Manchester City vs Southampton,
November 2015
The Etihad had its familiar electric hum, a current that seemed to build the moment Adriano stepped out of the tunnel. The cold Manchester air bit at the skin, but the noise of nearly fifty thousand fans warmed the players as they jogged into their positions. Southampton were no easy pushovers; they'd been resilient this season, disciplined in their shape, eager to frustrate sides with their compact lines. Pellegrini had reminded the squad about it in the dressing room, his calm Chilean voice carrying a sharp warning: patience, movement, precision.
Adriano, wearing the captain's armband in Kompany's absence last week, had handed it back to the Belgian tonight. Still, there was no mistaking the 19-year-old's stature. His Ballon d'Or trophy had silenced even the last of the skeptics. To the fans he wasn't just their boy wonder anymore — he was The King. Every touch he took drew that faint intake of breath from the stands, like they expected magic every time his boot met leather.
The whistle blew and the game began at its frantic Premier League pace. Southampton pressed aggressively early, forcing Hart to punt long once or twice. Kompany barked orders, pulling Hummels and Robertson into a tighter line, while Kimmich looked nervously over his shoulder every time Dusan Tadic drifted his way.
Adriano dropped deep to receive his first touches, spreading the play left toward Hazard. The Belgian darted forward, shimmying past a defender before slipping a ball inside toward Kane, but Southampton's Jose Fonte read it, clearing firmly into touch.
De Bruyne clapped his hands. "Keep it moving, keep it moving!"
Adriano grinned faintly at him. "Relax, Kev. They won't keep up."
And he was right. By the tenth minute, City's rhythm was finding its groove. Short passes across the midfield triangle — Mac Allister tucking in tightly, De Bruyne stretching wide, Adriano floating just behind Kane. It was like watching gears slide into place, each turn pulling Southampton further into their web.
The first chance came in the 13th minute. Salah, hugging the right touchline, darted inside onto his left. Adriano timed a diagonal run perfectly, Salah threading a sharp ball through. Adriano didn't hesitate — one touch to control, then a curling strike from just outside the box. It whistled inches over the bar, brushing the netting on its way down. The Etihad groaned, then applauded the intent.
Kate, from her private box, had her hand pressed to her chest. "That looked in," she muttered, shaking her head with a smile.
Adriano jogged back, laughing at De Bruyne who teased, "Balloon d'Or and you still can't hit the target, eh?"
"Don't worry, I'll save mine for later," Adriano shot back, winking.
Southampton, though, weren't just here to watch. In the 18th minute, Graziano Pellè held the ball up brilliantly against Kompany, laying it off for Steven Davis, who surged forward and struck low toward Hart's near post. Hart reacted sharply, diving to palm it wide. The away fans in the corner roared their approval, while Kompany clapped Hart's back. "Good save, Joe. Stay sharp."
The scare snapped City back into urgency. Robertson began bombing forward more, overlapping Hazard to force Southampton's right side back. De Bruyne demanded quicker switches, shouting constantly for the ball. In the 26th minute, that urgency paid off.
It started with Mac Allister, nicking the ball in midfield with a perfectly timed tackle. The Argentine flicked it instantly to De Bruyne, who spotted Adriano already spinning away from his marker. Adriano collected it in stride, glancing once at Kane but choosing not to pass. Instead, he shifted it onto his right foot, thirty yards from goal, and let fly.
The ball dipped wickedly. Fraser Forster dove, arms outstretched, but he was half a second late. The net bulged in the top corner. The stadium erupted.
Adriano didn't sprint or slide; he just lifted his arms calmly, soaking in the roar as teammates swarmed him. Kane was the first to arrive, thumping his chest. "You're ridiculous, mate. Ridiculous!"
Salah grabbed his shoulders, shouting over the noise, "How do you even do that?!"
Adriano only laughed, pointing to Kate in the stands, who was on her feet, scarf twirling above her head. He kissed his wrist, a gesture in her direction, before letting Kompany drag him back toward the halfway line. 1–0.
Southampton, to their credit, didn't fold. Ronald Koeman's side tried to respond quickly, pushing higher. Tadic cut inside and curled a cross toward Pellè, who outmuscled Hummels and headed powerfully goalward. Again Hart was sharp, punching it clear, then screaming at his defense: "Mark up! Stay with your men!"
The match became more open as the minutes ticked on. Hazard began finding pockets, his darting dribbles pulling two defenders at once. Salah too, cutting inside from the right, threatened with his pace. Kane was busy, wrestling with Fonte and van Dijk every time a cross came near.
