Manchester was buzzing.
The morning after their dominant 5–0 win in the Community Shield, newspapers were splashed with headlines like "AR10 Strikes Again," "The King starts where he left off," and "Heung-Min Hits the Ground Running."
Analysts on every radio channel, TV show, and fan podcast couldn't stop talking about Manchester City's performance. But within the Etihad Campus, the mood wasn't one of arrogance—it was something more dangerous. Confidence.
Inside the players' lounge at the training complex, the squad had gathered for recovery and light training. The room was alive with chatter. Foam rollers were scattered across the floor, physios moved around with stretch bands, and the large flat screens mounted on the wall played replays from yesterday's game.
"Oi, rewind that again," Kane pointed with a protein bar in hand, sprawled across the massage table as he watched his goal. "Look how high I jumped, Courtois didn't stand a chance."
"You jumped like a man trying to headbutt the moon," laughed De Bruyne, tossing a towel over his shoulder. "But credit where it's due. Clinical finish."
Salah chimed in from the couch. "He's just excited he finally got a pass from Adriano," he teased, causing the whole group to burst into laughter.
Adriano, seated cross-legged on a mat with ice packs on both knees, just grinned without looking up. "I pass to those who run, not walk," he said casually.
Kimmich, half-foam rolling, raised a finger. "He's got a point. Your pressing game yesterday? Man possessed."
Kane chuckled, unfazed. "It's all tactics, lads. Run like a maniac, score like a saint."
At the far end of the room, Son Heung-Min sat quietly with a wide smile, still soaking in everything. He was surrounded by a few of the younger players and Robertson, who had taken to guiding the new arrivals.
"You've got the whole England talking, mate," Robertson said, clapping Son's back. "First game, first goal. That finish was clean."
"Too clean," added Kompany from the weight bench. "I watched it twice this morning. First touch, shift to the right, no panic. Looked like you've been here for years."
Son lowered his head bashfully. "Thank you, captain. I just followed the moment… and Adriano's instructions."
"Wait, wait—he's learning already," Silva laughed. "Rule number one in City: Trust Adriano, and you will score."
Adriano rolled his eyes and looked up at Son. "I told you, just drift into space near the far post. It always opens up when the midfield shifts to Kevin's side."
Son nodded, clearly eager to absorb more.
Yaya Touré walked in with a coffee cup, smirking. "Back in my day, we didn't have star boys giving tactical masterclasses after two pre-season games."
"Well," Dybala chimed in with a mischievous grin, "back in your day, you didn't have AR10 either."
That sparked another round of laughter.
Joe Hart strolled in next, phone in hand. "Boys, I just saw this meme. Someone put Adriano's face on Mufasa's body and wrote 'Everything the light touches is yours, AR10.'"
The room exploded.
Even Pellegrini, passing by the hallway, peeked in with a faint smile and muttered, "It's going to be a long season."
—
Later in the afternoon, several players gathered near the media room for their press and photo sessions. Son was scheduled for a few interviews with local outlets after his dream debut.
In the hallway, he caught up with Adriano, who was pulling his hoodie over his head, getting ready to head home.
"Nervous?" Adriano asked, pausing beside him.
Son nodded slightly. "A bit. Still hard to believe yesterday happened."
"You earned it. And you handled the pressure well," Adriano replied, his tone calm but genuine. "Just keep doing what you did yesterday. Make the space, trust your instincts—and don't listen too much to the noise."
"Everyone here makes it feel easier," Son said. "You especially."
Adriano smiled faintly and clapped his shoulder. "That's what a team's for."
Behind them, Robertson leaned over to Dybala and whispered, "How is it that Adriano sounds like a monk and a mob boss at the same time?"
Dybala laughed. "Because he knows he can drop five goals in a game and still look like he hasn't broken a sweat."
Meanwhile, in the media room, reporters were already salivating for stories.
One asked Pellegrini, "Do you think Manchester City are the clear favorites to win the league this season?"
The manager gave a measured answer. "It's too early. We've had a good start. That's all it is—a start. This is England. Nothing's guaranteed. But yes, I believe we have the right squad."
When asked about Son, he smiled more freely. "He was excellent. Calm, clinical. But I'm more pleased with how he's integrated with the team. That's more important in the long run."
