sonaakshiiee
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- Parts 6
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐒
In the world of cricket, fame came easy to men like Shubman Gill.
Pretty smiles. Expensive watches. Headlines filled with rumors, scandals, and another woman linked to his name every other week. The nation called him cricket's golden boy, talented, charming, dangerously addictive to watch both on and off the field.
And Shubman wore that reputation like a crown.
Then there was Shreyas Iyer.
Disciplined. Focused. Untouchable.
The kind of cricketer coaches trusted, seniors respected, and fans admired from a distance because men like him didn't let people get too close. He believed in hard work, control, and never letting emotions interfere with the game.
Which was exactly why he could never stand Shubman Gill.
At least that's what the media thought.
Because years ago, before the cold stares, passive aggressive interviews, and dressing room tension, they had actually been friends. Rivals from opposite teams who somehow still found comfort in each other between packed schedules, exhausting tours, and the suffocating pressure of being India's future.
Until cricket ruined it, or maybe ambition did.
The captaincy race turned ugly, selection politics made it worse.
One position. Two egos. Endless comparisons.
And suddenly every conversation became a competition. Every handshake became forced. Every match between them felt less like cricket and more like war.
The media loved it.
Fans turned their rivalry into entertainment.
Cameras captured every glare, every sarcastic comment, every moment of visible irritation between India's two biggest stars.
What nobody saw, was the tension that lingered a little too long.
The way anger started feeling dangerously close to obsession.
The way hatred burned hotter than it should.
Because enemies weren't supposed to look at each other like that.
And they definitely weren't supposed to want the one person determined to destroy him.