Chapter Nineteen
chapter nineteen
“ G ot it. We can move on,” Garren said, flashing Jake a thumbs-up.
Today everything flowed with ease, and they were flying through the shots. The entire cast was starting to gel, and Jake could even tolerate Sloan. He was optimistic—about this film, about his career, and about Kat. He was acutely aware of every passing hour and the countdown until the day Kat would leave. Two days. Twenty-four hours. He looked down at his watch. Twenty-three-and-a-half hours to be exact. Every ounce of his being wanted her to stay longer, but he knew she needed to get home to Becca. He reminded himself they were still together, even when physically apart, and it helped to tame his anxiety about their future. Kat insisted they needed some sort of a plan, and Jake had promised that this evening they would discuss the inevitable.
The crew took a short break, so Jake had a chance to look at his script and reorient himself with the next scene. He’d been off book for a while, but Garren liked to jump around, and it helped to re-read the scene before and after. He looked up to see Savannah walking fast toward him, her face tight. Before she could reach him, Garren announced they would start again and asked for anyone not in the next scene to step behind the cameras. The next two scenes would be shot back-to-back, with minimal breaks, so everyone was to leave the principal cast alone. He watched Savannah’s face fall with a look of defeat. He gave her a curious look and shrug. He made a mental note to ask her when they were finished.
They made quick work of the next two scenes, or he thought as much. When Garren called the final “cut,” he realized they’d been focused for the past two-and-a-half hours.
Savannah scurried up to him, and he felt her hand on his back push him forward. “I need to talk to you, right now. Walk with me.” She started back toward his trailer. This was unlike her. Jake followed her and didn’t ask questions.
He was trying to read her face, but she stared straight ahead, eyes fixed in front of them. She was silent until they got to the trailer, but once they closed the door, she shoved an iPad in his face. “Read this.”
Jake looked down at the screen and saw what had prompted Savannah to get him away from the crew. He stared at his own face under a headline that read: TROUBLE ON SET: STUDIO LOSES $1 MILLION WHILE JAKE LAURENT HAS A MELTDOWN .
His ears started to ring, and stress rose in his throat. “What the fuck?” he said, his voice rising with anger.
He tried to keep calm as the fury surfaced, but every anxiety he had about never being good enough rushed back into his brain, firing multiple synapses at once. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t even form a sentence. He yanked open a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. He slammed a glass on the table and poured himself a shot. He gestured to Savannah to ask if she wanted one.
She shook her head no. He tipped his head back, and the alcohol burned his throat and the fumes flew through his nose. For a second, the feeling was a welcome distraction from the panic he was fighting. He poured another, but merely sipped this round.
“I didn’t have a goddamn meltdown,” he said, mostly to himself.
“I know, Jake,” Savannah said. “It’s stupid clickbait. If you read the article, it’s all speculation and hearsay anyway.”
Her pocket buzzed and she handed him his phone. He scrolled rapid-fire through his mounting text messages. He counted no less than fifteen texts from Cindy and five from Roger. He hadn’t gotten anything more than a good luck text from Kat all day. He presumed that she hadn’t read it yet. He checked the posting time—roughly three hours ago. He threw his head back and laughed silently. So that’s why Garren hadn’t allowed them any breaks. He’d known this would derail the entire day. He saw Savannah had replied to Cindy and Roger, letting them know he was in the middle of shooting a scene.
“Savannah, who do you think is the leak on set?” he asked. He was trying to focus on anything other than the fucked-up situation in front of him.
“Sloan. I guarantee it,” she said, her voice confident.
“Why?” he asked. “I know she thinks I’m an asshole, but that’s not a reason to try to destroy someone.”
“Because she’s a horrible person. Does she need more of a reason?” Savannah said, scrolling on her phone and taking screenshots. She stopped scrolling and looked up. “Listen, I heard this all thirdhand, and you know I’m allergic to gossip.…”
“Spit it out,” he said, the irritation clear in his voice.
