My fingers curled tighter around the bat, eyes locked on the automatic ball machine as it readied to launch the ball.

Focus on the ball, Sarthak, I told myself, closing my eyes to steady my mind and breath, but no matter how hard I tried, that one face kept flashing before my eyes.

A face with brown eyes, long wavy hair, soft pink lips, and a different carm that's hard to explain. I am trying to forget all of this, but something is stopping me from doing that.

A sharp crack echoed from the machine, snapping me out of my thoughts. My eyes flew open just in time to see the ball speeding toward me.

I swung my bat, the ball caught the edge of my bat, and soared high, and out of the net. A beautiful six. Just like her.

"What a shot, brother! What a six!"

I turned toward the entrance of the backyard, and spotted my best friend Agastya whom I address as Bhatt walked in with a grin.

The sun was almost down, and night had started to creep across the sky as I practiced in the backyard of my house.

I'd set up a small pitch here just so I could train here during the breaks I got between tournaments.

"I must've called you a hundred times since morning. Where the hell were you, Bhatt?" I asked, walking toward him.

"I love my peace and sleep during vacations, mate. But today... I was actually busy with something else," he said, tossing a water bottle toward me from the coffee table before dropping into the chair nearby.

I caught the bottle mid-air, twisted the cap open, and gave him a look, waiting for him to go on.

"I was shifting into that new apartment I told you about," he added.

"Congrats," I said, finally, knowing how long he'd been planning to move into that new place.

I took a slow sip from the bottle, then tilted it high, letting the rest of the water pour over my head. The cold water hit my burning skin, sliding through my messy, sweaty drenched hair and tracing down my neck, soaking into my black tee, clinging on skin.

"Well, congrats to you too," Bhatt smirked, tossing a towel towards my direction while shooting me those weird ass looks.

"What's wrong with you? Stop giving me that creepy face," I muttered, running the towel through my hair.

He chuckled. " You finally made your debut on the front page of the newspaper—with a girl."

I froze for a second, raising a brow.

"You and Ms. Ishika are all over the internet. Some people actually bought my lie that she was Adya," he laughed, shaking his head, "but some are still not convinced and think you're hiding the woman you love from the media."

"Let them believe whatever bullshit they want. I don't give a damn about them." I muttered, still drying my hair. But my mind kept drifting back to her. God, I just hope she doesn't see any of that crap online.

"Well, your mouth says one thing, but your heart?" Bhatt dragged his chair closer, eyeing me with that knowing smirk. "Not matching up, Sarthak."

I scoffed. "What the hell are you getting at, Bhatt?"

He raised a brow, not buying my act for a second. "I think you care about her."

"Care about who?"

"Ms. Ishika."

His voice didn't waver, "you saw her hurt at the entrance and rushed to help. Then you came inside, and asked me to talk to her and console her because she was crying. You even wanted me to drop her home."

He leaned back, arms crossed. "If that's not caring, I don't know what is."

"It's just basic decency to help someone," I muttered, still rubbing the towel through my hair, eyes fixed anywhere but on him.

"Oh really, mate?" Bhatt's voice dipped with that smug challenge. "Funny, cause I've never seen you be that decent with anyone else—but her."

Yeah, I told Agastya to go talk to her, and drop her home. Because I couldn't fucking stand seeing her cry. It did something to me,watching those tears fall from her eyes.

But before I could find the words to respond to Bhatt, my sister, Adya, strolled into the yard—busy as ever, vlogging away on her phone.

"It's eight in the evening, and I've already had my dinner. Now I'm out in the backyard for a peaceful little walk," Adya said sweetly to her phone camera, twirling around to show the yard.

But then her camera paused right on me.

"Oh, looks like my brother's out here practicing. Oops—can't show him, obviously. He's a camera shy." she teased. "But... seems like we've got his best friend with us!"

She swung the camera away from me and pointed it at Agastya. "Agastya bhai, come on, say hi to my viewers!"

"Hello, lovely viewers. Keep showering love on my Adu," Agastya chuckled, giving the camera a quick wave.

