Night - 9 PM

It was night 9 pm she was seated on her study table and was writing her books next chapter when her phone buzzed an unknown number lighting up the cracked screen.

She almost ignored it-until the message loaded.

"Hello, this is from the SRH digital content team. We've come across your cricket blogs and would like you to write a feature piece on Abhishek Sharma for our online platform. This will be a paid assignment."

For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Abhishek Sharma. The name she had written a hundred times in secret, woven into fiction and feelings no one knew about. Her fingers trembled as she reread the message, disbelief melting into quiet awe.

This time, she wasn't writing as a fan, or a girl hiding behind a pen name-she was being trusted as a writer. And for the first time, her words about him would not just be read... they would be valued.

After a few shaky breaths, she finally replied:

Sayali (typing):

"Hello, thank you so much for reaching out. I'm truly glad and honored to be considered for this assignment. Writing about Indian cricket has always been close to my heart, and getting the opportunity to work on a feature about Abhishek Sharma means a lot to me. I would like to mention that I prefer my real name to remain undisclosed, and the piece can be published under my pen name, Saanvi. I'd be grateful to take up this assignment and look forward to your guidelines and details. Thank you once again for trusting my work."

After replying, she immediately called Meher.

Sayali: "Meher, guess what?! SRH ne mujhe Abhishek Sharma pe write karne ko bola hai!"
("Meher, guess what?!SRH has asked me to write on Abhishek Sharma!")

Meher: "Kyaaaa?! Pagal h amke! Arey Sayali, seriously?! Ye kaise possible hua? Tu itni talented hai, but phir bhi... SRH?! Wah re! Main toh abhi bhi shock me hoon sunke!"
("What?! Are you crazy! Sayali, seriously?! How is this even possible? You're so talented, and yet... BCCI?! Wow! I'm still in shock hearing this!")

Sayali: "Haan na! Main khud believe nahi kar pa rahi hoon. Bas phone dekhte hi haath kaise kaise tharthartha gaye... aur mujhe laga ki agar galat message hai toh? Par phir dubara padha... aur haan, ye sach tha!"
("I know, right! I can't even believe it myself. As soon as I saw the phone, my hands were shaking... and I thought, what if it's the wrong message? But then I read it again... and yes, it was true!")

Meher: "Arey, bas abhi toh pura celebration chahiye! Tere liye cake, snacks, aur chhota sa dance session bhi karte hai. Imagine kar, tu likh rahi hai Abhishek Sharma ke baare me... aur sab online padh rahe hain! Log appreciate karenge, tujhse inspire honge!"
("Oh, we need a full celebration right now! Cake, snacks, and even a little dance session for you. Imagine, you're writing about Abhishek Sharma... and everyone is reading it online! People will appreciate it and get inspired by you!")

Sayali: "Exactly! Aur main soch rahi hoon... har line carefully likhni hai, har paragraph me passion dikhna chahiye... na sirf cricket ke liye, balki uske personality aur journey ke liye bhi. Imagine kar... ye article log padh ke smile karenge, ya fir woh moment yaad karenge jab main fan hoon aur writer bhi."
("Exactly! And I'm thinking... I need to write every line carefully, every paragraph should show passion... not just for cricket, but for his personality and journey too. Imagine... people will read this article and smile, or remember that moment when I'm both a fan and a writer.")

Meher: "Haan, aur tu apna pen name use karegi na? Tera real name toh private hi rahega... but online sab log 'Saanvi' ke articles padhke tujhse connect karenge. Wah, feeling hi alag hai!"
("Yes, and you'll use your pen name, right? Your real name will stay private... but online, everyone will read the articles under 'Riya Sen' and connect with you. Wow, it feels so different!")

Sayali: "Haan, exactly! Pen name bhi decide kar liya... aur abhi toh excitement ka level hi high hai. Bas soch rahi hoon... kaise start karu, kya angle lunu... sab perfect hona chahiye. Abhi toh har cheez dimaag me chal rahi hai, aur bas likhna shuru karne ka wait ho raha hai!"
("Yes, exactly! I've even decided my pen name... and right now my excitement level is so high. I'm just thinking... how should I start, what angle should I take... everything needs to be perfect. Right now everything is running in my mind, and I'm just waiting to start writing!")

