ENCHANTED, shubman gill

FIFTEEN

"Shubman Gill showcasing pure mastery at the crease! With a century off just 56 balls, he's setting the field ablaze. Culminating in that mighty six off Bhuvneshwar Kumar. A display of skill, determination, and sheer cricketing prowess!"

Anya couldn't contain her excitement. She sprung to her feet, a joyous shriek escaping her lips. The stadium lights seemed to catch her eyes, making them sparkle as she cheered on Shubman. He, acknowledging the roar of the crowd, raised his bat in a triumphant salute.

"You're on the big screen!" Shahneel nudged Anya, her voice barely audible over the din.

Anya's eyes darted to the giant screen above them. There she was, bathed in the glow of the floodlights, her face plastered amongst the cheering crowd. Anya blinked, momentarily disoriented. "What? Why?" she exclaimed, surprised to see herself.

Shahneel shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Because, my dear Anya, the IPL cameramen have a soft spot for pretty ladies in the audience. More so than the actual cricketers, it seems."

Anya's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "What should I do?" she stammered, suddenly self-conscious.

"Blow them a kiss," Shahneel declared, her voice laced with mischief.

And so, with a playful glint in her eye, Anya did just that. A dramatic, flying kiss blew towards the camera onto the screen, eliciting a fit of giggles from both girls. Their amusement was short-lived, however. A gentle but firm, "Girls, sit down," came from Shubman's mother, effectively quashing any further outbursts. Anya and Shahneel exchanged a sheepish grin before settling back into their seats.

The final few overs were a nail-biting affair. Though Shubman fell short of a few runs, his dismissal couldn't dampen the jubilant spirit of the team. They had posted a formidable total, and their bowlers held their nerve, eventually securing victory by a comfortable margin of 35 runs.

The post-match presentation was a blur of flashing cameras. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shubman was able to make his way upstairs to the dressing room. His family was the first to greet him, their warm embraces a welcome balm after the adrenaline rush of the match. Anya, ever patient, waited until the initial flurry of congratulations subsided before stepping forward.

With a playful smile, she wrapped her arms around him. "A century, woah, are you trying to impress me, mister?" she teased.

Shubman chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Are you impressed?"

"Very much," Anya admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

There was a comfortable silence between them suddenly, Shubman pulled back. "Come, you gotta meet Abhishek," he announced.

Anya's brow furrowed slightly. "What about dinner?"

"I'll order room service," Shubman reassured her. "Ma we'll just meet Abhi and come back" he said. His mother all but raised her eyebrow, and simply nodded her assent.

Shubman led Anya towards the other corner of the stadium where a tall, good-looking' man stood talking to another player. "Anya, meet Abhishek," he said, his voice warm with pride. "Abhishek, this is Anya, the friend I was telling you about."

Abhishek turned, a broad grin splitting his face. He extended a hand towards Anya, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "The girl who gets a century dedicated to her? It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Anya."

Anya's cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she shook his hand. "Hi Abhishek, nice to meet you too. Though, I wouldn't say it was dedicated to me exactly."

Abhishek chuckled, a booming laugh that filled the room. "Oh come on, Shubman wouldn't score a hundred every other day, would you?" he teased, throwing a playful jab at his friend.

Shubman groaned theatrically. "Here we go again," he muttered, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He knew Abhishek wouldn't hesitate to pull his leg, especially in front of a pretty girl.

Just as they were getting comfortable, Shubman's phone buzzed violently. He fished it out of his pocket, his smile fading as he glanced at the screen. It was Hardik.

Before they could delve deeper into their friendly banter, Shubman's phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He fished it out, a frown creasing his forehead as he glanced at the screen. It was Hardik, and the caller ID alone promised a colourful conversation.

Shubman answered the call, holding the phone away from his ear slightly as Hardik's booming voice, laced with a healthy dose of Hindi expletives, filled the air. The gist of the conversation was clear – get your ass back on the bus, they needed to leave, and the animosity only extended towards Shubman, not his company. In fact, Hardik, in his own gruff yet endearing way, requested Anya join them and there was no hurry.

Shubman winced as Abhishek raised an eyebrow in amusement, clearly catching the drift of the conversation.

"Alright, alright, Pandya ji," Shubman mumbled, using Hardik's nickname with a hint of mock exasperation. "We're leaving right now."

Shubman hung up, a sheepish grin on his face. "Looks like we have to cut this short," he said to Anya and Abhishek. "Hardik wants to get on the road, let's go, Anya."

Anya, despite the disappointment flickering in her eyes, couldn't help but smile back. "Let's go then," she agreed. "But we ought to tell Hardik Pandya that threatening bodily harm isn't the best way to get people moving."

Abhishek burst into laughter, clapping Shubman on the back. "See Gill, next time you score a century, maybe give your teammate a heads-up before disappearing with a pretty lady, alright? Now come on, slowpoke, before they have to drag you kicking and screaming."

A/N THE STORY IS SET IN 2023, IT'LL MAKE ITS WAY TO 2024 AS IT GOES FURTHER.