"Ugh! Stop calling me that, Agastya bhai! But thanks for the sweet words anyway," she said with a dramatic eye roll.

"So that's it for this vlog! I'm going to bed early tonight because I'm officially entering my clean girl era," she declared proudly. "So, my pretty ladies sleep early, because beauty sleep is everything for that natural glow. See you in the next vlog. Byeee!" She closed her camera and finally looked at us.

“When did you come, Agastya bhai?” Adya asked, walking up to Bhatt and giving him a side hug.

"Well hello there, my little sister," he grinned. "Just got here to meet your brother."

Agastya had always treated Adya like his own sister. And every Raksha Bandhan, she tied him a rakhi right alongside me because to her, he was never anything less. And honestly? Sometimes I think he has taken better care of her than I have.

"Wanna hear something shocking about your dear brother, Adya?" he said, shooting a smirk my way and pointing right at me.

Adya's brows shot up. "What is it?"

"Your brother is in love." What's wrong with him? What the hell is he saying?!

"WAIT, WHAT?!" Adya practically screamed. "No way. No freaking way, Agastya bhai—you're lying!" Agastya, who clearly couldn't hold it in any longer, spilled everything that happened last night.

She looked at him like he'd grown two heads, because of course, no woman had ever caught my attention before. But this time… I don't even know what the hell happened to me.

"I'm not lying. Why don't we ask your brother, Adya?" Agastya smirked, eyes dancing with mischief.

They both turned to me, wearing identical smug grins.

"Is that true, Bhai?" Adya asked, practically bouncing in place.

"Stop lying to yourself, Sarthak, and spit it out. We won't judge," Agastya added.

They stood there like interrogators, closing in.

I sighed and looked away, grabbing another water bottle from the table and twisting the cap open just to distract myself.

"Umm… I just have a little attraction towards her," I muttered.

"Oh my god. Look at him hiding his eyes!" Adya squealed. "Agastya bhai, you were right—he's in love!" she added as the two of them started jumping around in celebration.

"Wait!" I snapped, and they froze in the mid celebration, looking at me expectantly.

"I told you—it's just an attraction! A little feeling, that's it! How the hell did you two jump to love already?"

"Because, Bhai," Adya said, with a hint of smile, "it's written all over your damn face."

"And your actions speak louder than your half-assed words, mate," Agastya added.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling in my chest. "But I don't even know if it's love! What if it's just some temporary pull? Some stupid hormonal mess?"

Adya pulled a chair, sat in front of me, and gently took my hands. "Okay, calm down, Bhai. Let me ask you a few questions. Answer honestly, and you'll know whether it’s love or just a crush, alright?"

I gave a small nod.

"Alright, first question—when you first saw her, did the world slow down? And the violin and piano started playing in the background?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"What kind of dumbass question is that? No!" I scoffed.

"Okay, okay," she giggled while Agastya was trying to control his laugh. "Second—when you were with her did you feel like sometimes your heart is beating too fast, and sometimes too slow?"

Now that one hits. When her lips touched mine, it felt like my heart might actually explode, and when she rested her head on my shoulder it forgot how to beat entirely.

"Yes."

"Oh!" she grinned. "Next—did seeing her cry break something inside you? Did you want to stay close enough to wipe her tears away yourself?"

"Yes."

"Alright. When you were dropping her home, did the thought cross your mind—'I wish this ride never ends'?" My eyes widened.

"Yes... I did think that. But how the hell do you know all this?" I asked my sister.

She grinned, "because I'm your love guru, Bhai. Duh." She winked.

"Last question—if you got the chance to meet her again, under the same circumstances would you take it?"

"Of course."

She leaned back, hands in the air like she just cracked a mystery.

"Then the case closed. What you've got, Bhai, isn't just attraction—it's love."

I'm in love with her. That's how it feels like to be in love, huh? Love isn't peaceful then, it's more chaos wrapped in butterflies.

"He's in love, but one-sided. I feel sad for my mate." Agastya muttered with a sigh as he sat down beside us.