In the 37th minute, Salah nearly doubled the lead. Adriano spotted his diagonal run, sliding an inch-perfect through ball past three red-and-white shirts. Salah surged into the box, toe-poking past Forster — but the ball clattered the outside of the post and rolled out. He dropped to his knees in frustration, hands on his head.
Adriano jogged up, pulling him back up with a grin. "Next one's in. Trust me."
"Should've buried it," Salah muttered.
"Doesn't matter," Adriano said firmly. "You'll score. Keep going."
Southampton nearly punished City immediately after. On the counter, Sadio Mané burst free down the right. His pace carried him past Robertson, whipping in a low cross. Pellè slid for it at the near post, only to see Kompany's big frame block the attempt. The Belgian captain roared at his teammates again, fist pumping. "Wake up! Don't give them a sniff!"
The crowd, sensing tension, grew louder, urging their side forward again.
Adriano obliged. In the 42nd minute, he dropped deeper, exchanging quick passes with De Bruyne before lofting a gorgeous ball over the top. Kane anticipated it perfectly, muscling past van Dijk and striking on the half-volley. It skidded just wide, shaving the post. Kane slapped his thigh in frustration, but Adriano jogged over and ruffled his hair. "Close, brother. Keep at it."
The half wound down with City still pressing, Hazard twisting past two defenders before being hauled down on the edge of the box. The free kick was Adriano's — the fans already standing, phones raised. His strike curled beautifully over the wall, but Forster guessed right this time, diving acrobatically to push it away. The rebound fell to Hummels, who lashed at it but saw it blocked desperately by Fonte.
The whistle finally blew. 1–0 at halftime, Adriano's thunderbolt separating the sides. As the players walked off, Adriano and De Bruyne were already talking animatedly, hands gesturing about movement patterns. Pellegrini stood waiting by the tunnel entrance, nodding approvingly but calm as ever.
Kate blew a kiss from the stands. Adriano caught it with a little smirk before disappearing into the tunnel.
The Etihad buzzed in anticipation. Everyone knew the second half was about to bring more goals.
*****
The players re-emerged from the tunnel with the winter chill sharper now, visible puffs of breath rising as they jogged back onto the pitch. The Etihad crowd was still buzzing from Adriano's first-half strike, scarves waving, voices carrying the song of their invincible heroes. Kompany was barking already, pointing at Hummels and Robertson, gesturing for the back line to tighten up from the first whistle. Pellegrini had been calm in the dressing room, reminding the players not to lose focus: "Southampton are dangerous if you let them run. Stay compact, move the ball quickly, and the chances will come. Do not give them life."
Adriano slapped Kane on the back as they lined up for kickoff again. "Your turn now, brother. I fed you two already, this one's going in."
Kane grinned, stretching his shoulders. "Don't worry, I've been waiting all half."
The whistle blew and immediately Southampton pressed hard, trying to force a mistake. Their midfield pair of Davis and Wanyama lunged into tackles, snapping at De Bruyne and Silva every time the ball came near. For a couple of minutes, City were penned back, Hart having to kick long under pressure, the away fans sensing a spark.
In the 50th minute, that spark ignited. Mane picked up a loose ball on the right, cut sharply inside Robertson, and swung in a dangerous cross. Kompany leapt to head clear, but his clearance dropped awkwardly at the edge of the box. Pelle seized on it, lashing a low drive toward goal. Hart dived but could only parry, and it fell straight into the path of Shane Long. Long's effort was bundled home despite Hummels sliding desperately.
The Southampton fans exploded in the corner, players piling onto Long. 1–1.
Hart slammed the turf in frustration, shouting angrily. "We've got to be quicker clearing second balls!" Kompany immediately gathered the defenders, voice booming over the noise. "Heads up! One goal doesn't matter. Stay focused!"
Adriano clenched his fists, staring up at the scoreboard, then jogged to the ball for the restart. Kane touched his arm. "We take it back now. Straight away."
Adriano nodded sharply. "No waiting. We go."
And City did go. The response was instant. They snapped passes across midfield, Silva and De Bruyne exchanging one-touch passes that pulled Southampton's shape out of joint. Adriano drifted left, dragging Wanyama with him, then suddenly accelerated, slipping inside past him. Silva spotted it, firing the ball into Adriano's feet.
Adriano didn't hold onto it. With one touch, he flicked it through the tiniest channel between Fonte and van Dijk — perfectly into Kane's stride. Kane didn't even need a second thought. He struck it first time, low and hard across Forster, the ball fizzing into the far corner.
The Etihad erupted, a wall of noise hitting like thunder. Kane slid on his knees toward the corner flag, fists pumping, teammates swarming around him. Adriano was the last to arrive, wrapping an arm around Kane's shoulders and laughing into his ear. "I told you. I told you!"
