Ishan was jolted awake by a vivid memory, a memory he had desperately tried to forget. It haunted him every night, depriving him of sleep. This memory had driven him to an unexpected decision: buying a sports franchise.

Raj, his identical twin, had been his anchor through their turbulent lives. Their parents died in a car crash when they were four, and their grandparents raised them. Though they were twins, their natures were poles apart. Raj was calm, mature, and oriented, while Ishan was the spoiled one. The number of times Ishan had messed up and Raj had cleaned up after him was countless.

"Where will you go if something happens to me? Who will cover up your messes from Grandpa then?" Raj had scolded him once.

"You love me too much to abandon me," Ishan had chuckled.

"I hate you!" Raj had retorted, though his eyes said otherwise.

"No you don’t "-Ishan would jump on his brother and both started to laugh and fight.

Everything changed when Grandpa decided to retire and hand over the family business to Raj. But suddenly Raj met a sportsman, fell deeply in love, and decided to move to India to be with him.

"You will leave us? Tell him to move here!" Grandpa demanded, his voice shaking with disbelief.

"He can't, Grandpa. He's on the national team and going through a tough time. He needs me," Raj explained, desperation in his eyes.

"And what about us? Your orphaned brother? Do we mean nothing to you? Is this how you repay us for raising you?" Grandpa's voice trembled with a mix of anger and sorrow.

"I will visit occasionally, Grandpa. I promise to handle everything online, and Chachu is here to help," Raj pleaded, his voice breaking.

"Dad, let the poor boy go. He's never had the chance to choose love in his life. Let's not stand in his way now," their uncle intervened, his tone soothing.

"You've all gone mad! It's too dangerous. Even here, he doesn't move without bodyguards. If someone knows our family’s net worth..."

"No one will know me there, Grandpa. Not even my boyfriend," Raj promised, his voice steady but his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"No, you can't go. Choose: us or him," Grandpa's voice was final, the ultimatum hanging in the air like a death sentence.

Raj stood there, torn between his love for his family and his love for the sportsman. Finally, with a heavy heart, he chose love. He left that night, vanishing without a trace, severing all contact. Ishan tried to find him, but he didn’t even know which sport Raj’s lover played. So, Ishan bought a franchise, hoping to stay connected with the sports world, thinking it might lead him to Raj.

Ishan wasn’t home when Raj left for good. If he had been, he might have stopped him or at least left with him. When he returned, he found that Raj had left his locket behind for Ishan and taken Ishan's as a memory.

"If you want to take over the property, you have to prove you're mature now and act like one," Grandpa declared, his eyes stern.

"I will be responsible, Grandpa," Ishan vowed, determination burning in his chest.

"Dad, maybe give him some time? He's still a kid, not responsible like Raj. How about I train him for a bit?" their uncle suggested, his voice gentle.

But Grandpa was stubborn. "No, you have to marry within the next six months. If you can take care of a partner, I'll trust you with the property. Otherwise, I'll donate everything to charity."

"How is marriage and maturity related grandpa,You are talking like an old fashioned"-Ishan complained.

" Well,for someone who spends half of the day in clubs,You need to be old fashioned. This is my final decision"-Grandpa ordered.

That's how Ishan trapped into the marriage thing.Ishan begged Aditi to marry him and she obliged then.They came to India for the wedding. He didn't even know if Raj had seen him on TV after buying the franchise. He hoped Raj had because it was everywhere  and would contact him one day.

On night, as he stared at the ceiling, clutching the locket, Ishan whispered into the darkness, "Raj, where are you? I need you. Please, come back." Tears streamed down his face, soaking the pillow beneath him. The weight of his brother's absence pressed heavily on his heart, making it hard to breathe.

"One day, I'll disappear just to see how you cope with Grandpa," Raj used to say when they were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Grandpa will throw me out!" Ishan would reply, laughing.

"Hehe, yeah, that might happen," Raj laughed along.

"Plus, I can't even survive without you," Ishan used to say, the fear of such a day lingering in his voice.

"Ishan, you’re strong. Stronger than you think. You don’t need me to clean up your messes," Raj had said, his tone soft but firm.

"I don’t want to be strong. I want my brother," Ishan replied, hugging Raj tightly.

Raj had hugged him back, holding him close. They had drifted off to sleep, cocooned in each other's warmth and comfort.

Now, as Ishan wiped away his tears and clutched the locket inscribed with "Raj," he made a vow, "I will find you, Raj. And I will bring you back home."

Unable to sleep anymore, Ishan decided to take a stroll around the garden of Shubman's house. He and Aditi had stayed the night at Shubman's request, planning to head back to Mumbai the next day. It was almost morning, and the sun was beginning to peek through the trees bordering the property.

"Coffee?" a voice called out, breaking the silence.

Ishan turned to see Shubman approaching, smiling with two cups of coffee in hand. There was something about Shubman’s presence that calmed Ishan’s racing mind, quieting the background noise of his overthinking.

"I saw you walking from the balcony, so I thought I'd offer you some coffee," Shubman said, handing a cup to Ishan.

"Thanks, I think I needed it," Ishan replied, taking a sip. They started walking through the garden together, the cool morning air wrapping around them.

"Shubman," Ishan began.

"Hmm?" Shubman responded, looking at him.

"Do you think me buying GT was aired on national television?"

"It aired everywhere. You're viral now. Girls are pining over you on Twitter and Instagram, saying, 'God, me when?'" Shubman said with a chuckle.

"You know a lot, I see," Ishan teased.

"I... umm... I stumbled upon some edits," Shubman admitted, biting his lip at his casual blurt, revealing his interest in Ishan.

Ishan smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the coffee. They walked in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company. The garden was beautiful, filled with fragrant flowers and the soft hum of morning life.