Meher: "Bas, tu tension mat le! Tu talented hai... aur main hamesha yahi bolti hoon, tu jo bhi karegi, best hoga. Imagine kar, first time BCCI ke platform pe tera article... aur sab log padh ke khush honge. Aur soch, Abhishek Sharma aur uska parivar bhi padh raha hoga! Wah, feeling hi alag hai na?"

("Just don't stress! You're talented... and I always say this, whatever you do will be the best. Imagine, for the first time your article is on BCCI's platform... and everyone will read it and be happy. And think, Abhishek Sharma and his family will also be reading it! Wow, it feels so different, doesn't it?")
----------------

Next Day

Sayali woke up with a strange kind of excitement bubbling inside her chest.

Not the "holiday laziness" type.
Not the "extra sleep" type.

This was different.

Today was SRH vs Gujarat Titans.

Match day.

Which meant...
he would be playing.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, then suddenly grabbed her phone and checked the time.

Still morning.

"Ughhh... why is time moving so slow today?" she groaned dramatically.

From the kitchen came the usual sounds - cooker whistles, utensils clanking, her mother getting ready for work.

Unlike yesterday's emotional reunion, today the house felt normal again. Routine. Calm.

Revati quickly packed her tiffin and called out -

Revati: Sayali, dabba time pe kha haan! Ani Arush la pan bol thoda study karayla!
(Sayali, eat your lunch on time! And tell Arush to study a little too!)

Sayali: Hoo aaiii!
(Yes, Mom!)

Arush (from hall): Aaiii, aaj holiday aahe yaar!
(Mom, it's a holiday today yaar!)

Revati: Holiday mhanje brain la pan holiday nahi milat, samjla ka!
(Holiday doesn't mean your brain gets a holiday too, okay!)

Sayali laughed under her breath.

After a few minutes, Revati left for work, locking the door behind her.

And just like that...

Freedom.

The house instantly turned into chaos mode.

Arush stretched on the sofa like a starfish and grabbed the TV remote.

Sayali walked out with her toothbrush still in her mouth.

Sayali: Oyeee! Remote de na ikde!
(Oye! Give me the remote here!)

Arush: Kaaa ga?
(Why?)

Sayali: Sports channel lavaycha aahe.
(I want to put on the sports channel.)

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Arush: Ahaaa... match sathi na?
(Ahaaa... for the match, right?)

She tried acting casual.

Sayali: Tar kaay? Cricket aahe. Sagale baghtat.
(So what? It's cricket. Everyone watches.)

Arush (smirking): Haan haan... "cricket." Ki koni special player?
(Yeah yeah... "cricket." Or some special player?)

She immediately threw a cushion at him.

Sayali: Shut up re makad! Jasta bolu nako!
(Shut up monkey! Don't talk too much!)

He started laughing loudly.

Arush: Taai cha hero aaj batting la yenarrr!
(Big sis's hero is coming to bat todayyy!)

Sayali (panicking): Aree chup bas! Aai aikli tar vaat lagel majhi!
(Hey shut up! If Mom hears, I'm dead!)

Arush: Relax vedya, aai kaamala geliye!
(Relax silly, Mom has gone to work!)

They both burst out laughing.

Since their mom wasn't home, Sayali didn't have to pretend anymore.

She openly checked match updates, watched practice reels, even zoomed into one slow-motion clip like a total fangirl.

Arush caught her once and gasped dramatically -

Arush: Taaiii... tu full gone case aahe! Tu photo gheteys ka tyacha?
(Sis... you're totally gone! Are you taking his photo or what?)

Sayali: Nigh itun! Nahi tar kharach maar khashil!
(Get out of here or you'll actually get hit)
----------------

Evening

By evening, the sky slowly melted into shades of soft orange and pink.
The golden sunlight slipped through the window curtains, painting Sayali's room in a warm glow.

But her focus wasn't on the sky.

Today was match day.

And not just any match.

SRH vs Gujarat Titans.

Which meant only one thing -
he was going to play.

Since afternoon itself, she had been weirdly restless. Walking around the house. Checking time every five minutes. Refreshing scores even before the match started.

Finally, half an hour before the toss, she prepared seriously... like it was some kind of important mission.

Her mini match corner was ready on the bed -

Laptop ✔️
Chips ✔️
Water bottle ✔️
Phone ✔️
Door half-closed so no one disturbs ✔️

She sat cross-legged, adjusting the pillow behind her back like she was settling in for a movie night.

The moment the stream started-

Commentary sounds filled the room.

