Sandcastles | A Virat Kohli Fanfiction

05 • the stalking

Virat's POV

I squeezed a quarter of lemon in my cup of green tea when Bunty stepped out of the bathroom, humming wrong lyrics of an English song, drying his wet hair.

The day had been so hectic and tiresome - with an inaugration, an ad shoot, a facebook live, a delayed flight to Bangalore and traffic-driven jam to our hotel, The Taj West End - that calling it Sunday would have been an offence in itself.

Bunty landed on the couch across me, letting out a sigh. I reached out to my phone which was still on flight mode.
Turning it off I dialled Bunty because I hadn't pissed him off properly for two whole days, which is quite unhealthy for me.

His phone rang -
neend churaayi meri,
kisne o sanam... tune, tune.

"I know that's you, Virat. Stop it!" he deadpanned.

"Ugh, but how?" I asked, confused.

"That song - this ringtone, it's specially for your calls because chain churaya mera, kisne o sanam?"

"Maine!" I shouted matching the tone and rolled my eyes at him.

"Aww, my baby looks so cute when he gets mad, hayyee!"

"Sorry, I am straight."
He often flirted with me openly. Not because he was interested but because he thought I am not doing good with my single life and might sink into depression if not petted like that.

"I was just being a little bromantic."

I did not reply further because 1) the word 'bromantic' reminded me of the word 'romantic' 2) which reminded me of the previous day with Kavya and 3) so I started reminiscing about her.

"Kaha kho gaye?" Bunty said, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Um, nothing.
I mean, actually I met a girl yesterday."

I told him all the day's happenings - right from the coffee shop to the ice-cream caravan to the sunset and from the surreal life talks to the peculiar connection that we shared - while he listened with subtle interest.

When I was done with my narrative, he only said this -
"I hope you asked for her number before leaving."

And I realised how right Bunty was every time he told me I was dumb!

"Shit, no! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Well, do it now."

Then he left me alone for the rest of the evening. I had a light meal which consisted of soup and salad of some kind.

After supper I went to roam about in the corridor where AB and Yuzi joined me. We had random small talks over the US Open, Bangalore's traffic and a video game which Yuzi boasted of having mastered in last two days.
I wished them good night and departed to my room and I did not realize, until I fell on my bed, that I had been continuously smiling all my way till here without any reason. Nor did I reckon that glimpses of HER blazed in my head throughout and that something was not okay with my heart. Or maybe, finally, things were getting better with my heart.

When I woke up the next day, we were summoned to our net session. An important match awaited us the following day, for which we had to sweat hard in the nets.

We had fielding drills prior to that and a bit of football warm-up. To my and everyone else's surprise, Danielle and her kids had accompanied AB.

After having faced some spins from Negi in the nets, AB joined his family on the other side of the field. All four of them dressed in the RCB jersey - all smiles and all love.

The older of the juniors swung his little bat in the air, imitating his father, while his dad and mum watched him from a distance, seated on the grass.

AB then gently pecked his wife on top of her head, holding her closer. That sight pushed my heart into believing that, what Dani is to AB, is what Kavya is to me - happiness.

On our way back to hotel in bus, I thought of ways to procure Kavya's number somehow. Maybe not with the intention of actually calling her but just for the sake of having access to her.

She didn't even know my name until I had told her myself. And on top of it, I had been silly enough forgetting to acquaint her with my professional accomplishments and whereabouts. She had all the reasons to forget me in a day or two. But I couldn't afford being forgotten. Not by her at least.

Later that afternoon, I googled Thanks A Latte Coffee Shop, South Goa.
I scrolled through the whole lot of visitors' reviews and soon discovered a familiar name,
| Kavya Vohra • vkavya4@gmail.com |
who had uploaded a thread of café interiors on the site.

Having found her email address gave me the kind of satisfaction similar to that of hitting a coverdrive on the sixth ball of an over in power play.

I went ahead to compose the mail, unsure of what to type - or, for that matter, whether to type anything at the first place.