As the plane touched down at McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas, the air was still crisp, but the warm afternoon sun bathed the desert's city of sin in a golden glow.
Those luxurious, towering hotels flashed with the brilliance of metal and glass.
Link had spent a few months here during the last offseason.
Aside from that one night Kobe dragged him to the casino, he had practically lived in the practice facility. He never had the time to appreciate the city's neon lights and nightlife.
The moment he stepped off the plane, he saw the airport corridors already decked out in NBA All-Star welcome banners.
Massive posters lined the halls, displaying the faces of the Eastern and Western Conference All-Stars in two long rows.
Link spotted his own promotional poster right there in the lineup of reserve players.
Plenty of fans and tourists waiting at arrivals were holding up their phones, snapping pictures.
Someone recognized Link walking briskly with a baseball cap pulled low, and let out a few shouts.
"It's Link! Wow!"
"Link, can I get an autograph?"
"Let's go, Link!"
Link slowed his pace, smiling and nodding to acknowledge the passionate crowd.
He signed for the fans closest to him.
Team security politely escorted him through the mob and toward the waiting team bus.
"Better get used to it, Link," one of the security guards chuckled softly. "You're going to see a lot more of this all weekend."
By the time he arrived at the hotel, the media's cameras and microphones were already set up and waiting.
Link's very first All-Star media availability was scheduled in a temporary press room at the hotel.
The second he walked in, over twenty lenses pivoted his way. The blinding wave of camera flashes made him squint.
"Link! Over here!"
"Right here, Link!"
"Got a few words for us?"
The reporters' voices bled into one chaotic noise.
He took his seat behind the table bearing his nameplate and adjusted his microphone.
A league media official took control, bringing order to the room and calling on reporters one by one.
The first to stand was a reporter from TNT.
"Link, first time making the All-Star team—how does it feel? Especially for a guy who clawed his way up from a 10-day contract."
It was a sharp question. Link kept his answer smooth and grounded.
"It's a massive honor, and I'm incredibly grateful. I'm standing here today because a lot of people gave me an opportunity and trusted me."
"As for the 10-day contract..." Link paused for a second.
"I'll always look back on that time. It reminds me how hard it is to earn this. That's the beauty of the NBA—at the end of the day, it's all about what you produce on the floor, no matter where you started."
It was a clean answer—appreciative, without falling into any media traps.
The reporter followed up. "You've taken a massive leap this season. What do you credit for that jump? And how do you see your role fitting in with this All-Star roster?"
"Relentless practice, studying the film, and doing everything I can to buy into the team's system," Link said honestly.
"As for my role... I know exactly where I stand. I'm the new guy. There are a lot of legends and superstars here that I need to learn from."
"I'm just going to bring energy, and most importantly, I want to represent the Lakers organization and all the fans supporting me by putting on a great show!"
A reporter from Sports Illustrated lobbed a lighter question.
"Anything specific you're looking forward to in Vegas? Outside of basketball."
Link cracked a smile. "If I get the chance, I'm hoping to try out one of these famous buffets."
That earned a relaxed laugh from the press pool.
A few questions later, the press conference wrapped up with a great vibe.
Link followed the staff out of the room.
He had prepped these answers earlier with Andrew. Handling the media hadn't been stressful at all.
---
Later that night.
The heavy hotel door shut out the noise of the media circus.
Link walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The players were put up in the penthouse suites of the hotel's main tower. A 240-degree panoramic glass wall offered an unobstructed, breathtaking view of the Las Vegas strip at night.
He killed the room lights and stood in the dark, staring out.
Brilliant neon and city lights wove together into an ocean of color. The towering architecture carved strange, glowing silhouettes against the night sky.
Down below, the taillights of cars bled into a stream of tiny glowing embers.
Up here, you couldn't hear the roar of the city. It felt like standing beneath a silent, magnificent dome. Reflecting the endless glamour of a city that never sleeps.
He didn't know how long he stood there before a soft knock at the door broke the silence.
Link snapped out of his thoughts, a smile automatically tugging at his lips.
He pulled the door open. Isabella was standing there, looking stunning.
She wore a simple cream turtleneck sweater and dark denim. Her long hair was pinned up casually, and the cool night air had dusted her cheeks with a faint pink.
She was holding nothing but a small, sleek carry-on, clearly coming straight from the airport.
Their eyes met, and they both smiled.
"Well, Mr. All-Star, aren't you going to invite me in?" Isabella tilted her head, her eyes sparkling.
Link took her bag and stepped aside.
Isabella walked straight over to the breathtaking window and let out a soft gasp.
"Wow! This view is incredible."
Link walked up beside her, looking out at the city.
From this high up, the massive buildings looked small, and the people were nothing but dust.
Without a word, Link reached out and pulled Isabella gently into his arms.
She leaned into his chest naturally, resting her forehead against his jaw.
The distance, the exhaustion, the pressure—it all melted away in that embrace.
Time seemed to slow down completely.
"You tired?" Link asked softly after a moment.
"A little." Isabella shifted in his arms, finding a more comfortable spot.
Link took her hand, his thumb gently tracing her knuckles.
The air between them grew warmer.
Link lowered his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally, her slightly parted lips.
It started gentle and restrained, but quickly deepened into something far more passionate.
It was a long time before they finally pulled back to catch their breath.
Suddenly, Isabella let out a soft, teasing laugh, like she had just thought of something.
"What's so funny?" Link asked, his fingers brushing against her warm cheek.
"I was just thinking," Isabella looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "With me showing up like this... is it going to mess with the Prophet's game-day conditioning?"
Link paused for a second before he caught the sly look in her eyes. He knew exactly what she was doing.
He pulled her closer, lowering his voice to a whisper right against her ear.
"Tomorrow is just the Skills Challenge and the Rookie Game. The main event isn't until Sunday." His breath brushed against her skin.
"As for my conditioning... I'm pretty sure that staying relaxed and happy is the best way to maintain peak performance..."
Isabella laughed, giving his chest a playful shove, the flush on her cheeks deepening.
Link swept her up into his arms.
Isabella gently closed her eyes. Her beautiful eyelashes fluttered softly.
---
Much later—
Isabella stretched out luxuriously, the hair at her temples damp with sweat.
Her voice was slightly husky. "So... is the Prophet's conditioning better or worse now?"
Link pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and murmured, "Better than it's ever been."
They lay tangled together in the sheets.
Link held her hand, looking seriously into her eyes.
"Honestly, having you here... it grounds me. It makes me feel like all of this is actually real, having someone to share it with."
Isabella's gaze softened completely. She reached up, her hand gently tracing the line of his jaw.
"You earned all of this, Link. Every single second of it."
---