Somehow, a video had recently surfaced that had been shot years before, when Jake was still in the military.
It must have been shot by one of his military friends.
Jake was in full uniform, and he looked very young, arrogant and hardened.
She found one clip on YouTube that already had well over forty thousand views.
The title of the clip said:
Jake Novak Talks Crap about Suicide Victims
When it started, Jake was already in mid-sentence.
He was standing next to a large machine gun that was mounted on a crumbling wall.
Jake seemed to be chewing tobacco, holding a cup below his mouth and occasionally spitting into it.
There was a bulge under his lower lip.
“…You got to be kidding me,” Jake said.
“I’m out here risking my life for these people,” He looked directly into the camera, shaking his head.
“If someone decides to kill themselves, am I supposed to feel bad for that idiot?
They threw away their life because some kids at school picked on
them,
while I’m doing everything I can to stay the hell alive.
Damn, if you want to feel picked on and bullied, try coming to a foreign country and have people suicide bombing you and shooting at you from rooftops when you walk down the street.”
She paused the video for a moment to collect her emotions.
Raven felt sick.
There was a burning shame and rage inside her upon hearing his cold judgments.
What did he know about having been bullied?
How could he say what that could do to another person?
Maybe he would have liked to trade places with her in high school.
I’d like to see how you would have handled it, Jake.
I’d like to see what you’d do without your strength and good looks, your charm and your confidence.
You don’t know what it’s like to be ganged up on.
But maybe you’re about to find out.
Raven took a deep breath and pressed play again on the video, even though part of her could hardly stand to watch it after hearing what he’d already said.
Now someone was laughing off camera.
“Preach it, Jake!” Another person called out.
Jake continued, seemingly emboldened by the encouragement he had received off camera.
“My friends have been shot,” he said, “and one of my best buddies got killed by a damn roadside bomb.”
The guy behind the camera asked him an inaudible question.
Jake looked away for a moment, and then
back
into the camera, eyes blazing.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.
If you commit suicide, you’re a loser.
You’re a loser, okay?
It’s that simple, man.
I have no damn sympathy for someone that throws
their
life away.
Come here if you want to die so bad.
Come to damn Afghanistan, come to Iraq,
at
least do it for a purpose.
We got people here who would do anything to stay alive and you end it all because…who knows why people do that crap?
They’re full of excuses.
Maybe you’re being bullied because you’re weak.
Maybe you need to get a backbone.
I don’t think those people should be mourned or missed.
Screw them.
Screw you, if you try to kill yourself—I’ve got no sympathy.”
And then the clip ended.
Raven groaned and thought about replaying it, but then decided not to.
She didn’t want to hear him say any of that again.
It turned her stomach to see him talking like that, even though she knew he was probably just young and angry and maybe sad from seeing horrible things during his battles in Afghanistan.
People who watched this video now weren’t going to cut him slack, though.
They were absolutely going to rip him to shreds for those comments.
Way too many people had been affected by a loved one committing suicide or battled depression themselves.
And Raven understood better than most, what his words would do to someone who’d actually lived the things he’d so casually dismissed in that video.
Scrolling through news articles, Raven saw that
he was already getting blasted by the media
, and there was talk of Jake losing many of his sponsorship deals.
After all, his whole media presence was based upon this family-friendly, non-controversial image.
Now he’d turned himself into a very unlikeable figure, a guy who despised people that had reached the lowest point in their lives and felt no other way out than to end it.
He sounded like a bully.
And bullies were considered just about the lowest of the low at this time in history.
Raven got in the shower and tried to just let all the tension go away.
What was happening with Jake wasn’t her business.
He could take care of himself just fine, she told herself.
She, on the other hand, was still in plenty of trouble.
And then there was Skylar.
What would happen to her if the biopsy of the mass on her cervix came back positive for cancer?
These were real problems.
Jake Novak’s public relations debacle wasn’t a real problem.
And the way he’d made fun of people who had tried to take their own life because of bullying—it made her angry the more she considered it.
She wanted to call him out on his remarks.
It reminded her of all the people from her past and the way they’d once talked about her.
The callous, cruel nature of people who’d never been on the receiving end, only on the giving side.
Remembering those people from her past was upsetting.
She’d tried to leave it all behind when she’d left home at seventeen and now here she was, forced to relive it yet again thanks to Jake Novak’s irresponsible rant.
The longer she thought about it and replayed Jake’s comments in her mind, the angrier she became.
Getting out of the shower, Raven put on one of the hotel bathrobes, since she didn’t have any new clothes to change into (yet again!).
But she didn’t really care.
Leaving her hotel room, still soaking wet, she cinched her robe tight and strode down the hall until she reached his room, banging on the door loudly.
