Okay, so here's a little something I've been drabbling with while I bust my ass for exams and stuff these last few weeks. It started out as an idependant story based on Instant Star, but then I decided, "hey, why not make it AU?" So I did.
Just a few quick things to go through, since it is an Alternate Universe of IS. Jude and Sadie, they're twins as stated in the summary. As for who to picture as the actress, Alexz Johnson, and Jude is blonde whereas Sadie is a redhead. Also, Kyle is their brother in this universe, and their parents have passed away.
Also, there are ages...as follows.
Jude & Sadie Harrison - 17 years old
Wally Jones - 17 years old
Kyle Harrison - 19 years old
Vincent Spiederman & Jamie Andrews - 18 years old
Tommy Quincy - 24 years old
Mason - 23 years old
And others will be mentioned in the story if need be.
Without further babbling, I present to thee my AU Instant Star series: "Trials of Music". Enjoy the beginning of Season One.
Episode One: The New Producer
There are plenty of people out there who wish that they could be popular, or famous, or have money and be known by a whole shitload of people. Well, I've got a message for them: be careful what you wish for. Yeah, I know it's cliché but trust me, if you've been through half the shit I have, you'll know it's no walk in the park.
And the day we got our new producer was only the beginning of our walk down the streets of hell…
-- Jude.
Thursday, May 22nd
"Sadie, come on, we're gonna be late!" 17-year-old Jude Harrison shouts up the stairs, impatiently tapping her fingers on the banister as she waits for her sister. Her other hand runs lightly through her hair, which falls in waves to the base of her shoulder-blades, and is a platinum blonde shade.
"Sorry, I can't find my keys!" Sadie Harris calls from somewhere upstairs. There is a loud crash, a baby curse word, followed by some shuffling.
"What the hell are you doing, getting an elephant to help you look?"
"No!" another loud bang. "Looking in the moving boxes!"
Jude sighs. Their parents, Victoria and Stuart Harrison, died in a car crash three months ago, and the two girls, along with their 19-year-old brother were forced to move out of their house with too many memories and into a newer, smaller one.
It's been three months, and still they hadn't unpacked everything.
"Hey, Jude, you two coming or what?" Kyle Harrison asks, poking his head in through the front door. His bleach blonde bangs fall into his face, covering his blue eyes.
"Well, Sadie lost her keys," Jude rolls her blue eyes. "Again."
"Uh, no she didn't," he states, swinging his hand into the house and showing her the keys dangling from his fingertips. "I've got 'em."
"Thanks for telling us," she bites irritably, turning her head to the stairs again. "Hey, loser, Kyle's got your keys! Let's go!"
"What?" Sadie inquires, thundering down the stairs, her straight and shoulder-length red hair wiping about her face as she does. She pauses on the last step, and her blue eyes shuffle between her brother, and twin, who is older by two minutes.
She then spots her keys in Kyle's hand and frowns. "How'd you get those?"
"Uh, walked into your room, picked them up off your dresser, and walked out," he states. "Very simple math."
"Didn't you fail math?" Jude teases. He attempts to swat her on the back of the head, but she ducks it.
"Tease," he sticks out his tongue at her, before disappearing outside. Jude and Sadie exchange glances, shrug, and then follow. They find their brother already at the helm of his navy '67 Chevrolet Camaro, which is happily purring away.
Sadie reaches for the door handle of the passenger's seat, but Jude makes it first, opening the door to block her. "Nope, sorry, kiddies sit in the back."
"Kiddies?" Sadie frowns. "We're the same age!"
"Yeah, but I'm two minutes older," she smirks, sliding into the passenger's seat and popping the back door open. "Which means you get the back."
"Awe, but it stinks like moldy cheese back here!" the redhead whines, getting in.
"Excuse me?" Kyle gasps, faking a hurt look. "You take that back!"
"What! It does!"
"Does not!"
"Does too!"
"Does not!"