“She’s having an affair with Jude Yarly,” she announced.
He gave her a look and raised his hands indicating that he didn’t understand. This was no time to be cryptic.
“He’s one of the executive producers,” she explained. “His wife has late-stage dementia, so if it got out that he and Sloan were together, enter the cavalry of cancel culture. The entire crew has been talking about the affair since she got here, which is why she leaked the story about you and Kat. It would make Garren clamp down on any more rumors getting out.”
This was the most Jake had ever heard her break down the culture of the set. He reminded himself to ask her for information more often. “Why leak this?” he asked, resigned. He didn’t need to know, but it was calming him down to focus on the why, not just what had happened.
“No idea, but certainly sleeping with a producer would give her inside information on the production schedule and studio budgets. My bet is on her, that diva bitch.”
Jake sat back and just stared at the article, contemplating what to do, but also stalling a bit before his brain would bring him back to the nightmare in front of him.
“Jake,” Savannah said, “Cindy and Roger are waiting. You need to call them. You want to FaceTime or just use your phone?”
He gestured to the iPad and scrolled through the contacts for Cindy’s number. He hesitated before dialing, his hands shaking. Talking to both of them made it real, and in his gut, he knew it was bad.
“I’ll leave you,” Savannah said, putting her hand on the door. “Jake, what I can do? What do you need?”
Jake tossed his phone to her. “Can you call Kat? Let her know what’s going on? I don’t think she’s seen it.” While he made a game plan with his team, he wanted to make sure she knew. He wanted … no, needed her near, as she was the one person who calmed him.
Savannah nodded and let herself out of the trailer to give him privacy.
Cindy answered on the first ring. “I’m here with Roger,” she said in a curt tone.
“Cindy, how bad is it?” he asked, his heart starting to race. He was hopeful this could be squashed or at least minimized.
“Well, it’s bad,” she said. “Unfortunately, it’s a slow news day, so this is spreading like wildfire. Everyone is picking it up.”
Roger jumped in. “Jake, I’m going to be honest with you, I already received a call from your upcoming production, and they’re concerned. They aren’t dropping you— yet —but they needed reassurance that you’ll deliver. Also, we’re still in contract negotiations with Ink Studios, which might get derailed.”
Jake spoke directly to Roger, “Wow, that’s my next project. This could fuck up my entire year. Are you kidding me?” He finished his second glass of bourbon and winced.
“It could,” he said. “And you will probably have to move from ‘offer only’ back to auditions. Studios don’t like to lose money, and this will make all of them think twice about hiring you.”
Jake could hear the disappointment in Roger’s voice, which cut him far worse than if Roger were angry. He felt ashamed, as if he were disappointing his own father. Jake ran his fingers through his hair. “Why the fuck is this happening to me?” It was a rhetorical question, but Cindy jumped in to answer it.
“People love idols, people they can put on pedestals, and then knock them down. It’s almost a sport, especially in this business. You’ve been the ‘it’ boy for quite a while, so I’m not surprised this is getting so much traction.”
Roger jumped in. “We have to make sure you don’t get painted as an unstable actor. If you lose fans or have a reputation that impacts how potential moviegoers see you, you’ll become less bankable, no matter how good you are. Remember Billy Castle? His cocaine overdose changed his bankability by 50 percent for at least three years.”
“You’re comparing me to a drug addict,” he said, raising his voice. This was unfair. He’d only had a few bad weeks. It was burnout, not a meltdown, and he’d pulled it together. He couldn’t believe a few weeks could derail the last nine years he had been building his career.
“There is one bright spot,” Roger said looking down at his phone. “I’ve been texting with Garren, and he’s going to personally call Art Savou, one of the producers of your next project, so that will help. At least a little bit.”
“Okay. That should help a lot, right? Not just a bit. It’s all speculation and rumor, so couldn’t it just die down?” Jake asked. He was grasping at straws, but this was worse than he’d imagined.