Crowd cheering.
Stadium lights glowing.
Players warming up.
Toss happening.

Her heartbeat automatically sped up.

A soft smile appeared on her lips.

"Please... today he should bat early..." she whispered to herself, almost like a prayer.

She didn't even realize she was clutching the chips packet nervously.

Just then-

Click.

The main door opened.

"Aai aali..." Arush's voice echoed from the hall.

Sayali jumped slightly like she'd been caught doing something illegal.

"Arre baba-"

She quickly straightened her posture, minimized one practice reel tab, and pretended to sit normally like a "casual cricket fan."

Laptop screen → scorecard
Face → calm
Heart → dhak dhak dhak

Revati entered the house, looking tired after a long day at work. She placed her purse on the table, loosened her dupatta, and stretched her shoulders.

Then, as usual, she walked past the rooms... checking on her kids.

She paused near Sayali's door.

And gently peeked inside..

Revati stopped at the door and peeked inside.
The glow of the laptop reflected on Sayali's face while loud commentary filled the room.

Revati: Match baghteys ka?
(Watching the match?)

Sayali (casually): Haan aai... bas timepass re.
(Yeah mom... just timepass.)

If only her mother knew this was definitely not timepass.

Revati stepped a little closer to her bed.

Revati: Arre ho, zara phone de na. Maza recharge sampala. Ek urgent call karaycha aahe.
(Hey, give me your phone. My recharge is over. I need to make an urgent call.)

Without even looking away from the screen, Sayali stretched her hand back.

Sayali: Ho haan ghe na. Balcony madhye ja... tithe network jasta changla yeto.
(Yeah yeah take it. Go to the balcony... the network is better there.)

Revati: Ho, Tu match bagh.
(Okay. You watch your match.)

She walked out quietly.

Meanwhile, on the laptop screen -

The camera zoomed in.

He adjusted his gloves.
Tapped the bat.
Took guard.

Sayali immediately sat straight, eyes shining.

She leaned closer and muttered under her breath -

Sayali (muttering to herself): Aaj mast perform kar ha... tension nako gheu... you got this.
(Play really well today... don't take tension... you got this.)

A small smile crept onto her face.

Completely unaware...

Her mother was just a few steps away in the balcony.

Still not knowing
about her daughter's tiny, secret, filmy crush.

And honestly?

Sayali liked it exactly that way.

Revati entered quietly and handed her phone back.

Revati: He ghe, tuza phone.
(Here, take your phone.)

Sayali looked up.

Sayali: Itkya lavkar zhala bolna?
(Finished talking so soon?)

Revati (sighing): Arre tine call uchalach nahi. Don-teen vela try kela mi.
(She didn't even pick up the call. I tried two-three times.)

Sayali: Accha accha... theek aahe. Nantar karshil parat.
(Oh okay... it's fine. You can call later.)

Revati: Ho. Tu bagh tuza match. Mi baher aahe.
(Yeah. You watch your match. I'll be outside.)

She gently patted Sayali's head and walked out of the room.

The door remained half open again.

____________________________________

The match had officially begun.

Sunrisers Hyderabad were batting first.

Sayali straightened up on her bed the moment the commentators announced the opening pair.

"And here come the openers... Abhishek Sharma and Travis Head walking out to the crease."

Her heart skipped.

"There he is..." she whispered automatically.

On the screen, both of them walked confidently toward the pitch - helmets on, bats in hand, stadium lights shining down like a spotlight.

The crowd roared.

Sayali unknowingly sat cross-legged and tightly crossed her fingers.

Like she was praying before an exam result.

"Bas... out nako hou de... please changla khel..."
(Just... don't get out... please play well...)

Strike was with Abhishek.

First ball.

Tap.

Defended.

Her shoulders relaxed a little.

Every ball after that felt like her heartbeat.

Dot ball → "It's okay..."
Single → small smile
Boundary → quiet fist pump

She reacted to everything like it personally affected her life.

After a few overs...

Scoreboard showed -

Abhishek - 18 (16)

"Set zala aahe... ata mast khelel..." she muttered hopefully.
(He's set now... he'll play well...)

Next ball.

He stepped out of the crease.

Bat swung high.

Trying to clear the boundary.

For a second, time slowed.

Sayali half stood up from the bed.

"Ja ja ja-"

But-

The ball went higher... not longer.

A fielder settled under it.

Catch.

Out.

