Full summery: When Jake leaves Bella because he feels that she's holding back his career, Bella is insulted and unhappy. But when the chance for revenge is delivered in the form of talent spotter Jasper Hale, Bella jumps right into action. After all, Revenge is a dish best served in Hollywood.

A/n: No idea where this came from. Have been very, VERY stressed and busy and such lately, so I've not been able to update my other stories, but I will very soon. Promise! I just really fancied writing this down and starting to post it first. I'm in the mood for some vengeance!

Bella POV

A simple 'I don't think we should see each other anymore', or a 'it's not you, it's me', might have been better than a fully fledged explanation over exactly why Jacob could no longer date me. His plain, clumsy high school sweetheart; who was absolutely sure she was going to be married to him one day.

"Bella", he'd said, "Bella, baby! It's not you, it's just that you don't have the right look, you know?"

"No, Jake. I don't know!" I'd replied. Was I not pretty enough for him?

"Look, honey", he'd continued. "I think you're beautiful and all…but if I'm going to be a famous actor…I need a trophy girl!"

Apparently so.

"A trophy girl?!" I'd roared back, and soon after I'd managed to force him out of the house, with false promises that I'd let him come back and talk to me once I'd 'calmed down'.

But I had no intentions of ever calming down.

'How dare he?' I'd ranted and raved in my head, for days following that fateful evening. 'How very dare he?'

Apparently some 'exotic' girl from the reservation, Leah Clearwater, was more the 'standard' of girl he was looking for. Of course; he'd even shown me a photograph. Glossy black hair, tanned skin, come-to-bed eyes, and a figure to die for. No wonder he'd chosen her over me, plain old Bella Swan, who's only talents were the ability to blush on command and trip as soon as move.

Plus, I now had no qualifications. Having skipped college in order to help look after Jake's dad in his last few years. Now he was dead, I was dumped, and I had absolutely nothing to show for it.

Unless you count the millions of stories I'd written during my time out of school, and the ability to learn lines I'd picked up from Jake, whilst I helped him practice for auditions.

Auditions he'd rarely ever had call-backs for. At the time I'd comforted him. Now I just thought 'serves him right, the bastard!' to myself.

Now it was three months after Jacob had left me, and I was staying with my best friend, Angela, and her husband Ben at their flat in Seattle; having locked up my old flat in Port Angeles, and escaped from the ever-ringing phone and doorbell - courtesy of the man himself.

It had taken three days, but Angela had finally managed to coaxed me into 'going out and having some fun' with her and Ben. Which basically meant I was going to be the third wheel. Joy.

I wasn't ungracious though, far from it, I just wanted some time to mope around and be a cow. I'd been thoroughly insulted, and hurt, and now I was damned unhappy. Despite staying with the most fantastic people on the face of the earth.

But there I stood, before my mirror, grimacing at the handkerchief-like backless top, and skinny jeans that Angela had leant me, and feeling sorry for myself and my appearance; three minutes before we were to meet at the front door, to go to the newest club in the city. I decided not to bother with make-up. It wasn't as if I'd ever been bothered before. Jake always seemed to like my natural appearance, and I'd had no need to impress anyone else. So I ignored the box of products Angela had left on the counter for me, and headed towards the door, where I found my best friend looking stunning in a short black dress, her arm hooked through Ben's. They were making go-go eyes at each other, and I wondered whether me and Jake had ever looked like that.

"Ready to go, Bells?" Angela called to me happily. I grunted back, and she just giggled and hooked her free arm through mine. We walked down to their car, Ben held both our doors open like the perfect gentleman he always was, and we sped off into the night.

A/n: Uh, yeah? Review? Shall I continue?