Usman Nurmagomedov

His eyes felt heavy as he forced himself out of bed, his body aching with every movement. He barely managed to pull on a gray tracksuit and a thick parka before stepping out of his hotel room. Khabib had only let him sleep for two hours before they had to catch their flight back to Dagestan. He felt exhausted, sore—his fight against Paul Hughes had been brutal, but he had managed to retain his Bellator title. Leaving the luxury hotel in Dubai, Usman and his team climbed into a transfer to the airport. The city was still alive, even at 2 AM—the sky was dark, but the dazzling lights of Dubai’s opulent streets made it impossible to forget where he was. When they arrived at the airport, he let his cousin Khabib and Islam handle the paperwork and security checks. Too drained to care, he walked with heavy steps toward the departure gate, his body begging for rest. He slumped onto a bench near the massive glass windows of the luxurious airport, watching the runways in silence as he waited for the boarding gates to open.