"Oh, wait—I totally forgot to ask! Who is she? What does she look like? And why was she looking for Bhai?" Adya's curiosity bubbled over.

"She's a journalist. Her name was Ishika—Ishika Kholi," Agastya explained, throwing a glance at me. "She came looking for Sarthak for an interview. But your lovely brother here? He snapped at her—almost shouted at her, and refused the damn interview. You should've seen her face, Adya… it was heartbreaking."

His words hit like a punch straight to my guilt.

"Was I too cold?" I asked hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"OF COURSE YOU WERE!" Agastya burst out, throwing his hands up like it was too obvious.

"What did you do, bhai?” Adya glared. "Now what kind of impression would that leave on her? Bichari ko daant diya apne!" She scolded, and the guilt hit me harder than before.

[You scolded the poor girl.]

"Well tell me more, how does she looked like?" Adya perked up with a teasing grin. "I wanna know who this girl is who took my brother's attention."

"She's beautiful," I murmured, the image of her face playing on a loop in my mind. "Very beautiful actually."

"Oh god," Adya groaned. "My brother's already gone soft."

Agastya joined in, laughing. "He is whipped actually."

"Well, we don't have her photo with us, bas ye hai," he muttered, holding up his screen. The photo that had already gone viral was open—the one where I was shielding her face with my jacket. Her features weren’t visible at all.

[We only have this.]

"Wait that skirt looks familiar," Adya said, narrowing her eyes as she zoomed in on the image. "Wait, bhai, what was her name again?"

"Ishika. Why?" I replied, confused. Something definitely clicked in her head because she didn't say a word, she just got up from her seat, and ran inside the house.

Agastya glanced at me, eyebrows raised. "What's up with her?"

"I don't know. Did she get her periods or something?" I shrugged.

A few moments later, Adya stormed back again, a card clutched in her hands."I know how she looks!"

"Wait, how?" Agastya asked, visibly intrigued now.

"Sarthak bhai, remember I told you I went out of Delhi for that one brand shoot?" she said, catching her breath.

"I remember. I also remember telling you to take Karan with you, but you didn't listen and went alone," I snapped. She's the only family I've got left, and this damn world isn't safe for women alone.

"Bhai, please," she cut me off. "Can you not scold me for once and just listen?"

I sighed and gave her a small nod.

"So yesterday, during the shoot, I stopped at a public restroom to fix my hair and makeup. That's where I met her, Ishika. Her skirt got stained, and I offered her mine. She was so polite, bhai—like, genuinely kind and sweet. Even though she clearly needed help, she hesitated to accept it. She just kept thanking me over and over."

It was obvious now, that she found it hard to accept help. The kind of girl who'd suffer in silence rather than ask for anything.

"And before leaving, she gave me her card," Adya said, grinning as she held it out. "She said she'd contact me to return the skirt. I never thought I'd meet my brother's love interest before him!"

"Wait—Sarthak, that means you can contact her too!" Agastya blurted, eyes widened.

I gave him a flat stare. "Phone karke kya bolunga? Ki meri chhoti behen ki skirt wapas kar do?"

[What do I say on the phone? Please return my baby sister’s skirt?]

"Well, we need a reason for you to talk to her," Adya said, glancing between us. And that's when Agastya's brain kicked in, which meant trouble.

"She came to convince you for an interview, didn't she?" he said, a spark in his eyes. "So why not just agree? Use that as an excuse to talk to her."

Didn't I just say? Every time Agastya thinks it is always a disastrous idea.

"Great idea, Agastya bhai! Not bad at all," Adya clapped. He smugly tapped his own shoulder like a damn genius. These two are a menace.

I rolled my eyes and stood before, snatching the card from their hands. "I'll think about it. Now, Adya—go get your beauty sleep. And you," I pointed at Agastya, "get out of my house, and sleep into your new apartment."

"Goodnight, guys. I need a shower."

As I walked off, Bhatt's voice echoed, "At least tell us how you’re gonna approach her!" I ignored him and keep strolling in.

