One balmy night, the Oberoi mansion took on an atmosphere of carefree chaos, fueled by Rudra Singh Oberoi's infamous fruit punch. He had been boasting about its potency, and true to history, it didn't take long for everyone—Shivaay, Anika, Gauri, Bhavya, Om, and Rudra himself—to find themselves slightly (or very) tipsy. The air was thick with laughter, snarky remarks, and the occasional off-key singing, as the group enjoyed their evening in a drunken haze.
Shivaay, ever the one to take things a step too far, was on a mission to impress. With his face flushed from the alcohol and his usual confidence already soaring, he was proclaiming to anyone who would listen, "When I was a kid, I was a champion cyclist. No one could beat me! I could ride a bike like the wind!"
Anika, who was already tipsy but still quick with her retorts, raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Oh, this I have to see. The great Shivaay Singh Oberoi, the legendary cyclist!" she teased, her words slurring slightly but laced with affection. The rest of the group—equally intoxicated—was too entertained by his enthusiasm to stop him.
Rudra, ever the supportive younger brother, was egging Shivaay on. "Go on, Bhaiya! Show them how it's done!" He was leaning against a pillar for support, swaying as he spoke. "I'm sure you can still ride like a pro!"
Shivaay, not one to back down from a challenge, confidently approached the old bike in the garden, wobbling a bit as he mounted it. His arms were stretched out as if trying to recall the motions of a long-forgotten skill. "This is going to be epic!" he declared, his words already thick with alcohol.
Om, Gauri, and Bhavya were in the background, watching the spectacle unfold. Om was chuckling softly, clearly entertained but unsure whether to stop Shivaay from embarrassing himself. Gauri, laughing more at Shivaay's bravado than at the actual idea of him cycling, was leaning on Bhavya, who was already wobbling herself. "This is going to end badly," Gauri muttered through fits of giggles, but it was clear she was enjoying the show.
The moment Shivaay started pedalling, it was immediately obvious he wasn't in control. The bike was swerving wildly, and instead of gliding smoothly, he was jerking from side to side, like a drunken sailor trying to find his balance. His face was set in an exaggerated expression of concentration, though it was apparent that his senses had already left him behind.
"Watch out, Shivaay!" Anika called out, half laughing, half worried. "You're going to crash!"
But Shivaay, who was still talking about his past cycling glory, ignored the warnings. "I've got this, Anika! I was born to ride," he said, his words slurring before his feet slipped off the pedals.
The bike jerked violently to the side, and Shivaay, completely caught off guard, lost his grip. In the blink of an eye, the bike tipped over, sending him sprawling to the ground with a resounding thud. His wrist hit the ground with an awkward twist, and he let out a pained groan as he lay there, stunned by the sudden fall.
Gauri was the first to react, stumbling forward in her attempts to help. "Oh my god, Shivaay Bhaiya, are you okay?" she said, her voice full of concern, though her steps were far from steady. She knelt next to him but immediately lost her balance, almost toppling over him. "I'll call for help! Just... hold on!" she shouted, though it was clear she had no idea what she was doing.
Shivaay groaned again, clutching his wrist. "I think I broke something," he muttered through clenched teeth, though his tone was more annoyed than pained.
Anika, still laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of the situation, walked over, trying to look concerned but failing miserably. "Oh my god, Shivaay, that was supposed to be your grand entrance as the world's best cyclist?!" she teased, though there was a genuine undertone of care in her voice.