The stadium noise dipped.

Commentary turned dull.

"And he's gone..."

Sayali froze.

Her smile disappeared instantly.

"Oh no..." she whispered softly.

On the screen, Abhishek stood still for a moment, staring at the pitch.

Frustration written all over his face.

He removed his helmet slowly.

That disappointed expression...

That tiny shake of his head...

It hit her harder than it should have.

She sank back on the bed.

"Yaar..."

Her chest felt weirdly heavy.

As if she had gotten out.

"Thoda aur rukta na..."
(He could've stayed a little longer...)

She didn't even realize when her lips formed a small pout.

For a silly second, she wished-

She was there.

Just to say,
"It's okay... next time."
----------------

Meanwhile...

Back at the stadium.

Abhishek walked toward the dressing room, bat hanging loosely in his hand.

Each step felt heavier.

He knew he could've played better.

Should've stayed longer.

Should've finished the over.

Disappointment churned inside him.

As he climbed the stairs, his eyes instinctively searched the stands.

And then he spotted her.

His mom.

Sitting there.

Watching only him.

She had specially come to see his match.

He gave her a small, forced smile.

The kind that said I'm okay...

But his eyes said everything else.

He looked away quickly.

Frustrated at himself.

Not because he got out.

But because he wanted to make her proud today.

And somehow...

He felt like he hadn't.

Unknown to him...

Miles away...

In a small bedroom...

A girl sat hugging her pillow...

Equally sad.

Equally disappointed.

For the very same reason.
----------------

Time Skip

By the time evening faded into night...

The match was over.

Gujarat Titans had won.

Cheers echoed around the stadium, fireworks bursting somewhere in the distance, players shaking hands, cameras flashing everywhere.

But for Abhishek...

None of it mattered.

The loss already felt heavy.

And on top of that, his early dismissal kept replaying in his head like a loop.

That one shot.
That one mistake.
That one catch.

"Should've stayed longer..." he muttered to himself while walking back toward the pavilion.

Inside the dressing room, the atmosphere was quieter than usual.

Some players sat silently scrolling through their phones.
Some removed their pads in frustration.
Some just stared at the floor.

Abhishek sat on the bench, elbows on his knees, towel around his neck, lost in thought.

Just then, a staff member walked in.

Staff: Abhishek, yeh lo. Tumhari mom phone bhool gayi stand mein.
(Here, your mom forgot her phone in the stands.)

Abhishek looked up, surprised.

Abhishek: Oh- thank you, bhaiya.

He took the phone carefully, almost smiling.

"Typical Ma..." he shook his head softly.

He immediately unlocked it and sent a quick message to his sister.

Text to Komal di:

Ma da phone mere kol aa, hotel pahunch ke de dunga

(Mom's phone is with me, will give it after reaching the hotel.)

He slipped it into his pocket safely.

After the post-match presentations, interviews, and prize distribution...

Both teams slowly headed toward their buses.

The stadium lights were dimmer now.

The noise had reduced.

Only tired footsteps and quiet conversations remained.

Abhishek boarded the team bus and took a window seat.

Bat bag beside him.
Head resting back.
Eyes half closed.

Players were still coming one by one.

They were waiting for everyone so the bus could leave together.

The night air felt heavy.

Just then-

A phone suddenly started ringing.

He frowned.

It wasn't his.

Then he remembered.

"Ma ka phone..."

He pulled it out.

Unknown Number.

"Is time kaun call kar raha hai...?" he murmured.

Maybe something important.

So he picked it up.

He lifted the phone to his ear.

He was just about to say-

"Hello-"

But before a single word could leave his mouth...

A girl's voice came rushing from the other side-

Fast. Breathless. Complaining.

As if she had been waiting to talk.

And he froze.

Sayali:
"Meher! Aaj ka match dekha tune? Tujhe pata hai... Abhishek aaj bohoot sad lag raha tha. Maine uski aankhon mein disappointment dekhi... khud ke liye."
(Meher! Did you watch today's match? You know... Abhishek looked really sad today. I saw disappointment in his eyes... for himself.)

Abhishek's thumb paused over the screen.

His name.

He stopped.

Didn't cut the call.

Without realizing... he kept listening.

Sayali:
"Usne bohot practice ki hogi aaj ke liye... pakka. Aur aaj unki mummy bhi aayi thi match dekhne. Jab woh dressing room jaa raha tha na... usne stands ki taraf dekha tha..."
(He must have practiced so much for today... for sure. And his mom had come to watch the match too. When he was walking back to the dressing room... he looked towards the stands...)