Both Cindy and Roger were completely silent.
Roger spoke first. “There’s more. And this is worse. Are you alone?” When Jake nodded, he continued. “There’s a leaked email from Garren to the studio, about you.”
“Fuck!” Jake said. “What did it say?” His ears started to ring as the panic set in again.
“The good news is that it hasn’t been published yet. The bad news is that it details the number of scenes that Garren would need to reshoot, the number of days they were behind schedule, and an estimated cost to the studio.” He went on, “Jake, it’s bad. It details a plan to replace you if needed.”
Jake felt bile rise up into his throat. This would absolutely destroy his future projects with any major, or even minor, studio. He wasn’t at the level of fame to survive this hit to his reputation, nor was he financially in a place where he could fund his own projects. But even more than that, he was ashamed that it was true. He’d put them behind schedule; he’d not delivered for the first time in his career. It was easier when he could focus on unsubstantiated rumors and a blip in the production schedule. But the reality of the situation was that he had set them back millions and was nearly replaced. It was a tough pill to swallow. He had to face his own shortfall.
“What do we do?” he asked, resigned.
Cindy put on her glasses. “Let’s start with what’s out there. To combat the rumors, we’ll get a quote from Garren about how great your performance is and hype up the film. We might convince the studio to release some behind-the-scenes footage.”
“And he’ll do that?” Jake asked, unsure of whether Garren would ultimately stand behind him. They were working well together now, but there was a time when Garren was planning to replace him.
“Yes. It’s not good for the box office to be surrounded by this kind of drama,” she said. “The data shows that negativity never translates to good numbers.”
Roger jumped in. “Jake, he already texted me that he’s preparing a statement with the studio on the power of your performance and your brilliance on set. He’s in your corner.”
Of course he is , Jake thought. We still have a lot of movie left to shoot, and he needs me . The realization reminded him of the transactional nature of relationships in the entertainment business: if I need something from you and you need something from me, we have a relationship. As soon as that dynamic changes, people disappear. He expected Garren to retreat from this situation immediately.
“Okay, that all sounds workable, but what about the email?” he asked. He ran his hands through his hair.
Cindy answered, “We know TMZ has the email, and my sources tell me they’re the only ones. There are a lot of people focused on figuring out how to keep this quiet. The studio does not want their documents, especially itemized budgets, in the press. There’s an entire machine built around this film, and it’s going to work on this.”
“Do you think it will get squashed?” he asked. He opened a drawer on the left and pulled out his cannabis. He’d been taking great care to stay off all substances in order to get his head together, but right now, he needed to tamp down this nightmare. After years on the road, where a quick fix was all that was tolerated, this was the best way he knew how.
“Honestly?” Cindy asked.
“Yes, honestly,” he said, not hiding the exasperation in his voice.
“Plan A is that the studio will try to keep it from being published. For TMZ not to release it, they will need something equally as good. Breaking this scandal will drive a lot of traffic, and therefore advertising revenue. It will take a lot to give them something as beneficial as this scandal. The studio is trying to offer up exclusive access to multiple projects under the studio umbrella,” she outlined.
“Do you think that will work? Plan A?” Jake asked.
Cindy took off her glasses and shook her head. “I don’t. I think it’s going to be a big ‘meh’ to TMZ. They’re going to use this email as a negotiation to get access to something just as valuable to them. It’s all about what will make them more money. Behind-the-scenes footage isn’t going to do it. Plan A, to me, is a necessary step to let the studios try, but it’s not going to work.”
“So, what’s Plan B?” he asked. He wanted to hear the answer, but he was also getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
She finally spoke after what felt like a full minute. “Jake, just don’t say no.… Don’t say anything yet. But you are sitting on the perfect story that I know, one thousand percent, if given an exclusive, TMZ would make a trade.”
He didn’t answer, taking a minute to think while loading his cannabis vaporizer. He put the vape pen to his lips and started to shake his head. He knew where she was going, but it wasn’t a route he wanted to take.
