Shubman hadn't been in a restaurant this upscale since… well, since before everything. Since before Yash. And even then, it never felt quite so hollow.
The chandeliers glittered like they had something to prove. The violinist in the corner bowed with too much flourish. And everyone around him looked like they belonged there. Everyone except him.
He stirred the drink in front of him, watching the lemon slice swim aimlessly around the ice.
Across the table, Dr. Rhea, the newly appointed sports physiologist, was dabbing her lips gently with a napkin.
“So, is this where you give me your five-year plan?” she asked, light teasing in her voice.
Shubman looked up. Blinked once. “Sorry?”
She chuckled. “Blind date protocol, right? Career goals, deepest regrets, whether we want children or a dog.”
He smiled, tired but genuine. “Well, if it helps, I have no five-year plan. I can barely make it past next month’s series.”
She tilted her head. “You don’t look like the disorganized type.”
“I’m not,” he said honestly. “But recently, everything that used to make sense doesn’t anymore.”
There was a pause. A soft kind of silence. Rhea was smart enough not to press.
Instead, she nodded. “That makes two of us.”q
****
Back in the hotel room an hour before, he’d stared at the invitation message his mother sent like it was a challenge. Her words had been sweet, hopeful
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— just go for dinner, beta. She's lovely, a doctor like Papa. No pressure.
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****
He’d said yes before he could change his mind.
Not because he wanted to.
But because his mind had become a cage, and he was desperate for air.
Across town, Yashasvi didn’t expect the night to feel like this.
He had come out to dinner after working out for just 5mins as he couldn't stop thinking about shubhman all dressed up. He went with Ishan, Siraj, and Sanju mostly because saying no would’ve raised questions.
“Bro, let’s just eat somewhere chill,” Ishan had said. “No pressure. No fans. Just biryani and bad jokes.”
Yash had nodded. He needed distraction. And the team had been winning, the press loving him again. That empty space in his chest? Manageable.
Until he walked into the restaurant.
Until he saw him. Again
Shubman.
Across the room.
In white.
Hair neat.
Smiling.
Not at him.
At her.
Yash didn’t blink at first.
He just froze, air sucked out of his lungs, a tightness settling behind his ribs.
He hadn’t seen that face up close in half a year. Not like this. Not across a candle-lit table.
The girl was laughing softly. Rhea, wasn’t it? The new sports doc?
YOU ARE READING
Not In The Script...
RomanceIt was supposed to be fake. But the jealousy felt a little too real. When a staged romance between Shubman Gill and Yashasvi Jaiswal explodes across headlines, they're forced to play along. But as the lines blur, feelings twist into something neithe...
