Chapter Text
Jordan knows it, a lot of them know it. However, Steph, Klay and Dray probably don’t. JTA for sure knows it, Lee too. Nemanja doesn’t even want to be here anymore, got his ring and has decided he’s out. Jordan thinks that’s fair, the NBA is a lot . It’s a whole lot. It’s loud, chaotic, and fast, it’s really fast. More than half the time Jordan’s barely keeping up, his damn pink Kobe’s keep slipping all over the court floor, he’s throwing up threes in rush, he doesn’t even want to talk about playing defense.
Free Agency started yesterday, he knows he’s not going anywhere. He did well, he earned his place on the team.
He’s enjoying his ‘summer,’ break. Which isn’t really all that much different from the season he supposes.
Jordan spends all his time playing basketball, whether it’s insufferably early in the morning out at some random court nearby his apartment, or late into the night at the Oracle center, him being the first and last one to arrive. He needs to be better. The Warriors need Jordan to be better. Jordan needs Jordan to be better.
That’s how he spends his days, wake up, play basketball, eat, basketball, basketball, basketball, eat, basketball, and sleep. Gosh, he hasn’t even really thought about Steph.
But not today. Jordan woke up and couldn’t find it in himself to move. He can hear Kota meowing out in the hall, he doesn’t even need an alarm anymore, Kota works even better. Kai on the other hand is curled up above his head, resting on his pillow. Reaching a hand up, he rubs his thumb against Kai’s jaw whilst he’s sleeping for a few minutes. Choosing to relax even further into his sheets, maybe he’ll just stay in bed today.
Kota’s decision to let out another piercing meow is what sends him up and out of his bedroom. He almost trips on the clothes he leaves lying around. Jordan knows he needs to be less lazy, it’s not all that much work to pick up after himself. He’s an adult now.
“I’m coming, hold on a sec.”
He’s got to stop getting so distracted, stop getting so lost in his thoughts.
Making his way to the kitchen, he pours both Kota and Kai their separate dishes. Kai’s still fast asleep, good for him.
Jordan’s not hungry, he hasn’t really kept up with having full meals throughout the break. He fills himself a cold glass of water, his throat is dry. So dry that every time he swallows it’s pretty near painful.
He flops down upon the couch, skilled hands making sure his water doesn’t go spilling all over himself. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table that’s just a little bit taller than the edge of the couch. Jordan probably spends a solid thirty minutes flipping through television channels, not even his favorite Rick and Morty is catching his attention.
This is new, he hasn’t really ever just relaxed this past, what? Year now?
Well, it’s not like it’s working anyways.
And after that, he returns his day to its quickly paced schedule. Albeit, there’s not as many gross and sweaty clothes laying around his room anymore.
Days go on, JTA leaves.
That’s okay, Juan will have more luck with the Lakers.
Soon it’s Lee and Nemanja.
It’s okay, he tells himself.
Otto disappears not soon after.
He’ll be making more money, good for him, Jordan thinks.
And then Gary leaves.
Jordan cuts himself off from the team after that.
Not entirely, he still has a job, a career. He works with his trainer, his game is improving. He can hit threes with ease, he’s fast enough to our maneuver and avoid just about anyone, or that’s what he’d like to believe.
It wasn’t really like he’d been super close with them all. Nonetheless, they were about the only people he spoke too, let alone considered friends. Save for his mother and cats.
He stops thinking about the team, which is dumb. He knows it’s stupid. But he also knows he needs to improve, needs to prove that he belongs on a championship team.
When he’s not busy dedicating his every moment to the game, he thinks about Steph.
The way he was proud when Jordan would nail a dead on three from half court. Or how he would reassure Jordan when he would mess up. Or his stupid grin he would flash at the crowd and teammates alike.
Jordan’s at the outdoor court nearby his place when he hears the phone ring. He’s at a loss for who would be calling, he’d spoken to his mom yesterday, reassured her that he was getting out and about, not stressing himself about tedious things.
To Jordan’s absolute surprise, CURRY30 illuminates the screen. He doesn’t waste much time to accept the call.