The rhythmic thwack of leather meeting willow echoed across the practice ground, mingling with the occasional cheer from teammates. But Ruhaan Sharma wasn’t himself today. His usually sharp focus was nowhere to be found. Shot after shot went wide, his timing off, and his footwork sluggish. 

From the sidelines, Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma exchanged a glance. Ruhaan, their typically unshakable young star, was visibly distracted, his jaw tight and his shoulders tense. 

“Yeh ladka aaj bilkul alag lag raha hai,” Rohit muttered, arms crossed as he watched Ruhaan swing and miss again. 

Virat frowned, his sharp eyes following Ruhaan as he trudged back to grab a drink of water. “Something’s definitely up. Let’s talk to him.” 

The two walked over to where Ruhaan stood, gulping water as though trying to drown his worries. He sensed their approach and braced himself, knowing they wouldn’t let him off easily. 

“Ruhaan,” Virat started, his voice calm but firm. “Sab theek hai na?” 

Ruhaan nodded quickly, avoiding their eyes. “Haan, sab theek hai, bhai,” he mumbled, the words unconvincing even to his own ears. 

Rohit scoffed, his voice tinged with brotherly teasing but laced with concern. “Bhai, ab tu mujhe bhi jhooth bolega? Bata kya chal raha hai.” 

Ruhaan swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the water. “Kuch nahi, Rohit bhai. Bas…thoda tired lag raha hai,” he said, stammering slightly. 

Virat raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of mild irritation. “Don’t give me that. You’re off today, and we can all see it. Ab sach sach bol, kya problem hai?” 

Ruhaan sighed heavily, realizing there was no escaping this. He set the bottle down, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s…complicated,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Complicated kya?” Rohit pressed, leaning closer. “Bata na, maybe we can help.” 

Ruhaan hesitated for a long moment, his eyes darting around as though to make sure no one else could hear. Finally, he exhaled sharply and spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush. 

“Vivek Agarwal,” he began, his voice low, “met me a few days ago. He said…he said I should start dating his daughter, Ria.” 

Virat and Rohit exchanged a glance, confusion flickering across their faces. “And?” Virat prompted, his tone cautious. 

Ruhaan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “He said if I don’t, he’ll use his connections to get me removed from the team.” 

The words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them pressing down on all three men. 

For a moment, neither Virat nor Rohit spoke, both of them processing what Ruhaan had just revealed. Then, Rohit let out a sharp exhale, his expression darkening. “Yeh toh hadd ho gayi,” he muttered, anger simmering in his voice. 

Virat’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “He really said that?” 

Ruhaan nodded miserably. “Yes. He didn’t even try to hide it. Just came out and said it, like it was nothing. Like my career is something he can just…control.” 

Rohit placed a comforting hand on Ruhaan’s shoulder. “And what did you say?” 

“I told him I wasn’t interested,” Ruhaan said quietly. “But he didn’t take no for an answer. He just…smirked and said I should think about it. That I have a lot to lose if I don’t.” 

Virat cursed under his breath, pacing a few steps away before turning back to face Ruhaan. “This is blackmail. He can’t do this.” 

Ruhaan shook his head. “Who’s going to stop him, Virat bhai? He’s on the selection committee. He has power. I…I don’t know what to do.” 

Rohit’s expression softened as he looked at the younger man. “You don’t have to handle this alone, Ruhaan. We’ve got your back. Agarwal can’t just throw his weight around and get away with it.” 

“Exactly,” Virat said, his voice steady and commanding. “We’ll figure this out together. No one’s messing with our team, and no one’s messing with you.” 

Ruhaan looked at them, his eyes filled with gratitude and a hint of uncertainty. “But what if he actually follows through? What if…” 

“Don’t think like that,” Rohit cut in firmly. “We’ll handle this. You just focus on your game and let us worry about that sleazebag.” 

Virat nodded in agreement. “You’ve earned your place on this team, Ruhaan. No one can take that away from you, no matter how many ‘connections’ they have.” 

Ruhaan felt a flicker of hope ignite in his chest. For the first time in days, the suffocating weight of Agarwal’s threat felt a little lighter. 

“Thanks, bhaiya,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere. 

Rohit grinned, giving him a light punch on the arm. “Bas yeh yaad rakh—tu hum sabka chhota bhai hai. Hum sab sambhal lenge.” 

Virat smirked. “And next time, don’t keep this kind of thing bottled up. You’re part of a team, Ruhaan. We fight together.” 

Ruhaan managed a small smile, his heart swelling with gratitude. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as alone in this as he had thought.