first greets and last meets

bonus: ICT (part I)

1.5k on this orange app, & 500+ views on ao3, you guys have made my week without even knowing. 

Thank you so much for the love and support y'all are showering this fic with. i genuinely wasn't expecting this much appreciation, so thank you again.

here is (a part of) the surprise i had in mind for this occasion. 

I wouldn't say much about this, except that this might or might not be a preview of how the book 2 of this series will go.

other than that, enjoy reading!!!!

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January 2019

Shubman had a goal. To play international cricket in the Indian Cricket Team.

For everyone around him, it was a dream. A dream they were working towards, a dream they would like to fulfil, one day. But having a dream and having a goal were two entirely different things and no one knew it better than him.

He had been eleven years old, a quiet, shy kid with a cheeky side reserved only for his family, when his father had first introduced him to all the notable players of their state's cricket team. There were names in abundance in that list and Shubman had felt pretty confident, despite being so young, that his name was going to be in that list too one day. 

His father had cracked a fond smile, before shaking his head. "Only players who actually play internationally get their names there, Shub. You think you're gonna make it that big one day?"

Little Shubman had puffed out his chest and said in the deepest voice he could muster at that age, "Of course, dad. It's my dream to make it big." He pointedly looked at the list of names displayed in front of him and declared, "Just like them." 

His father had crouched to this level then, what with little Shubman's height not taking the hint of puberty and growing exponentially at that point yet, and ruffled his hair adoringly, "Make it a goal, son. Dreams are just fragments of our wants; goals are pieces of our realities."

This matter-of-fact statement had changed little Shub's perception for good that day, and amongst the long list of things he's grateful to his father for, this definitely stands in the top five.

Point of the matter, hence, is that Shubman had a goal. To make it big. To represent his country and his state internationally. To play cricket as though his life depended on it, literally.

"Mr. Gill, looks like we finally have a deal, yeah?" The managers and lawyers of Team India were sitting in front of him. 

Well, not exactly in front of him, it wasn't physically possible yet for technology to make that happen. Except, there was a laptop in front of him, and it had been there the entire time he had been in the room, connecting him from Mumbai to the admin staff of Team India currently in Australia. His lawyer and manager were sitting on either side of him, both busy replying to the personnel that had just addressed him regarding the deal. 

Shubman glanced at the clock to his right, the clock that kept ticking for the entire twenty three minutes (he was so counting) it had taken to start, discuss and conclude this meeting, the clock that had just witnessed one of the youngest and current most promising domestic players get signed by Team India for the upcoming international series. The clock that had just witnessed a nineteen year old Shubman signing the contract that had been the focus of his goal ever since he was eleven.

It had been an oddly summer-esque day in January when Shubman finally signed the contract to play in Team India for the ODI and T20I series against New Zealand, starting later that month.