Opening Scene – The ContractKyle sat across from Celtics General Manager Brad Stevens and team agent reps. Ari sat beside him—no longer just his girl, but his eyes and ears.

The table was covered with legal paperwork and iced coffees.

Brad slid the paper forward.

"Four-year rookie scale. First two guaranteed. Roughly $3.6 million this season, escalating. And, of course, a team option on years three and four."

Kyle kept his expression still.

"Can I add my brand into it?"

Brad tilted his head.

"Your Kyonic brand?"

"Yeah. My off-court identity. I don't want a conflict clause stopping me from wearing my own gear when I'm not in uniform."

A pause.

Brad smirked.

"We've never had a rookie come in asking for branding leverage."

"You've never had me before."

Ari jumped in.

"He's not signing without protection. He's not property. He's a partner."

The room went silent.

Then Brad laughed, impressed.

"You two are dangerous. I like it."

He leaned over and signed.

"Welcome to the league, Wilson."

Training Camp – First Day at TD Garden Practice FacilityThe Celtics rookies arrived early, greeted by staff and veterans.

Kyle wore simple black Kyonic warmups. No jewelry. No cameras.

He walked in silently but commanded the room like a storm on the horizon.

He met:

Jayson Tatum – quiet but friendly.

Jaylen Brown – intellectual, observant.

Marcus Smart – vocal, gritty, didn't shake hands—he tested your chest.

Payton Pritchard – funny but serious on the court.

A few other rookies and undrafted free agents trying to survive.

Rookie Coach Cliff Vaughn clapped his hands.

"Welcome to hell, fellas. Camp ain't about comfort. It's about culture. You ain't here to be stars. You're here to fit the system or get cut."

First Scrimmage – Baptism by FireKyle's first full-speed scrimmage came 48 hours later.

He guarded Jaylen Brown.

Got cooked on the first possession—a jab step, spin move, easy layup.

Jaylen grinned.

"Welcome to the deep end, rookie."

Next play? Kyle locked in.

Got up in his grill. Deflected a pass. Chased down a block.

Then ran the floor and caught a bullet pass from Tatum for a baseline dunk.

Veterans began nodding.

Marcus Smart shouted from the sideline:

"Okay, Reaper! I see you!"

Locker Room Bonds BeginKyle earned quiet respect quickly.

Didn't whine. Didn't fake hustle.

Stayed after every session for film study.

Ate lunch with vets, not rookies.

Tatum pulled him aside one night.

"You don't act like most lottery kids."

"I wasn't raised like most."

"You ready for the heat?"

"I've lived through hotter than this."

Tatum nodded.

"Let's build something real."

Off the Court – Ari's Agency AwakensAri's phone blew up after Kyle's contract hit the media.

"Rookie negotiates brand clause into NBA contract—first of its kind."

She now had calls from:

Two G-League prospects

A WNBA forward from Atlanta

A 16-year-old high school prodigy from Baltimore

But the most surprising?

A call from Adidas.

"We want to partner with you—not Kyle—but you. Build the next wave of athlete agents."

She wasn't sure yet.

But she took the meeting.

Summer League – Las Vegas Prep BeginsCoach Vaughn called the Summer League roster.

"Wilson. You're running the 3. We're not saving minutes. You want to impress the league? Show them now."

Kyle practiced with the Summer League team for two weeks.

No big names.

No lights.

Just grinders.

He became the leader fast.

Directed plays.

Protected the paint.

Hit open shots.

Talked on switches.

The coaching staff took notes.

"This kid's NBA-ready."

Media Pressure – The Hype ReturnsBleacher Report:

"Is Kyle Wilson the steal of the draft?"

ESPN:

"Wilson's defense is elite. Offense catching up."

Ari told him over FaceTime:

"Your name's buzzing again."

"Then it's time to burn louder."

Last Scene – Summer League Tip-Off ApproachesKyle suited up in Celtics green for his first Summer League game in Vegas.

Game 1: Celtics vs. Timberwolves.

Yes.

Anthony Edwards would be playing.

Kyle stood in the tunnel, tightening his wrist tape.

Marcus texted:

"Welcome to the storm."

Ari sent a voice note:

"Show them what it means to be Kyonic."

Kyle stepped onto the floor.

Vegas lights blinding.

Crowd electric.

Anthony saw him. Walked over.

Grinned wide.

"Didn't think you'd make it this far, mixtape."

Kyle looked him dead in the eye.

"You're about to find out I ain't no f***ing highlight."

Tip-off.

Game on.

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