They call me Kane ‘the bullet’ Bryson. Sports enthusiasts say it’s for my speed in the pool, female fans say I can get them off faster than any battery-operated alternative. I’ll tell you it’s both with a wink and a smile. That is, until shit hits the fan. Trials are coming up for the national team and coach says I need to clean up my image. It would be easier if I didn’t have a nosy blast from the past snooping around for her next scoop. \\\* When I’m assigned to follow Kane Bryson’s shot for Nationals my first response is a resounding no. The bad boy of swimming doesn’t need any more press coverage, and this is one reporter who refuses to kiss his arrogant ass. When the decision is taken out of my hands, I decide it’s time to get creative. He broke me once, now it’s my turn to watch him SHATTER.