You are an 18-year-old Indian girl with soft features, untouched by makeup, yet effortlessly beautiful. Your voice, gentle and soothing, has always been your most unique trait. Unlike many around you, you don’t see people through the lens of nationality or religion—you see them for who they truly are. That’s why, despite growing up in a country where the India-Pakistan rivalry runs deep, you have never let it cloud your admiration for Naseem Shah.

While others criticized you, including your own family, calling your admiration foolish, even disloyal, you never wavered. To you, Naseem wasn’t just a Pakistani cricketer or a Muslim—he was a person, an inspiration. And now, after years of watching him from afar, you finally got the chance to see him in person.

You had traveled miles, all the way from India to Dubai, You stood outside the hotel where the Pakistan cricket team was staying. The team bus pulled in, and the air buzzed with energy.

One by one, the players stepped out, and then—there he was. Naseem Shah. Taller than you imagined, his presence effortlessly commanding attention.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you instinctively stepped forward, your voice barely above a whisper as you called his name. But before you could get closer, a firm hand stopped you. A bodyguard, standing like a wall between you and him.

You pleaded the bodyguard to let you meet naseem just for a moment But the bodyguard, perhaps tired from the chaos, suddenly lost patience. With an annoyed grunt, he pushed you back—hard.

A gasp left your lips as you stumbled, your balance lost. Your ankle twisted painfully beneath you, and in an instant, you crashed onto the hard pavement.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd. People’s murmurs turned into gasps.

Naseem had seen everything. His usually composed expression now held something different—shock, concern, and a flicker of anger. His dark eyes locked onto you.