♡ Chapter - 8 ♡

Start from the beginning
                                        


Author's POV-

(Back at BCCI HQ)

One selector opened Twitter, stared at the #ArjunRatheeForIndiaA hashtag climbing trends.

"Which one? There's like fifty."

"The one who just hit 100 not out with the footwork of Kohli and the calm of Dhoni."

"Ah. That Rathee."

Selectors sipped their third round of chai, heads bent over stat sheets and highlight reels. One of them muttered:

"Let's just give the kid a call," he muttered. "Before the internet elects him Prime Minister."

"If we don't give this boy a shot soon, Twitter's going to riot and DM our grandkids." Replied another.

And then?

Laughter.

But someone did quietly type out a name in the "Potential India A Call-ups" email.

And with that, Arjun Rathee's fate quietly changed course.

Meanwhile...

Mira's brain was having the time of it's life.

Ahmm ahmm- "Breakdown"

She had rewatched his six that brought up the century seven times.

Okay, nine.

Fine-twelve, but only because the slo-mo angle made his batting look like poetry dipped in sweat.

She flopped onto her bed, phone on her face, scrolling through memes she made to distract herself:

Meme 1:

Caption: "When you pretend to hate cricket but your met-2-days-ago-stranger-wala-crush? drops a century and suddenly you're an ESPN analyst."

Image: A raccoon with binoculars.

Meme 2:

Caption: "Me watching Arjun from the crowd like a supportive ghost."

Image: Transparent SpongeBob floating.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Right Wrong Number✨Where stories live. Discover now