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Author's POV-
(Flashback starts - Arjun is 12 years old)
The rain fell like needles-sharp, cold, and relentless.
Puddles formed on the cracked cement pitch, washing away chalk-drawn boundaries and the last shred of sunlight.
But Arjun Rathee didn't flinch. At twelve, he was scrawny, knobby-kneed, with the determined eyes of someone who had been told "no" too many times.
The bat in his hands was barely holding together.
Layers of masking tape bound the splintered wood, and each swing felt like a silent prayer that it wouldn't snap in half.
"Just quit, Arjun," one of the older boys sneered, balancing the ball in his hand with casual arrogance. "You get bowled every time."
Arjun's fingers tightened around the bat handle. His palms were damp-not from rain, but nerves.
The boys on the other team laughed. He knew the odds. He always did.
But something inside him burned, a small flame that had nothing to do with pride and everything to do with not wanting to be forgotten.
"Before I give up," he muttered, almost to himself, "I'll hit at least one century."
They rolled their eyes. The bowler ran up.
Time slowed.
His heart thundered like the rain against the tin roof of his school. He swung-
Crack.
The sound echoed.
The taped-up bat held on by a miracle, and the ball flew-soared, even-over the wall, vanishing into the sky.
And just like that, for one fleeting moment, the world believed in Arjun Rathee.
(Flashback ends)
Present Day - On a Train to Lucknow
The train rumbled forward, cutting through yellow fields and sleepy villages.
Arjun sat by the window, duffel bag tucked between his legs, headphones in but no music playing.
He didn't need a playlist.
His thoughts were loud enough.
His first state-level call-up.
YOU ARE READING
The Right Wrong Number✨
Romance❝ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔'𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 - 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒈𝒍𝒚. ❞ ••• Sometimes love doesn't knock on the right door. Sometimes it slips in through a misdial, a l...
