I’d seen what happened to other athletes who’d come out. I’d heard the invasive questions, the speculation about their personal lives, and the way some reporters seemed to think someone’s sexuality was fair game for any kind of questioning. I’d watched interviews where grown men had been reduced to defending their right to exist, to play, and to be taken seriously.
What if that’s what this turns into?
But then I thought about Jacks. I knew he was watching from Barbacks with Finn and Mark and Benji—and half the gay world crammed in shoulder to shoulder. I thought about Tyler and Erik, who’d threatened anyone who didn’t support me. Finally, I thought about my parents, two incredible humans who’d raised me to believe that love was love and that being honest about who you are was never something to be ashamed of.
Whatever they ask, I can handle it. I have to. For everyone I love, I have to.
The room was smaller than it looked on TV, withharsh fluorescent lighting that made everything feel clinical and exposed. The podium sat at the front like an altar. A table long enough for two folding chairs sat to one side. Microphones clustered above the podium like some kind of technological bouquet.
I walked to my seat behind the table, the familiar setup I’d done hundreds of times before, but this time felt different. This time, I wasn’t only here to talk about power plays or defensive zone coverage or what we needed to work on before our next game.
This time, I was here to change everything.
“Good evening, everyone,” Kevin said, stepping up to his spot behind the podium. “Captain Shaw is here for his post-game availability. As always, please identify yourself and your outlet before asking your question. Captain?”
This was the moment.
The point of no return.
I stood up and walked the three steps to the podium, scanning the faces in the room. These were people I’d known for years—beat reporters who covered the team, local sports anchors, and writers who’d followed my career for as long as I could remember. Some I liked, some I didn’t, but most had been fair to me.
Will they still be fair? After tonight? When theyknow the real Skyler Shaw?
The reporters looked up at me, pens poised over notebooks, recorders ready. Someone in the back row was setting up a camera. Everything looked like every other press conference I’d ever done.
“Actually,” I said, my voice sounding steadier than I felt, “before we get to questions, I’d like to make a statement.”
The room went dead silent.
The guy setting up his camera froze and stared over his shoulder.
The woman in the front who’d been scribbling in a notepad stilled her pen.
I could see the confusion ripple across the room like a wave. This wasn’t how post-game press conferences worked. Players answered questions about the game, maybe made a brief comment about an injury or an upcoming road trip. They didn’t make statements.
Unless they were being traded.
Or retiring.
I’d only been in the league for a few years, and I was playing at peak level. The Lightning weren’t about to trade their captain, and there was no way I was retiring.
An injury? That could be a big announcement.
But there hadn’t been one. The worldwould’ve seen it. The medical team would’ve made statements. Coach would’ve commented in his own presser.
No, they knew this was different, significant in ways they were only about to learn. The anticipation of something new, something far juicier than the normal hockey gibberish, had the assembled reporters salivating before I said my next words.
Kevin looked nervous but nodded.
We’d talked about this. He knew what was coming.
The silence stretched out, heavy and expectant.
I could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights, the distant sound of the arena cleaning crew getting started, and my own fucking heartbeat thundering in my ears as though Thor was hammering away, trying to escape my rib cage from the inside out.
Here we go. Let’s see what kind of people you really are.
I gripped the sides of the podium and looked into the camera that I knew was broadcasting this live to anyone who cared to watch. I imagined myself speaking to the guys and gals at Barbacks.