After a while, Shubman glanced sideways at Ishan, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, since your engagement with Aditi was just a deal, does that mean you're back on the market?" he asked, laughing lightly.

Ishan chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess you could say that. But, you know, Grandpa still thinks I need to prove I'm responsible enough to take over the family business."

Shubman nodded thoughtfully. "That's a lot of pressure. But you're handling it pretty well, I think."

"Thanks, Shubman. It's not easy, but I don't have much of a choice," Ishan said, taking a deep breath.

"Well, if you ever need a break from all that pressure, you know where to find me," Shubman said,

"Thank you," Ishan whispered, squeezing Shubman's hand

Shubman stepped closer, his free hand gently brushing a strand of hair from Ishan’s forehead. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m here because I want to be."

Their faces were inches apart now, and Ishan could feel Shubman's breath on his skin.Ishan's thinking was being fogged second by second.He wanted to do things he shouldn’t want to.

"When is our flight to Mumbai?" Ishan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll leave in an hour for the airport," Shubman replied, his hand still entwined with Ishan's.

They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them fading away. In that quiet garden, amidst the blooming flowers and the rising sun, Ishan found a new sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could find Raj and bring him back home. And perhaps, along the way, he could find a new beginning with Shubman.

They had just finished breakfast and were all seated in the car, ready to leave for the airport.

"Shit, I forgot my phone," Ishan exclaimed, patting his pockets.

"It must be on the dining table. You were clicking photos of Shubman's mom's food," Aditi reminded him.

"I'll go get it," Ishan said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Should I come?" Shubman offered.

"No, no, I’ll just grab it quickly," Ishan replied, already heading towards the house.

He almost ran inside, moving quickly through the hallway. As he rounded a corner, he collided with the house cook, who was carrying a tray of leftover butter chicken.

"Oh, God, bhaia, I'm so sorry," the cook said, clearly frightened by the scene.

The chicken soup had splashed all over Ishan’s shirt, soaking it completely.

Shubman's mother came running at the sound. "Oh dear, your shirt is ruined. Let me take you to Shubman's room and get you a clean shirt."

"Aunty, I’ll go by myself. You don’t have to bother. Just tell me which direction," Ishan insisted, trying to manage the mess.

"Upstairs, second door on the left," she instructed.

Ishan quickly made his way up to Shubman's room. He opened the closet, searching for a shirt that would fit. As he sifted through the clothes, his dhaga got caught on something. He tugged gently, trying to free it, and ended up pulling out the source of the entanglement.

It was a photo frame.

Ishan froze, staring at the picture. It was Raj, Shubman, and  Shahneel, laughing together at the camera. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of shock and confusion flooding his mind.

Just then, Shubman's call interrupted his thoughts.

"Hurry up or we’ll miss the flight," Shubman said over the phone.

"I’ll be right there," Ishan replied, his voice shaky. He quickly grabbed a shirt, changed, and made his way back to the car, his mind racing with questions.

How did Shubman know Raj? Why hadn’t he mentioned it before? What did this mean?Then Ishan remembered the locket, he saw on Shubman's Instagram.

Throughout the drive to the airport, Ishan remained silent, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He glanced at Shubman, who seemed oblivious, chatting casually with Aditi. The photograph kept replaying in Ishan’s mind, a stark reminder of the connection he didn’t know existed.

Once they boarded the plane, Ishan stared out the window, his mind still overthinking the revelation. He didn’t tell Aditi about the photograph, unsure of how to even begin that conversation. His trust in Shubman felt shaken, yet there was a part of him that wanted to believe there was an explanation.

As the plane took off, Ishan closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. Memories of Raj flooded his mind, mingling with his confusion about Shubman. He felt a pang of betrayal but also a flicker of hope. If Shubman knew Raj, maybe he could help find him.

Why hadn't Shubman said anything? Did Raj ask him to keep it a secret? Or was there something more complicated going on?Is this why Shubman acted so weird first time?

Ishan's mind was a storm of questions without answers. He replayed every interaction with Shubman, looking for signs, clues, anything that might have hinted at this connection.He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing. He wanted to confront Shubman, to demand answers, but now was not the time.

Landing in Mumbai, Ishan remained quiet, his eyes distant. Aditi tried to engage him in conversation, but he responded with short, distracted answers. She noticed his unease but decided not to press him, thinking he was just tired.

They reached their apartment, and Ishan headed straight to his room, shutting the door behind him. He sank onto the bed, the photo frame still vivid in his mind. He had to talk to Shubman, but he needed to gather his thoughts first.

Just then, there was a knock on his door. It was the housekeeper.

"Sir, this parcel came for you yesterday."

"Parcel? But I didn’t order anything. Who delivered it?" Ishan asked, puzzled.

"Sir, I don't know. It was on the front door in the morning. It was addressed to you," the housekeeper replied, handing over the package.

"Okay, give it to me," Ishan said, taking the parcel from her.

The package was small and unassuming, wrapped in plain brown paper with no return address. Ishan's curiosity was piqued, and he quickly brought it over to his bed, sitting down with it. Carefully, he unwrapped the paper, revealing a mini sculpture inside. The sculpture was intricately detailed, with the words "Break me" etched into its surface.

Furrowing his brow, Ishan hesitated for a moment. The whole situation felt strange, but his curiosity got the better of him. He took a deep breath and then smashed the sculpture against the edge of his desk.

The sculpture shattered into pieces, revealing a hidden compartment inside. Nestled within the fragments was a handwritten note. Ishan unfolded the note, his heart pounding with anticipation.

The message was brief but chilling:

"Everything you know is a lie. You are next. Don't dig much, trust no one, and run back to your country"