Wish we were 28... still (A RohiRat Fanfiction)

A terrified middleman

Virat sat on one of the swings of the park in Rohit's complex for a pretty long time after the latter left. If he'd expected fighting with Rohit would make him feel better, he'd been wrong. He felt sadder than ever.

Mostly because apparently not only could Rohit betray him without batting an eyelash, he could also act the victim. Like he was at the receiving end. Like he was hurt.

What did he have to be hurt?

God. Fake people in this world would drive him insane one of these days. Fake people in the BCCI, fake people inside his team, fake people posing as his best friend. And...

And then, gradually, Virat's rankling sense of anger redirected itself towards the other person who'd obviously had some idea of what was going to happen, and must have been the first person to receive the mail along with Rohit, and hadn't bothered to speak to him either.

______________

Unlike Rohit, Rahul's first instinct when Virat's call came was not 'please send him away.'

Feeling undiluted relief that he'd chosen to call at all, he received the call quickly, almost dropping the phone in the process.

"Virat? How're you?"

"How d'you think I'm supposed to be?" demanded Virat.

Rahul felt chilled at the cold tone.

"Not--not great, obviously," he said.

"THEN WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING?"

Rahul almost dropped the phone again, his heart sinking.

"I'm just--" he said, and he knew he sounded every bit as terrified as he felt. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Now you care? Now you care?" snarled Virat. "Without bothering to give me a heads up about what was going on, without bothering to--"

"Heads up about what?" asked Rahul. "How-how long have you known?"

"Oh, let's see. An hour before the announcement? An hour and a half at best?"

A horrified Rahul needed a whole minute to process that.

"I thought you had known," he said in a small voice. "I mean, I assumed...I didn't imagine--"

"All right, suppose I had known!" shouted Virat. "Does that mean you'll--does that make it--what--what the hell were you doing all these hours?"

"I'm so sorry, Virat," said Rahul, feeling wretched. "I'm so sorry--"

"What. Were. You. DOING!"

"I slept off--I called Rohit when I saw the mail, he said--"

"Oh my god," said Virat, hysteria rising in his voice. "Oh, my god."

"Virat?"

"No," said Virat. "No, my bad. Continue whatever suits you both."

The line clicked off.

"Virat--?"

Rahul stared at his phone in disbelief.

Virat had never, never hung up on him. Ever. It couldn't be real.

Mechanically, he called Virat's number. It rang on for a few seconds before it connected.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, WILL YOU STOP CALLING ME!" Virat's voice cracked in the end.

Rahul screwed up his courage to say firmly, "No."

Virat breathed hoarsely on the other end, but did not hang up. Rahul didn't like how relieved that made him feel.

"Where are you?" he asked.