We got your back

The IPL party

SRH and RCB, neither of which had ever won an IPL, battled it out in the final of IPL 2016.

Virat had been in out of this world form that season, and was the leading run-scorer by far. Bhuvi was the leading wicket taker.

SRH put up 208, and RCB reached 200 but couldn't reach the target, and SRH won their first IPL.

After the trophy collection, the award ceremony began.

Virat was looking disappointed and bitter; he had played for the same team for 9 years, and lost 3 finals, but this was the worst, maybe because it had been so close.

Bhuvi stood beside him; they'd soon be called for the Orange and Purple caps. Though Bhuvi felt quite happy at their victory, the look on Virat's face beside him was something he couldn't ignore. They hadn't exchanged a word except Virat's 'congrats' and Bhuvi's 'thanks'.

He wouldn't have wanted to win a final at all if it meant Virat losing, Bhuvi realised.

After some time, when the other awards were being given, Bhuvi tentatively said, "Virat?"

Virat looked at him and smiled. "What?"

"Are you ok?" It sounded so lame to Bhuvi himself.

Virat saw how miserable and conflicted Bhuvi looked and felt quite exasperated.

"Of course I'm ok, Bhuvi," said Virat, taking his arm. "This is nothing compared to some other things we've lost in the last few years! It's just IPL, Bhuvi, what the hell are you looking like that for?"

Bhuvi tried to judge if it was an act, but couldn't decide.

"It sucks so much that the only IPL I win had to end in you losing a final," said Bhuvi grumblingly.

"I can live with it," said Virat, trying not to laugh at his childish complain. "And so can you!"

The Orange Cap winner was announced, and as Virat was walking away, he called, "Stop looking like the world is coming to an end!"

Bhuvi smiled mildly. Virat winked at him.

_________

The after-match party comprised of both the SRH and RCB teams, as was the custom of IPL.

Bhuvi, sitting in a quiet corner, kept a watch on Virat. He was gangham dancing with Chris at the moment, so he seemed to be recovering well.

David Warner, who already seemed a bit tipsy, came and sat beside him. "What are you doing here alone? Come and join us!"

"Thanks but you know I don't drink," said Bhuvi.

"Yeah, but you don't win IPLs every day. Come on, just one glass, mate. It's time to celebrate, don't sit here like a party pooper!" insisted Warner.

"Warny, please, I'm not going to drink," said Bhuvi.

"Huh, you're no fun," scoffed Warner and he went away.

Barely before he had had the chance to feel relieved, Ben Cutting called from the dance floor, "Come over here!"

They were dancing with women... like really random women, maybe cheerleaders, maybe friends of friends... Bhuvi sent a cautionary glance at Virat, and saw, to his satisfaction, that he wasn't anywhere near any woman.

"I can't dance," said Bhuvi. "You carry on."

Bhuvi was sure they didn't catch the subtle sarcasm in his tone, being a fair few shots down.

His eyes found Virat again, and this time he was alone. Bhuvi started to overthink right away, was he feeling sad again? Why would he stand alone? Why was he walking across the dance floor alone?