Once Virat bhaiya had got Shubman to calm down, he called the doctor to do a quick check-up after which he declared Shubman fit to go.

As they signed the documents for clearance, Shubman swung between ribbing about Ishan to Virat bhaiya or pretending Ishan didn't exist.

Virat bhaiya bore with it all patiently.

"This time if he tries any mean trick, I'll slap the daylights out of him," he assured.

Then Shubman got into the second mode.

"There's no need," he said haughtily. "You can't beat sense into people. If they're heartless idiots, they will stay heartless idiots."

Virat bhaiya smiled and led the way to the cab waiting for them.

"You said it's a five minutes' walk, Virat bhaiya," said Shubman.

"Not for newly concussed people," retorted Virat bhaiya. "Now what did we discuss about helmets?"

"Always wear a helmet even if you're going to face one ball even in a practice session," said Shubman, "of pace."

"Of pace and spin both."

"Not spin too, Virat bhaiya!"

Virat bhaiya looked at him. Shubman backtracked.

"Of pace and spin both," he said meekly.

They reached the hotel in about three minutes. Someone from the staff called Virat bhaiya at the gates.

"Go to your room and sleep, ok?" he told Shubman before leaving. "Don't overthink. We'll talk tomorrow."

Shubman had almost entered the hotel when something, a sixth sense, told him to look right, in the direction of the cafeteria.

Ishan and Aditi were sitting at one of the open-air tables, sipping mocktails. They weren't audible from here, but they were talking. And they were sitting completely at ease, with nothing to suggest that there ever had been a break up.

Perhaps there hadn't been.

Clearly, there hadn't been.

***

The first thought to cross Shubman's mind was, Wow.

After all that drama about being crushed under a burden of expectations... After all that drama about it being easier to choose neither than choosing one of them... Leaving Shubman to wallow in loneliness, safely out of the way, Ishan had stayed with Aditi.

Without even telling him once.

With him out of the way, Ishan must have found it easy to choose Aditi.

If he had perceived it in a shallow fashion, Shubman would have thought it was jealousy.

He would have been lucky if it had been jealousy.

Unfortunately, it went far, far deeper.

The realization that Ishan could actually try to cut him off, not because Ishan was angry or because Shubman had done something wrong, but simply because Ishan, calmly and with sensible thought, chose Aditi. The realization that people were right when they said...and Aditi was right when she said...between best friend and girlfriend, anyone would choose their girlfriend.

The realization that the person, or the idea of the person he had put all his faith in, the one person he had never questioned, had all along been capable of abandoning him in cold blood.

He had just never considered Ishan could give him up for anything...

And he was doing that. Ishan was actually doing that.

The whole realization came in a millisecond.

Yet Shubman felt like he'd travelled a very long distance, and he was so very weary at the end of the journey.

Ishan's voice echoed inside his head, after he'd suggested pretending to keep a bit of distance between them to put Aditi's doubts at rest.

I knew I could count on you.

I knew I could count on you to leave without a scene so I can be happy with Aditi.

Any thoughts he'd had of going and facing Ishan and Aditi vanished instantly.

He slipped into the hotel quietly and went straight to his room.

***

Shubman gazed at the quarter-crescent moon without seeing anything much from his balcony. The slightest October chill tinged the air.

He felt like he ought to be crying. He didn't remember ever feeling such a shocking dearth of happiness. Which meant he had never been so sad.

So he ought to have been crying.

But he couldn't cry.

Some things, it seemed, were beyond tears.

***

Surely Ishan could have discussed it with him.

Surely he could at least have told him he wasn't breaking up with Aditi instead of lying, pretending he was done with expectations, pretending he was tired of Shubman and Aditi both...

Inside the room, his phone rang.

He made his way to fetch it slowly. He seemed to have lost the energy to do anything at a normal pace.

It was his sister.

"Hey, Shubi, how's your head?" she asked. "Virat bhaiya texted you'd not bothered with the helmet again an got hit."

Shubman didn't hear further than his sister's voice starting with 'Hey, Shubi.'

His sister, another person he trusted with everything.

If he couldn't trust Ishan, he couldn't trust Di.

He couldn't trust Virat bhaiya.

He couldn't trust Nisha.

He couldn't trust his parents.

He couldn't trust anyone.

"Shubi!" shouted Shahneel. "Are you still concussed?"

"No, Di," said Shubman. "I'm all right. I'll call you tomorrow."

It felt like he had been living in delusion his whole life.

***

Was it just he who had trusted some people with his life? 

Did this mean people didn't actually trust the ones they trusted the most with their lives?

If it was so easy for Ishan to toy with his trust and throw it away so casually, without ceremony, it should be easy for anyone to betray anyone.

Mir Jafar betrayed Nawab Siraj ud-Daulah.

Peter Pettigrew betrayed James and Lily Potter.

Suzaku betrayed Lelouch.

Friends always betrayed friends.

Because it was so easy.

Once you have someone's trust in your hands, you're free to do anything with it. 

Preserve it. Raze it. Preserve it till convenient and then raze it.

Ishan had kept his safe till it risked his relationship with Aditi.

Then he had discarded it.

***

Without even telling Shubman.

***

That night, Shubman learnt one thing, at any rate.

You never realize how your views on the world hinges on those few people you trust blindly till one of them comes and stabs you in the back.

***

Did you always keep me in the dark?

If you knew, why did you let me stay?

Should've never let you break my heart

Now there is nothing left for me to say

Cause I'm lost in the silence

Between you and me

Now you're gone

Nothing's left of what used to be