doppio espresso in one hand and his phone cemented to his ear by the other, rafael’s the picture of your everyday millennial businessman. as soon as you drag your gaze away from his coffee, well-tailored suit and cellphone, the fresh almost fractured orbital bone and twin black eyes he’s sporting shatter that fever dream immediately. he’s been yelling down the line in a scattered combination of angry italian and furious english for almost 20 minutes now ––– blocking the exit to the coffee shop the entire time. “ if this loss brings down my fucking ranking, i’m gonna pop off. mike bisping’s a hack. i’ll fuckin’ die if he’s still sitting on champion this year, ” dramatic, yes ––– it’s been a one-way conversation for 5 minutes at least, his trainer merely ‘listening’ on the other end.