“I can drive, dad,” Alexa Johansen grumbled, sitting in the passenger seat of the blue Honda Accord used by the family. This car was even older than her, but in most things her dad was a very practical man, and had never replaced it as ‘it was not needed’. Of course, he had also not allowed her to get a car of her own. She understood, kind of, that after her mom passed her dad wanted to keep her close. But she was eighteen now!

Of course, as she saw Las Vegas itself growing closer in the distance, she dropped her complaints. It was still just midday, and the draft wasn’t until… eight in the evening, she was pretty sure. And she had a secret tool, one her dad didn’t know about, in her wallet.

The car fell silent as they traveled through Las Vegas, Alexa looking out the windows in wonder at the sights. There was the Luxor, iconically pyramidal, and the Bellagio water features, and there- the Sphere. The place where her fate for at least the next several years would be decided.

Nils Johansen, father of an ambitious eighteen year old, sighed softly as he pulled in and parked near the Sphere. “Now, Alexa,” he started to warn her, watching his daughter take off her seatbelt and move to open the car door. “... you can have fun, but be safe, and remember to call me if anything happens, alright?”

“Thanks dad!” She said, giving him a quick hug and then hopping out of the car, grabbing her purse on the way. It was a warm day, as most were in Vegas, but she didn’t care, already moving off. She’d heard there was an awesome arcade around here, and a theater with films in Norwegian, and then after that… she played with the secret tool in her wallet again. She was going to get in just the littlest bit of trouble. Just the tiniest bit.

Of course, it was something like noon, which was too early to be going too hard on that, so she’d start slow. Apparently the MGM had an arcade named Level Up, with virtual reality games and a bar, which sounded like a blast and was where she headed right away. She’d already looked up the route, so it was only a few minutes for her to reach the towers on the strip that read MGM Grand.

He had made it. Just days ago he was in a small town in Manitoba called Sandy Lake, and before that back home in the Ukraine. This was not Kramatorsk. This was Las Vegas!!! The lights, the noise, the smells…..it was all so surreal. All of the stories you’ve ever heard or the movies you’ve seen could ever do it justice. Matviy truly couldn’t believe that he was here.

And if all of that wasn’t enough, the reason for him being in Las Vegas was just as overwhelming as his surroundings. For, you see, today was the big day. And for many, since this was Las Vegas afterall, that could be perceived that he was here to get married. Hitched at one of those real classy chapels where someone dressed up like Elvis or Cher or whoever you wanted them to be stood in front of you and told you to give the bride “a hunk a hunk of burning love”.
No, it was certainly not THAT day. For kids clutching hockey sticks through most of their juvenile years, the big day was draft day. And Matviy was going to be a part of it.

Now, you may not expect that for a teenager who barely speaks English that Vegas would be the best place to be wandering around by themselves. But he felt like a little kid having his translator with him all the time, watching his every move. So he told his bodyguard translator, Dmytro, that he’d be ok on his own for a little bit. That he wouldn’t go far. He just wanted a chance to take Las Vegas in by himself.

He stuck out like a sore thumb. Even with the Battleborn being a known commodity these days, wandering around the city in a hockey jersey wasn’t completely the norm. Especially not one adorned by the colours and crest of the Ukraine. People turned and stared, if only for a second, at the peculiar lad. This was Vegas, however, so it wasn’t like this was the weirdest thing they’d seen that day.

Where would he go? It wasn’t far into his walk where he heard something familiar. In Kramatorsk, there was a small arcade that he and his friends would go to. This wasn’t a big, modern arcade with state of the art games and gadgetry that one would see in most malls around America (if those even exist anymore). There was a game that they used to play a lot, and that most people would have likely played at one point in their life. The sound he heard was the haunting echo of the Pac-Man intro music. Pac-Man! Sure, maybe that wouldn’t be your first choice of places to go in Vegas, but it was something Matviy knew and so he followed the music until he stopped, looked up and saw the big letters MGM…..

