Picturesque

I walked through my apartment, eyes hazy from the amount of drinks I had consumed in the past few hours. After leaving the bar, I went straight home because where else was I supposed to go? Last time I checked, there wasn't many places open just after three in the morning and even though it took me three times to get the key in the lock, I still ended up home.

I pursed my lips, eyes wandering around the room before they locked on a framed white and sea foam green jersey; the last jersey that I ever wore. Snorting, I began to walk towards the couch, slightly dragging my right leg behind me as my knee hurt.

The limp wasn't as bad as it used to be, but it was still there as a to remind me of the first love I ever lost.

As I threw myself down onto the leather seat, I looked over at the shelf on the wall, a small plaque engraved with the words, “Best Setter,” mocking me from its spot and I just shut my eyes, laying my face in the palm of my hands.

It was the only award that I had left junior high with and just looking at it pained me. The plaque was a constant reminder of the past and how hard I worked all because of one boy... Oh, how I always tried to do better than him even though I knew he thought of me as his senpai.

My phone vibrated where I left it before going off to the bar and I picked it up, noticing that I had almost five missed calls from Iwaizumi. Even though we had parted ways before going to college, we still saw each other quite often and it made me realize that our friendship will probably never die.

Ignoring the time, I slowly dialed his number before holding the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring. I picked at a spot on my pants, reaching for my camera and holding it on my lap before I heard the click of my call being answered, a groggy voice speaking:

“Oikawa, what are you doing calling at this time of night?”

“I saw that you had called, Iwa-chan, and I only thought it was only appropriate to return the gesture. I had figured that you're worried about me since we haven't spoke in about a week,” my voice was slightly slurred as I spoke, examining my camera lense.

The line was silent for a moment before I heard him sigh, “You were at the bar again, weren't you? What did I tell you about not bringing you cell phone with you? If something would have happened to you then--”

“Iwa-chan, I'm fine. I made it home okay and if you really want to know what I'm doing right now, I'm sitting in my living room about to go through some photos that I took of a lovely couple a few days ago,” I said, cutting him off before he went on one of his long, motherly lectures.

I heard him sigh before he grumbled, “I still worry about you, Trashykawa. I don't think I'll ever stop doing that. We've always been best friends for a reason.”

“Iwaizumi, who is it that you're talking on the phone this late to? Is it Oikawa-san?” A voice was heard from the background of his call and I knew that it had to have been his current boyfriend/girlfriend; the voice was too faint to tell which.

I coughed, slurring once again, “Well, I'll let you get back to sleep. I'm sorry for calling you this late at night, but yeah... You can text me in the morning or something; whichever you'd prefer. I-I'll be sure to stay out of trouble...”

He cried out to protest as he noticed the change of tone in my voice before I hung up, not even saying goodbye.

I hated the fact that all of my friends – not that I had that many anymore – were out being happy with their lives while I spent most of my time drinking my woes away. Yes, I loved my job and I got to meet so many people each day, but it felt like there was a hole in my heart and I knew the only thing that would be able to fill it.

Turning on my camera, I began to flip through the pictures of the photo shoot, staring at the happy couple as they held hands, admiring each others faces. The look in the woman's eyes was pure adoration, while I could tell by the man's posture that he'd do anything to protect her.

Tears streamed down my face and I tried to wipe them away with the back of my hand, but I couldn't help it. I was alone and I was meant to remain that way; if that hadn't have been the case, I wouldn't have lost my ability to play volleyball, I wouldn't have had to force myself into a profession that I almost knew nothing about, I wouldn't have had to force myself to watch that boy walk away with someone with bright orange hair, clutching each others hands tightly.

I sat the camera back down on the coffee table, grabbing a tissue and blowing my nose before I laid back on the couch, slowly drifting to sleep as my exhaustion finally took over.

Why couldn't I just fall in love like everyone else does?