The morning sunlight filtered through the dressing room windows, the air vibrated with anticipation, the scent of hairspray and makeup mingling with the hum of the conversation.

Aditi stood before the mirror, her makeup artist expertly styling her hair into sleek waves. Nehal chatted with her family on the phone, her laughter filling the room.

"Ma'am, can you tighten my ponytail?" Aditi asked, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

She obliged, securing the final strand. "You look great!"

Nehal then handed Aditi a streaming cup of coffee, its aroma filling the room. "For good luck."

Aditi took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her veins. She glanced at the TV, where the pre-match analysis was underway.

Ishan's face appeared on the screen, his focused expression a testament of his dedication. Aditi's heart swelled with pride.

The broadcast cut to the commentary team, their voices buliding excitement for the match.

"And welcome back! Today's clash promises to be epic. RCB is looking strong but MI won't go down without a fight."

As the match unfolded, all three of them watched the match live, their eyes glued to the TV. Ishan was wicketkeeping, focused when suddenly the lights flickered and went out. The live broadcast was cut to a break.

Aditi's makeup artist turned to her and said. "This break is perfect timing, let's get your eyes touched up." But before she could begin, Aditi's phone buzzed with a news alert.

She grabbed her phone and her heart sank as she read the headline: "Ishan Kishan injured by Hardik Pandya's freak throw, taken out of the field."

Her calm facade crumbled, and a mix of emotions swirled inside her. Worry for his condition gripped her, followed by anger toward Hardik Pandya's careless throw. Anticipation for the match ahead simmered beneath the surface.

Aditi then went through the live match on her phone, eyes locked to the screen which was now showing replays of the incident. She felt a lump form in her throat as she watched Ishan clutch his face and walking out of the field. The room around her faded into the background.

The makeup artist noticed Aditi's distress and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "He will be okay. It's just a minor injury."

But Aditi's mind raced with worst case scenarios.

Nehal nodded and said. "We should get updates from the management. Maybe they will release a statement soon."

Aditi's heartbeat raced, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

The lights flickered back to life, and the broadcast returned, dispelling the brief silence. The commentators' voice filled the room. "The team's medical staff is attending to Ishan. We will keep you updated."

Aditi's anxiety spiked. She felt helpless, unable to do anything but watch from afar.

Nehal exchanged concerned glances with the makeup artist before nudging Aditi toward the door. "Come on! Let's get you ready for the rehearsal." She said, holding up Aditi's favourite lipstick.

Aditi hesitated. "I don't know guys. I want to stay updated about his condition. He is one of my best friends after all, why wouldn't I be worried?"

Her makeup artist smiled reassuringly at her. "We will keep an eye on the news. You need to focus, Aditi."

Nehal added. "Besides, Ishan would want you to shine on that stage. Let's go."

Aditi sighed, knowing they both were right. She couldn't change the situation but she could control her performance.

With a deep breath, she nodded. "Let's do this."

As they made their way to the stage, Nehal and the makeup artist chatted about the schedule, trying to distract Aditi from her worries.

Aditi's mind wandered, her thoughts drifted to Ishan's injured face, the way his under eye swelled up, and the what ifs swirling in her head.

Upon reaching the stage, her professional instincts kicked in. She took her position, ran through her line and began to rehearse. But the worry lingered.

-

As the ball rocketed towards Ishan, it struck him just under his eye. The bright stadium lights felt harsh against his injured eye. The medical staff surrounded him, their voices calm yet urgent. They carefully examined the injury, checking for any signs or serious damage. The field fell silent, the cheers of the crowd replaced by a tense stillness as his teammates rushed to him. Their faces were a mixture of shock and concern.

A cool cloth was pressed against his face, providing a momentary relief from the throbbing pain. Ishan could see the guilt in Hardik Pandya's eyes.

Virat Kohli, his opponent for the day's match, known for his aggressive style of play, rushed over with genuine concern. He knelt beside him, his expression shifting from competitive intensity to worry. Ishan, still reeling from the impact, managed a reassuring look, though he could feel the pain radiating from his eye.

Despite his strong desire to play, Ishan was urged to rest by the medical staff. However, he insisted on staying in the game. Despite his protests, the team knew that his health was the top priority.

Reluctantly, he was guided off the field and led to the dressing room for further medical attention. The sounds of the crowd faded, his mind still on the game he loved. As he sat in the dressing room, the gravity of the situation sank in as he realised not wearing a helmet in a high impact sport led it to this risky situation.

Surrounded by the medical staff of the team, Ishan knew that they had their best interests at heart. Despite the disappointment of leaving the game, he understood that sometimes taking care of oneself was the most important play of all.

His eye began to swell, the skin under it turning a deep shade of purple. The staffs carefully cleaned the gash, Ishan wincing with each gentle touch.

"It will take some time to subside," One of them explained. "You will need to apply ice and keep the area elevated."

Ishan nodded, his good eye scanning the medical room. "How bad is it?" He asked, his voice laced with worry.

"The swelling and bruising will be monitored. You will need rest and ice for the whole night." The staff said with a serious tone.

Ishan's anxiety surged as he thought about the impending match, his mind racing with concerns about his team's reliance on him. "What about the match, sir? We need me out there." He urged, voice tinged with desperation.

The medical staff's expression turned firm but compassionate. "Ishan, your health takes precedence, we can't risk further injuries or complications."

Ishan's frustration mounted, his injured eye throbbing in protest, "But we can't lose this match. We need every player we can get."

"We understand the stakes but your well-being is non-negotiable. We have notified the management and Aditya Tare will take your place, he is ready for this opportunity." The staff explained with a calm voice.

Ishan, feeling a pang of disappointment, nodded and acknowledged the decision. He settled into the couch, letting out a deep breath as he focused on his teammates.

"Guys! Don't let my injury distract you," he silently pleaded. "Keep your focus in the game."

The room's silence enveloped him, punctuated only by the hum of the medical equipment.

-

The stadium's atmosphere had fizzled, replaced by disappointment. MI players walked off the field, their faces reflecting the loss.

Despite the defeat, their spirit remained unbroken. They had given their all, leaving everything on the field.

Rohit, however, looked distraught. His usual composure was replaced by concern. He hastened to the dressing room, ignoring the waiting media.

Inside, he made his way to Ishan's room, who lay on the couch, his under eye still swollen.

Rohit's expression softened as he gazed at Ishan's injured face. He went forward and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about the match, you focus on getting better."

Ishan nodded gratefully, feeling a mix of emotions.

But Rohit's tone shifted, his voice firm and laced with sarcasm, "You know, I have told you a million times to wear a helmet. But no, you had to go and be a hero."

Ishan winced, regret etched on his face. "Bhaiya, I know. I made a mistake."

Rohit's grip on Ishan's shoulder tightened. "Mistake? This isn't just a mistake. This is your career, your future on the line."

Ishan's eye throbbed, he looked down and whispered, "Sorry."

Rohit's expression softened but his tone remained stern, "Sorry isn't enough. You need to learn from this. Wear the helmet always, no exceptions."

Before Ishan could say something, Rohit gently said, "See that it doesn't happen again, we need you!"

Ishan met Rohit's gaze, his determination burning within. The weight of his mistake slowly lifted, replaced by a sense of confidence. He saw a glint of belief in Rohit's eye. It was as if saying, "You can bounce back from this."