“You can't possibly expect them to bend the rules for you, Kishan.” The coach spoke with a tight-lipped smile, returning to his journal, where he was always scribbling down Test stats of the national team. If only the old codger paid more attention to the college team instead, they could have made it to the playoffs last season. Ishan hated himself for hoping anyone took the cricket club seriously here. If it weren’t for being in his final year, he might have just waited for the old geezer to retire.
But Ishan needed this, more than ever, because he was going to be there too. He, the one Ishan had been training relentlessly to face. He, the one Ishan was going to defeat if that’s the last thing he did.
Ishan gripped the edge of the table tightly. “Coach, you know how long I've been waiting for this. You said I deserved to be the captain.”
Shastri looked up with an unimpressed look. “Of course you do. But a captain doesn’t make a team, you’re short of three substitutes.”
“The deadline is near, can’t you just send in the names? I’ll try to look for volunteers.”
“And pray tell, what names should i send in place of those three?”
“Um, I don’t know, like. Kartik... Ali... and John?” When Shastri stared at him, he added, “What? It’s diverse.”
“You can’t bring in random people, Kishan.”
“How does it matter? Substitutes don’t play anyway,” Ishan argued.
“Like I said, a captain doesn’t make a team,” Shastri repeated, as if he expected Ishan to clap. “We haven’t had a captain in a long time.” He hummed, working his pen again.
Ishan did not understand this man at all. He wanted to pull out his own hair and burn that goddamned journal. “Coach.”
He didn’t look up. “Three boys, Kishan. Can’t you scout three boys in this whole campus?”
Ishan bit his lip from saying “why the fuck are so you useless?”
“But the deadline-”
“Is in three days. Ah, how convenient. Happy scouting!” the grump said in feign cheer with a wave, ending the conversation. Ishan stomped out of the room. His agitated eyes searched around the field for any boy who looked remotely athletic, but all he could spot were couples. Fuck this place.
He ran into the basketball guys having a practice match. He resisted rolling his eyes at them, the ones all the funds were spent on, leaving little for the cricket club. Ishan moved his gaze towards the benched players, he huffed. Substitutes were substitutes after all.
Wait.
Substitutes were substitutes after all.
So, he could just…
“Oi!” Ishan called out, ignoring the odd looks passed between the other players. The guy blinked, pointing to himself to be sure.
“Yes, you! weird hair!” Ishan waved him over. TILAK, his jersey read.
“I don’t have weird hair,” Tilak muttered as he walked to the sidelines, reaching for his hair consciously. “Um, hi?”
Ishan did not intend to beat around the bush. “You ever played cricket?”
“Played, yes. Play, no,” Tilak replied, sensing the predicament he was about to be in.
Ishan nodded. “We can fix that. Come on, you’re in the team.”
He wheeled around on his feet, walking off. Tilak followed him with wide eyes. “Wait, what? No, I can’t.”
“You will.”
“This is forcing!”
Ishan shot him a frown. “And?”
“And- and you can’t force me! I’m a basketball player, you know? I haven't touched a bat since high school.”
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to play. Just stay in the dugout.”
Tilak scoffed, feeling a little offended. “Then what’s the point if I’m not playing?”
Ishan paused, turning to him. He wondered if the guy was nuts to think Ishan would pick someone random for the lineup. The cricket club wasn’t that doomed yet. “Well, you’re not playing now either.”
He thought Tilak might clock him at any moment, knowing he was being a bit of a jerk to the younger guy. Ishan hated seniors like himself. Yet, Tilak didn’t seem to offer any retorts. Instead, he just sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “You don’t hold back, do you?”
Ishan offered a small smile. “I promise we’re more fun than those guys, who got height for a personality.”
Tilak snorted. “Is that your only pitch?”
“I think you were sold the moment I rescued you from there. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be following me,” Ishan remarked.
Tilak let out a dry laugh. “You’re quite the observer.”
“I'm a wicketkeeper.”
“I know.”
“You do?” Ishan raised an eyebrow.
“There have been talks, Ishan bhaiya,” Tilak said, rubbing his neck.
Ishan tilted his head with a guarded expression. “And?”
Tilak grinned. “And I think you're cool as fuck .”
“Oh, I’ll show you cool,” Ishan chuckled, tousling his hair. “Let's go, we've got some hunting to do.”
The next target of Ishan's scouting was a member of the chess club. He was too timid to push back and simply shook his head when Ishan posed, “You won't refuse me, will you?”
He hit a snag though, when he couldn’t find a third. When he swung by the basketball club again, Ishan’s buddy, who was the captain, gave him the boot. They had a big game coming up, and Tilak was cut loose because, “He doesn’t really fit in here anyway.”
Ishan furrowed his brows, thinking hard. He found himself heading to Coach’s office again. He mentally snorted when he saw the man playing poker on his computer.
“You better start drafting that email because I’m short of only one guy now,” he stated, drawing the oldie’s attention from his screen.
“Two, actually.”
“No, I got-”
“Your all-rounder bailed.”
“WHAT?”
Shastri barely batted an eyelash. “He’s down with diarrhoea.”
“WHAT?”
“Diarrhoea. The one where they shit too much or something.”
Ishan slumped heavily into the chair, feeling his head throb. “I think I’m going to pass out.” He fumbled with his words before saying, “He might recover before the tournament.”
“It will still take him a long time to regain his immunity and get back in form.”
With each word, Ishan felt the trophy slipping further from his grasp. He couldn't allow that. No way.
“Forfeit?” Shastri asked with a blank expression.
Ishan stared at him in disbelief. “You want us to forfeit?” His voice came out softer than he intended.
“No. I’m just asking what I should.”
Ishan clenched his fists. “We might have struggled to win matches when it mattered but we never backed out. That’s what cowards do, not losers.”