Kane grinned back, breathless. "That was your goal. I just finished it."
"No," Adriano replied firmly. "Striker's instinct. That's why you're here."
2–1, City back in front in the 57th minute.
Southampton looked rattled now, their brief hope crushed almost as soon as it had risen. The home fans seized the moment, volume surging, chanting Adriano's name, singing for Kane, the stadium transformed into a cauldron of defiance and celebration.
City smelt blood. Salah in particular was relentless down the right, demanding the ball again and again, tormenting Ryan Bertrand with his pace. Adriano fed him repeatedly, each time urging him to drive inside. "Go at him, Mo! Don't stop!"
In the 67th minute, Salah finally had his moment. Adriano dropped deep, receiving a pass from De Bruyne, then pinged a diagonal ball over the top. Salah controlled it perfectly on his chest, slipped inside Bertrand's desperate lunge, and burst into the box. He shaped to shoot, pulled it onto his left foot, and curled low past Forster into the far corner.
The stadium exploded again, Salah leaping into the air, pounding his chest before racing to Adriano, who had both arms raised in triumph. "I told you it would come!" Adriano shouted, grabbing Salah's head with both hands.
Salah laughed breathlessly. "You told me! You bloody told me!"
3–1, City in control, the Etihad singing louder than ever.
Southampton tried to claw back some momentum, but they looked beaten. Their passes became slower, their runs less sharp. City pressed them high, winning the ball back in dangerous areas. De Bruyne nearly made it four in the 72nd minute with a thunderous strike that skimmed the bar, leaving Forster rooted.
But football rarely ends without a twist. In the 81st minute, Southampton nicked one back. A scrappy move down the right saw Mane slip past Robertson again. His low cross ricocheted off Hummels and fell kindly for Pelle. This time, the Italian made no mistake, smashing it past Hart at close range.
The away fans roared, and suddenly the Etihad grew tense. 3–2, with less than ten minutes to go. Pellegrini shook his head calmly from the sideline but gestured for his players to stay composed. Kompany clapped his hands furiously, screaming over the noise. "Don't panic! We stay strong!"
Adriano immediately jogged back, gathering his teammates in a small circle before kickoff. "Listen," he said firmly, eyes darting between them. "We don't sit back. We control. Pass, move, kill their rhythm. One more goal ends it. Trust me."
The players nodded, fired up by their young leader's conviction.
From the restart, City played exactly as he demanded. Silva and De Bruyne recycled possession smartly, Robertson surged forward with overlapping runs, and Adriano dictated the tempo. He slowed it when needed, quickened it when Southampton opened up.
In the 86th minute, Adriano nearly sealed it himself. A foul on Hazard gave City a free kick thirty yards out. The crowd buzzed, sensing the possibility. Adriano stepped up, his posture calm, his eyes fixed on the top corner. His strike curled beautifully over the wall, dipping late, but Forster somehow got fingertips to it, pushing it onto the bar. The rebound bounced awkwardly before being hacked clear by Fonte.
Adriano smacked his hands together in frustration but turned to the crowd with a gesture, urging them louder. The Etihad roared back, pushing their side over the line.
The final minutes ticked by with Southampton throwing long balls forward. Kompany and Hummels rose for everything, Hart commanding his box with clenched fists and fierce shouts. When the fourth official's board showed three added minutes, groans and nerves rippled across the stands.
But City never wavered. Adriano, still running tirelessly, carried the ball deep into Southampton's half in stoppage time, shielding it near the corner flag. Kane joined him, the two of them drawing fouls and burning precious seconds.
When the whistle finally blew, the stadium erupted in relief and triumph. 3–1, another victory, another step in their perfect season. Players embraced, Kane raising both arms to the crowd, Salah high-fiving fans near the touchline.
Adriano lifted his arms toward Kate in the VIP box, who was clapping furiously, her scarf around her shoulders. He blew her a kiss before joining the group huddle in the center circle, Kompany holding them all together in celebration.
City's invincibles had done it again.
*****
The night after the Southampton match, the City squad had been given a rare evening free. The mood in the dressing room post-match had been electric, laughter echoing as Kane replayed his goal with exaggerated commentary, and Salah teased him about nearly missing it. Adriano had been at the center of it all, grinning but also quietly worn down — the weight of constant performances, interviews, expectations. When he finally stepped out of the stadium, Kate was waiting, wrapped in a long coat and scarf, her smile warm despite the cold.
"Captain Fantastic," she teased, slipping her arm into his. "Another goal, another assist, another day of making everyone else look ordinary."
Adriano chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss her temple. "And another night of everyone asking for pictures when we're supposed to go somewhere quiet."