As Adriano's name came up—again, and again—the tone shifted. The journalists' voices always grew sharper, more speculative. Was this his season? Could he stay fit and finally lead a full-season charge?
Pellegrini just nodded. "He knows what he wants this season. He's ready."
—
The buzz wasn't confined to journalists. Back in the streets of Manchester, City fans were filling pubs and barbershops, talking endlessly.
At one fan café, a group of supporters were gathered under a large mural of Aguero and Kompany.
"Did you see how Adriano controlled that ball before the volley?" one of them said, animatedly waving his arms. "Like gravity only works for him!"
A younger fan added, "Mate, Courtois didn't even dive. Just watched it fly in like a bystander."
"Son's goal was class too," another chimed in. "Looks like we've got firepower from everywhere now."
A lady sipping coffee nearby interjected, "It's only one match, lads. Long season ahead."
The old-timer beside her nodded, "True. But if AR10 stays fit… they can take anyone."
Even rival fans couldn't help but admit it online.
@RedDevil_96: "City's annoying. But you gotta respect Adriano. Guy plays like he's scripting his own highlight reel."
@ArsenalForever21: "Son + Adriano link-up already looking lethal. That 5-0 wasn't just a win, it was a statement."
—
At the Etihad offices, City's social media team was barely keeping up with the engagement. "AR10" was trending globally. Son's debut goal clip already passed 5 million views.
Their content editor turned around, "We should post the slow-mo of Adriano's volley again with that Beethoven track."
The social lead smirked. "Why not just change the bio to: 'As long as Adriano's fit, we're winning.'"
And that was the growing consensus—not just in Manchester, but all over England.
The analysts on Match of the Day, Sky Sports, and TalkSport all had their own takes, but they all circled around the same theme:
Manchester City were dangerous.
And Adriano Riveiro, was ready for war.
****
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Manchester City's training complex, casting long shadows over the neatly clipped grass outside. Inside one of the private meeting rooms, laughter echoed lightly as Jorge Mendes closed his black leather folder and gave Adriano a firm clap on the shoulder.
"It's done," Mendes said, grinning. "You're locked in until 2020."
Adriano leaned back in the plush leather chair and exhaled with a relaxed smile. The formalities were over. The pen lay still atop the crisp contract pages — his signature now inked onto one of the most lucrative deals in world football. He was just 19 years old, but the figures told the world a different story.
"55 million euros a year… including bonuses," Mendes added with a smirk. "Loyalty bonus would push it up to 65."
Adriano laughed. "65 million? For running around in circles and nutmegging people?"
Jorge raised an eyebrow. "Not just anyone runs circles around like you, kid."
Adriano stood and stretched, playfully mimicking the way pundits talk. "Ladies and gentlemen, the youngest player in the world to get a 'Messi-Ronaldo' contract. He also eats cereal at 2AM and forgets where he puts his charger."
Mendes chuckled. "Still more mature than half the boardrooms I've sat in."
The City staff member assigned to the signing stepped in with a broad smile. "All sorted, sir. Official announcement's ready for noon."
Adriano nodded. "Let them go crazy."
***
By the time the statement went live, social media exploded. The headlines were everywhere within the hour:
"Manchester City ties down Adriano till 2020 — €55M deal sends shockwaves across Europe!"
"AR10's new deal puts him among the highest of football's financial giants"
Some pundits praised City's bold move, calling it the perfect way to secure their crown jewel. Others questioned the decision. "It's too soon," some claimed. "He's a brilliant player, but this inflates the market!"
But the fans? The fans were all in.
Outside the Etihad, a group of supporters gathered that evening, waving banners and chanting. "AR10! AR10!" one shouted into a megaphone. "Give the man a throne!"
Adriano watched it all on his phone, sitting on the couch in his flat with a bowl of popcorn on his lap and Son Heung-Min lounging across from him.
"You're basically richer than half the Premier League owners now," Son said between mouthfuls of grapes. "I should've asked for a raise just for being your friend."
Adriano snorted. "I'll get you a fruit basket instead."
Son grinned. "Already have one. Give me Hazard's Netflix password and we're even."
The door swung open and Kevin De Bruyne walked in with a bag of takeaway. "Oi, contract boy! Don't think you're skipping the dinner you promised us."