Ishan was too mad to notice the satisfied glint in Shastri’s eyes. He fumed, “I’ve tried every year, every year, so hard for this team. Can’t you help me for once? You’re my coach, fucking act like it! We can make it to the state if we win this time, you know it.”
Shastri seemed to remain unfazed. “Do you need me to tell you that I believe in you?”
“N-No.” Ishan chided himself for stuttering. “I believe in myself just fine.”
“Then do you want me to find you the perfect fit? You want it readymade?”
Ishan bit the inside of his cheek. “No, but-”
Shastri smiled, it’s one of those rare times the man smiled. “Then you are their captain, fucking act like it.” He said without any bitterness in his voice whatsoever.
Ishan frowned. He really did not get this man. “What should I do?”
Shastri sighed. “Find your goddamn all-rounder, Kishan. What else is there to do except trying?”
It was the most straightforward solution, one that anyone would have thought of. But Ishan always dwelled too much on plans, and when things didn’t go according to plan, he couldn’t see anything beyond.
He looked at Coach, who was already back on his game of poker. He was losing terribly. “The show must go on,” he hummed idly, not intent on paying Ishan anymore attention.
“I told him to cut down on the Pav Bhaaji,” Surya said with a shrug, as he licked a strip on his popsicle.
“I’m going to kick his ass if he comes to watch us play,” Siraj grumbled.
Ishan paced around the shed, mentally tracing potential candidates. There were few people who were passionate about the cricket league because their college had never made it past the semis in history.
“They probably don’t have to scrounge for players in Meridian, huh?” Rishabh muttered, much to Ishan’s annoyance.
“You’ll stop overestimating them when we beat their asses in the finals,” Ishan retorted.
Rishabh shrugged. “If we play at all.”
Ishan clenched his jaw. “We will.”
Mayank sprawled out under the shed with his limbs splayed, as he glanced up at his friends. “I still don’t get it, why did you turn down Meridian to be in this lame crib?”
“YOU TURNED DOWN MERIDIAN?” Tilak exclaimed, earning a funny look from Rishabh. He cleared his throat, adding, “I mean, I know boys who’d chop off their dicks to get in there. It’s like the holy grail of sports uni around here.”
Ishan rolled his eyes and grunted out, “They are a bunch of stuck-up snobs.”
“Swag hai apne bhai ka.” Rishabh laughed, nudging Ishan playfully.
Surya blinked. “Well, you’d have had two trophies by now at least.”
Ishan scoffed. “And play under him? No way.”
“Under who?” Tilak asked.
Rishabh grinned, feeling the need to delve into Ishan’s infamous lore for the newbie. “Shubman Gill, the captain of Meridian’s Cricket team. Ishan’s most passionate rival, the man that wakes him up in the middle of nights, gasping with cold sweat-”
“Shut it,” Ishan interrupted sharply, swatting at Rishabh’s head with a scowl.
Tilak’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as he turned to Mayank, eager for more. Mayank smirked. “He’s like the prince of college cricket. Got promoted to captaincy in his second year after he rocked it in the first, where his massive knock took them to the finals. Won the league twice with him leading. Now he's itching for that hat-trick win this year.”
Ishan shot his best friend a glare, his scowl deepening. "Whose side are you on?"
“What? I'm just stating the facts. Sportsmanship,” Mayank shrugged innocently.
Ishan hated to admit it but Mayank was right. Shubman was indeed at the peak of his game. And Ishan's burning desire to crush him was stronger than ever.
“He’s not getting the hat-trick,” he announced boldly.
Rishabh nodded knowingly, while Mayank couldn’t help but let out a snort of agreement.
“Unless we can’t find players, then he is,” Siraj quipped.
Ishan turned to them with a deep breath. “Guys, let’s be optimistic and think it through, alright? You know how bad I want this. I... I need this.”
Surya sat up straight, careful not to sound too sympathetic. “We know. But summer break is nearing and half of the boys have moved home, so it will be hard. Just in case-”
“No, Surya. I’ve done everything against my pride to be here today. So that I can prove myself. So that I can beat him. I’m not going down without a fight.”
“Um, I might have an idea,” the chess guy spoke. Ishan forgot to ask his name in all the rush.
Ishan’s head snapped towards him. He knew better than to rely on someone who had probably never looked up from a chess board, but hope was a terrible thing. “Really?”
The guy rubbed his neck awkwardly. “It might be a reach but here goes nothing. Meridian’s Vice-Captain transferred to another Uni last year, I don’t know how the word didn’t spread but-”
It took Ishan a moment to process the information but he couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped his lips when he did. “Abhishek?!”
“Yeah?”
Ishan stilled at the sound of that voice. He spun around abruptly, as a reflex, and he wished he didn’t.
Abhishek Sharma stood there, about seven yards away. He shouldn't have been. It was a summer afternoon on a weekend, they never had visitors on the weekend. But there he was, looking exactly as he did on the last day of high school, catching Ishan off guard.
Ishan would have called him, hugged him, perhaps even apologize for abandoning him after the petty fight three years ago. He would have been a good friend. If he was not there too.
Shubman Gill, standing beside Abhishek with his pupils dilating as they landed on Ishan’s familiar face.
Ishan wanted to kill him.
As if on cue, a wide smirk replaced Shubman’s shock, the dimple on his left cheek deepening. He brought his hand up in a wave. “Is it me or have you grown shorter, darling?”
Ishan wanted to kill himself.
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
a/n: do we like the vibes or no? 😼🤘
i don’t know shit about college leagues ok shut up i’ll make it all up. also, i feel like my writing style changed a bit idk. anyways, i’ll update fake love once i remember what was the original plot lol.