottom far corner.
Martin Tyler: "GOOOAAALLL! SON ON DEBUT! What a finish! 5–0! This is ruthless from Manchester City!"
The stadium erupted. Fans were on their feet. Flags waved. Son sprinted to the touchline and performed a small bow before hugging Adriano and the rest of the squad.
Pellegrini stood on the touchline and offered a rare smile, his arms folded as if saying, That'll do.
Alan Smith: "This team… is terrifying. And Adriano — well, what more can you say?"
As the match entered the final few minutes, Chelsea were reduced to damage control. Costa fouled Casemiro in frustration in the 88th, earning a yellow card. Silva and De Bruyne kept the ball calmly, stroking passes between them to run down the clock.
And then — the final whistle.
Full Time: Manchester City 5 – 0 Chelsea
Adriano stood in the center circle, arms raised as he clapped toward the roaring City end. His name echoed around Wembley.
Martin Tyler: "It's a statement win — a five-star performance to open the season. Manchester City lift the Community Shield, and AR10? Man of the Match. Undisputed."
Silva hugged Adriano . Aguero ruffled his hair again while grinning. Son was excitedly running around winning a trophy soon after arrival. Kimmich and Hummels were signing in German while Kane and Hazard provided the beat. It was a collective win.
And as they lifted the Community shield together under the raining blue and white confetti, it was clear:
City had started the season with fire. And Adriano was already on another level.