"Relax," Adriano said with a mock bow. "The meal is on the crown-wearing king of Manchester."
They all laughed, and the mood only got lighter as the rest of the squad started showing up one by one. Kane, Robertson, Salah, even Yaya Toure strolled in looking amused. It had somehow turned into an unofficial team gathering.
Casemiro and Kimmich plopped down beside Son, the former poking him. "You were the real story last match, debut goal and all. You're going to be a media darling soon."
Son grinned. "Maybe. But our prince here just signed for 55 million a year. I think I'll let him take the spotlight."
Adriano raised his arms. "Let's be honest. You all love me more for how I open up the defense, not for what I cost."
"Lies," said Sterling as he walked in late. "We love you for the snacks you always bring on away trips."
More laughter followed.
Trent Alexander-Arnold nudged Adriano. "You think Ronaldo or Messi ever had this much fun at nineteen?"
Adriano leaned back and smiled. "I doubt they had Son lying across their sofa asking for grapes either."
***
The days off after the Community Shield were a blessing. Training sessions were light, recovery-focused, and Pellegrini gave the team space to relax and reset. But Adriano didn't stop completely. Even during rest days, he'd hit the gym for short sessions, often joined by Son, Kane, or Mbappe.
On one of the mornings, Adriano walked into the gym with Kylian, both sipping protein shakes. Kane was already mid-sprint on the treadmill.
"How is he still running?" Kylian muttered. "He's been doing that since I walked in."
Adriano smirked. "He's been doing that since he was born."
Kane spotted them and waved. "Morning! Thought you two were gonna nap through the whole break!"
"We just wanted to see you evolve into a Duracell bunny first," Adriano replied, earning a chuckle from Kane.
Even with the rest days, the conversations stayed light, the mood vibrant. Theo Hernandez challenged Adriano to a quick footwork drill in the corner of the gym, and after five minutes of competition, the room erupted in chaos when Theo tripped over a resistance band and landed in a heap.
"Penalty!" yelled Salah.
"He dived," added Son.
"I want VAR," Theo groaned from the floor.
***
Outside the media continued buzzing. Former players and analysts debated on various shows.
Sky Sports Panel –
"Is Adriano worth 55 million a year?" asked the host.
"He's 19, and he's already dictating games like a veteran," said Jamie Carragher. "Honestly? If Messi and Ronaldo are getting it, why not him?"
"He just needs to stay consistent," added Gary Linekar. "That's all. If he plays a full season like last one? It'll be a bargain."
***
By the third day of the break, Adriano got a call from Mendes.
"Just a heads up," Mendes said, "Real Madrid, Bayern, and PSG all asked when your release clause kicks in."
Adriano laughed. "Tell them to focus on their own squads."
"You're happy then?"
"Beyond happy. But I'm not slowing down."
"Good," Mendes replied. "You're only just getting started."
Adriano hung up and tossed the phone onto the couch beside him. The sun was setting behind the Manchester skyline, casting warm golden hues across the glass windows. He grabbed a football resting nearby and twirled it on his finger, smiling to himself.
The league was just around the corner. A new season. New goals. New challenges.
But one thing remained clear — Manchester City had put their faith in him, and he wasn't planning on letting anyone down.
Not now. Not ever.
*****
Late afternoon sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adriano's modern Manchester home, casting a warm glow across the polished floors and minimalist decor. The mood inside the house was light. Calm, even. For the first time in weeks, Adriano didn't have to think about tactics, fitness drills, or press interviews. The Community Shield win had earned the squad a few days of well-deserved rest, and Adriano was finally able to take a breather.
His phone buzzed gently on the couch beside him as he leaned back, legs stretched out in his grey joggers, a plain white t-shirt hanging comfortably over his shoulders. He picked up the call with a small smile—it was his parents.
"Olá, mãe. Olá, pai," Adriano greeted, propping the phone up against a cushion as he sat upright. Rosa's voice came through first, warm and immediately concerned.
"Meu filho, you haven't been sleeping enough, have you? Your eyes look tired! Are you eating well? And don't lie."
Julio's voice followed from the background, chuckling. "You're talking to the highest-paid footballer in the world, Rosa. Of course he's eating well."