She tilted her head knowingly. "I already booked us something private. Just us. You need to switch off for one night."
He gave her a grateful look. "You always know."
Instead of heading home, she drove them to a private dining room in a small Italian restaurant near Deansgate, one Kate had quietly arranged with the owner. When they walked in, the staff greeted them discreetly, no photos, no noise, just a warm table lit by candles. Adriano immediately relaxed, shoulders dropping as he sat across from her.
They talked about everything except football at first — Kate's new charity project, a series she'd been filming, her irritation with tabloids inventing stories. Adriano just listened, smiling, resting his chin on his hand.
"You're not saying much tonight," she noticed eventually, nudging him with her foot under the table.
"I like listening to you," he replied simply. "I spend all week talking — to Pelle, to teammates, to media. This is better."
Kate softened, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "I don't know how you do it, babe. Nineteen, playing like you're thirty, carrying a team, carrying a country sometimes. And then the world still expects you to be… I don't know, flawless."
Adriano shrugged, though his eyes betrayed the pressure. "I chose this. Or maybe football chose me. Either way, I can't complain when I'm living the dream." He smirked lightly. "Besides, you make the rest of it tolerable."
She grinned, lifting her glass. "To tolerating."
They clinked glasses, laughter easing the weight that hung in his chest.
The next morning, Adriano was back at training, jogging onto the pitch where Pellegrini stood with his hands behind his back, surveying everything with that calm professor's aura. Kompany was already barking orders during warmups, Hummels joking with Kimmich about his accent, and De Bruyne scowling at how cold the Manchester wind felt.
Adriano jogged over, ball at his feet, and immediately the banter began.
"Finally!" De Bruyne shouted. "We thought our golden boy was still in bed being fed grapes by Kate."
The players laughed, and Adriano smirked, flicking the ball at De Bruyne's shins. "You're just jealous I can get grapes delivered and you're stuck eating baked beans."
Even Silva laughed at that one, though he quickly clapped Adriano on the back and whispered, "Ignore them. They'll say anything to get you wound up."
During drills, Pellegrini called Adriano over. "You look sharper today. Good recovery."
Adriano nodded. "I needed a quiet night. Kate made sure of it."
Pellegrini gave a faint smile. "Good. Balance is important. You carry a lot on your shoulders, but you mustn't burn out. This team needs you in May, not just November."
Adriano's expression hardened with focus. "I'll be ready."
Pellegrini studied him for a moment. "I know you will. But remember — you don't have to do everything alone. Kompany leads from the back, Silva and De Bruyne create in the middle. Trust them. Save your fire for when it truly matters."
Adriano breathed deeply, nodding. "I'll remember."
As Pellegrini walked off, Kane jogged over, leaning against Adriano. "What did the old man say? That you're the chosen one again?"
"Something like that," Adriano replied with a grin. "Don't worry, I still leave the tap-ins for you."
Kane shoved him, laughing. "Oi, that finish was class and you know it."
Salah joined them, chiming in mischievously. "I don't know, Harry. Even my gran could've finished that pass from Adriano."
The group dissolved into laughter, Kane holding up both hands in mock offense. "Right, next time I'm not passing to either of you!"
Later that afternoon, after training had finished, Adriano lingered on the pitch, working on free kicks. Ball after ball thudded against the net, his technique crisp, his concentration absolute. From the sideline, Kompany watched with quiet approval before strolling over.
"You never stop, do you?"
Adriano wiped his brow. "There's always something to improve."
Kompany nodded. "True. But don't forget to breathe. You've already given us enough to win. Sometimes the leader's job isn't to do more — it's to make others do more."
Adriano glanced at him. "Like you?"
Kompany smiled faintly. "Exactly. I'll never score thirty goals. My job is making sure you can. You trust me, I trust you. That's how we win."
Adriano let that sink in, then offered a small smile. "Deal."
That night, Kate curled up beside Adriano on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched some mindless comedy show. She could feel the tension still in his muscles, the way his mind was elsewhere.
"Still thinking about training?" she asked softly.
"Always," he admitted. "Even when I'm not."
She turned his face toward hers. "Then let me remind you — you're not just the footballer. You're mine too. And right now, you're off duty."
Her lips brushed his, and slowly, Adriano let the game fade from his thoughts.
*****
Adriano's Stats 2015-16 Season
Premier League
Match: 14
Goals: 22
Assists: 9
Champions League
Match:3
Goal: 6
Assist: 2
Community Shield
Match: 1
Goals : 2
Assists: 2
Capital One Cup
Match: 1
Goal: 3
Assists: 0
Euro Qualifiers
Match: 4
Goals: 6
Assist: 2