“Hey!” Alexa stopped in her tracks. Some dude in blue and yellow would have barely registered to her, if he hadn’t stopped right in front of her. And if he wasn’t wearing a hockey jersey. “Dude, what the hell, don’t just stop in the middle of the road,” she said. “If you’re going in, go in. But maybe take off the hockey jersey? Draft isn’t until way later tonight, and that’s why you’ve got it, right? Some kinda superfan?”

He recognized her. Alexa something. He hadn’t much to do when he was sitting in the hotel. Flipping through the channels, he had become bored and started thumbing through the pages of the draft pamphlet he was given from one of the countless draft administrators he had come across. Each page had a picture of a player and little bits of information about them. Moreso meant for the fans who were attending the event, Matviy enjoyed looking through it. And while he didn’t understand most of what was written on the pages, he did try to make a point of remembering the faces and some of the names. Yes, it was Alexa, he was sure of it.

“Alexa?”, he managed to stutter out, which caught her completely by surprise.

“How do you know my name?” She asked, pulling him aside. “Listen, I don’t know you, but don’t blow my cover, alright?” She said, pulling out her wallet and then showing Matviy a card. A card that had her picture, and the name Alexa Johnson on it, and clearly indicated she had just turned twenty one two weeks ago. “I am going into that casino and having a good time before the draft, and I don’t want a superfan to ruin this for me. Got it?... shit, wait, don’t put that on social media!”

Matviy looked at the card she had shown him. It didn’t look much like what his did, but he figured it to be an American driver’s license. Which immediately rang some alarm bells for him. American? Didn’t the brochure have a picture of a Norwegian flag on it? And it said 21, and he knew for certain that she wasn’t that old. It dawned on him then. He had seen bootleg copies of Superbad in the Ukraine before. This was a fake ID!!!

“No, no, no,” he said to her, attempting to turn away from her before she caught the elbow of his jersey and turned him back around so that they were now face to face.

“Look. I don’t know who you are but like I said, you’re not ruining this for me. You look a little uptight so if I were you, I’d just follow me and have some fun,” she said, a small smile appearing on her face.

“Matviy,” he managed to say. “Ukrainian. English not so good. Aren’t you going into the draft today?” he exclaimed, his voice raising with every point.

“... yeah, gonna call you Matty,” Alexa shook her head. “But, damn… you aren’t already twenty-one anyways, right?... and, uh, maybe. Why?”

He looked down and pointed to the crest on his jersey. “I am here for this draft too.” He smiled, awkwardly, as though he had just told her he had a crush on her. His face reddened, and he was perhaps the slightest bit embarrassed that she didn’t recognize him. I guess not everyone looked at the S75 SMJHL Draft Prospects brochure.

“Ah, crap,” Alexa ran a hand through her hair. “No wonder you're wandering around like that. And no way you have a fake ID on you, or are twenty-one already… hrmm…”

“Seventeen. Just passport,” Matviy replied, somewhat dejectedly as he sensed that he might not be part of Alexa’s plans anymore. He hadn’t made any friends yet since arriving, and so this seemed like as good an opportunity as any. Even if the circumstances surrounding it were a bit odd. He had always been a good kid and had never got into much trouble. On today of all days, this seemed like an odd choice to go against that history. Which made it all the more surprising to him when, before he had a chance to stop himself, he heard the words tumble out of his mouth, “sneak in?”

“I don’t even know if they’d let you in,” Alexa frowned, pulling out her phone. “Alright, alright, just a second. Come on, Google…” she said, tapping away at it. “Alright! There’s an arcade at Caesar's that you can at least enter… no booze for you, too bad so sad, but at least I’m not leaving some wide eyed foreigner to wander off into Sin City alone, right?... Maybe this is a bad idea, I barely know you. But I feel bad.”

There must be something in the Vegas air. The heat, the sweat, the stale smell of alcohol…all of that makes you feel like a different person when you’re there. If you’ve been, then you know that feeling. It’s perhaps why the saying “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” is so true. It’s as though we become a completely different person when visiting.

Matviy, or Matty as his new friend now referred to him as, was trying to think of what to do. He wanted to impress Alexa. In that moment he had come up with an idea. It was a bad idea, but an idea nonetheless.

