A/N Hey you guys, long time no see!

I haven't written a new fanfic for Instant Star for a while, so lets hope you remember me! This is set in an alternative universe, so erase everything you know about Jude and Tommy together. This is something completely different. Let me know what you think!

Chapter One

Jude took a small sip from her black coffee, irritated. One too many late nights out trying to stay famous, she guessed. She gave her blonde hair a toss, and collected the newspaper from the arm of the sofa, simutaenously setting down her beverage on the coffee table in front of her.

Jude had always liked to multi-task. Sure, the natural clumsiness had made it difficult, but fun nonetheless. There was nothing better than belting your ballad out to the audience, grinning cheesily and grabbing a handful of strings all during the same nano-second. Those were the days.

"Morning, Miss Harrison," her agent greeted her warmly as he swept into the room, a flourish of purple and denim.

Jude had to resist scrunching up the Arts and Leisure page and throwing it at Pierre. Instead, she ground her teeth and turned the page.

"I wouldn't bother with Page Ten, if I were you," said Pierre, all-too cautiously. Naturally, Jude flicked to the dreaded gossip column and scowled.

JUDE AND TOMMY - ITS ALL OVER!

"I warned you," replied Pierre softly, settling beside her with a steaming cup of cappucino. "Don't stay I didn't. But you'll have to just deal - you have an interview at 2."

"With Tom?" she asked carefully.

"No," Pierre answered. "Alone, with Vedette magazine. So you had better declare yourself single and uninterested, quick, or you'll be dealt several hundred reconciliation questions."

"Oh," was all Jude had to say. She scanned quickly through the article. Teen-pop sensation and big-time boybander, yadda yadda yadda...

"There's no rebound girl, don't worry," said Pierre, suddenly spotting Jude's furrowed brow.

Jude looked up quickly. "I wasn't... I mean..." She didn't finish her sentence. "Good. Let him die alone." She dropped her head back down to Current Events. Pierre slipped her a sideways smirk, then pencilled something in to his diary.

The interview had gone horribly wrong. Jude had always hated journalists, especially those who wore their stick-straight hair in a tight bun exposing the veins on their forehead, and smiled eerily as they chirped "Hi, I'm Molly. Are you ready for your interview with Vedette Magazine?", but this time it was even worse. Jude had kept to Pierre's rules - no telling about your exit from G Major, and no ideas of reconciliation were to be encouraged - but she'd managed to make an ass of herself by accidently revealing an (imaginary) new boyfriend called John-Paul from her vacation in France. Vedette didn't have to know he wasn't real, did they?

But Jude and her made-up John-Paul had dug her into a large hole. Now, spread across every tabloid in Canada was - JUDE'S SECRET AFFAIR! Pierre wasn't pleased.

"How could you be so stupid!" he yelled, back in his office. "Now the nation will be feeling sorry for pretty-boy Quincey, instead of feeling for you. You're going to be the face of this break-up, do you realise that? It will be your fault!"

"Well, maybe it was my fault!" Jude screamed back. "I mean - no single for four months, no charity work for three months, no photoshoots for two and half - I'd disappeared off the radar. Maybe I'd dropped off Tommy's too."

"You'r going to get back on that radar," declared Pierre, firmly. "You are going to earn back the public, the hard way. As they say - get famous or die trying."

"How?" asked Jude, angrily. "Its not like I have the studios at G Major anymore."

"Yes, thanks to your little diva parade, we're banned," said Pierre. "You're just lucky I got you an audition."

"For what? American Idol?"

"No." Pierre dismissed Jude's outburst immediately. "For a sitcom."

Pierre's ears had been burned by Jude's reply to his idea, but somehow he had managed to drag Jude to the audition anyway. Winners never quit, and quitters never win, he'd reminded her, and she had scowled. Yet she stood here in her scuffed Converse and Motley Crue vintage t-shirt. And, obviously, jeans. Alone, as Pierre had said auditions gave him jitters.

Some agent, Jude thought irritably, as she stood in line behind three Texan triplets. All she had been told is that she was auditioning for the role of "Remy Fenshaw" a rock-and-roll queen, in the up-and-coming sitcom "You Gotta Love the In-Laws." Jude was only a zillionth in line, and was desperate for the bathroom, but she held tight, and slipped her IPod in.

"Oh my God, you're Jude Harrison!"

There went the peace.

"Hey, Jude! I'm totally on your side over the whole Jommy break-up! You rule!"

"Hey, Jude, did you really cheat on Tommy with some guy from Europe?"

Jude felt like yelling to the heavens, but then her wrist was grabbed sharply, and she was being pulled through the gathering crowd.

She was soon at the front of the queue, and the subject of many jeers. Jude finger-combed her bangs over her forehead, and followed the guy who had pulled her forwards.

"Hey. Hey! You!"

The guy turned around, and Jude was shocked at once. His eyes were a penetrating blue - so blue, that it hurt to look at them. His blonde hair had been cut short, and it looked like if you ran your hands through it, your fingertips would only receive a light tickle. Not that Jude had any ideas about running her hands through anybody's hair right now...

"What?" he asked. "Dontcha want your audition, Harrison?"

Jude didn't like his attitude. "It's Jude," she corrected, and caught him up as he began walking again. "Who are you? Why did you drag me to the front of the queue?"

"I didn't drag," he spat. "You came willing enough." Jude stared at him for a second, before returning to her usual scowl. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm a writer on the show - word perfection is my passion. I'm Finley. Finley Coarse. Do you want your audition or not? We're very excited about your audition, Jude."

Jude crossed her arms before rolling her eyes. "Fine," she said.

"There's my girl," replied Finley, and before Jude protested, he demanded "Crack a smile, or you'll be thrown outta here before you speak a word."

Jude spread her lips obediently, and followed in silence. She was told to pick up a script, and sit on the stool. Her potential co-star would be along within the minute.

"Well, well, well." Jude heard a familiar voice as the door to her right swung open. "Look who's come crawling back."

And holding an identical script, was none other than Tom Quincey.