The lights dimmed. The music hit.

Green lasers sliced the air.

Fans roared.

Cameras flashed.

Opening Night.

The Boston Celtics vs. Philadelphia 76ers.

Kyle Wilson stood in the tunnel.

Jersey crisp.

Knees tight.

Mind racing.

All his life—gritty concrete, blood-stained alleys, bullet-whispers, broken nets—

Led to this moment.

Jumbotron boomed:

"NOW INTRODUCING… THE BOSTON CELTICS!"

One by one, players ran through the fog.

Kyle stood back, unnoticed.

13th man.

No spotlight.

But his heart? Pounding like a war drum.

First Quarter – Speed of the GameIme nodded to him with four minutes left in the first.

"Kyle. Let's see if the Reaper's real."

Kyle exhaled, rose, and peeled off his warmup.

Court felt like glass. Air like static.

He checked in.

First matchup?

Tobias Harris.

The Sixers swung the ball. Harris pump-faked, drove—Kyle stayed with him.

BAM! A chase-down block.

Crowd buzzed.

But next play?

Harris faked again.

Stepback.

Three in Kyle's face.

"Welcome to the league," Tobias whispered.

Back on the Bench – Head-SpinningKyle sat, catching his breath. His chest thudded like a speaker.

"It's different when the lights on," Marcus Smart said, grinning.

Kyle nodded.

He wasn't afraid.

Just overstimulated.

Meanwhile – Ari's SeatAri sat courtside, perfectly dressed, smile poised.

But beside her sat Andre Bishop—her ex, and now a rising marketing exec for Adidas.

"Didn't expect to see you here," he said smoothly.

"I'm his agent. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No ring on your finger. No exclusive contract. Just saying... I still got time."

She rolled her eyes.

"You're 15 minutes away from a lawsuit."

He laughed.

"Relax. Just here to watch your golden boy."

Second Quarter – Fading FastKyle checked back in.

He snagged a rebound.

Ran the break.

Dished to Jaylen Brown for an alley-oop.

Flashy.

Loud.

Hopeful.

But the Sixers adjusted.

They doubled him on rotations.

Forced him into weak-side switches.

He overplayed a lane—

BOOM. Dunk by Embiid off the slip pass.

Crowd groaned.

Ime called timeout.

Kyle jogged back, breathing hard.

Coach didn't scold him.

"You want to survive in this league, Reaper? You gotta learn when to hunt and when to hide your blade."

Halftime – Haunted by His MindIn the locker room, Kyle sat alone for a second.

He looked at his phone.

No messages.

He checked his mom's old voicemail again. Just to hear it.

"Hi baby… it's Mummy. Just remember, stars shine the brightest at night. I love you."

He clenched his fists.

Back in Jamaica – A Shadow MovesBack in Montego Bay, a man named Bishop Ruel, former associate of Chino's, sat in a bar.

He stared at the game on TV.

Zoomed in on Kyle.

"So… the prodigal son still shining."

He lit a cigarette.

"Let's see how long the light lasts."

Third Quarter – A Statement SequenceKyle checked back in.

Ime nodded.

"Just be you. Nothing more."

First defensive stand:

He read the pick-and-roll, blitzed, tipped the pass—

Steal.

Ran the floor.

Caught a lob from Payton Pritchard—

BAM! Two-handed dunk.

Crowd roared.

Next play:

On-ball with Harris again.

Stayed grounded.

Contested. Missed shot.

Bench jumped up.

Kyle pointed to the sky.

Not for the crowd.

For Nichola.

Ari's Moment – Decision TimeAndre leaned in again.

"You know we're still interested. Adidas + Kyonic would be big."

Ari turned.

"You think I'm going to sell out his legacy for your paycheck?"

"I think he'll be forgotten in two years if he doesn't win now. You want insurance? Come with us."

She smiled.

"You never understood what it means to build something from ashes. He's not for sale. And neither am I."

Fourth Quarter – Final PushKyle stayed on the floor longer than expected.

Ime rode the bench unit.

Close game. 94–93 Celtics lead.

2:19 remaining.

Kyle rotated, tipped a pass—dived out of bounds to save it.

Jaylen got it. Fastbreak dunk.

Crowd erupted.

Commentary buzzed:

"Wilson playing with reckless control—exactly what Boston needs."

Next defensive stand—

Harris again.

Isolation.

Pump. Drive. Spin.

Kyle stayed with him.

Vertical contest.

Miss.

Final Play – Trust17 seconds left. Celtics up 2.

Ime subbed Kyle out.

But then…

"Nah. Stay. You earned the last stand."

Sixers ran a misdirection.

Danny Green caught the inbound—

Kyle switched—stripped it clean.

Ball game.

Postgame – Locker Room PraiseJayson Tatum bumped his fist.

"Welcome to the league, rook."

Marcus:

"You a dawg. Now just do it 81 more times."

Ime:

"That was the first brick. Don't forget what it cost."

Kyle sat quietly after.

Tired.

Bruised.

But alive.

Late Night Rooftop – AgainKyle and Ari met at the rooftop again.

Same city.

New lights.

"You were great," she said.

"I was human."

"Good. Stay that way."

He looked up.

"Think they'll remember my name?"

She smiled.

"They don't have a choice."

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