"Guys!" Jude snaps, regaining their attention. "New producer today. G-Major hates tardy artists. Bad things will happen if we don't get our asses on the road in this piece of junk!"
"Hey!" Kyle yells. "First the smell, now the name-calling. You guys are lucky to be family…or else. Nobody insults my baby."
As he backs out of the driveway to their townhouse, patting the dash board with one hand, both his sisters laugh.
"And that," Sadie begins.
"Is why you don't get girls, Kyle," Jude finishes teasingly, just before avoiding a well-aimed strike at her head.
"Fashionably late as always," an 18-year-old guy with unruly and light brown-orange hair smirks as Sadie and Kyle walk into the lounge at G-Major. He sits on one of the sofas, stretched out, a guitar lying on his stomach, just within his reach. His smirk grows as Jude comes in just behind her siblings. "Except for Jude, who couldn't be fashionable at anything."
"Oh, shut up, Spied," she bites back irritably, tossing a throw pillow at him, which he easily ducks.
"Hey, no damaging the hair of the kick-ass lead guitarist of your band," he taunts.
"Right, because if something happened to you, you're so irreplaceable."
"Ooooh, what got into you this morning, Harrison?" he laughs. "Is it sideways?"
"Don't make me use the first name on you, Spied," she threatens, and this shuts him up, because he hates his first name more than anything in the world. Except maybe Wal-Mart…because that place is just evil.
His real name is Vincent Spiederman, but people usually just call him Spiederman, or Spied for short, because he absolutely despises his first name. He's been lead guitarist for Jude, just as her brother has been drummer, and their friend Wally has been bass, for almost three years now. Occasionally, they've played as backup band for Sadie, but since her songs are more solo, mostly one guitar, and a whole lot of melodies she creates, they stick to their platinum blonde rocker.
As a smirk forms on her lips, Spied directs a glare at her through his green eyes.
"What has gotten into her this morning?" Wally inquires, sitting on a sofa beside Sadie and Kyle, a little ways away from the one the two teens locked in a heated glaring contest are on.
"Oh, she's just in a bad mood cuz we're getting a new producer and manager, which means no more hottie Mason for her to be stuck in a recording booth with," Kyle laughs, before a sofa pillow chucked at his head shuts him up. "Ow!"
"I heard that!" his sister yells, breaking her gaze from Spiederman to glare at her brother.
"Oh, come on, Jude," Sadie grins. "We all know you had the hots for him."
"Yeah, just go back to making chemistry with Spied so we can talk in peace," Wally finishes the teasing, and a look of pure dangerous anger crosses her face. "Uh-oh."
"That's it," she growls, getting to her feet and starting towards them.
Spiederman's reflexes are good enough for him to place the guitar on the sofa, and get up to grab her by the arms and stop her from going too far. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop her momentum, nor does she want to be stopped, and so, the two go crashing towards the floor. The other three laugh as they watch Jude fall, twist, turn and land on her back, having Spiederman land on top of her.
"Speedy?" she whispers.
"Yeah?" he grins cheekily, noticing how close they are, and that she used a nickname for him that's reserved for her.
"Get off me before I rip your jugular out," she deadpans.
"What's wrong, don't like—"
"Ahem," someone clears their throat, and everyone looks up to see the producer, Mason, who soon wont be their producer when he leaves with his band, standing there with another man, in his early twenties. "If you two aren't that busy, I'd like to introduce someone to you. Of course, not if you're in the middle of—"
"No!" Jude exclaims, pushing Spiederman off of her and sending him crashing onto his side as she springs to her feet, straightening out a ruffled piece of hair. As she smiles pretty for the non-existent camera, the brunet curses under his breath, slowly pushing himself to his feet and glaring at Mason.
"Alright, well, everybody, may I present to you your new producer and manager," Mason declares, motioning to the man at his side. "Tom Quincy."