This time Roger spoke. “Jake, she’s right. This is a good idea. Don’t react. Just listen.”
Jake trusted Roger more than Cindy, so if Roger thought it was worth listening to, he would listen. He didn’t have to like it, but he would listen.
“Go on,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Plan B,” Cindy started, “is that we leak the story of you and Kat. Not just a leak, but a narrative of your new love helping you through some mental burnout—a young widow and her daughter. ‘Love after Tragedy’ … A celebrity with a new secret love affair? One that helped him through mental burnout? Who wouldn’t relate to, and more importantly, love this story? It’s positive, explains the rumors, and reframes your supposed meltdown as mental health. Mental health is very on trend right now.”
She continued, “We give an exclusive to TMZ in exchange for not publishing the email. This is a goldmine for them. The story will not only get a lot of direct traffic and social media shares, but it will also be redistributed by every major news outlet. The current story of your meltdown will get traction, but it’s negative and frankly, old news because it already leaked. Breaking a story about your love life will have at least twice the longevity. Whether you like it or not, your love life is a big topic, and whoever breaks that story is going to benefit in a big way.”
Jake was trying to process what Cindy outlined. “Kat will never go for it.”
“We can do it without her,” Cindy replied. “I have everything I need. She doesn’t need to know, and if you don’t confirm or deny the story, you’re not culpable either. We’ll release the minimum we need to get them to bite. I’ll make sure that TMZ reports it as anonymous, not coming from us. So, you don’t need to say yes, just don’t say no. You say no, and we have nothing to leverage to stop this email. You know I’m right. This will be hard to come back from, if you even can. Say nothing and we’ll only use it if the studio is unsuccessful. I won’t consult with you on the story or the details, and I won’t even show you the pictures. You won’t know anything so you can’t be at fault.”
“Where would you have gotten pictures?” Jake asked, his voice almost a yell. “Pictures of what?” Jake wondered if Cindy was behind the paparazzi that had started following him in Denmark. He knew she was good at her job and knew how to use the media to her advantage, but this seemed overboard.
“Jake, I have them. You two haven’t been as careful as you think,” she said. “I would rather not show them to you in order to keep you clean from all of this. Trust me. I will only use them if I have to. I will try to give them as little as I can.”
“Cindy, I don’t know if we’ll still have a relationship after this,” Jake said, his tone resigned. He longed to talk to Kat, to get her thoughts, but she was unbending and rigid, and he knew she wouldn’t even try to understand this option. If her reaction to an anonymous, blind tweet was to run away, he couldn’t imagine telling her this plan. And if she said no, he was out of options and his career was over.
It’s better this way , he told himself. They’re just leaking it early, before someone else does . He was trying to convince himself that this decision would be okay.
He was caught between two impossible choices. The first was to let everything he’d built over nine years go down the drain: the endless days, working into the wee hours of the morning at every director’s whim, just to put art into the world. He’d missed holidays with his family and endured a life with zero privacy. None of his sacrifices would mean anything. Acting was who he was, he didn’t know what he would be … who he would be without it. He pictured himself retreating back into community theater or worse, commercials, and his head began to throb.
But the second choice was no easier. Kat would feel betrayed, at least at first, and navigating her felt impossible. He did agree with Cindy on one thing: their relationship would not have stayed secret, and they should be the ones to control how and when it went public—not the paparazzi. Would navigating this option with Kat be tougher than losing his entire sense of identity and livelihood? He didn’t know if it was.
Cindy broke into his thoughts. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but it will be good for you, for both of you. Once Kat gets over the initial shock, she’ll come around. Someone was going to break the story eventually, so why shouldn’t it be you? You can use it to your advantage. Your story is so heartwarming, people are going to root for you both. I’ll make you the most loved couple in entertainment.”
