Chapter 8: A New Beginning

Half a month later, Arjun signed with Mumbai Titans. He transferred the remaining five lakh, plus an extra lakh, to my account.

I stared at the message from the bank, the numbers almost mocking. Money as apology—classic move.

Rumours spread throughout the scene: Mumbai Titans had paid a fortune to sign both Arjun and Priya. Their relationship wasn’t public, but in e-sports, it was an open secret.

It was the talk of every club, every WhatsApp group, every dusty café where fans gathered to watch streams. Even the chaiwallah at our gate had an opinion.

[Did you see how in sync the leads were during practice? Incredible! Just joined Mumbai Titans and already crushed their old team.]

[They’re both starting in the autumn split—I’m losing it! E-sports’ ultimate power couple!]

[What about the doosri ladki’s team? LOL. Without Arjun, they probably won’t even make playoffs.]

The barrage was relentless, but I’d stopped caring. The world would talk, and I would work.

As the barrage scrolled by, I was watching Shikhar train with the first team.

Shikhar’s hands flew over the keyboard, sweat beading on his brow. The others watched in awe, some already accepting him as their new anchor.

In just a month, he’d made huge strides. Since Arjun left, the jungle position had been empty.

Coach Sameer had wanted the old marksman to try jungling, but after several failed attempts, it was clear it wouldn’t work.

The poor guy tried, but the synergy wasn’t there. Some things can’t be forced.

So when I suggested Shikhar try for the first team, he didn’t object anymore.

"Alright."

His voice was gruff, but I could see hope in his eyes.

When Shikhar put up another stellar performance, I raised my eyebrow at Sameer.

He grinned, a rare expression from the usually stern coach. I could tell he was impressed.

He thought for a moment. "He’s good. I was worried about putting a rookie at such a core position, but now I think I was overthinking it. Let’s put him in the starting lineup for the autumn split."

With skill and awareness, synergy is just a matter of time. Besides, after Arjun left, the rest of the team was flexible and easy to work with.

The atmosphere in the club shifted—lighter, more hopeful. It felt like a fresh monsoon breeze after months of heat.

Not far away, Shikhar was discussing supper plans with his teammates after practice. He turned and looked at me, still smiling.

His grin was wide, almost childlike. For a moment, I saw the beginning of something beautiful.

I couldn’t help but smile back encouragingly.

Sameer noticed, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes.

He cleared his throat, voice softer than usual. I could tell he was remembering Arjun too.

"No wonder you’re so invested in Shikhar. He deserves your effort."

"But Ritu, aren’t you worried? Back then, you supported Arjun just as much—begged me three times for him. Aren’t you afraid Shikhar will turn out like Arjun…"

My smile froze. I shook my head.

I paused, considering his words. But I knew the answer deep down.

"I’m not afraid."

Back then, when the famous all-rounder Sameer retired, countless clubs wanted him as coach—including DFC. I spent three months visiting him, begging him to watch Arjun play two scrims.

I remembered waiting outside his house, box of sweets in hand, my best salwar on. I had to convince him—no matter how many times he said no.

That summer afternoon, he sighed and agreed.

The heat, the sticky air, the taste of victory on my tongue. I never gave up—not then, not now.

Sameer said Arjun wasn’t the most talented, but he valued our club’s sincerity and drive. He believed we could go far.

It was never just about talent—it was about heart. That’s what kept us alive.