The house was in absolute chaos.
Vivaan zoomed through the hallway like a rocket, cricket bat in one hand, helmet hanging off his arm, and half his shirt untucked. "Bhaiyaaa! Today is the day! My biggg match!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the apartment.
On the dining table sat Reyansh, laptop open, papers stacked neatly on one side, phone glued to his ear. His sharp suit jacket was tossed carelessly over the chair, sleeves rolled up as he typed furiously.
"No, Mr. Mehta, listen carefully," Reyansh said in his clipped CEO tone. "We need those numbers by 11 a.m. sharp or the deal won't—"
"BHAAIIIYAAA! Guess how many sixes I'll hit today?!" Vivaan interrupted, swinging the bat so close to Reyansh's chair that the CEO nearly ducked mid-call.
Reyansh pinched the bridge of his nose, muting the call for a second. "Vivaan. One more stunt like that and I'll confiscate that bat before your match even starts."
Vivaan gasped dramatically. "Confiscate? Bhaiyaa, this isn't a bat, this is my Excalibur! My magic wand! My—"
Reyansh unmuted the call. "Yes, Mr. Mehta, sorry, minor… disturbance." His eyes shot daggers at his little brother, who was now balancing the helmet on his head backward.
Vivaan strutted around like a soldier. "See? Full ready. My team needs me. I'm the star player. Without me, they're zero!"
Reyansh typed another email with lightning speed, barely glancing up. "It's a children's match, Vivaan. Not the World Cup."
Vivaan froze, clutching his chest as though stabbed. "Children's match?! Bhaiyaa, excuse me—it's the Junior Premier League. Respect required!"
Reyansh raised an eyebrow. "Junior Premier League? Last week you called it 'gully cricket with uniforms.'"
Vivaan waved his hand dismissively. "That was practice. Today is official." He hopped onto the sofa, pretending to commentate: "And here comes Vivaan Sharmaaa! The crowd goes wild—wahhhhhh!" He clapped his own hands, then nearly toppled over.
Reyansh finally closed his laptop halfway, glaring. "If you break that sofa, you'll sit on the floor for a month."
Vivaan plopped down beside him, leaning on his arm. "You know what'll actually break? My heart. Because my dearest bhaiyaa is not even coming to cheer me."
Reyansh smirked faintly, going back to typing. "Cheering is unnecessary. Just don't embarrass yourself in front of your teammates."
Vivaan made a face. "Embarrass? Bhaiyaa, please. I'm going to hit fours and sixes. I'll become man of the match, and when I get the trophy, I'll say—" He puffed out his chest and put on a fake serious voice, imitating Reyansh. "All credit goes to my ruthless CEO brother who was too busy with spreadsheets to watch me bat."
Reyansh actually chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "You're impossible."
Vivaan grinned, mission accomplished. He jumped up, grabbed his kit bag, and yelled dramatically, "When I return with victory, remember this day, Bhaiyaa!"
The front door slammed as Vivaan dashed out, leaving Reyansh staring at his half-finished email.
"That's it for this chapter! 😄 I hope you enjoyed Vivaan's chaos and Reyansh's patience. Do comment your thoughts—suggestions, feedback, or even fun title ideas are most welcome. Your support motivates me to write more!"