He didn’t reply. He stared into his glass of brown liquid. Tapping his finger on the side, he contemplated a decision that would have lasting ramifications on his life, no matter which path he chose. Roger and Cindy were quiet, waiting for his decision.
Finally, he spoke. “Minimal information. Nothing about Becca. Keep Ben out of it. The narrative needs to focus on me and my issues. Do very little on Kat. Minimal, Cindy. I mean it.”
“You’re making a smart decision,” she said. “I will give them as little as I can to make this go away. A year from now, we’ll all be sitting around laughing about it.”
He couldn’t listen any longer, so he jammed his finger on “end call,” put his head in his hands, and let the tears flow.
K at stood with her arms crossed by the entry doors to the apartment building, waiting for Jake to arrive. She looked at her watch for the fifth time and tapped her foot. She could barely contain herself. She needed to physically lay eyes on him to stop the feeling of impending dread. She’d feel better once she could talk to him and help him gain some control of the situation.
She’d been at the Path offices, sequestered in a conference room, writing her section for this quarter’s board meeting. Once she’d finished, she’d FaceTimed Becca, realizing with all the intensity of yesterday that she hadn’t called her. She couldn’t remember a time when she went a day without hearing Becca’s voice. She couldn’t believe calling Becca had slipped her mind—her child had slipped her mind. She’d been beating herself up internally for the better part of the day.
When she apologized to Linda, she’d replied, “You must be having fun. Good for you,” which made her cringe. Yesterday had been emotional, sexy, and exhilarating, more so than she wanted to admit. She felt disconnected from home, as if she were on a vacation from her real life.
When she first saw Jake’s call come in, she hit ignore to finish her call with Becca. Becca was relaying, in detail, her day with the neighbor’s new puppy. She would have to call him back, because she wouldn’t cut Becca short.
A text had come next.
J: Hey Kat, it’s Savannah. Can you talk?
Her heart began to race. Something was wrong.
K: Yes, give me a minute. What happened?
Three dots flashed and showed that Savannah was typing.
Her screen had filled with screenshots of articles reporting on how Jake had become unreliable, cost the studio money, and one UK website even speculated that he had a cocaine problem. Kat hid her shock as she finished her call with Becca and Linda. Reading the articles, anger flooded her mind. How could speculation and rumors spread this quickly without a fact checker in sight , she’d wondered.
She’d dialed Jake’s number, her fingers trembling.
“Hey,” Savannah had answered after the first ring.
“How is he?” Kat had asked.
“As you can imagine, not great. He’s talking with Roger and Cindy now. As soon as they’re done, I need to get him off set. Are you staying at his apartment? Can you be there?” she’d asked with her typical air of efficiency.
“Yes, but I’m at work. I’ll head back now and wait for him,” she’d said, gathering her things and rushing out.
Now, while she waited at the door, she scrolled through all the news she could find on the story. She had to admit, it was terrible. She’d seen this unfold before in her own company. A hit to your reputation, especially regarding your ability to deliver, was derailing, if not devastating. She felt a twist of emotions in her gut as the car pulled up. She felt relief, but also an anticipatory feeling akin to the moment between a lightning flash and the first clap of thunder. She was holding her breath, waiting for thunder to crash around her.
She took a few steps toward the car, and Savannah opened the door and jumped out. She peered into the SUV and saw Jake sliding toward the exit. His eyes were red and glassy, and he still had makeup on from the shoot earlier. He was in an altered state, and she could smell the booze on him as he stumbled out. Peering in his eyes, she could see he was high as well. Before he could speak, she wrapped her arms around him, just for a minute. She nodded at Savannah and watched as she retreated back into the vehicle.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. Gone was the overconfident, wise beyond-his-years Jake, replaced by a twenty-five-year-old thrust into public life, who sounded hesitant, nervous, and utterly defeated.
She guided him into the building. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” she reassured him as they climbed the stairs.
“No, Kat. It’s not. I fucked up. You don’t even know the half of it,” he rambled.
