The gym was still buzzing from Brian's one-on-one victory over Durant. Whispers spread like wildfire—people knew what they had just witnessed. This wasn't just talent. It was something beyond that. Something unnatural.
Brian, however, barely seemed fazed. He rolled his shoulders, exhaled, and walked toward the exit.
— "Yo, Moser."
He turned.
Durant stood there, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
— "You free next weekend?"
Brian raised an eyebrow.
— "Depends. Why?"
Durant grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from his face.
— "We got a private run. Only the best show up. You in?"
Brian let out a short chuckle.
— "You're still doubting me after that game?"
Durant shook his head.
— "Nah. I just wanna see what happens when you go up against more than one killer at a time."
Brian considered it for a moment.
Then he nodded.
— "Send me the details."
Durant tossed him his phone.
— "Put your number in. I'll text you the location."
Brian smirked, entered his number, and handed the phone back.
— "Hope they're ready."
Durant laughed.
— "Hope you're ready."
---
A week later, Brian found himself walking into a private gym in Los Angeles. The moment he stepped inside, he felt the weight of the room shift.
These weren't just players. These were legends.
LeBron James.
Stephen Curry.
Kawhi Leonard.
Paul George.
And a handful of other elite NBA stars.
They all turned when Brian entered.
LeBron, standing near the baseline, grinned.
— "So, this is the kid?"
Durant nodded.
— "You'll see soon enough."
Brian didn't say anything. He just walked to the side, laced up his shoes, and started dribbling.
Curry watched him closely, then nudged LeBron.
— "You ever see someone move like that?"
LeBron shook his head.
— "Nah. But we're about to find out what he's really got."
---
The games started.
Five-on-five, full court, no refs, no easy calls. Just raw competition.
Brian's team? Him, Curry, Paul George, Draymond Green, and a young prospect trying to prove himself.
The opposing team? LeBron, Durant, Kawhi, Devin Booker, and a veteran big man.
As soon as the ball tipped, the intensity skyrocketed.
LeBron played like a general, orchestrating the offense, setting up Kawhi and Booker for clean looks. Durant? He was in full scoring mode, hitting deep shots effortlessly.
But Brian?
Brian was different.
The first time he touched the ball, Kawhi was on him. A defensive nightmare. A player known for locking down even the best scorers in the world.
Brian didn't hesitate.
A quick hesitation dribble, then an explosive first step. Kawhi reacted instantly, moving his feet, staying with him.
But Brian stopped on a dime.
Kawhi slid just a fraction too far.
That was all Brian needed.
He pulled up. Release. Swish.
LeBron raised an eyebrow.
— "Alright then."
The next possession, Brian ran off a screen, caught a pass from Curry, and drilled a three without even looking at the defender closing out.
He backpedaled, staring at Durant.
— "That what you wanted to see?"
Durant smirked.
— "Keep going."
Brian did.
Possession after possession, he tore through defenses. Floaters over bigs. Crossovers that left defenders scrambling. Deep-range shots that made even Curry nod in approval.
He wasn't just keeping up with them.
He was standing above them.
By the time the final game ended, Brian's team had won three out of four runs. He had dropped 45 points across the games.
LeBron walked up, clapping his hands.
— "Alright, man. I see it now."
Brian tilted his head.
— "See what?"
LeBron grinned.
— "Why Durant called you out here. You're a problem."
Brian shrugged.
— "I've been telling people that."
The gym erupted in laughter.
Curry walked over, shaking his head.
— "You ever gonna miss a shot?"
Brian smirked.
— "Maybe when I get bored."
Durant clapped him on the back.
— "Then the league's in trouble."
Brian just smiled.
Because he already knew that.