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Dumped for the Streamer, Reborn as His Boss / Chapter 6: Memories and Movie Nights
Dumped for the Streamer, Reborn as His Boss

Dumped for the Streamer, Reborn as His Boss

Author: Pooja Chopra


Chapter 6: Memories and Movie Nights

Actually, while I was watching the youth and second team tryouts today, the barrage didn’t stop either.

Their voices echoed in my head, relentless as ever, like the endless drone of traffic outside.

They were live-broadcasting Arjun and Priya’s movie date.

I pictured the two of them in a shiny PVR, Priya giggling at the ads, Arjun trying to act cool while fumbling for popcorn.

Arjun had lied to me, saying he was meeting an old classmate. I knew the truth, but didn’t bother exposing him.

What was the point? Some lies reveal more than the truth ever could.

[The female lead’s pink-and-blue anarkali is so cute, she looks like a soft, sweet strawberry cake!]

[Arjun in a white shirt beside her—they’re perfect together. Hurry up and get together already, I want to see some sparks!]

White shirt…

My hand paused as I opened a packet of chips.

Something about that image struck me. White shirts always reminded me of beginnings.

I remembered, back in my second year at the e-sports club, the first time I met Arjun, he was also wearing a white shirt, sitting in the back of the classroom playing Rani Laxmi Bai in-game.

He was hunched over his phone, fingers flying, face set in fierce concentration. The rest of the class was oblivious, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

A crowd had gathered around him, amazed at his flashy moves and silent combos.

Everyone whispered, 'Dekho, yeh kaun hai?' The cool kids were suddenly in awe of the quiet, skinny boy from Nagpur.

"President, president! We’ve got a pro-level fresher! Now we can take on St. Xavier’s!"

Their cheers snapped me out of it.

I felt a sense of pride—like discovering gold in your backyard. For a second, I imagined our team winning it all.

After I nodded, the victory sound rang out. Arjun smiled shyly at me, his ears turning red.

He looked so young then, so full of dreams. That was the first time I felt the spark of possibility—maybe even love.

That must have been the moment he left a deep impression on me.

Some memories cling like the smell of rain on parched earth. I kept that one close, even now.

[Ahhh, their hands touched! Arjun, are you dumb? Hold Priya’s hand already!]

[Wow, Priya’s leaning on his shoulder! This block of wood finally gets it!]

[Ladies, when is the male lead breaking up with the doosri ladki? I can’t wait!]

[Soon, soon. The male lead’s already sure about the female lead—it won’t be long.]

I’d just stepped out of the bathroom, tossing my face towel aside, when I saw this string of barrage.

The towel was damp, the mirror foggy from my shower. I stared at myself for a moment, searching for answers in my own tired eyes.

I winced at the latest comment, thumb hovering over the mute button. For a second, I just wanted to throw my phone out the window.

At the same time, the password lock at the door beeped.

Arjun walked in.

He looked hesitant, his steps slower than usual. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, as if the whole flat was holding its breath.

He looked like he had something to say, fidgeting with his collar as he glanced at me.

He did that thing he always did when nervous—twisting his shirt collar, eyes darting everywhere but at me. Some old habits never change.

Under the dim light, I sat on the sofa, patted the cushion, and the cat jumped onto my lap.

The cat, Munni, purred softly, curling up like a living stress ball. I stroked her absently, drawing comfort from her warmth.

Arjun sat down beside me, hands clasped, head bowed.

He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a viva exam he hadn’t studied for.

After a long hesitation, he finally said, "Ritu, I have something to tell you…"

Of course I knew what he wanted to say.

I smiled to myself. It was almost funny, how predictable it all was.

So I laughed and spoke first:

"Let’s break up, Arjun."

I watched his face, savouring the moment. I wanted to say it first, to be the one in control, just once.

Since, after winning the championship, he couldn’t wait to toss me aside, I wasn’t about to let him have the last word.

No way was I going to let him script my exit from his story. Not when I’d written half of it myself.

[Did the doosri ladki take the wrong medicine? She actually dumped the male lead!]

[Well, that’s good—now she won’t get in the way of the leads anymore.]

[But why does she get to say it? Being with Arjun was already out of her league. How dare she?]

[Honestly, it was the male lead who cheated first. He’s the one who’s trash…]

At least there are some sane voices in the barrage.

I felt a tiny spark of vindication. Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

I came back to myself, looking at Arjun, who seemed stunned.

He blinked, lips parted, caught off-guard. It was rare to see him speechless.

He swallowed whatever he was about to say, composed himself, and replied, "Breaking up is fine."

"But Ritu, can I ask why?"

His voice was small, almost pleading. For a second, I felt a pang of guilt. But it passed quickly.

My hand paused as I stroked the cat. I didn’t answer. Instead, I picked up my phone and tossed it to him.

The phone hit the sofa with a soft thud. The notifications lit up—each one a little dagger.

In the ten minutes before he got home, several trending searches had quietly climbed to the top:

#Arjun relationship#

#Arjun went on a date with Priya after winning#

#Priya didn’t deny their relationship on stream#

#Insider says Arjun is negotiating with Mumbai Titans club#

"Because you cheated. Arjun, you’re a public figure."

My words were calm, but they cut. It was the truth, plain and simple.

"Showing up so publicly with another girl—it can’t be an accident."

My mother always said, 'If you’re going to sin, don’t do it on the main road.' Arjun had made his choice, and now everyone knew.

"So stop pretending. I’m guessing what you wanted to say was break up, right?"

I met his gaze, daring him to deny it.

A moment of silence stretched between us, the weight of the trending hashtags settling like a stone. Somewhere outside, the faint whistle of a pressure cooker rose from a neighbour’s kitchen, a reminder that life marched on, uncaring.

Arjun slowly let go of his shirt. The air carried his woody perfume. He scrolled irritably through his phone, raking his hand through his carefully styled hair.

He ran his fingers through his hair, like he always did when frustrated. I wondered if Priya found that endearing too.

He probably hadn’t expected the leaks to trend so quickly. He’d planned to break up with me first, so when I saw all this later, he wouldn’t look like the heartless one, and could silence me with a ‘we already broke up.’

The chessboard had changed, and he wasn’t prepared.

"Ritu, I just met Priya. This time we went out just as friends."

He said it softly, but the words sounded weak, even to him.

"The reason I want to break up has nothing to do with Priya."

I took a deep breath, lifted the cat off my lap, and set it on the floor.

Munni meowed in protest but settled nearby. I couldn’t hide behind her anymore.

"It doesn’t matter who it’s about anymore."

"Betrayal is betrayal."

My voice trembled just a little. Old pain, new resolve.

Arjun, frustrated: "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

Stubborn?

If I hadn’t seen the barrage, there really weren’t any intimate photos of them out there. He might have gotten away with it.

He didn’t know about the barrage, about the way reality felt like fiction. Maybe he never would.

After a while, seeing my expression hadn’t changed, Arjun said, "Forget it. No matter what I say, you won’t believe me. Here, take this."

He reached into his jacket, hands shaking a little.

I’ll show you. No more side roles. This time, I’ll be the one everyone’s watching.

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