The Bond ❤️❤️

Shreyrat

Shreyas felt a sharp pang of loneliness as he scrolled through his phone, each swipe revealing another image or video of Virat bhaiya laughing and having the time of his life with the younger players. There was an ease and camaraderie in those photos, a sense of connection that seemed so natural. Shreyas couldn’t help but feel a bitter twinge in his chest each time he saw the smiling faces of Shubman, Ishan, Yashaswi, and Rishabh, all clustered around Virat as if they had been lifelong friends. The bond they shared was evident in every frame, in every playful jab, in every beaming grin.

But as Shreyas continued to scroll, his own presence was conspicuously absent. No matter how far back he went, no matter how many accounts he searched, there were no edits of him with Virat. It was as if he had been erased from the narrative, like he didn’t exist in those moments that seemed so precious to everyone else. All he found were baseless rumors, articles speculating about supposed rifts between him and Virat bhaiya. They were ridiculous, of course, and yet, each headline, each baseless accusation felt like another nail in the coffin of his confidence.

“Why are there no edits of me and Vi bhai?” Shreyas thought bitterly, his heart sinking further with each passing moment. “I’ve been here, too. I’ve stood beside him in matches, shared the same dressing room, fought the same battles on the field. Why does it feel like no one sees that? Like no one remembers?”

Shreyas’ thumb hovered over a particularly cheerful photo of Virat with the others. They were laughing about something, their faces full of joy, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders. The picture was perfect, the kind of image that would be liked and shared thousands of times, that would cement the idea of an unbreakable bond between Virat and his “favorite” younger players. Shreyas couldn’t help the jealousy that bubbled up inside him, twisting his insides like a knot that refused to be undone.

“They all get to be in these pictures, these moments,” he mused, a bitter edge creeping into his thoughts. “But where am I? Where’s my place in all of this?”

The more he thought about it, the more the jealousy grew, morphing into something almost childish, something that made him want to stomp his feet in frustration. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to be in those photos, wanted to be the one standing next to Virat, sharing in those private jokes, those special moments. But it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he was always on the outside looking in, always the one left behind.

Deciding he couldn’t just sit around feeling sorry for himself, Shreyas tossed his phone aside and got up. His heart was heavy, weighed down by the unspoken fears and insecurities that had been festering for far too long. He knew he couldn’t let these feelings consume him, couldn’t let them drive a wedge between him and Virat. He needed to talk to him, to ask if they could spend some time together, just the two of them. Maybe that would help, maybe that would ease the gnawing ache inside him.

With that resolve, Shreyas left his room, his footsteps quiet as he made his way down the corridor. The house was mostly still, the early evening light casting long shadows across the floor. He spotted Virat up ahead, his back turned as he rummaged through a bag. Shreyas felt a flicker of hope—this was his chance.

He approached cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. “Vi bhaiya…”

Before Shreyas could say anything more, Rishabh suddenly appeared from nowhere, a whirlwind of energy as he bounded down the hallway. Without so much as a second thought, Rishabh threw his arms around Virat, a grin splitting his face as he claimed his attention entirely.