Leon and Byon walked side-by-side, their arms slung over each other's shoulders, two exhausted warriors who had just fought each other to a standstill.
Byon's bombshell of a revelation was a quiet, personal grenade that had just gone off in the middle of Leon's triumphant, chaotic world.
"He just wanted to know if the champions of Europe might be interested in a trade. Their 'unhappy' playmaker for a certain German-born left-back..."
Leon's brain was still trying to process the sheer, audacious, beautiful insanity of it all. Flavio Briatore, their new, flamboyant president, had seen the chessboard and decided to flip it over and suggest a game of poker instead.
"He's joking, right?" Leon finally managed to say, his voice a low, disbelieving whisper.
"Briatore. He has to be joking."
Byon just shrugged, a tired, wry grin on his face.
