Oscar broke his tablet. Cracked right down the middle, a casualty of his very enthusiastic goodbye fist bump.

“I barely touched it!” Oscar had cried, holding up the shattered screen like it had betrayed him. “It was one love tap! My love taps are gentle!”

Lando, not even sorry, had shrugged. “Maybe your love is just destructive, mate.”

Now, three minutes before boarding, Charles was digging into his backpack with the desperation of a man trying to avoid hearing Oscar complain for nine hours straight.

Carlos, at the coffee stand, was blissfully unaware that disaster was brewing. He had his AirPods in, sipping from the lid of one of the cups, humming to a Spanish ballad as he carefully balanced three drinks in one tray.

“There!” Charles yanked out a sleek black iPad and thrust it into Oscar’s hands like it was Excalibur. “Take this. It’s Carlos’s. He has all the Marvel movies. And those ridiculous telenovelas with the dramatic slaps.”