The next morning, Link sat in front of the TV in his living room.
Andrew and Amy were right there with him.
"God bless… God bless…" Andrew kept muttering like a nervous prayer.
"Alright, Andrew, enough already," Link said, rubbing his temples. The guy was giving him a headache.
On the screen, TNT's All-Star special was winding down.
The shot cut back to the studio where Kenny Smith and Charles Barkley were hosting.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, here comes the part everyone's been waiting for!"
The two hosts suddenly paused for dramatic effect, milking the tension.
It was driving Andrew crazy.
After a few tense seconds, Kenny continued.
"The 2007 Las Vegas All-Star Game reserves, selected by the coaches, have just been delivered to us."
Andrew and Amy both held their breath, hearts pounding.
"First up, the Eastern Conference reserves—"
Kenny read off the names one by one: Vince Carter, Joe Johnson, Chauncey Billups…
Each name came with commentary and cheers from the studio.
Link's breathing stayed steady, but he unconsciously leaned forward a bit.
Once the East was done, the camera shifted to the West.
"Now for the Western Conference reserves," Smith said, picking up another card.
"First name: Dirk Nowitzki from the Dallas Mavericks!"
No surprise there—the Mavs were the top seed in the West.
"Second: Tracy McGrady from the Houston Rockets!"
McGrady was a lock with his popularity and elite play.
"Third: Carmelo Anthony from the Denver Nuggets!"
Sweet Melon was another no-brainer, one of the league's rising stars.
"Fourth: Amar'e Stoudemire from the Phoenix Suns!"
Just as expected, STAT made it. One frontcourt spot left.
The host paused dramatically to build tension.
"Fifth: Ray Allen from the Seattle SuperSonics!"
Ray was replacing the injured Iverson this season.
"Sixth," Smith's voice rose slightly, "Tony Parker from the San Antonio Spurs!"
Time seemed to stretch.
The French speedster was having a hell of a year, and the Spurs sat third in the West.
Link's fingers twitched. Just one spot left.
"Seventh," Kenny suddenly stopped and grinned at Barkley. "Charles, want to take a guess?"
Barkley threw out a few random names.
After Kenny shot them all down, Barkley played along with an exaggerated surprised face.
"Motherfucker!!! This TNT show is fucking trash!" Andrew finally exploded, unable to take it anymore.
"Watch the language, Andrew!" Amy scolded, frowning.
A moment later, Charles Barkley slapped Kenny on the arm.
"Alright, quit stalling, Kenny. Just tell us."
Kenny Smith didn't drag it out any longer.
"Seventh: Los Angeles Lakers — Link!"
"Let's congratulate these lucky players making the 2007 NBA All-Star Game!"
Charles Barkley's booming voice filled the room.
"I called it! The Prophet earned this spot! He's changing the game out there!"
The broadcast immediately cut to a highlight reel of Link's season.
The 49-point explosion against the Suns.
The thunderous poster dunk over Maggette.
The clutch mid-range jumper against the Spurs.
And that heartbreaking toe-on-the-line three in Washington.
Stats flashed across the screen:
21.9 points, 4.2 rebounds, 2.7 assists per game.
46.9% from the field, 41.5% from three.
He was the Lakers' clear second option behind Kobe, with big jumps in both production and efficiency from last season.
The second Link's name was announced, Andrew leaped off the couch like a rocket.
"Oh God!!! Link!!! All-Star!!! You fucking did it!!! I knew it!!!"
His voice nearly cracked from pure excitement.
Almost immediately, Link's phone started blowing up.
Notifications and texts flooded the screen.
Odom, Bynum, Farmar—everyone was sending messages with a million exclamation points.
Bynum even sent a voice note of himself screaming like a maniac.
Luke Walton's text was more chill: "Well deserved, brother. Enjoy every second of this."
Then Kobe's text came in—short and classic.
"Congrats. Get ready. See you in Vegas."
Yao Ming even called from Houston.
"Congrats, man! See you in Vegas. I'll take you to the best food in town."
Meanwhile, Andrew was still losing it, eyes red, rambling.
"I knew it! Ever since you signed that ten-day contract! God—fuck God, this was all you!"
Amy stood up and gave Link a tight hug.
"Congratulations, Link. You earned every bit of this."
"Thanks," Link said sincerely, smiling.
His phone buzzed again.
This time it was from Isabella.
She sent a photo and a short message.
It was an unreleased behind-the-scenes shot from the VOGUE cover shoot. Link was fixing his suit jacket, side profile focused and calm.
Isabella had edited a little All-Star hat on him with "WEST ALLSTAR" written across it.
The caption read: "The photographer said this photo always felt like it had a story. Now that story has a brand new chapter, Mr. ALLSTAR."
Link smiled at the picture and replied.
"Thanks. Nice P on the hat."
He stared at the photo for another second, then typed more.
"Good stories need an audience. Vegas—got room in your schedule to come watch the All-Star game live?"
Her reply came quickly.
"Hmm—what a coincidence. I'll be shooting in Medford around that time. Maybe I can swing by afterward."
Swing by? Link chuckled.
Medford to Vegas wasn't exactly "on the way."
But he could feel the warmth and the yes behind her words.
"Then it's a date. See you in Vegas!" he texted back.
Andrew and Amy were both staring at him with knowing grins.
"Isabella?" Amy asked, smiling.
Link nodded casually. "Yeah. I invited her to come watch the All-Star Game."
"Damn!" Andrew whistled. "All-Star weekend in Vegas… with a supermodel on your arm—"
"Shut up, Andrew."
Link laughed, but his mood was lighter than ever.
The TV had moved on to other sports news, but the energy in the room stayed electric.
Andrew was already planning all the things he wanted to do in Vegas.
Team staff texted him reminders about what to pack, and several media outlets had already requested pre-game interviews.
The dust had officially settled.
Link was an All-Star.