“Wait here. 5 minutes,” he told her before sprinting off towards the direction of his hotel. Matviy didn’t have a fake ID, but he had something else. Dmytro, his translator. You didn’t think that was the last you were going to hear about him in this story, did you? Dmytro, although not the spitting image of Matviy, bore a close enough resemblance that maybe, just maybe, if he was able to get his hands on his ID he might be able to fool the security guards at the MGM.

Arriving at the door of his hotel room, he quickly began to compose himself so that he may enter the room stealthily if need be. He slid the card key down the slot in his door handle and it made a tiny beep and unlatching noise, permitting him entrance. “Dmytro,” he whispered, tiptoeing into the room. Dmytro had told him that he was going to have a nap while Matviy made his minor explorations of the city. With the travel of the last few days, Matviy himself was fighting the jetlag and was running on complete adrenaline at this point. Young, dumb, and full of draft hope.

“Snzrksrk”. Matviy jumped. Dmytro snored on the bed. This was his opportunity. He made his way to the closet where Dmytro’s jacket hung. Sliding his hand into the inner pocket, he removed the wallet and fumbled the ID out. Quickly and quietly, he moved out of the room. In the better lighting of the hallway, he took a better look at the card. Dmytro was 25 years old. Matviy was a bit of a babyface,  but at 6’1” and 200lbs, he had the frame of a man. This might just work after all. Now all that was left was to return to Alexa, if she had bothered waiting for him….

Outside the MGM grand, the girl was still standing where he had left her, playing on his phone. Actually, on second observation, she was almost as tall as him, and likely almost as built, as well. She looked up from her phone, nodding upwards at him. “That was more like ten minutes,” she commented. “So what did you run off for?”

“McLovin,” he said, as he fished the ID card out from his pants pocket and held it in front of Alexa’s face, which wasn’t much lower than his own as he took in the fact she was nearly the height that he was. She looked strong too. He was used to strong Ukrainian women. Maybe that’s why he felt some sort of a kinship with her despite only knowing her mere minutes. Or maybe it was just that Vegas magic again.

“Now I am Dmytro. Let’s go do Vegas,” Matty said, and began walking towards the entrance.

“How about Dimitri?” Alexa asked, taking a few large steps to catch up to him. “Nah, probably not. What’s a McLovin, though? Some kind of Europe-only McDonald’s product? Sounds like it,” she said as they entered the MGM.

The first thing they saw was a statue of a golden lion, surrounded by colorful flowers. To the left they could see a buffet, down the hall was the casino proper, and to the right were multiple huge televisions, but Alexa instead followed a sign on the wall that read ‘Level Up’. It was only another minute or two until they’d reached a massive arcade. There was a bar along the left wall, and the rest of the space was filled with games of all kinds, from old cabinets to a VR set-up.

“Oh fuck yes,” Alexa pumped her fist a little bit, immediately heading for the VR section. “God, this has gotta be the holy grail of arcades. Suck a dick, Dave and Busters.”

“Who are Dave and Buster,” Matty questioned but he barely got the words out of his mouth before Alexa took off towards the arcade. He followed her in hot pursuit, trying not to let the wonders of the MGM distract him.

Once in the arcade, the hustle and bustle of activity did little to slow Alexa down. He could see a Pac-Man machine and hoped she would stop there. As he ran past, the fading sound of the waka-waka behind him, he yelled out to her, “wait!” and dodged a couple playing pinball, narrowly avoiding knocking them down like one of the bumpers in the game they were playing.

“Dave and Busters is a chain of arcades with bars and stuff,” Alexa said passingly as she slowed down, looking over the arcade cabinets as well. “They have damn near… oh, no way,” she stopped, pivoting, barely even paying attention to Matviy now as she approached a cabinet emblazoned with Star Wars Trilogy Arcade across the side. “Holy shit… my mom loved this one, it was her favorite. Loved those movies, too…”

“I am your father!” Matviy yelled, sounding nothing like the dark lord. A few people turned and looked their way, laughing at him. Not really knowing why, he laughed back before returning his attention to the cabinet.

