"Aubrey, you seriously need to relax."
The reprimanding voice came from above, and Aubrey glanced up from the laptop and papers spread around her. To both her surprise and mild irritation, the entire cast of Bellas were hovering over her with disapproving looks on their faces. It took her a moment to register exactly which Bella had been the first to speak (Stacie), but by the time she processed the comment, others in the group had gained courage of their own.
Even as she prepared a retort, she watched as multiple gazes shot downward, knowing they were looking at the half-full cup by her side. "Clearly, she hasn't had enough to drink yet," Amy announced, shoving a cup she had just poured in Aubrey's direction. "Here."
"Guys, I don't-" she began, attempting to turn down the drink even as her hand automatically clasped around the red plastic cup.
"Don't want to have fun for once?" Beca interrupted, seeming to be completely on board with the conversation as long as it meant ganging up on Aubrey.
"We made it through to Regionals!" Cynthia Rose chimed in, with several of the others nodding in agreement. "This is a cause for celebrating, not sitting in the corner overanalyzing everything."
Aubrey's lips settled into a thin line as she looked from one Bella to the next. Even Chloe was among the group, though she, at least, wasn't actively chiming in with thoughts of her own. "Regionals are going to be here before we know it," she argued, but the excuse sounded weak even to her. Her own mind provided an opportunity for compromise, saying, 'Just one drink wouldn't hurt' and as her eyes scoured the group once again, she could see that for once, she was on the losing side of the battle. "...Oh fine." Hand tightening around the cup, she lifted it and took a small sip before lowering it and raising an eyebrow as if to say 'there. I participated.'
"That so doesn't count," Amy said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Cap, chug it!"
She scoffed. "I do not chug," she said, eyeing the drink with distaste. "And besides, this tastes awful."
"That's because you're not drinking it fast enough," Amy explained patiently, earning a few chuckles from various members of the group.
She sighed, shutting her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. The drink had left a decidedly sour taste in the back of her mouth, but it was just one drink, and if it meant getting rid of the crowd around her... "If I finish this, will you leave me alone?" she asked.
"Scout's honor." Amy made a show of crossing her finger over her heart - not the proper way of declaring the phrase, but Aubrey was in no mood to correct her. Glancing around at the rest of the Bellas, she saw similar nods - most from people eager to not have her irritation directed their way. Her gaze lingered on Chloe an instant longer than the others before she raised the cup and tilted her head back, grimacing as the liquid ran over her tongue. Even though her mind caught up with what she was doing halfway through and nausea surged up from the pit of her stomach, she didn't stop until the cup was empty.
She ignored the cheers erupting around her as she slammed the cup down into her lap, focusing on fingers that trembled more and more with each passing second even as she willed them to stop. 'Stop being ridiculous, Aubrey, it's one drink,' she heard a familiar voice saying, tone laced with disapproval.
That voice was right. It was just one drink. But there was something else nagging at her more than the alcohol itself, something that traced back to the sour taste she had originally experienced. Rather than allow herself to dwell on the thought, she pushed herself up from the ground and walked forward, face blank as the Bellas parted around her. Her gaze swept around the room, searching with a growing sense of agitation for a water bottle or can of soda, though most of the room's occupants wouldn't believe her to be anything but calm.
What cans she could see were either empty or alcoholic, meaning there was nothing in the room that she could use to wash the lingering taste away.
Someone stepped up beside her, causing her to realize that at some point during her search she had come to a halt. A quick glance to her left confirmed that it was Chloe who was currently watching her, concerned.
"Are you okay, Bree?" came the question, as she expected.
She nodded once, but her attention wasn't on the girl beside her, instead focused on one of the bottles that she could see lying on its side. It was an accident waiting to happen, should the cap not be twisted tight enough to keep the remaining liquid from leaking out. Her frown deepened.
"Bree?" Evidently, her response hadn't been satisfactory. She vaguely registered a hand clasping around her arm.
'I'm so sorry, baby...'
The sudden onslaught of memory left her eyes wide, and she tensed, jerking her arm free of Chloe's grasp. Whatever Chloe said next was lost as Aubrey's gaze shot around the room, trying to place exactly what might have been the trigger. Seeing nothing, she then glanced down, frowning as if noticing the empty cup in her hands for the first time.
Lifting it to her nose, she sniffed once, mentally analyzing the remaining traces of its contents. Her frown deepened at familiar undertones, and she straightened, looking over at Amy - who, like everyone else, had noticed Aubrey's sudden change in demeanor and was now pretending to be heavily occupied with something off to the side of the group.
"Amy, what was in this drink?" Aubrey asked. It could be considered almost eerie, how the casual tone of her voice so vastly contrasted with the rigidity of her stance.
Amy shrugged offhandedly, eyes glancing around the group as if hoping someone else would speak - though of course they couldn't, as the Australian had been the one to prepare the drink for herself. "Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that...Why, do you want another?" She grinned nervously in Aubrey's direction, though she faltered when she saw the look in Aubrey's eyes.
"I'm serious, Amy," the blonde said, voice dropping to a low growl, "What. Was in this drink?"
