When Shubman Gill, India's cricket sensation, meets the Radhika Sharma, their worlds collide in an unexpected twist of fate. Radhika, the protected sister of captain Rohit Sharma, has lived a life of anonymity, known only to a trusted circle. Howeve...
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What is this?
What kind of person thinks it's okay to wake up their best friend at 5 in the morning, drag them out of bed like a ragdoll, and haul them to Worli as if they're on a mission to save the world?
Well, if you ask Shubman, that person is Ishan, who somehow has enough energy at this ungodly hour to be wide awake, while Shubman's still trying to figure out if this is real life or a bad dream.
Shubman blinks rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but all he can see is the back of Ishan's head and the blur of the floor beneath him.
Ishan is pulling him by the hand, walking in front of him, and the only sound is of his slippers against the tiles.
He vaguely remembers something about going to bed early last night, but that plan clearly went out the window the moment Ishan barged into his room, armed with an enthusiasm that should be illegal at this hour.
He wants to protest, to ask what could possibly be so urgent that it requires dragging him out of bed like a sack of potatoes, but his mouth refuses to cooperate.
Instead, he lets out a groan that's half complaint, half surrender. Ishan, of course, doesn't even turn around; he just keeps marching forward, a man on a mission, while Shubman contemplates the various ways he might get back at him for this later.
Perhaps something involving a bucket of cold water and an alarm set for 4 AM—revenge is a dish best served early, after all.
Getting into the lift, Shubman decides to lean against the cold wall of the lift in the luxury apartment building and lets his head fall back, closing his eyes in a last-ditch effort to cling to the remnants of sleep.
The lift's gentle hum is almost soothing, a lullaby he didn't ask for but desperately needs.
Only to get smacked by Ishan, jolting him awake with a solid thwack to the shoulder. Shubman's eyes fly open, his dream of drifting back into sleep shattered, and he glares at Ishan, who is already glaring at him.
"Yahan meri fatti padi hai, ki Rohit bhai ne itne gusse mein tujhe kyu bulaya, aur tu hai ki so raha hai?" [Here I am, stressed out about why Rohit Bhai called you in such anger, and you're sleeping?] Ishan hisses, like a black cat that's just had its tail stepped on.
Shubman blinks, trying to process the words through the haze of sleep that still clings to his brain. Rohit bhai. Gussa. Bulaya.
The words float around in his head like puzzle pieces that refuse to fit together. He rubs his eyes, not sure if he's more irritated by the rude awakening or by the fact that he still doesn't have a clue why they're here.
"Sachi, sachi bata Shubi, kya kiya tune?" [Seriously, Shubi, what did you do?] Ishan's voice is a low hiss and his adorable face is scrunched up in worry, the kind of look that Shubman has only seen during an important match or when he has a fight with Aditi.
