When he was pacing in the terrace, taking great strides to reach one end from the other repeatedly, repeating inside his head, It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter...

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his trance.

"It's freezing out here, Shreyas," said Rohit.

"I don't care," said Shreyas. "You go and celebrate your victory. I don't care if it's freezing. I don't give a damn about whether it's freezing or not."

"I do," said Rohit simply. "And so should you, since you're leaving for Australia in a couple of days. Trust me, you do not want to board the flight with a running nose during the time of the pandemic. All the pretty air hostesses will shy away from you."

Shreyas stopped himself from smiling just in time. He would not smile in front of the captain of the team who had just defeated his in a final, who had won the Man of the Match; he would not let him make him smile.

"Come on, Shreyas, don't be a stubborn idiot," said Rohit, tugging his arm and leading him into the mumty room.

"I don't want to talk to you," said Shreyas directly. "Is that so hard to understand?"

"No, it's easy, because I understand what you're feeling right now," said Rohit, apparently not offended in the least.

"No, Rohit bhaiya," said Shreyas, putting as much contempt into the 'bhaiya' as he could. "You don't. You became the captain of a floundering, trophy-less team midseason, too, and you won that year. And two years later. And again two years later. And..."

Rohit's lips twitched.

Shreyas caught it and glowered at him.

"Sorry," said Rohit, straightening his face. "Continue."

"I don't want to talk to you!" cried Shreyas, feeling that if he could be rude enough to the one who had defeated them, maybe the hollow feeling of failure inside him would go away. "I don't want to."

"I'm sorry," said Rohit.

"Oh? Because you played well? You expect me to believe that?" said Sheyas derisively. "If you could go back in time you'll not play well, isn't it?"

"I'm not sorry because I played well. I'm sorry because me playing well had to hurt you."

"Huh!" snorted Shreyas. "You haven't even lost a single one-four titles...already..." Now Shreyas was going incoherent as he thought about how fucking unfair the world was that MI, who had already won FOUR titles, had to win yet another and leave DC trophy-less. "What would you know about losing a final, what would you know about whether it hurts or not..."

"I've lost two finals, three semi-finals in my life, Shreyas, not counting the under-19 one," said Rohit quietly. "And I would give up all five of the IPL titles to have won one of them. So don't tell me I don't know about how much losing a final hurts."

All the fight went out of Shreyas as he heard that tone of Rohit's, leaving him feeling empty and fearfully ashamed of himself.

He had lost an IPL final, and was yelling at the man who had taken India alone to the semis in probably the last World Cup he'd played and lost.

He had lost a mere IPL final and was yelling at the man, who had said one day, only half-jokingly, during a round of truth and dare that he still had nightmares about Jaddu's brave knock at times.

He had lost a stupid IPL final and was yelling at his elder brother, who had left his team's celebrations come to check on him.

"Rohit bhaiya, I-" Shreyas let go the tears he had been holding back ever since MI hit the winning shot.

Rohit took him by the shoulders and let him cry himself out in his arms.

"I do understand, Yas," said Rohit, gently, almost tenderly. "which is why I don't want you to be hurting all by yourself on the terrace and catch the death of cold."

"I'm sorry for what I said, Rohit bhaiya...I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't think before..."

"You idiot," said Rohit. "I'm not hurt by anything you say in this state...you should hear what Virat and I regularly shout at each other when India's losing..."

That successfully drew out a reluctant smile from the sobbing boy.

"Want to get a hot chocolate?" asked Rohit, seeing that his sobs had subsided a little.

"No," said Shreyas. "I don't."

Rohit had been expecting that, so making sure not to smile, he pulled Shreyas down to sit beside him.

"I could tell you it's going to be easier next time, but I won't. Because losing a knockout match after having done everything right in the whole tournament is never going to be ok. But I will tell you that you'll forget this in a few months; maybe not forget, but the memory will sort of dim down till you feel only wistful while thinking about it...now downright...empty."

"You felt empty too, when...?"

"Everyone feels empty when they've just lost a match like that," said Rohit. He turned to meet Shreyas' eyes. "We're playing a sport that gives much heartbreak, Yas, and is going to keep breaking your heart till the end of your career...unless you're very lucky..."

Shreyas detected something like bitter regret in Rohit bhaiya's voice.

"...and though it'll feel like it's going to break you every time, you can't break. You can't, ok?"

"Oh," said Shreyas. "Yeah...ok..."

"I'm sorry I had to do this to your team today, and at the same time, I'm not. 'Cause this prepares you for the real world, Shreyas...I know I'm not making much sense to you, you probably want to strangle me, but I speak from experience, so you can trust my word on this."

The strange thing was, Rohit bhaiya's pragmatic viewpoint of this loss 'preparing him for the real world' and 'you can't let it break you' felt kind of comforting.

More comforting than the 'you'll be ok' and 'I'm with you', the kind his family and friends had been messaging him all evening.

Till Rohit bhaiya put a warm arm around him and said, "I'm here for you, Yas, whatever you're doing."

Then the 'I'm with you' felt nice, too.

At that moment, Shreyas thought Rohit bhaiya could say anything and he'd feel it was right.

"I know, Rohit bhaiya," said Shreyas, and sneezed violently.

"There," said Rohit with heavy irony. "As I said, no air hostess is going to come near you day after tomorrow."

"Turns out I don't care," said Shreyas, rolling his eyes.

Rohit smiled, glad to hear his brash tone back.

His brother hadn't broken at the first challenge cricket threw at him. He knew he wouldn't break at the future heartbreaks, either.

But Rohit still hoped Shreyas wouldn't have to face any more, at all...that he might fall among the few 'lucky' ones.