"Uhh...Tequila. Orange juice." Amy took another look around the room, eyes lighting on the bottle lying on its side. "And Vodka. Cranberry vodka, for sure," she said quickly, seeming relieved to be able to provide an answer before Aubrey got any more angry.
Her words had the effect she was aiming for - that is, convincing the Bellas Captain to not come after her in a fit of rage. But they also had an additional effect that startled everyone in the room - Aubrey took one look at the bottle and bolted from the room.
The rest of the Bellas exchanged looks of confusion as she hurried away. "Maybe she's allergic?" Jessica offered as a possible explanation.
"Can you even be allergic to alcohol?"
Why had she run? It was just a drink. Just one drink...
'I'm so sorry, baby...'
Her head dipped forward again, the contents of her stomach - what was left, at least, which wasn't much - emptying into the bowl as her fingers gripped the sides of the seat, her knuckles turning white. As her stomach settled, she wearily rested her forehead against the cold surface. "Nothing good comes from alcohol," she whispered fiercely, shoving the memory aside.
But something good had come from it, once. She could still recall the night perfectly.
The hours after their Regionals win had been a non-stop whirlwind of congratulations, singing, and alcohol. The congratulatory words had started up before they even left the stage, Alice proudly carrying the gold trophy that would soon adorn the awards case in the auditorium (a space had been preemptively cleared for what they had all felt would be a guaranteed win). Singing had been added in the moment they crowded back onto the bus, one of the girls launching into a rendition of Whitney Houston's "Queen of the Night" that was rapidly picked up by the rest of the Bellas.
Alcohol had held off until the bus had deposited its exuberant passengers. The Bellas had already determined whose apartment would become host to the night's celebration (as sophomores, perhaps thankfully, neither Chloe nor Aubrey had the off-campus space to offer) and there was no valid excuse for missing out on the most important party of the season thus far.
She hadn't been able to avoid the first drink, shoved into her hands by a bright-eyed redhead who was much more excited to be there than she. Though they arrived together, Chloe had been dragged off shortly after handing her the drink, leaving Aubrey to hover awkwardly at the edge of the crowd. Word had spread fast and more than just the Bellas had shown up under the promise of a good time and free booze, which she heard was being paid for with some of the leftover money from the bikini car wash. The large number of people currently inside the house made her vaguely uncomfortable, and soon enough she had retreated to stand near a set of stairs leading up to "off-limit" bedrooms, the railing becoming a makeshift barrier between her and the loud frat boys streaming in and out of the kitchen (where said booze likely stood waiting on the counters).
Never one for waste, Aubrey sipped from the cup in her hands from time to time, scrunching her nose in distaste at the burn of the alcohol sliding down her throat. (She found it interesting that for all Alice's stern rules keeping their vocal chords in prime condition, alcohol regulation had never managed to make the list.) While she wasn't the biggest fan of it, though, at least the drink gave the appearance that she was participating in the party - and if nothing else, Aubrey Posen was one for proper appearances.
She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been standing there, but eventually Chloe popped back into sight, clearly having added another few drinks to her 'finished' list if the way she was swaying was any indication. Despite what seemed to be random wandering, her eyes lighted on Aubrey and her steps quickly gained purpose. "C'mon, Bree, the party's on this side of the stairs," she said cheerfully, leaning over the edge of the railing.
"I'm doing just fine over here, thanks," Aubrey said, raising her cup in a mocking fashion towards the crowd, which had, if anything, gotten even louder since she had first holed up on the staircase.
Chloe followed the cup with her eyes, lips pursed in thought. "You should have another drink," she decided, nodding along with her own suggestion.
Aubrey raised an eyebrow in response. "I'm not done with this one," she pointed out, swirling the liquid to prove there was still plenty left.
"So finish it. I'm going to get you another one." Chloe pushed herself off the railing in one sudden motion and Aubrey abandoned her step to catch her as she teetered backwards, her own momentum causing her to fall.
"No, you're going to sit down," she said firmly, shaking her head and guiding the redhead back to the staircase, carefully seating her before joining her on the steps. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Aubrey occasionally sipping from her cup if only to give her something to do.
"These stairs feel funny," Chloe announced out of the blue.
Aubrey glanced over to see her dragging her fingers along the material covering the stairs. "That's because they're carpeted," she explained, lips quirking into a smile.
Chloe made a noncommittal noise, continuing to run her fingers along the stairs with a frown of deep concentration. The sight was amusing, but Aubrey only watched briefly before looking away to dissuade a pair of frat boys headed their way with a steely glare. When she turned back, she found herself staring into Chloe's eyes.
Chloe wasn't looking directly at her, but rather at a spot below her nose. "I wonder how those would feel," she said quietly.
Aubrey wasn't entirely sure what the redhead was focusing on,. "How what would feel?" she asked, deciding it was better to prepare now for whatever Chloe's latest drunken tangent was going to be.
"Your lips."
The blunt statement took her by surprise. Without meaning to, her eyes flicked down to look at Chloe's, which were once again pursed in thought. "I imagine they feel just like yours. Or anyone else's," she said, trying to sound casual.