"Omigod!" is the next noise to be heard, and it's high-pitched and girlish. Everyone turns to look at the redheaded Harris twin, who is standing up now, her eyes sparkling. "I knew I recognized you! You're Tommy Q. You were part of Boys Attack!!"
"Heh, yeah, I was," he grins, flashing a row of brilliant white teeth as his brown eyes focus on her. "I take it you're a fan?"
"Girl's had your poster on her wall since she was a little kid," Jude teases, making her sister give a sort of indignant squeak. "And all the CD's of your…"
She trails off when Mason sends her a warning look that tells her to hold her tongue and opinion. Having been her producer for three years, he knows she covers the punk rock and hardcore stuff of the family, while her twin has always loved classic music, pop and blues-y stuff.
"…wonderful boy band," she finishes lamely, and behind her, Spiederman snickers.
"Hey, I wasn't a little kid!" Sadie snaps. "I was thirteen, in case you didn't remember!"
"Now, now, girls, there's enough of me to go around," Tommy jokes, which brings an end to their bickering as their attention returns to him. "But hey, knowing I've got a fan amongst you gives me hope I can start off on the right foot at producing you girls…and guys. So…from Mason has told me, my guess is you're Sadie-Rose?"
The redhead blushes slightly as the 24-year-old takes a step towards her, taking her hand and shaking it, a smile flashing across his lips. "Y-yeah. Nice to m-meet you."
"You too," he nods, kissing the top of her hand, before moving to her sister. "Which means you're Jude-Alexandra?"
"Dude, call me Jude," she replies, crossing her arms to make sure he can't try that kissing-hand shit on her.
"As long as you don't call me 'dude'."
"Deal," she shrugs.
"I'm Kyle, their brother," the oldest Harrison sibling introduces himself next, shaking hands with the man. "Drums."
"Wally Jones, Bass," the curly-haired brunet is next up to shake hands.
"Cool," Tommy nods, before looking to Spiederman. "Which leaves lead guitarist, Vincent Spiederman?"
An awkward silence settles in over the group, and Tommy's offered hand goes unshaken as Spiederman raises an eyebrow. Mason coughs, but still the 18-year-old doesn't budge. So, Jude leans back on him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
"You'll have to excuse Speedy, he isn't exactly fond of his name," she grins. "We normally just call him Spiederman."
"Right, sorry," Tommy apologizes, nodding as he offers Spied his hand again. "Speedy, then?"
"Nice to meet you, boss-man. But only she gets to call me Speedy," he shakes his hand, wrapping his free arm around Jude's waist and pulling her close as he does. She widens her eyes slightly, but plays along, making a note to give him a look later.
"And this means you've officially met your new team," Mason declares, grinning proudly as he stands between Tommy and the teens. He sighs, looking at them. "Which means…this is goodbye."
"What?!" Jude exclaims, slipping out of Spied's grasp in shock.
"I'm leaving, you know that."
"Well, yeah, but…," she trails off weakly. "You said you weren't scheduled to go till next week."
"Supposed to, yeah. That's why I said I was gonna have the time to see you guys adjust to Tommy," Mason sighs, laughter sneaking into his words. "But my flight's been moved to five. It's why I said this was an urgent meeting."
"Mason," one of the management boys appears in the doorway next, calling to the producer. "Martin and Josh are here."
"Right, gotta pack up our stuff before--whoa!" he's cut off when Jude brushes past, storming off down the hall towards the studio hallway. "Hey, Jude! Jude, wait!"
Spiederman makes a move to follow the obviously torn girl, but Mason places a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't," he shakes his head. "I'll do it."
As he walks off towards the studio hallway, Spiederman glares at the back of his cowboy-hat-wearing head, and his hands slowly ball into tight fists. In his head, he pictures a little cartoon version of himself picking a giant hammer out of nowhere and smashing Mason into the ground, and going after Jude himself.
"So…," Tommy attempts to break the tension slowly settling in the group. "Who's up for pizza?"
Mason steps into the last studio of the hallway, and knows Jude's here just because of which studio it is.
