In This Together

The vice captain's press conference

He went and pulled open the cupboard and to his horror, found it empty.

Where was Virat?

Bhuvi rushed out of the room blindly, calling Virat on his phone.

"The dialled number is either switched off or not reachable--"

Bhuvi cut the call fiercely, his heart pounding hard. He found himself outside Rohit's room and banged on the door.

"ROHIT! ROHIT! PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!"

Even in his sleep, Rohit must have recognised the desperation in Bhuvi's voice, because he opened the door quickly.

"What's wrong, Bhuvi?"

"Virat's not in the hotel. All his things are gone--and his phone is switched off--"

Rohit froze.

Shikhar appeared from the next room and saw Rohit and Bhuvi's terrified expressions and asked anxiously, "What happened?"

Bhuvi repeated it to Shikhar and the three of them called everyone to the common room immediately.

Well, two of them, because Rohit seemed unable to think straight.

"There was something bothering him yesterday," said Rohit numbly after everyone was gathered together. "I knew we should've pressed him harder to tell us."

Rohit both looked and sounded extremely close to tears, and Jinks knew that he couldn't stop thinking of their fight last night.

The kids were all looking so scared and teary that Jaddu said with his usual forced cheerfulness, "We'll hunt him down. Let's leave right now. He can't have gone very far without anyone knowing--he's Virat Kohli, after all."

One of their staff looked in.

"Where's Virat? The media are waiting for the press conference!"

"Oh God," groaned Rohit. "He had that conference today, too!"

"You go, Ro," said Ash. "Just give short answers and conclude it, but don't ignore it."

Everyone agreed, and Shikhar said, "We'd better take a few things if we need to travel a bit."

They rushed to their rooms and packed whatever they could and met outside the hotel in less that 5 minutes.

The conference was set in the lawn of the hotel, and as Rohit stood up straight and was walking to the centre, his phone beeped.

It was an unknown number.

"I'm sorry I couldn't warn you, Ro, but I know you'll make India proud."

Was it Virat? wondered Rohit. And what did it mean, anyway?

He didn't have time to ponder about that, however, and as he sat down on the podium, he was preparing to face the question, "Where's the captain?"

Instead, the first thing told to him was, "Oh congrats, Rohit, you've already taken up the reigns!"

"What?" said Rohit, trying to spot who had spoken.

"NDTV congratulates you for becoming Indian captain, Rohit!"

"So does ABP Ananda!"

Indian captain?

The ICT standing nearby were all frozen in shock and confusion.

"I'm sorry," said Rohit at last. "What do you guys mean? Far as I know, I'm the vice captain, not the captain."

"You don't know?" asked the nearest reporter.

Rohit just looked confused.

"Virat Kohli has been confirmed of match fixing. He sold India in the semi final earlier this year. We're glad he's been sacked, Rohit. We need someone like you at the top now."

Rohit felt the colour draining out of his face.

"Match fixing?" he whispered.

"Yes, and it has all been proven. That's why Virat has fled, hasn't he? That's why you're alone!"

Rohit looked so white at that point that Jassi pushed forward and shouted, "Rohit bhaiya is not here alone!"

"Jassi, no!" said Bhuvi, but it was too late, because the reporters were already turning to Jassi.

"Not at all, not at all. His team is here with him. But one of them is missing, right?" said a particularly malicious one. "As he's not here with the team, it means he has accepted that he's guilty and he has run for it, right?"

Jassi shrank back, horrified that he had made it worse.

"WILL YOU SHUT UP?" shouted Rohit, suddenly losing his mind completely. "Virat would never sell India, not in a million years, not for anything he got in return! Whatever you're saying are disrespectful, disgusting untruths, and trust me, I'll show you one day what happens when you try to defame any of our teammates like this."

"Rohit--" said Jinks in despair, but Rohit didn't hear him.

He alighted from the podium, snatched the reporter's mic and hurled it to the ground before storming up to his team.

"Let's leave this darned place this instant," he muttered furiously.

The ICT marched out of the hotel gates and down the streets, a collective bunch of fuming individuals, and no one tried to stop them.