"And here I am again on a Friday night, alone at home and no one to go to," he spoke to his walls. Oh, if only walls could talk. "Ryouta, you just have the worst luck with anyone." Single. Again.

He had had a plethora of lovers, male, female, confused types, anyone, but it just never panned out. Ever. The model was beginning to get it set in his head that perhaps he was just going to be one of those guys whom just never was going to settle down. He was going to be a swinger for the rest of natural life. And he was only twenty-two at this point! What a way to go, already choosing the single life at such a young age. He truly felt pathetic.

"To think that I would be able to get anyone I wanted though, honestly," he fell sideways onto his couch and blew at the tendrils of gold that had fallen onto his face- "Though that's probably the problem, isn't it."

And had been for nearly ten years.

No one wanted to get to know Ryouta, no. They wanted to bask in the fame that was Kise Ryouta, the famed, upper echelon model that was known world wide for his perfectly flawless appearance. From middle school on, that was his life. Sure, at first it was a hobby and it had been for a while before certain circumstances prohibited from playing basketball any longer.

It was then—and only then that Kise had taken up modeling full time. With his full focus on it, he quickly got job after job and made his way through high school and didn't even bother with college. Instead, he opted to move to the U.S., where his fame only grew. Before even he knew it, he was living an all too luxurious life.

He had gotten American friends and had hardly kept in touch with friends from high school. There were Momoi and Kuroko, at times. At times. And then there was always the awkward moments when Midorima flew into the U.S. for a doctor thing or whatever. To this day, those two were on semi-bad terms. Midorima didn't like the way Kise lived his life, and Kise didn't like being told how to live his life. Modeling was what he chose and hey, he lived in a nicer place than even Midorima the Doctor did.

"So suck on that," Kise pouted and rubbed his finger along the couch fabric, watching it go from dark to light with each opposing sweep of his finger.

He then sat up.

He was not going to make himself miserable when he was already lonely. Nope. He would...he would go work out. Yes. That was exactly what he needed to clear out his mind. Besides, he was still conscious at bumfuck of the night. Nearly everyone in his building was probably out at some party or social event, so it would be deserted.

Working out it is.

The model stood up from his spot and went to his room to change into his most pathetic of sports clothes—there honestly was no reason to worry about the way he looked—no cameras, no one cared about his fame, and the only way he was allowed to get any guests was if they were on his list that was kept with the receptionist on the first floor. Very, very safe.

Leaving his floor, he made his way into the elevator and made the long ride down.

Lonely.

This was truly lonely.

He—was truly lonely.

And to think that this would be something that he should be used to at this point. He was just destined to be like this.

"That's what you get for working such a dumb job, Ryouta," the blond mumbled to himself as the elevator doors opened and he stepped on through to the now exposed sports activities floor. Dead silent.

Coming onto this floor as opposed to the actual gym was always a stupid choice, of course. It always filled him with nostalgia. They weren't bad memories or anything, no, they just made him miss what he used to have. Fond memories. They reminded him of the sport he truly loved to play more than anything, they reminded him of the friends he had made—not managed to have kept, but hey, at least he had met wonderful people. And then, of course, there was that one guy he never had ever gotten the balls to tell...

No. Nope. He wasn't going to do this to himself. This was the reason he was in the spot he was in right now. He knew that he had forced himself into this rut, and all the annoyance in the world wasn't going to augment his current reality. This he already knew.

"In any case," the model made his way across the floor until he reached the area that had the basketball court. "You're really, really stupid," he scolded himself, pulling open the chainlink door and letting himself in. It was the same old song and dance; he'd grab a ball and walk to the center of the court and practise his shooting. He'd dribble the ball forward-while walking at a leisurely pace, and shoot from there. He'd catch the ball, stand there for a moment and try to dunk-which landed him on a bad ankle that always gave way, and he would end up with a knee against a lacquered floor, along with a few hisses of pain and a select string of curses.

"Ah, ah, that's everyone's favorite idiot," an all too familiar voice rang in his ears as a hand lowered itself to help him off the floor. "Need a hand?"

"Well if it isn't Mister NBA coming here to see us average people," the blond retorted, taking the hand and being helped up. "Tiger."

"You don't need to make everything English, Ryouta," Kagami Taiga sighed aloud as he helped his friend to the only bench around. "And you can't call yourself average, Mister Everybody-wants-me. A superstar model, are you being serious right now?"

"Yeah, but do you have any idea how hard it was to learn?" Kise rolled his eyes and frowned. "I want to keep using it. Maybe one day I won't have this accent," he laughed—pathetically, but it was a laugh. "How bad did I mess it up this time?" He asked, peering down.

"You didn't try so hard this time, so it's hardly even swelling," Kagami replied, model ankle in hand as he inspected for any injury. "Ryou—"

"I know, I know," Kise ran his hands over his face and into his hair. "I know basketball's passed for me, but you don't get it." He placed a hand over his mouth and grumbled against it.

