2024

The morning air was thick with anticipation, the buzz of the set carrying through the atmosphere as the team prepped for the day's shoot. 

Shubman Gill, fresh off a flight from his last match, had just arrived at the high-end location where the next big ad campaign for G-Shock was about to kick off. 

The familiar hum of the crew, the sharp clink of camera equipment, and the distant chatter of stylists filled the air.

As soon as Shubman entered, he was swiftly ushered into a dressing room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. 

He let out a slow breath, adjusting his shoulders after the long travel, before glancing at the rack of clothes waiting for him. 

White linen pants. A crisp white T-shirt. A sleek beige jacket. 

The combination screamed class and elegance, which was exactly the vibe he was going for today.

He stripped out of his casual clothes and into the outfit, a sharp contrast to the gym sweats he had been wearing earlier. 

The soft fabric felt comfortable against his skin as the stylist worked on his hair, gently brushing it into place. 

He leaned back slightly, looking into the mirror, his mind wandering off to all the things he had to do in the coming days.

The stylist, focused on their work, didn't hear the knock on the door. But when it opened a moment later, Shubman's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

It was her.

Navya.

She stood in the doorway, taking off her sunglasses with a deliberate calmness, her eyes locking onto his in an instant. 

For a moment, neither of them moved, as if time had frozen.

Shubman's heart raced, the years of separation flooding back to him in a rush of emotions. His throat went dry, and his pulse quickened. 

He hadn't expected this. 

He had hoped—prayed, even—that one day he might run into her again, but this? 

This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

Navya's breath hitched too as she took in the sight of him, looking every bit the part of the suave, sophisticated cricketer she had once known as the boy who had stolen her heart. 

The years hadn't changed the way he looked at all. 

He was still Shubman. But then, how could they have changed?

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy. Neither of them knew what to say, both unsure of how to bridge the gap that had grown between them over the years.

Finally, Navya broke the silence. She motioned toward the stylists, who had paused mid-movement, clearly aware of the tension. 

"Could you... could you step outside for a while?" she said in a soft, controlled voice, her eyes never leaving Shubman.

The stylists, sensing the need for privacy, quickly packed up their things and shuffled out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. 

The door clicked softly behind them.

Shubman swallowed hard, still not quite sure how to respond. He could barely focus on anything but the fact that she was here. 

She was standing right in front of him, in a professional setting that seemed so foreign to their shared past.

"Navya..." His voice cracked as he spoke her name, the years of silence between them suddenly feeling like a vast, insurmountable ocean. 

"I... I didn't know you were—"

"Directing the shoot? Yeah. Same here," she said with a faint, strained smile, cutting him off. 

She seemed just as shaken as he felt, but her composure was still intact. 

She was a professional, after all. "I didn't know you'd be the one modelling."

Shubman let out a breath of disbelief. "I didn't know either. I had no idea you were even in this world. I mean, you're... you're amazing at it."

She shook her head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "And I didn't expect you to be the face of a G-Shock campaign, Mr. Superstar cricketer." 

Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it, an undertone of something deeper that neither of them had addressed.

The distance between them was palpable, like an invisible wall they had both built over the years without realizing. But now, at this moment, that wall seemed thinner.

Shubman stepped forward slightly, unsure if he was overstepping, but desperate to break the silence, to break the tension. 

"Navya... after all this time, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. Not like this." He glanced down at the ground, running a hand through his hair. 

"I—"

But before he could finish his thought, Navya cut him off again, her voice softer now, but firm. 

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again either, Shubman. But here we are." 

She took a step back, her eyes now a little distant, though there was still that faint spark of something—something familiar—that made his chest tighten.

He nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line as he searched for the right words. 

His heart was racing in his chest, and every inch of him wanted to ask the questions that had haunted him for years. 

Where have you been? Why didn't you come back that night? Why didn't you ever call me again?

But he held himself back. He had already ruined so much. Maybe he didn't have the right to ask anything.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice full of regret. "For everything. I should've called. I shouldn't have left you like that."

Navya's expression softened for a brief moment, but she quickly masked it, her professional demeanour returning. 

"Shubman," she said gently, "we were both different back then. We were kids. And we both made choices that led us here." 

Her eyes met his, and for a second, he thought he saw something shift. "But this is work. I'm here to do my job. You're here to do yours."

The words hit him like a slap, sharp and cold. The distance between them—physically, emotionally—had never been greater than in this moment. 

The last remnants of their shared past seemed like a distant memory, like something that belonged to another lifetime.

He nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah. Work."

There was a long silence before Navya cleared her throat, looking away briefly as she pulled herself together. 

"I'll have the stylists back in a minute. You'll look great for the shoot. Just... just get ready." She stepped toward the door, her hand brushing the handle, before she turned back to him one last time.

"I'm... I'm glad you're doing well, Shubman," she said quietly, her voice almost too soft to hear. "Really."

soup rants!!!

the fifteenth 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