In the Dressing Room

As the referee blew the whistle to signal halftime, the England players trudged off the pitch. Their expressions ranged from frustration to exhaustion, sweat dripping from their brows as they headed into the dressing room. While the score remained 0-0, the tension in the air was palpable. Spain had dominated possession for much of the first half, and England's lack of cohesion was evident.

Inside the dressing room, Elian was already sitting on a bench, a towel draped around his neck. His head was down, his thoughts seemingly miles away. The sound of cleats hitting the tiled floor grew louder as his teammates entered. The atmosphere shifted immediately upon seeing him.

Edward, the head coach, walked in behind the players, his expression dark. He strode to the center of the room, standing still for a moment as the players settled into their seats. His sharp gaze locked onto Elian, who finally looked up, sensing the weight of everyone's eyes on him.