Her voice softened.

Sayali:
"Mujhe itna bura laga yaar... like... uski aankhon mein jo disappointment tha na... woh khud se hi tha..."
(I felt so bad... like... the disappointment in his eyes... it was towards himself...)

Abhishek slowly leaned back in his seat.

Silent.

Listening.

Something about the way she spoke... felt real.

Not like a fan.

Like someone who genuinely cared.

Sayali (softly, imagining):
"Agar main waha hoti na uske paas..."
(If I was there with him...)

Sayali:
"Toh sabse pehle bolti... 'Abhi... please itna serious mat ho na...'"
(Then first I'd say... 'Abhi... please don't be so serious...')

Sayali:
"Tumne apna 100% diya hai. Kabhi kabhi luck bhi saath nahi deta... aur woh hum control nahi kar sakte."
(You gave your 100%. Sometimes luck doesn't support you... and that's not something we can control.)

She sighed.

Sayali:
"Ek match se koi player chhota nahi ho jaata... aur ek bad day se koi talent kam nahi hota."
(One match doesn't make a player small... and one bad day doesn't reduce someone's talent.)

Sayali:
"Tum already bohot acha khelte ho... log sirf runs dekhte hain... par main effort dekhti hoon."
(You already play so well... people only look at runs... but I notice the effort.)

Her voice turned softer... almost protective.

Sayali:
"Pressure mat lo itna... mummy dekhne aayi thi na... unhe tum pe proud hi hoga. Runs ho ya na ho... beta toh unka same hi hai."
(Don't take so much pressure... your mom came to watch you, right... she must already be proud of you. Whether you score runs or not... you're still her son.)

Sayali:
"Parents ko bas apna baccha khush chahiye hota hai... scorecard nahi."
(Parents just want their child to be happy... not a scorecard.)

She smiled to herself.

Sayali:
"Aur waise bhi... tum jab smile karte ho na... tab zyada ache lagte ho. Sad face bilkul suit nahi karta tumpe."
(And anyway... you look better when you smile. A sad face doesn't suit you at all.)

Sayali:
"So please... udaas mat rehna."
(So please... don't stay sad.)

Sayali:
"Next match mein na... tum pakka dhamaka karoge. Mujhe full trust hai tumpe."
(In the next match... you'll definitely create magic. I have full trust in you.)

Sayali:
"Main hoti na... toh bolti - jao, tension chhodo, mast khelo... baaki sab universe pe leave karo."
(If I were there... I'd say - go, forget the tension, play freely... leave the rest to the universe.)

She laughed softly.

Sayali:
"Har hero ka ek flop scene hota hai... tabhi toh comeback movie blockbuster lagti hai."
(Every hero has one flop scene... that's what makes the comeback movie feel like a blockbuster.)

Sayali:
"So Mr. Sharma... comeback ke liye ready raho."
(So Mr. Sharma... be ready for your comeback.)

Almost whispering now -

Sayali:
"Bas khush raho... healthy raho... baaki sab ho jaayega. Tum already enough ho."
(Just stay happy... stay healthy... everything else will fall into place. You're already enough.)

Sayali:
"Mujhe pata hai abhi bhi woh udaas hi hoga..."
(I know he must still be sad right now...)

Pause.

Then hurriedly -

Sayali:
"Tu samajh rahi hai na main kya bol rahi hoon?"
(You understand what I'm trying to say, right?)

Without realizing...

Abhishek softly replied -

Abhishek: Hmm...

The word slipped out automatically.

Sayali:
"Arre... tere awaaz ko kya hua?"
(Hey... what happened to your voice?)

He froze.

Didn't speak.

But Sayali, being Sayali, continued again.

Sayali (dramatically):
"Waise kuch bhi ho... handsome toh bohot lag raha tha woh... hayeeeee... main vaari jaaun!"
(Whatever it is... he was looking very handsome... oh my God... I'm totally gone for him!)

Abhishek blinked.

His ears turned red.

A shy smile appeared on his lips.

He looked out of the bus window, embarrassed for no reason.

Sayali:
"Yaar bas woh khush rahe... jab woh smile karta hai na... bada cute lagta hai..."
(I just want him to stay happy... when he smiles... he looks really cute...)