"Night sky life," he comments, finding her huddled on the couch in the back of the room, staring up at the ceiling, which is painted to look like stars in the night sky. "Always been your favorite studio, hasn't it? I think you said…you said it was because it made you think of camping with your family when you were little, and how truly free it made you feel?"
"I…I said that like…once…," she whispers, refusing to look away from the ceiling.
"Yeah, but I remember it," he grins. Seeing that she refuses to budge, he sighs, grabbing her hand and tugging on it until she looks to him.
"What?" she snaps, attempting to sound mad, or indifferent, but ultimately showing all her vulnerability and sadness in one word. And oh, how she hates it.
"I'm sorry," he states simply. "I'm sorry that I said I'd never leave. I'm sorry that I said I had longer. And I'm sorry it's hurting you."
"Saying sorry's not gonna do anything," she bites back. "You're leaving."
"Yeah, and you shouldn't be this bothered by it."
"I can't help it, you know that!"
"You can."
"What, you want me to just forget about you? Pretend that for the past three years I haven't had the coolest guy on the whole damn planet as my producer and friend?"
"You know it doesn't work like that."
"Then what the hell do you want me to do?"
"Don't forget," he states, giving her hand a squeeze. "But let me go. This can't work. You know as well as I do."
"I'm the artist, you're the producer. I'm seventeen, you're twenty-three. I know how it works. I know it's not 'allowed'," she sneers, making air quotes with one free hand. "I'm not stupid."
"Jude…I know you're not stupid," he sighs. "I know you're far from it."
"Then stop talking to me like I'm a kid!"
"I am…because you still are," he states. She opens her mouth to respond, but he stops her. "You're seventeen. You're still young. You've got your whole life ahead of you, a whole life to find a great guy. One who can love you for the great girl you are."
He then smirks, looking over his shoulder towards the open door and the lit hallway, from where he can hear the group arguing about what kind of pizza they want, while Wally yells at Spiederman to give him the phone.
"Who knows, maybe that great guy's already around."
"I swear, if you're talking about Spiederman, then you may wanna let go of my hand," she states. "That is, if you value it."
He does as he's told, taking his hand away slowly, before both of them exchange a look, and burst out laughing.
"Look, Jude. I don't want to be leaving, I don't," he tells her. "But sooner or later we knew it was gonna happen. These kinds of things don't last forever."
"I know…," she whispers, sniffling away tears threatening to drop down.
She looks straight at him as he wipes said tears away with a hand. "I'm sorry…"
"I know…," she says again, leaning forward.
"Jude…," he stops her when she's mere inches from him. "We can't."
Despite the ache in her heart, she heads to kiss him on the cheek instead. She smiles weakly as she pulls away. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too," he states, hugging her tightly, before standing. He looks at her questioningly, and she leans back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling again.
"I'm…just gonna cool off a bit. Gaze at the stars," she smiles faintly. "I'd rather not go out there and face the music just yet. Or, y'know, Spiederman. He's probably got some jackass comment loaded on his tongue already."
Mason has half a mind to tell her otherwise, but knows it's not his place. He knows that his work is done, and the time has come for him to leave.
"Goodbye, Jude," he states, leaning over and lightly pecking her on the lips, before turning and walking out. She stares after him, eyes wide and a hand lightly touching her lips as she watches.
And just like that, with the shitty way her day is starting, and that the reign of a new producer is starting that her sister is already a long-time fan of; lyrics are sliding together on the edge of her mind.
Lyrics about the way he heart is aching and the way she's on the verge of tears.
How strong do you think I am?
How much can I take of this?
Am I a rock, or a rose, or a fist?
Or the breath at the end of a kiss?
And just like that, things seem a little bit brighter.
If only a little.
Author's Note:
So, what did you think? More to come with reviews of course, because I love hearing from my readers, whether it be comments, constructive criticism, or whatever. So go ahead and press that lovely little lavender button !