Chapter Text
Blinking slightly, Shane took the moment reporters were focused on setting up their cameras to glare at the lights shining into his eyes. The conference area was set up next to a large window, but due to the clouds subduing the natural light coming down upon him it was determined, by someone who had a vendetta against him he was sure, that artificial light was required.
Now however, wasn’t the time to let the buzz of the electricity thrumming in said light get under his skin. Or perhaps it was, as it would distract him from what he was about to do.
He had been dreading this moment, ever since he had decided to do it two weeks ago. He remembered, vividly, the moment this plan had hatched, lying in bed enjoying the post sex glow he and Ilya enjoyed after first saying I love you to one another.
That moment had been so beautiful, so pure that Shane had wanted to capture it in resin so not even the air could touch it, that the world would stop just a moment longer so he could bask in the exalted feeling of knowing he loved and was truly, deeply, irrevocably loved in equal measure.
And it was in that perfect second of time, he had decided that waiting wasn’t possible, that the plan they had forged together needed to be scrapped. He had intended to re-broach the subject the next evening but then his dad had walked in on them, and sharing the new plan had been pushed to the back of his mind.
They had had a beautiful two weeks together, and only as Shane had driven away from the airport after dropping Ilya off did he realise that he hadn’t actually told Ilya what he was planning.
He had spent the next week and a half on calls with his agent Farah, and formulating how to take his next steps.
He was brought back into the present with a small clearing of throats as the reporters finally got settled, attention turning back to him.
“Goo-Good morning everyone.” Shane winced slightly at the microphone reverb that occurred at his first word, “I’d like to thank you all for taking time out of your schedules and coming to what may seem like a unprecedented event for me, calling a conference to talk about myself.” He smiled in the way he practiced for telling jokes to press, and heard a tittering of laughter in response.
“I’ve called you all here today as I have a few things I need to address with you all, before other sources do.” He took a deep breath, remembering why he was being vague to begin with, blinking sharply as the flash of a phone camera light went off unexpectedly as a novice journalist had forgotten to turn it off. Of course they would want a picture when he was looking frazzled.
“To begin with, I have terminated my contract with the Montreal Metros, effective immediately, and will not be continuing with them for the coming season.”
As predicted, the room exploded with noise, though even knowing it was coming didn’t stop Shane’s shoulders from tension on reflex. The same explosion of noise had been produced by the coaching staff of the Metros when he had brought this to them. At first they had laughed, assuming he was joking, then, when it was clear he wasn’t, they had started talking over each other with questions, ranging from confused to angry. He had waited them out, making steady eye contact with Coach Theriault, waiting for him to take the lead.
“Now why,” He had begun once the room settled down, “Would we let go of our star player, arguably the best Asian player in entire league, when he still has two full seasons on his contract?” The micro aggression didn’t slip Shane’s notice, but he ignored it, filing it away as another reason what he was doing was the correct thing to do.
He wished he could have corrected the man, stating he wasn’t the best Asian player but the best player in the league, instead he’d said “There’s going to be some information coming out about me soon, that potentially could ruin the dynamics within the team. I would never want to do something to endanger” himself “the metros, and I know it would be for the best if we parted ways before the news comes to light, so that it cannot be reflected back on the organisation.”
Theriault pursed his lips, looking him over “You haven’t fuckin done something to someone have you? Of all my players I never thought it would be you that I would be fielding this sort of mess for.” Shane had shook his head vehemently.
“No, no nothing like that. But I know where many people stand in this organisation, and while I can’t tell you what it is right now, I do know that there are going to be people extremely against it when it gets out. I am protecting” himself “those I care about here by choosing to step down.” He let out a tight smile, “And hey, if you decide when this comes to light that you want me back, I’m happy to resign. I honestly thought I would spend my entire career with the metros, but it’s because of them that I am requesting this.”
“Alright Alright, no need to get all soft and emotional on me Hollander.” Theriault had leaned forward and picked up his pen, signing the termination agreement Shane had presented him with, severing their relationship with a quick flick of ink.
Back in the present, Shane leaned into the microphone, the journalists quieting slightly in response, “So once this conference is over, if any teams are looking for a centre, my emails are open.” Hands shot up throughout the crowd, as Shane felt his pocket buzz, once, twice, a few more times in quick succession. So Ilya must be watching then. Or perhaps Hayden. Or a mix of both. He really should have told someone about what he was doing. Instead of dwelling on that, he pointed to one of the raised hands.
“Hello, Trent Crim, Ottawa Independent. You are currently on a streak of three Stanley Cups prior to your injury, captaining one of the best teams in the league and are in what some would argue is the prime of your career. Why would you choose to uproot that without, it seems, a team to fall back on?”
“Thank you for your question Mr Crim. As I said at the beginning of this I do have a couple things to address. I felt, knowing that this other information would be coming to light, that it would be best for me to make sure I was a free agent beforehand so that if situations were to sour beyond this, that my team would not be put in a position where they felt the need to distance themselves from me, and in turn making my job all the more dangerous.” He blinked, scanning over the room slowly, “Having a good team in hockey is built on a foundation of trust and respect, and I know that there are at least a few people amongst my team who will lose that with me after today.”
Shane smiled to himself as he watched the frantic scribbling and typing across the room. He had laid this foundation by design, making it seem as though what he was about to announce was some wrongdoing on his part. But when it was revealed, the true villain, the bigots, would be left scrambling to save face and explain why he had felt certain enough that things would go poorly for him in light of his revelation. They could either make a play to be better about their toxicity, or lose support. And Shane would be at a safe distance to watch.
He pointed to another hand, a younger woman with hair that reminded him momentarily of Rose. She held the same kindness in her eyes when she asked “So what is this other news that you are so apprehensive about?”
Time to rip off the bandaid. “First off,” or not, Shane thought, realising his nervousness was making him stall, “I would like to thank the people around me who have supported me in getting to this point, and for those that have inspired the courage needed to come forward to make this announcement today.” Deep breath, fuck it, no turning back. “I’m gay.”