The flight ran the way European away flights always did — some players asleep within ten minutes of takeoff, some with headphones in, a card game going a few rows back that Højlund kept losing loudly enough for half the plane to hear about it.
Demien's phone had gone onto airplane mode with everyone else's, tucked into the seat pocket in front of him rather than checked every few minutes.
Højlund talked more than usual, leaning across the aisle to point out something to Maguire about Copenhagen's old town, clearly happier than his usual matchday quiet. This was still half home for him, whatever shirt he wore onto the pitch tomorrow.
Eriksen got a similar kind of attention from the cabin crew and a couple of Danish-speaking staff traveling with United's operations team, a warmth in it that had nothing to do with football.
Demien read for a while, dozed for a while, and didn't think about Barcelona once during the whole flight.