She laughed softly.

Sayali:
"Uff... main bhi na... bilkul pagal hoon. Sapne bhi filmy dekhti hoon uske baare mein."
(Ugh... I'm so crazy. I even daydream filmy things about him.)

She giggled at herself.

On the other side-

Abhishek's heart was beating faster.

Fluttering.

No one had ever spoken about him like this.

Not about his fame.

Not about cricket.

Just...

Him.

His feelings.

And somehow...

A random unknown girl's soft, silly, honest words felt more comforting than a thousand cheers in a stadium.

His smile.

He couldn't stop smiling now.

Sayali: Abe tu kuch bol kyun nahi rahi hai? Gungi ho gayi kya?

(Why aren't you talking? Did you go mute?)

Finally-

He spoke properly.

Soft. Calm.

Abhishek: Hello.

Instant silence.

Her dramatic energy vanished.

Introvert mode activated.

Sayali (nervously): A-aap... kaun bol rahe ho? Aur Meher kahan hai?

( Who... who are you? Where's Meher?)

Abhishek smiled faintly.

Abhishek: Aapne wrong number lagaya hai ji.

(You dialed the wrong number.)

Sayali frowned slightly, confused.

Sayali (murmuring to herself):
"Kyaa...? Par maine toh Meher ko call lagaya tha..."
(What...? But I dialed Meher...)

She quickly pulled the phone away from her ear and checked the screen.

Unknown number.

Her eyes widened.

She smacked her forehead lightly.

Sayali:
"Hey Deva... majhya sobatch asa ka hota re!"
(Oh God... why does this only happen with me!)

She made a tiny crying face, completely embarrassed.

On the other side-

Abhishek heard everything.

Her innocent self-talk.

Her panic.

Her cute frustration.

And without realizing...

He started imagining her expressions.

The pout.

The forehead slap.

The embarrassed face.

A soft smile spread across his lips.

Somehow...

He had already forgotten he was sad.

Sayali (nervously, fast):
"I am really sorry... mujhse galti se lag gaya tha call..."
(I'm really sorry... I called you by mistake...)

Before he could even reply-

She hurriedly cut the call.

Abhishek stared at the screen for a second.

Then whispered softly to himself-

Abhishek (whispering):
"She is cute..."
(She is cute...)

Just then, Ishan suddenly dropped into the seat beside him.

Ishan (teasing):
"Kisse bol raha hai cuteee... huh?"
(Who are you calling cute... huh?)

Abhishek got startled.

Abhishek:
" Kisiko Nahi!"
(No!)

Ishan (smirking):
"Acchaji 😏"
(Oh really? 😏)

Abhishek (irritated):
"Haan haan, ab jaa... aur muh theek kar. Bandar lag raha hai."
(Yeah yeah, now go... and fix your face. You look like a monkey.)

Ishan:
"Waise itna khush kyun hai tu? Abhi tak toh sade hue tamatar jaisa ghoom raha tha... kaun tha call pe?"
(By the way, why are you so happy? Till now you were roaming around like a rotten tomato... who was on the call?)

Abhishek:
"Faltu ke sawaal mat puch... chup chaap baith. Dimaag mat kharab kar."
(Don't ask useless questions... just sit quietly. Don't irritate me.)

Ishan (laughing):
"Accha theek hai theek hai... jaisa aap kahe, janaab."
(Okay fine fine... as you say, sir.)

All the team members boarded the bus.

The bus started moving toward the hotel.

After two minutes-

Ishan leaned close to Abhishek's ear again.

Ishan (whispering):
"Sach sach bata... kaun tha call pe?"
(Tell me honestly... who was on the call?)

Abhishek jumped slightly.

He shot Ishan a sharp glare.

Ishan immediately sat straight like an innocent kid.

Silent.

After some time, they reached the hotel.

Players started getting down one by one.

Abhishek stepped down last.

He glanced around.

No one watching.

Quickly-

He opened his phone.

Added her number.

Saved it.

For a second...

He stared at the contact name.

And smiled to himself.

Narrator (playful):
"Dekha guys... bichari Sayali ko toh pata bhi nahi... jisse woh chup-chup ke pasand karti hai... wahi uska number save kar raha hai."
(See guys... poor Sayali doesn't even know... the person she secretly likes... is saving her number right now.)
----------------

At the Hotel

The team bus finally stopped in front of the hotel.