He looked over to Alexa, who stared lovingly at the screen in front of her. He thought that maybe she was crying, but couldn’t be sure with all of the lasers and lights that were flashing across the arcade.

“My parents are back home in Ukraine. Are your parents here?” Matviy asked Alexa.

“Ah, uh, my dad,” Alexa said. “Mom’s uh… no longer with us. Sorry, I can come back later for this. Shit, I know it’s early, but want to start on the drinks now?”

“Uh yeah. Drinks. Like, Coca-Cola?” he said, knowing full well that wasn’t what she meant. It was only a few hours before the draft. That he had already stolen an id and snuck in was bad enough. Now, drinks? Although, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t drank before. Many times he had passed around a bottle of vodka with his comrades, as well as occasionally sharing a drink with family during special occasions.

Maybe a few drinks wouldn’t hurt….

“Alcohol, of course,” she rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’m going to get a tequila sunrise and then play arcade games for the next, uh,” she checked her phone. “... damn, it’s already one? Six hours, then. I have to change into my draft dress too, and dad’ll kill me if I’m not early. Are you joining me for a bit?”

Just then, Matviy realized something. While his brain was able to come up with a complex, albeit foolhardy, plan to get to this point, he had forgotten something equally important. So, he did the universal sign for anyone in this situation. He pulled his pockets inside out and looked at Alexa, uneasily. “I’m sorry. No money.” He looked as though he might break out into tears.

“Good thing I brought extra cash,” Alexa snorted, digging through her purse and pulling out a bundle of cash. “You know, I should keep this in my wallet. Oh well,” she shrugged, approaching the bar. A minute or two later, she returned with two tequila sunrises, handing one to Matviy. “Alright, let’s get gaming!”

------

Six and a half hours later

Of course, Alexa didn’t have a hotel room or anything of the sort. She wasn’t spending the night, after all, and had only arrived today. So she’d found a bathroom to change in quickly, after finding her father again and getting her dress and heels.

Now, inside the Sphere, she adjusted her dress slightly. This might just be the nicest thing she owned, a silver dress that had been custom tailored just for her. She rubbed her temples slightly, too; who knew that six or so hours of tequila sunrises, or screwdrivers and moscow mules and appletinis could give one a headache? Actually, she still felt a little bit buzzed. Walking in a straight line was proving an exciting challenge, too. She glanced around as the other draftees were filling in to the back room, getting ready before taking their seats with their families or friends.

Somehow, things went ok. With the tact of a teenager stumbling through the door and proudly telling his parents that “no, I am in fact not drunk”, Matviy managed to find his way back to his hotel and get into his room. Even if it might have taken him 5 or 6 swipes of his card before hitting the target. Dmytro, who was now up and about, had his jacket on already. He eyed Matviy suspiciously. “Where have you been?” he shouted at him in Ukrainian. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

“I lost track of time,” he said, somewhat slurred but not noticeably so. He showered and attempted to sober himself somewhat, staring at himself in the mirror and giving himself a few slaps.

After changing into his suit, he waited for Dmytro to use the bathroom so that he may place his ID card somewhere believable, that it may have somehow magically jumped out of his wallet that was in his jacket in the closet. A last little bit of that Vegas magic.

What a day it had been, and the most exciting part about it hadn’t even happened yet. As he entered the room that the draftees were all gathered in, he glanced around and recognized a few faces. From the brochure. He certainly was glad he decided to look at it in the end. There was one face he didn’t see though, and he began to worry. Where was Alexa? Did she manage to get back to her hotel alright? He knew he should have walked with her back to her room, but she insisted she was alright. She definitely looked like she knew how to handle herself if anything happened. It was then that something caught the corner of his eye. A shimmer of light. He turned. The lights had bounced off of her silver dress, It was her. She was talking to someone, presumably her father and he laughed to himself. “I am your father!” he thought.
He might’ve walked over to her then, to say hello, but she turned and caught his eye.

She waved, the smallest of possible smiles on her face, and then she was gone, with her father, to the seats. At the same time, the lights began to dim and the PA system crackled as the clock hit eight…