2024

The sound of laughter, playful banter, and a little too much beer echoed through the hotel room as the Indian cricket team relaxed after a long day. 

The boys had gathered for a small trip to unwind before heading back into the rigours of training and matches. 

They sprawled across the room in various positions, some on the couches, others on the floor, enjoying their downtime.

Shubman Gill, however, was seated alone by the window, fiddling absentmindedly with his wallet. 

His teammates were too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice the quiet moment he had carved out for himself. 

He was flipping through the photos in his wallet, but his eyes lingered on one in particular—a picture from his childhood.

It was an old photograph of him and Navya, taken when they were just 13. 

She had always been there for him. He remembered how she had stood up for him when no one else would, how she had been his constant, his best friend. 

His thoughts drifted back to that night, under their favorite banyan tree by the lake.

Shubman could still hear her soft voice, the way she laughed when they joked about everything and nothing. 

They were always inseparable, always there for each other. Until that night when everything changed.

That night, when he had gotten the call, promising her he'd be back in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes turned into hours. He never went back. He couldn't.

He had made the decision, or rather, it had made itself, to focus on his career, his future in cricket. But he had never stopped thinking about her.

Not for a single moment.

Shubman sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the memory press against him. His thumb traced the edges of the old photograph, the corners curled slightly with time. 

The photograph was of him and Navya at their favourite spot—her bright smile and his goofy expression, a moment frozen in time when everything had felt so simple, so right.

He hadn't heard from her since that night. 

No calls. No texts. Nothing. 

He'd searched for her on social media countless times, but there was always that nagging feeling that he was too late. 

That she had moved on. That she had forgotten him.

"Oi, what's that you're looking at?" Virat Kohli's voice broke through his thoughts, his voice loud and playful as he approached Shubman, still clutching a beer bottle in hand.

Shubman quickly shoved the wallet back into his pocket, his heart skipping a beat. 

He looked up to see Virat's curious eyes on him, and suddenly, it felt like the walls were closing in.

"Nothing," Shubman mumbled, trying to brush it off, but his voice wavered slightly.

Virat raised an eyebrow, suspicious but not pressing too hard. "Come on, bro. We've all seen that look on your face. What's going on? Something's bothering you."

Shubman opened his mouth to respond, but his throat tightened. 

He couldn't speak. Not about her. 

Not about Navya. He could barely think about her without feeling the flood of emotions overwhelm him.

One of the other guys, Yashasvi Jaiswal, leaned in with a teasing grin. "Dude, we all know you've got that special someone back home. Is it a secret?"

The room quieted, the boys suddenly intrigued by the mysterious air around Shubman. They all leaned in, their attention fixed on him.

"Who's the lucky girl?" Hardik Pandya added, nudging Shubman with a grin.

Shubman felt the heat of their stares, his stomach in knots. It was all too much. He was fighting the urge to stand up and run out of the room, but something inside him snapped. 

He didn't want to lie anymore. He couldn't keep carrying this burden alone.

"It's not like that," Shubman finally whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. 

His teammates, sensing the shift in his demeanour, fell silent.

He opened his wallet again, hands trembling, and pulled out the photograph. He stared at it for a second, as if he was trying to hold on to something he was afraid of losing forever.

"This..." he said, his voice low, almost like a confession. "This is her."

The room was eerily still for a moment as everyone stared at the picture. They had expected a story about a model or some glamorous Bollywood actress, but instead, they were looking at a childhood photograph.

"You knew her when you were kids?" Rohit Sharma asked, his tone soft with curiosity.

Shubman nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah... we grew up together. She was my best friend."

Shreyas Iyer leaned forward, his face softening with understanding. "Then why do you look like you just lost her, mate?"

That's when it hit Shubman. 

The rush of everything he had buried for so long, all the pain, the guilt, and the confusion. His heart was full of unspoken words—words that he should have said years ago but never found the courage to.

"She's the one," Shubman whispered, his voice breaking. 

"She was always the one. I—I never told her. I never said it. And then one day, I left her. I promised her I'd be back in fifteen minutes, and I never showed up. I don't even know if she remembers me."

Shubman's breath hitched as he choked back the sob that was clawing at his chest. The boys exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from playful to concerned.

"Fuck..." Shubman muttered, a lone tear slipping down his cheek. "I fucked it all up."

In an instant, Virat moved toward him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Bro, it's okay," he said softly, his voice comforting. 

"You've been through a lot. We all know what it's like to get lost in the game. But you've got to stop beating yourself up over it."

But Shubman couldn't stop himself. His entire life had changed after that night. The guilt weighed him down like a ton of bricks. 

He had never given her the chance to know how he felt. And now, she was gone.

Rishabh Pant, who had been watching quietly from the corner, spoke up. 

"Shubman, you can't undo the past, man. But you can try to fix it. If she's out there, still in your heart, maybe it's time to reach out to her. Maybe she's been waiting for you too."

Shubman shook his head, his chest tight with emotion. "It's been too long. She probably has someone else by now. I'll never get that chance again."

The room fell quiet, everyone giving Shubman space to process.

"Man," Hardik Pandya finally said, his voice surprisingly soft, "sometimes we get so caught up in life that we forget the most important things. But you've got a chance. Don't let it slip away."

Shubman sniffled and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, trying to regain some composure. "I don't even know where to start."

Virat squeezed his shoulder. "Start with calling her."

Shubman let out a ragged breath and wiped his eyes one last time. "Yeah... maybe. Maybe it's time."

The boys didn't say anything more. They let Shubman have his moment, knowing that the path ahead was uncertain, but it was one he had to walk—one step at a time.

soup rants!!!

the tenth 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