The moment I stepped in, three familiar tails were already wagging behind me. Ryker, Havoc, and Riot—my three dogs trailed behind me.

"Did my boys eat?" I bent down, to pat their heads. They panted and wagged their tails in response.

"Of course, Adya can never eat first without feeding you guys right.So when I'm away, be nice to her, alright? Don't trouble her too much. Now it's time for your dad to have his dinner, yeah?"

Ryker and Havoc are German Shepherds, and Riot was a golden retriever followed me into the kitchen. I quickly heated some dinner, and tossed together a bowl of mixed veggies, dal, with a couple of chapatis, and made my way upstairs.

When I got to my bedroom door, I turned around. The boys stood still, tails wagging in unison but not stepping forward. Waiting for me to get in first.

"Boys, I'm about to call someone very special. Someone who might can end up being your future mom. So, can I get some privacy tonight?"

They tilted their heads, stared at me for a second, then silently turned and trotted to their room. They are smart.

I shut the door with a soft push of my foot, placed the dinner tray on the nightstand with her visiting card on the side, and took off my black tee before heading to the shower.

As the cold water poured over my body from the showerhead, only one question kept circling in my head. If I contacted her what would I even say? I kept thinking of a reason, but nothing came to mind.

That damn question stayed with me as I finished my shower and pulled on a grey sweatpant, leaving my upper body bare. It's just how I feel comfortable in my own space.

I stepped back into my room and ate dinner alone, in silence. That's how it's always been when I'm not out there playing cricket—dull, empty, and lonely. It's been like this for over 15 years. Maybe it's better this way. At least silence doesn't disappoint.

After I was done with the dinner, I lay back on my bed, holding her card up in the air, staring.

Should I listen to Agastya and Adya? Should I actually agree to this interview?

My gaze drifted away from the card and up to the mirrored ceiling. And just like that, the past came rushing back.

"Did your dad say anything before he ran away?" Camera flashes exploded around me—just a nine-year-old kid clutching his baby sister in his arms, surrounded by reporters.

"Did your mother commit suicide because your father murdered his elder brother and ran away with his money?"

"Why did your mother abandon you two?"

They just kept asking and asking... and I? I just cried. Too scared to speak. Too broken to fight back.

"You're the children of a killer." That's what they said.

No… I can't agree with this interview.

But it's been years. People have moved on, Sarthak. You've built a name for yourself now. I'm not that scared, silent boy anymore. I have my own identity.

I sighed, and sat up in bed, grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand, and finished it in one go.

Before I could change my mind, I picked up my phone and typed in the number from her visiting card. The phone rang and rang, but she didn't pick it up.

Should I try again? She must be busy. But what's the harm in trying one more time?

I called her again, and this time she picked after two rings.

"Hello? Ishika speaking. Who is this?" Her voice came from the other side of the phone.

My heartbeat surged, making me forget everything I had planned to say.

"Hey. This is Sarthak. Sarthak Singh." I said before I tried to calm myself.

"Oh. Yes Mr. Sarthak. How may I help you?" She asked.

"You mentioned about an interview the other day. I am interested." I speak out.

"YOU WHAT?" She almost shouted as if it was hard to believe. I heard a kitten meowing near her.

"I mean, what did you just say?" She asked me to repeat it again.

"I said I am interested in the interview. I am free this week. Please coordinate with my manager and schedule it." I speak.

"Oh—of course! Thank you so much for accepting the interview, Mr Sarthak." A sudden smile creeps at my lips at her words.

"Anything for you Ms Ishika." I said as fire took over my face.

"Umm...what?" She asked. Then I realised what I actually said. Shit! Sarthak calm down and keep a control on your mouth.

"Nothing." I said it out quickly. "It's late. Good night Ms. Ishika?"

"Good night. I'll reach out to

your manager soon." She said, and the call ended.

I lay on the bed again, smiling, staring at my reflection in the mirror on the ceiling.

For the first time this mirror had seen me smile like a fool.

I have this feeling that maybe agreeing to the interview won't be that bad after all.

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