Chapter 9: Ready for Battle

The mood grew heavy. I looked out the window and changed the subject.

The city skyline was smeared with gold and purple. I needed a distraction, something to break the heaviness.

"Mumbai Titans’ backer is an entertainment company, right?"

Sameer’s eyebrows shot up. He nodded, knowing where this was going.

"Yeah, their boss, Gaurav Yadav, is the CEO of Starline Entertainment. The company went big into e-sports last year."

I lowered my head. This past half month, rumours about Arjun and Priya trended every few days. Mumbai Titans was hyping them up, using Priya as the league’s first female pro as a marketing hook.

Everywhere I looked—Twitter, Insta, Facebook—there they were: the league’s new golden couple. The world loves a good story.

[Did you watch last night’s stream? Arjun sent Priya a mountain of gifts, and they duo-queued all night!]

[Yeah, tonight’s ranked night—Arjun’s helping her climb to national rank.]

[So much love for the female lead! I remember when the doosri ladki asked the male lead to help her rank her support account, he said he was too busy with training. The difference between love and not-love is huge.]

I was speechless.

Some things are too cruel to laugh at, too ridiculous to cry over. I just let it be.

It’s been half a month since the breakup—why does the barrage still drag me out as a backdrop?

My role as the villainess, the one holding back the hero. They wouldn’t let me leave in peace.

[LOL, why bring up the doosri ladki? Focus on the leads!]

[By the way, aren’t Arjun and Priya in talks for that e-sports reality show?]

The gossip was endless. I felt like the ex everyone keeps mentioning at shaadis, even when you’re not in the room.

I knew about that. Starline Entertainment was planning an e-sports variety show called "Battle at the Summit."

It was all over the trade mags. The kind of thing that can make or break reputations overnight.

My dad had business with Starline before. He said Gaurav Yadav cared about marketing above all—he’d burn out his own artists for the sake of exposure.

"He’ll run them ragged, beta," Dad had said. "You watch."

"The autumn split is next month."

"Sameer, I’ll need you to lead the starting lineup for now."

He nodded, understanding the gravity. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Okay."

"But the team’s still gelling. If results aren’t great this split, keep your expectations in check."

It was my way of saying—we’ll take it slow. No pressure, no drama.

Sameer gave me a meaningful look. I knew—everything takes time.

He understood. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was a championship team.