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"Number 5. How does it feel? Youngest to be signed by the Spurs. What's your thoughts? how's the family liking this?" Reporters threw out as I sat in front of them and cameras on live tv.
"Easton. My name is Easton Brewster not number 5." I corrected the man and cleared my throat. "I'm shocked. I thought I was coming out here to just practice next thing I know I'm a teammate. Crazy." I spoke truthfully.
"And like most families, my family is supportive in everything I do." I told them even though I hadn't spoken to anyone in my family in the past 3 days. I know the news had already spread, at first it was rumors I was signing what the Spurs. But now it's official. I know they were all probably losing their minds and mad but my mom always taught us don't let people know when the family is at odds.
"I've been watching you play since middle school. You are something different!" One of the reporters said as I nodded my head. "Thank you." I responded.
"But are you really ready for this big move? Lived on the East coast your whole life now your out here in Texas! Let's talk about it." Another reporter said as I got quiet thinking about an answer.
"Like my sister said earlier this week. If you love something you'll make it work. I'm passionate about basketball. I love playing the game. So I'm going to adjust and learn to love the state of Texas." I said as everyone nodded their heads.
"And that's all the questions folks." The Spurs publicist said as I got up posing for a few pictures then headed back to another part of the arena.
"Okay you are all done for today. Tomorrow morning your first 6 am practice as an actual player on the team! Get some rest and remember you are now apart of this team anything you do reflects us and your image!" She said as I nodded my head.
Walking away towards my agent he started smiling. "Ah your going to make me rich kid!" He said as I chuckled. "I bet." I said walking to the locker room to change out this jersey and basketball shorts. Grabbing my phone I noticed I had over a hundred missed calls and text messages from family and friends.
Putting my black nike tech on I grabbed my duffle bag and made my way out of the arena getting into the rental the team got for me. Right at this moment I was living my dreams but still something felt like it was missing.
Feeling my phone vibrate in my pockets I quickly took it out my pocket and saw it was my father calling. "Hello." I said answering the phone while following the gps.
"What you doing right now?" My father asked as I took a quick glance at the map then back on the road. "Driving." I told him and he got quiet. "Yo Easton call me back when you get to wherever you going." He said before hanging up. Sighing I could already her the anger in his voice. Making my way back to the hotel I decided to hop in the shower first then order some room service.
Finally grabbing my phone I called my father back and he didn't answer so I went down the list pressing my mothers contact. "Boy when I see you best believe you have an ass whooping." She said as I remained quiet. "Are you at least safe Easton?" She asked and I nodded my head because we were on FaceTime.
"Fucking Texas! Why didn't you tell any of us? I could have at least flew out with you! how we suppose to support you and you doing sneaky shit. I didn't raise you to be that way." She said and I nodded my head.
"I know ma. I thought I was just coming out here to practice with them next thing I know I'm signing a 10 million dollar contract." I smiled a little.
"A what? That's a lot of money. Did you read the contract? Is this where you want to play? Like what's going on through your head. What happened to Brooklyn nets or Atlanta Hawks?" My mom asked mentioning the two teams I really wanted to play for.
"Ma ten million. How do I turn that down?" I asked and she shook her head. "Boy it's not about the money. This is your craft you love it. Remember that. Now did you and Irv discuss payment? Like are you paying him out of pocket. Or does he get a portion of this deal." She asked and I honestly didn't know the answer to that question.
"What you mean? I thought you and dad were paying him." I told her and she shook her head no. "Send me your contract now! This is why I didn't want you doing anything by yourself." She said before hanging up. Sighing I heard a knock on my door. Getting up in walked a waiter with a cart of food.
"Thank you." I said giving him a tip as I walked further in the room with my food hearing my phone ringing.
"Hello." I said. "I should beat your ass! I thought we told each other everything!" Dior annoying ass voice shouted as I chuckled.
"How is it? Bitch your a nba basketball player! Like what the fuck." She said as I laughed. "Shits crazy and different." I said. "I bet how was the interviews ? Press conferences." She asked and I nodded my head taking a bite of my burger.
" I damn near shitted in my pants." I said as she laughed. Out of all six of my parents kids I'm the only quiet one. I hated talking in front of people. I hated having to communicate with people. So public speaking, interviews all that was not my thing.
"You did well! Me, India and the kids watched them earlier." She said as India popped her head in the camera. "Wassup Indie." I said calling her the nickname i gave her as she started blushing.
India and I have dated in the past but it didn't work. I know she still has a crush or whatever on me and I ain't gon lie she does have a place in my heart. "What ya ugly ass still doing there anyways aint it late over there?" I asked.
"Boy ugly? You wish." She said causing me to laugh. "Yea mommy said she could spend a night." Dior said as I nodded my head. "Oh alright well Imma finish eating. I'll talk to ya later. Love you." I said before hanging up.
Turning on the espn channel there I was. And a banner saying "Easton Brewster the youngest to sign with the Spurs on a 10 million dollar contract." Ran across the scream.
Opening up the Instagram app I had over a thousand post notifications and the number in my dm kept jumping and going up. "The life of an NBA player." I said out loud shaking my head.
