Summary:

“I simply think it's paramount to remember,” Shane sharpens his gaze and directly pins the camera with a steely gaze. “That the Metros wouldn't get where they are without me. See you at the play-offs. Goodnight,” The microphone switches shut, cameras flashing in rapid succession, and Shane gives them the cockiest smirk he could muster before walking towards the exit, shoulders shoving a journalist aside as he stumbles and nearly smashes his camera against the edge of the stage panel. Enough was enough for Shane Hollander. With a contract to burn and enough rage stewing in his stomach—it was about goddamn time he said something.