"Dark hair, just like his father." Emma Kennedy groaned, cradling her small son in her arms, sugar daddy sat beside her, the man, William Wolfe, holding his lady's hand. 

"It could always be worse, darling." He began, glancing at the child. "I could not want him."

The memo was taken, Jake Kennedy, at only three years old, was given up for a guiltless, money-filled life of pure luxury, without the anchor of a child keeping her stuck in one place. The nuns at the orphanage he was passed onto never told him much about his parents, and he never found out what had happened until age fifteen. Being the sickly kid he was, he needed a lot of tending to due to asthma and his moodiness towards the other children, which had the wonderful title of Borderline Personality Disorder crowned upon him.

At age eight, a seemingly kind family, Jean-Claude and Rosalind Calm and their four children came along and decided Jake would be a great new addition to the family. Despite all the well wishes and hopes for a good future, Jake had a bad feeling of it all. It started when he got to his new home, when he tried to talk to their oldest daughter, Beatrix, that he was pulled by the hair and locked in the closet for four hours in total darkness.

Day after day, he'd be forced into total seclusion until it had gotten to the point he refused to leave his room, which would get him no food and no communication with anyone, which was ensured due to the family tradition of homeschooling. When guests came over, they forced him to come out and socialize, which he never fully learned how to do and would often times earn him beatings, getting his hair ripped out and nights locked in the closet. The family had so little contact with him most days, they never knew he had started smoking and drinking just three years after he moved in with them. The drinking became excess at fifteen. Not only did his drinking habits pose a major risk, his stress brought on an eating disorder called pica, which would cause him to eat tulips and cigarette ash. Every time he became stressed, he'd buy a bouqet of tulips and eat  all of them.

At fifteen, he left with nothing except the clothing he was wearing and a few pieces of fruit at two in the morning. Hitch hiking got him from Clifton, all the way to the Isle of Man, a guard working at the ferry post when he showed up, all skin and bones with two bottles of vodka and brandy stuffed in his bag, the man immediately knew what was going on. He was taken in over night, before getting turned over on his own request to a boarding convent, The Mothers of Mercy, and ultimately was accepted. There it wasn't much better, the nuns taking their anger out on all the boys there, particularly him due to his irritability towards everyone else, especially the nuns. They would burn cigarettes out on him, force them to stand outside and say the rosary in the freezing rain.

Two years he stayed there, leaving after the only friend he made, Shannon Mayfield ( a boy ), had died from pneumonia after standing in the rain for two hours. On his own, armed with a spade, he had to dig a hole and drop his friend in it a few miles away from the convent, on a hill overlooking the ocean. 

At seventeen he left with a man willing to take and settle down with him in Switzerland, giving Jake a chance, now Jake Edwin Bugg, to try his hand at journalism. Maxwell Courier bought a cottage close to the Alps, the boy going to study printmaking and writing under Jurgën Axmann. In only a few months, Jake got an advice column in a German magazine under the penname Ruby Jones. 

It was a major success with women, giving fashion tips, romance advice and general life information. The column lasted a year before out of the blue, the column disappeared from the magazine without warning. 

What had actually happened to make him stop everything he was doing was entirely due to Max. After having spent a bit of time with him, Jake had gotten drunk off a third of brandy, which had rendered him quite useless. Max used it as an oppurtunity to have a go at making an advance on him. The kiss didn't process in his drunken brain, but the abruptness in his shirt trying to be pulled off. Jake panicked, but couldn't express it due to the hand covering his mouth. 

Without thinking, he grabbed the first thing he could lay his hands on, and smashed it over his attacker's head. It was a lamp. Blood splattered on his face as a shriek of pain left the older man, recieving his punishment for being so violent in the form of choking him. He didn't pass out, as the man ended up fainting from blood loss before any real damage could be done. 

Jake took an entire bottle of pills meant to quell his anxiety, in an attempt to keep it at bay permanently. Unfortunately, in his own opinion, the gardener happened to come early that day and found him passed out on the bathroom floor. No amount of slamming his own head against the wall would get what happened out of his head, finding himself unable to be physically touched anymore. Whenever a hand was raised in any form, even for a highfive, he'd find himself cower somewhat.

Ultimately, he filed a restraining order against Max before moving back to England for only two months, taking up another journalist gig at Clifton Inquiry. That was cut short when his friend, Kyle, happened upon him trying to get up the courage to put a bullet in his head. For the last month of his residence back in England, he was under a suicide watch and was forced to take five different medicines to try and 'fix' his emotional issues.

The last straw was when he attempted to hang himself with a belt in his closet while his new roommate, Miall, had gone to work, unbeknownst to him, his schedule had changed hours. Once again, he was briefly forced to visit a psychiatrist, otherwise he'd be made to go to a mental hospital.

Unwilling to better himself, nor allow his own talent or ability overshadow his constant self loathing, and personal blame for every bad thing that happened to him. To Jake, he deserved everything he was given. 

The only difference is now, his past isn't out for everyone to bear witness to.

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