A/N: This is just something I wrote because I thought of it and if I didn't write it down it would kill me. The first chapter is not expected to be good, but once I have some time to think the chapters will change. For the better? You decide. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own IS.
Chapter 1: Prologue
Tommy was stunned by the beauty of the face that haunted him in his sleep each night. He remembered holding her, kissing her, just being with her. He knew that would never happen again. She was dead. Jude Harrison was dead. Or at least, that's what he'd thought. A few years back, Tommy had moved out to New York City. He had still kept in touch with Jude and come to work with her, but they rarely got to hang out out of work. It had happened when she was out on her second tour, just after her 18th birthday. She was going to move in with him when she got back, and had called him every night to see how the move was going. Then one day, she just stopped altogether. He figured she was just busy and would call him eventually. A few days passed, and everyone was acting really weird around him. Saying things like "I'm sorry, Tom", and "Is she going to be ok?" He finally decided to ask Kwest what was going on. Kwest responded by showing Tommy a newspaper headline. It talked about how Jude and everyone else who was in the tour bus had been in an accident and the conditions of Jude and a few other people were still unknown. He felt like his heart had been ripped out and handed to him with a steak through it. Jude--his Jude--was gone. He'd never picked up another tabloid from that day on. It was too painful knowing that he might open it and see that she really had died. He kept telling himself that she'd come back. That she'd run into his arms and everything would be ok. That's what he said every night before he went to bed and every morning when he woke up. That's what he went through his entire day telling himself for at least 2 months. After that, he just gave up. He stopped hoping, he stopped caring about anything else. He'd just lock himself away and not speak to anyone for weeks on end. What was the point? Jude was his life; his life was gone.
A/N: I know that was mostly rambling, but the rest of the story, as usual, will be better. Please R&R.