Adriano laughed. "I'm fine, mãe. Honest. The club's taking care of everything—nutrition, recovery, the works. And yes, I'm getting sleep too. Just a bit of adrenaline after the match, you know?"
"You better be," Rosa said sternly. "Don't let all this fame and money get to your head. You're still our boy. Remember that."
"I do," Adriano said with a nod, his voice softening. "That's why I'm calling. Just to check in."
Julio's face finally appeared on screen, his eyes bright. "So… I heard something about a jet?"
Adriano grinned. "Yeah. Bought one. So now you two don't have an excuse not to visit. I'll send it to bring you both here anytime you want."
Rosa gasped, covering her mouth. "You bought a jet? Meu Deus, Adriano, that's insane!"
But Julio was already nodding approvingly. "Now we're talking. That's my boy! A private jet! I'm telling you, Rosa, we should start packing!"
"Don't encourage him," Rosa swatted her husband's arm offscreen. "You spoil him and he'll turn into one of those arrogant players!"
Adriano burst out laughing. "Don't worry, mãe. I'll stay grounded. Literally and figuratively."
They chatted for another ten minutes, Rosa updating him on neighbors who kept bringing newspaper clippings about her "superstar son," and Julio already planning what to wear when flying first class in Adriano's new jet.
After promising to fly them in when he recieved it, Adriano ended the call with a wide smile, feeling a rare sense of contentment settle in his chest. Family always had a way of keeping his feet on the ground, even when he was flying at the top of the world.
Moments later, he flopped back onto the couch and pulled up another contact. He hit the video call button.
Kate answered a few rings later, her voice slightly breathless. "Hey, babe!"
The screen tilted as she moved around her bedroom, her blonde hair tied loosely as she stood in front of a mirror. Adriano raised his brows with a grin.
"You're getting ready to go somewhere?" he asked.
"Yup. Dinner thing with the studio. Nothing major," Kate replied, pulling a blouse over her head before realizing the video was still on. She smirked. "Didn't realize you called for watching me get dressed."
Adriano gave a low whistle and shook his head playfully. "Damn. You already lost all that weight from vacation? Girl, you so fine—even your skin's shinier than gold."
Kate burst into laughter, doing a quick spin in the mirror and striking a mock-model pose. "You think I look hotter now?"
"Hotter?" Adriano chuckled, hand over his heart. "I wanna get on my jet right now and come kidnap you back to Manchester."
She giggled and blew him a kiss. "You don't even need to, babe. If the richest, most handsome footballer shows up at my door? I'd run away with him myself."
They both cracked up laughing, the easy comfort between them shining through even across a screen. Adriano leaned in, propping the phone up again as Kate held up two different dresses.
"Okay. Help me out. Which one do I wear—the red one or the white-and-gold one?"
Adriano squinted. "Hmm. Honestly? Your current outfit's kinda unbeatable."
Kate rolled her eyes. "I'm not going out in my underwear, babe."
"Fine, fine." He pointed at the screen. "White and gold. That one."
Kate slipped it on and turned slowly. "Solid choice. I'll give it a ten out of ten."
Adriano smiled as he watched her fix her hair. "You always look amazing, you know that?"
Kate tilted her head. "You're getting sweet again."
He leaned back, arms behind his head. "Can't help it. I miss you."
She paused for a beat, her expression softening. "I miss you too. But the good news? Promotions are done. I should be able to fly back to Manchester in a week or two. I've cleared most of my schedule."
Adriano's eyes lit up. "You serious?"
Kate nodded. "Completely. Just gotta wrap up this dinner and a couple of interviews."
Adriano gave a wide grin. "Then I'll be counting the days."
Her smile matched his. "Promise not to let that ridiculous paycheck change you before I get back."
He laughed. "I promise. Still the same guy. Just with a jet now."
Kate blew him one more kiss. "Okay, I gotta run. But we'll talk later?"
"Always."
The call ended, and Adriano set the phone down, stretching with a satisfied sigh. The house was quiet again, but it didn't feel empty. Not with his parents' voices still echoing in his mind and Kate's laughter still fresh in his ears.
He glanced toward the window, the Manchester skyline bathed in orange hues as the sun dipped low. The league opener was right around the corner. But for now, just for tonight, Adriano let himself enjoy the stillness.
The calm before the storm.