Broken Records

Downpour Of Hyderabad - I

"My room."

Rohit Bhai bids their coaches a good night and signalls Shubh to follow him.

They leave and Siraj feels the ball of anxiety explode in his gut.

He knows, logically he knows nothing bad will happen.

He knows what kind of person Rohit Bhai is, but he still can't help but panic.

The Shubhman he befriended three years ago would have finished two plates of Naan and butter chicken in just a few minutes.

He would have brushed off a bad day and cracked stupid jokes filled with bad innuendos until they all had no choice but to laugh.

The shubhman in front of him hasn't made eye contact with him or anyone since he entered their dining space.

He doesn't know what to make of it.

It feels like his friend never came back from the field, as if he got lost somewhere, and a stranger wearing his face replaced him.

Siraj sighs and rubs his face.
It's almost 10 pm and he's starting to feel drowsy.

He bids everyone good night and heads upstairs.

He stops in front of Rohit Bhai's room.

The locked door feels out of place.

He presses his head against the door and tries straining his ears to catch something.

When nothing comes, he has to resist the urge to slam his hands on the door.

Just as he's given up and about to turn away, he spots Yashasvi standing at the Corridor's entrance.

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Shubhman wants to run away.

He wants to jump out of the window beside him, run as fast as he can and never look back.

Rohit Bhai looks... He has no idea.

He's been sitting on the couch for the past twenty minutes, watching Rohit Bhai scroll and type on his phone without sparing him a single look.

The bowl of Gulab Jamuns that he was handed after entering the room othe room is starting lose its heat.

Rohit Bhai doesn't Look.... angry.

But he can't tell.
He can't remember a time when someone else was singled out during dinner and then dragged into their captain's room.

But then again, he also can't remember a time when someone as useless as him was allowed to play so many matches despite the continued failure.

Everything has a first time, he supposes.

"Why are you not eating?"

He feels his body flinch; he tries, really tries to control his reactions but he can't.

"Not hungry. "

That felt rude.
Was that rude?
Should he say sorry?

He has no idea. He has no idea of most things nowadays.

Rohit Bhai gets up, plugs his phone to its charger and places it on his bedside table.

Then he sits back on his bed crosses his arms and looks straight at him.

He wants to run away.

He can't hold his gaze. He can't look at him and face the disappointment that will be reflected back.

Why am I so pathetic?

"Shubh..."

He feels goosebumps break out on his skin.
His hands feel cold and clammy.

He wants to shove them into his hoodie's pockets.

That will look rude.

His eyes are burning. His throat is burning.

"Get up. "

He looks up.

"Come here. "

Rohit Bhai shifts and pats the empty space beside him on the bed.

He moves towards the bedside table first to place the bowl on it but-

"Give That here."

He hands over the bowl, sits on the bed and mentally prays to every God he knows of to help him not have a breakdown in front of his captain.

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Stay tuned for the convo... It'll be worth it ❣️(hopefully).

What do you think yash and siraj are Upto? 👀

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