"You're right, I don't, I know. But that doesn't mean you should keep trying." Kagami stood and took a seat next to Kise. "One day you're going to throw that foot of yours agai—"

"Imagine how your life would be if you never got to play basketball again though," Kise mumbled. "I haven't played in six years." His mood had depleted significantly...though he honestly had no one to blame other than himself for the current situation he was in. Yes, he knew it was a dick move to bring up basketball to the star player, he knew, but he was just so jealous of him. "I don't even deserve a friend like you."

Dealing with Kise when he got into his self-deprecating ways was never a good thing. It wasn't easy, and the redhead got frustrated almost immediately. "Come, let's get you away from the basketball court. Why don't we just go and have a drink instead, huh? It's Friday and I think you're the only one in the building right now."

"I...wouldn't doubt you on that, actually," Kise stood, acknowledging the fact that Kagami was indeed trying to help him out. Again, one of the many reasons Kise didn't even deserve Kagami as a friend. He seemed so sturdy and perfect on his own, and here he was, dumping all his shit on Kagami as he pleased.

"Do you want me to carry you like a princess or." It came out as more of a statement than a question, but still, Kagami stared at Kise as he awaited a response.

"...no."

"Are you sure, because that ankle, I dunno, Ryou, you might even cry if you walk on that." The redhead smirked as he watched the blond's eyes narrow into a glare.

"...I'm perfectly fine walking on my own."

And yet, Kagami still wrapped an arm around him while semi-lifting him up and nearly off the ground. "Wow, what a fatass—You know, for a model you really aren't as light as you'd think a model would be."

"Tiger. I'm still over six feet and I still have all my muscle—I probably even have more muscle from what you last saw, okay. For me to weigh anything under what, 150, would be impossible." This banter was normal, of course, the mutual insults were always there. They were welcome, even. That's just the way these two functioned after meeting up again nearly two years ago.


Back on his floor, Kise began to mope once more. "Taiga, how do you even manage keeping all your friends when you're always playing basketball?"

"I invite them over after games or when I'm off?" Kagami walked over to the model and handed him a simple beer before taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

"But how—HOW." Kise took a swig of the beer. He brought up his legs and sat crosslegged as he faced Kagami. "Like, you're always at practice and stuff, right? Satsuki and—how do you do it?"

"Dude, I really don't think I'm the right person you should be asking for that. Unlike you, my schedule stays the same nearly all the time. It's easy to plan around it. Your shit's got you flying around all over the place. I hear you just got back from New York?"

Kagami only earned a nod in response.

"Hey, hey, I'm not trying to brag or any of that shit, but it is easier. And I'm pretty sure you have loads of friends still." Kagami swallowed hard; even he knew that a majority of Kise's so called friends only wanted to edge on his generosity. And there really was no point in asking about his friends from high school. He heard everything from Momoi as it was. "So uh, how'd that model dude work out for you?"

"Total dick," Kise sighed out as he took another drink.

"Of course he was."

Kise nodded and leaned into the couch. "I kinda give up on that shit though, Taiga. It's just happened too many times already."

"Maybe should just take a break and give yourself some time to catch up with everyone you want to? Who knows, maybe one of those people you broke ties with is actually who you've been looking for?" Kagami took a drink of his own beer and gave Kise a look. "I know you have some regrets, anyway."

"Shh, shh," the blond drummed his fingers along the glass of his bottle. "I don't remember that it's a regret until I actually get reminded that it's a regret."

"You should've just told him."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know." Kise sighed as he took another drink. "But that was years ago and I'm here now and he's moved on and I've...kinda moved on...careerwise..." He sighed loudly and rubbed at his face. "WHY AM I SO STUPID, AUGH, HONESTLY."

"Ryouta. Chill, chill. You're just probably going to have to close that chapter if you're going to feel any better." Kagami sighed just as loud. "And you know what I mean by closing it. Maybe you'll keep on writing onto it."

"Yeah, sure. He's always been into chicks with huge tits and nice hips, and asses and..." Kise trailed. "I don't have any of that."

"I think you qualify for the hips thing."

"...you need to not look at my hips that hard."

"Just saying. Normal dudes can't fit into those jeans you wear in the same way you wear them." Kagami shrugged.

Another sigh. "I just haven't seen him since the last year of high school, so it's just...we're at different points in life, so there's not really much to go off of anymore. It's not like I can talk about high school or any of that shit because that's really stupid and lame and just—who does that? No one. No one does."

"Maybe you just need to," the redhead shrugged. "That's what you have to do. It's like becoming friends with him all over again."

All over again.

He had to start from step one.

He didn't know if he could even manage that.

He slumped over onto Kagami's shoulder. "Taiga, you know that sounds way easier than actually doing it, right?"

"What's that saying though? 'All things worth having take work'?"

"You're still so cheesy. It's awful."


ps i dont own knb or anything all that jazz and rights are waved and owned by their respective owners all that fancy stuff ok thank