Abhinav lay curled on the cold floor of the jail cell, one arm beneath his head, the other across his stomach. His designer blazer had long slipped off his shoulders and was now bunched under him like a poor man’s pillow. His breath came in shallow drags, and the pounding in his skull reminded him he hadn’t sobered up yet.
The concrete was rough. The silence around him wasn’t peaceful—it was suffocating.
He didn’t look like the Abhinav people knew—no crisp shirts, no confident smile, no camera flashes. Just a broken boy in a stained shirt, trying not to cry in front of strangers.
“This can’t be real...” he murmured to no one.
Everything had fallen apart so fast. One minute he was speeding down the highway, music blaring, thinking he could handle a few drinks. The next, flashing lights, handcuffs, blood on his lip, and humiliation.
But what hurt more than the bruises... was the silence from his brother.
No calls. No messages. No one came.
His elder brother had always cleaned up his messes. From broken windows to failed exams to late-night fights at clubs—“Bhai will handle it,” he used to say, with a grin.
But not this time.
Abhinav turned his face to the wall, pressing his forehead against it.
“I messed up, Bhai,” he whispered.
He never wanted to be a disappointment. But it was always there—that feeling. That no matter what he did, he would never be like him.
His brother was respected, feared even. Built an empire from scratch. Ran a company with steel nerves and eyes that could cut lies. Meanwhile, Abhinav was good at charming crowds, looking good in suits, and playing the spoiled prince in a palace he didn’t build.
He hated that people called him a "younger version" of his brother. He hated it because deep down, he knew he wasn’t even close.
He didn’t want to be a burden anymore. But somehow, he always ended up being one.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the iron bars.
Abhinav jerked up, heart racing.
A police officer stood there. Behind him, a tall figure in a black coat, face hidden in shadows.
It was him.
His brother.
For a second, Abhinav froze. He wanted to run into his arms like when they were kids. But he didn’t move. His body felt too heavy with shame.
The officer unlocked the cell, stepped aside.
“You’re out,” his brother said. Voice flat. Cold. Not angry—worse. Disappointed.
Abhinav looked up slowly.
“I didn’t call anyone... I didn’t think you’d come,” he said quietly.
His brother didn’t reply. Just turned and started walking.
Abhinav followed.
As they exited the building, reporters yelled from a distance. Cameras flashed. But the guards kept them away.
Inside the car, silence ruled.
Only when the doors closed did his brother speak.
“You’re not a child anymore, Abhinav.”
Abhinav stared at the floor.
“I know.”
A long pause.
“One more mess like this... and I won’t come next time.”
Abhinav nodded.
But in his heart, something cracked. Because he realized—for the first time in his life—that his brother didn’t just see him as a foolish kid anymore.
He saw him as a threat to everything he built.
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