She’d forgotten this side of him—the manic, dramatic Jake who could slide into a black hole and struggle for air. She could see him drowning in his own self-loathing. They were two floors up when Jake spun around and sat down on the stairs.
Kat tried to get him to stand up and keep moving, but he was determined to stay right there. She plopped down next to him on the step.
“Kat,” he started, “promise me, no matter what happens, you won’t hate me? At least not forever.” His voice slurred. He lowered his head and started to shake it slowly. “I know it. You’re going to hate me,” he rambled and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“Why would I hate you, Jake? It doesn’t matter to me. The fame, the notoriety, any of it. You matter to me. And I know you’ll get through this— we will get through this.” She hoped her words would help him understand that she really believed he would come out on top. Even if it became a bump in his career, it wouldn’t ruin him. Maybe less famous, but would that be a bad thing? Kat didn’t think so. I’d prefer it if he was out of the spotlight, she thought .
Jake didn’t reply. He just looked at her in a way that instantly brought back the feeling of dread she was trying to control. It was a look of resignation, shame, and sorrow. She wished she could open up his brain and see what he was thinking, because the look on his face absolutely scared her.
After what seemed like over a half hour, she coaxed him upstairs and into the apartment. She took him straight to the bedroom, took off his shoes, and once Jake lay down, he either fell asleep or passed out. Kat wasn’t sure which. She was just happy that he looked a bit more peaceful.
She went out into the living room and sat down on the couch. She tipped her head toward the ceiling and drew in a deep breath. She needed to find a way to help him. Her mind raced … she had to find a way to fix this … the couch vibrated and she jumped at the feeling—she’d forgotten she’d slipped Jake’s phone into her pocket when Savannah had passed it over to her. It was his mom calling for the third time that hour. She hesitated, but after taking another long breath, she hit accept.
“Hi Jill, it’s Kat.”
“Hi, Kat. Is Jake alright? I’ve seen the press. He has to be devastated. Is he there? Can I talk to him?” she asked, and Kat could hear the concern in her voice.
Kat was curious that Jill didn’t seem at all surprised when she’d answered Jake’s phone. “He’s pretty upset. He’s not in any shape to come to the phone. He’s sleeping, maybe passed out. I’ve never seen him this rough,” she confessed.
“I can only imagine. I was shocked when I saw the rumor of a meltdown. I talked to him yesterday, and he was so happy,” she started. “He told me about you, his new projects, and he was in a good headspace.”
She had a surge of pride realizing Jake had taken steps to reconnect with his mom after their conversation. “He was. I mean, he is. He hit a rough patch a few weeks ago, but really nothing more than burnout. He pushed himself so hard, he was literally breaking apart,” said Kat, happy to confide in someone.
She shook her head, remembering the Jake she’d first encountered in Copenhagen. He’d been broken, unsure, and disconnected from everything and everyone. A sensitive soul, lost in the expectations of others and the unrelenting chase of fame. She’d witnessed Jake claw himself out of the darkness, and now, she was watching him fall back right back into that murky black hole.
“That’s Jake. He’s all or nothing. He’ll practically destroy himself to get something he wants. He’s always been that way,” she said. “When he was a kid, it was hard to watch the intensity with which he navigated life.”
Kat could only imagine, as a parent, the challenges they faced to raise this creative and complicated human. Opening up to the one person who understood, she said, “I love him, but he scares me.”
“Me too,” his mom said with an audible sigh. “Kat, I was thrilled when he told me about the two of you. I had my suspicions once, but I had no idea you were together now.” She paused, “Given what’s happening, I feel better knowing you’re there with him.”
They chatted a little while longer, and Kat hung up the phone. Before she could walk to the bedroom to set his phone on the nightstand, her eyes caught a text alert.
C: It’s done.
C: You can thank me later.
What’s done? she pondered as she set the phone down. She had a sinking feeling there was a lot about Jake’s situation that she didn’t know. What really happened—and what had they done?