chapter one / cuckoo gill

"Something is so wrong with him," Hardik muttered to Ishan. The 2 were in the practice grounds in the nets warming up.

The Indian team didn't have many matches coming up, so they were allowed to relax.

"I swear, I saw him giggling and texting something like a maniac last night while walking towards the elevator, " KL Rahul chimed in.

He was seated on the grass, removing his leg pads.

"Now also he's talking to himself yaar," Virat spoke, dragging his hand over his face.

The group watched as he stood near the nets, removing his helmet and running a hand through his now slightly long hair.

He was sweating, his jersey clinging to his body, and a few strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead.

"He looks hot, " Ishan whispered earning a swat on the back of his head from Rohit.

"See he's still whispering to himself, " Washington Sundar muttered to Yashaswi Jaiswal.

The 2 were seated on a bench next to the big boys watching the Punjabi Munda remove his leg pads while muttering to himself about something.

No one could hear what he was muttering though.

They watched as he took a sip from his bottle, before grabbing his things and making his way to the dressing room.

"He's gone crack I swear.  We should take him to a psychiatrist," Hardik suggested.

"Yeah, I think so too," Rohit agreed.

Shubman meanwhile kept his leg pads and gloves in his locker before wiping his face and neck with his towel. He had a single airpod in his left ear that no one had ever noticed because his hair always hid it.

He then took another sip of water from the bottle before making his way to his room.

Upon reaching he locked the door behind him, after which he removed his shoes, socks and sweaty jersey revealing his sweaty sculpted body.

He walked towards the mirror in his room, tilting his face to the side as he caressed his jaw. He sighed, disconnecting the call from the airpod before placing his phone next to his ear.

"Mhm, I know, practice just got over. The boys were giving me weird looks as usual, but I had to act like I didn't notice," he spoke on the phone still looking at his own reflection, as he ran a hand through his hair again.

"Do you think I should cut my hair or something?" He asked on the call scratching his cheek. 

"Okay, I won't cut it. Also, I think a mosquito bit me. I see a small red bump on my cheek," he poured though the person on the other end of the call couldn't see.

"Anyway, I'll let you do your work. I need to shower. Wish you were here to join me though, " he muttered as he grabbed a fresh towel from the shelf.

"Okay okay, I'll talk to you later baby, love you, " he laughed before the call disconnected as he plugged in the mobile for charging after which he walked away to the bathroom.

Shubman stepped into the shower, the cool water instantly hitting his skin, washing away the sweat of the day. But the warmth of the stream did nothing to calm the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the water cascade over his face as he leaned back, letting it soak through his hair and trickle down his chest.

His mind wandered, lost in the rhythmic sounds of the water and the echo of the faint conversation he'd just had. He smiled, absently reaching for the bottle of body wash, his fingers gliding over the slick surface. 

His thoughts drifted, as they always did when he was alone, to the only person who seemed to make sense in his world.

Verena.

Her face flashed in his mind, her laugh, her sharp wit, the way she didn't need to try to be stunning—she just was. 

Her dark hair falling effortlessly over her shoulders, the kind of effortless beauty that left him breathless. 

How could someone so perfect also be so damn chill?

She made him feel like he could actually breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on him, without the constant eyes on him, the expectations. 

With her, there was no 'Shubman Gill, the cricket star.' There was just him. And for once, that felt good.

He chuckled to himself as he let the warm water massage his back, remembering the last time they were together. 

He could still hear her teasing him about his hair, telling him it was "too perfect" and that he'd look like a model if he ever decided to quit cricket and make a career out of it.

I'd rather be a cricket star, baby, but I'd love to let you design my wardrobe, he thought, biting back a grin as he imagined her reaction to that.

He daydreamed about her for a while longer—of the way she would look in her favourite oversized sweater, eyes sparkling with mischief, laughing as she tried to teach him how to skate (he'd never admit it, but he did enjoy those moments of them just being normal).

But soon, the warmth of the water wasn't enough to distract him from the storm of thoughts inside his head. 

The boys' teasing still lingered—"he's gone crazy," "take him to a therapist." 

He could almost hear their voices, echoing in his mind. It pissed him off—he knew they were just messing with him, but it was still annoying.

He flicked the water off his face, scrubbing his fingers through his wet hair as the steam filled the small bathroom. 

It felt like the whole world had a stake in his life. Like every move he made, every smile, every word—was being watched and analyzed. And for what?

With her, he didn't have to worry about that.

He closed his eyes again, imagining her voice—soft but commanding, teasing but loving. She was probably in the middle of another design project, lost in her world of fabric swatches and inspiration boards.

He smiled to himself, biting his lip as he let his thoughts linger on her. Maybe it was time to call her again. He missed her laugh already. Missed the way she made him forget about everything else.

Just before he turned off the water, a sudden thought hit him.

I wonder what they'd think if they knew...

The image of his teammates' shocked faces flashed in his mind. Hardik's eyes wide with disbelief, Virat's jaw hanging open, KL Rahul probably muttering something about "I told you so." 

The idea of them knowing about Verena made his stomach twist with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

But in the end, he didn't care.

It was his secret, and he wasn't about to let anyone ruin it. He was living the best of both worlds—cricket stardom by day, her by night. What more could he ask for?

He took one last deep breath, the steam from the shower swirling around him. 

"Damn, I really do need to cut my hair," he muttered to himself, before laughing and turning off the water.

But even as he reached for his towel, he knew he wasn't going to cut it. Not anytime soon. Not while she liked it just the way it was.

And besides, his hair was the least of his worries.

He had a date with her later, and that was all that mattered.

SOUP RANTS!

the first chapter is here!
did we like it?
do comment your favorite part
what do you think will happen in the next chapter?

until then
yours lovingly,
soup <3