Eventually, she heard him muttering inside, and then his footsteps approaching.
When he opened the door, he was wearing only his boxer shorts and nothing else.
His body was so hard, muscles etched and cut as if he was made from stone, skin tight with just the slightest glistening of sweat around his chest and abdomen.
The almost nakedness of him surprised her, but she refocused on her anger.
“What’s up?” he asked, blinking, as if he’d been sleeping already.
“I watched the video,” she told him.
“What video?”
“You know what video.
The one that everyone’s freaking out about.”
Jake stood in front of the door, one arm outstretched, blocking the entrance.
His eyes were bloodshot.
“Raven, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”
“No,” she said, not caring that he was tired anymore, not caring that he’d helped out her friend far more than he’d needed to, not even caring that this scandal was probably playing havoc with his already overburdened mind.
“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow,” she said.
His lips tightened and then he dropped his arm and stepped to the side, making way for her to enter his room.
“Have it your way, then.”
“For once,” she said, walking briskly past him, trying not to feel silly in her puffy hotel bathrobe.
She was angry, she liked the feeling of self-righteousness—the confidence it was giving her.
Jake folded his arms, making his biceps flex and appear even bigger, as he stood there and waited for her to speak.
“Well?” he said.
“Say what you have to say, already.
I’m tired.”
“
You’re
tired?” she said, sneering.
“
You’re
tired?”
“Yeah, I am.
It’s been a damn long day.”
“Well I’m tired of your bullshit.”
Jake shook his head and turned away from her.
As he walked, he chuckled a little bit.
“Okay,” he laughed.
“Don’t walk away from me,” she said.
“I’m getting a drink, Raven.
You want something?
Water?” he asked, making his way to the fridge.
“No, I don’t,” she snapped.
He was trying to lull her with his kindness, trying to take the steam out of her, but she refused.
She was angry as hell and Jake wasn’t going to charm it out of her.
He grabbed a bottle of Evian from the fridge, opened it and took a few loud gulps. “I’m still waiting,” he informed her.
“That video of you is disgusting,” she said.
“Great.
Anything else?”
“How dare you judge people who’ve attempted suicide, or succeeded?
Who do you think you are?”
“I was a kid,” he replied.
“That video was made years ago when I was in the heat of my second tour in Afghanistan.
I resented that other people my age were going to college, having fun—I even resented their depression.
I was an idiot.
So what?”
“So what?” she said, throwing up her arms.
“So what?
Is that your brilliant public relations campaign?
Because if so, you need a new angle.”
Jake slammed the bottle of water down on the bar and crossed back in front of her.
A vein pulsed in his forehead.
“I didn’t ask for a lecture about public relations from a twenty-one year old ex-waitress.”
“Don’t forget social media coordinator,” she taunted.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked her.
His eyes searched hers.
“Don’t you think I realize how bad this is?
I haven’t answered my phone in hours.
I’ve got so many texts and voicemails that I’ve got not memory left in my cell phone to store them.”
“Oh, boo hoo,” she said.
“Am I supposed to feel bad for the megastar with too many voicemails?”
“No, I didn’t say that.”
He ran a hand through his hair.
“It seems like you’re trying to kick me when I’m down, Raven.”
“You don’t know what it means to be down, Jake.”
She glared at him.
“What did I do to you?” he asked.
“Did I send that video to you?
Did I ask you to watch it?
I don’t get it.”
Raven felt the red-hot rage boiling over as she thought about what was really making her so angry about what she’d seen him say on that YouTube clip.
She turned away from him and cinched her robe tighter.
“You know, I was one of those people.”
“One of what people?”
“I was one of those people you so casually insulted.
I was bullied in high school.”
She turned back around and faced him.
“I don’t think you could have made it through what happened to me.”
“Raven, I don’t have the first clue what happened to you,” he said, his voice weary, his eyes tired, his expression suddenly haggard.
“I know you don’t.”
She pointed at him.
“Look at you.
You’re great looking, with a hot body—athletic, strong—not afraid to fight if you have to.
You think everyone should be able to be like you, Jake.
Well I’ve got a newsflash.
Most people weren’t born with those kinds of gifts.
And women can’t just kick someone’s ass who makes fun of them.”
“I don’t see what any of this has to do with me,” he told her.
“You scoffed at people like me.
You said that we’re losers because some of us couldn’t handle the constant humiliation and harassment.
As if you even had a clue what it was like for anyone.”
Jake shook his head and walked back to the bar.
“Raven, you’re tired.
It’s been a long day—“
She followed him.
“No, I’m not letting you brush me off this time.”
He turned around.
“Stop following me.
I’ve had enough,” he said, the vein pulsing again.
His eyes were haunted, glaring at her with intensity that she didn’t even understand.