Players stepped down one by one, tired but quiet after the long day.

Abhishek adjusted his bag on his shoulder and walked inside.

Near the lobby-

He spotted two familiar faces.

His mother.

And his sister.

Both waiting just for him.

The moment his mother saw him, her eyes softened.

He walked up to her and handed her phone back.

Abhishek:
"Ma... tussi phone bus ch bhool gaye si."
(Ma... you forgot your phone in the stands.)

Mother (smiling gently):
"Oye mera baccha... thank you. Mainu pata hi nahi lagga."
(Oh my child... thank you. I didn't even realize.)

She looked at him carefully.

A mother's eyes never miss anything.

Mother (softly):
"Thak gaya na tu? Match baare zyada soch mat."
(You're tired, right? Don't overthink the match.)

Sister (nudging him playfully):
"Haan hero ji, aaj runs kam the... par attitude full tha."
(Yes Mr. Hero, runs were less today... but attitude was full.)

He rolled his eyes.

Mother (holding his face):
"Sun... har din same nahi hunda. Kabhi jeet, kabhi haar. Par mere layi tu hamesha best hi hai."
(Listen... every day isn't the same. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. But for me, you're always the best.)

Sister:
"Next match mein sab uda dena. Aur haan... smile kar. Sad face suit nahi karta tujhe."
(Destroy everyone in the next match. And yes... smile. Sad face doesn't suit you.)

A small smile appeared on his lips.

That warmth.

That comfort.

Only family could give.

Abhishek (softly):
"Haan... theek aa. Kal better hoga."
(Yeah... it's okay. Tomorrow will be better.)

After that, they hugged briefly and went to their respective rooms to rest.

On the other hand - Sayali's house

The moment Sayali cut the call-

She fell flat on her bed.

Face buried in pillow.

Whining like a kid.

Pure embarrassment.

Sayali:
"Devaaa... tula thodi pan daya nahi yet ka majhya var!"
(Goddd... don't you have even a little mercy on me!)

She immediately grabbed her phone again.

This time-

VERY carefully.

Clicked Meher's number.

Double-checked.

Then called.

She told her the entire story.

Every single detail.

Meher started laughing loudly.

Sayali (offended):
"Tu meri dost hai ki dushman? Hass kya rahi merepe, gadhi!"
(Are you my friend or my enemy? Why are you laughing at me, idiot!)

Meher (laughing):
"Arre tune baat hi aisi ki hai... hassi toh aayegi na!"
(You said things in such a funny way... of course I'll laugh!)

Sayali:
"Hatt yaar!"
(Shut up, yaar!)

But after a moment-

She started laughing too.

Both of them laughing like crazy.

For almost an hour.

Talking nonsense.

Teasing.

Then-

They finally said goodbye and cut the call.

Sayali lay down again.

Staring at the ceiling.

Thinking.

Sayali (murmuring softly):
"Woh theek hoga na...?"
(He must be okay... right?)

Sayali:
"Abhi kya kar raha hoga...?"
(What must he be doing now...?)

Sayali:
"Bas overthinking na kar raha ho..."
(I hope he's not overthinking...)

Little did she know...

Without even realizing...

She had already brought a smile to his face.

She had already comforted him.

Hotel Room - Night

Abhishek freshened up and lay down on the bed.

Lights off.

Room silent.

But his mind wasn't.

Only one thing replaying-

Her voice.

That random girl.

Abhishek (thinking):
"Kaun thi woh...?"
(Who was she...?)

Abhishek:
"Mujhe itna kaise samajh gayi...?"
(How did she understand me so well...?)

Abhishek:
"Uski baatein sunke itna sukoon kyun mila...?"
(Why did listening to her feel so peaceful...?)

He smiled unconsciously.

Abhishek (soft chuckle):
"Cute thi..."
(She was cute...)

Suddenly he snapped out of it.

Abhishek:
"What the hell am I thinking... get a grip, Abhishek."
(What the hell am I thinking... get a grip.)

And slowly-

He drifted off to sleep.

Both of them...

Sleeping peacefully.

Completely unaware...

That someday...

Something big...

Something life-changing...

Was about to bring their worlds together. 😉
----------------

✨ Author's Note

Can you guys guess what will happen next?
Comment down your thoughts 💭
Don't forget to like, share, and follow 🤍

See you in the next chapter!
With love,
Your author✨🧚🏻‍♀️

To be continued...