Chloe shook her head. "No, yours are different." She was still staring, but now Aubrey knew what she was looking at. Her next words came as a whisper. "Soft. They look so soft. ...Can I feel them?"
Her mouth suddenly felt dry, and she swallowed heavily, hesitating before saying, "Uh, sure." She expected Chloe to reach out with a hand, but was instead startled by a pair of lips tentatively touching her own. It took a moment for her to pull away, her heart racing. "Chloe," she began uncertainly, licking her lips, noticing the way Chloe watched the movement intently, "What- what are you doing?"
"I'm feeling them." Chloe's eyes were darkened with emotion, and though Aubrey knew what was coming this time, she found herself frozen in place as Chloe leaned in again. She tensed as she felt lips against her own, but her eyes fluttered shut as a tongue ran across them, asking permission to enter.
Her lips parted without conscious thought and the tongue slipped inside, permission granted. Suddenly she was glad they were sitting, and her hand weakly clutched at the carpet, digging for something to ground the thoughts whirling around in her mind.
Chloe was kissing her.
Chloe Beale - her best friend - was kissing her. Pressing her back against the staircase. Slipping a hand up the side of her shirt-
And she was letting it happen.
When the realization of what was happening had finally caught up to her...She ran. Had disentangled herself from Chloe's arms and made some half-hearted excuse about leaving and ran. And though she had tiptoed around for the next few days, watching for signs that she had messed everything up, that it actually had been more than drunken experimentation, Chloe hadn't brought it up again, leaving her to assume that memories of the night had been lost in the haze of alcohol.
Every so often she wondered what things might be like now, had she been the one to bring it back up. But there was no way she could do that, not right after it happened, and not now. She was too damaged.
It was for the best.
Still, she wondered.
Her heart ached, as it did every time she took in the sight of the woman hovering in front of the toilet bowl. Quietly, she walked up and knelt down next to her, reaching forward to caress the side of her face, to pull the long blonde locks out of target range. She knew from years of experience that Aubrey's emotions needed to run their course, but at least she could make sure a shower wouldn't be needed afterward.
The comforting motion served as a release, and Aubrey's silent sobs were finally allowed to vocalize. Remaining hunched over the bowl, knuckles white against either side, her entire body shook with the force of cries no longer repressed. They remained in that position on the floor for a long while, Aubrey gradually calming down until her body was finally still. When words did come again, they were almost inaudible. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice rough. Though the danger had passed, she remained where she was, looking miserably into the bowl, head bowed in shame.
"Don't apologize. It's okay," Chloe said gently, her hand continuing to make small circles on Aubrey's back. She allowed Aubrey a few moments of self-pity, then nudged the woman around to face her, reaching up and rubbing even smaller circles against Aubrey's cheek with her thumb. "Hey," she said, leaning in and coaxing Aubrey's eyes up from their downcast state, "It's okay."
Aubrey managed to meet her gaze, then looked away again, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and guilt, a stark contrast to otherwise pale skin.
"Here."
She stiffened as a red cup was pushed towards her, confirming the reason for her departure.
"Don't worry, it's just water," Chloe added reassuringly, watching with a mixture of worry and relief as Aubrey silently accepted the cup and sipped from it. The blonde gripped the plastic with both hands, fingers tense around the edges. "...Do you want to talk about it?" she then offered softly, once she was certain Aubrey wouldn't spin around and begin round two.
Aubrey's silence lasted long enough for Chloe to assume the subject was going to be avoided, but just before the redhead accepted it and gave up, shoulders slumped and a sentence was uttered.
"Cranberry Vodka is my mother's choice of drink," was all she said, hands clenching and unclenching against the cup in a controlled motion.
The pieces finally clicked into place. Chloe's lips formed a silent 'oh' as sympathy filled her eyes, and immediately she drew her arms around Aubrey in a tight hug. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her face buried in blonde hair. "I should have realized."
Aubrey quickly shook her head. "You couldn't have known. It's okay. Besides, I- I shouldn't have reacted like this." All she could think about was the disapproval that would have been in her father's eyes, had he seen any of her actions that night.
"You've given enough hints. I just wasn't paying enough attention." Not to the right things. She had been too caught up in lips and eyes and smiles to notice the more important things - hunched shoulders, tapping fingers, a rigid back. She saw all of that now, though, and was determined to make up for her own negligence.
Aubrey didn't like the sadness she heard in that voice. "It's not your job to pay attention," she said, trying to sound reassuring, succeeding only in causing Chloe's shoulders to slump further.
"But I want it to be."
There it was. The sign she had waited more than two years for. The sign that, even now, twisted her insides into a knot and sent her fingers into a frenzy against her side before she forced them still. She looked up, meeting Chloe's eyes for the first time since the conversation began. A beat of silence passed between them before she finally asked, "...Why?" The question tumbled out, bypassing her usual filters with an ease that startled her. Immediately she felt her heart clench and she looked away, steeling herself for the moment Chloe finally came to her senses and retreated.
That moment didn't come. "Because you're worth it," she said simply, her arms tightening their hold rather than giving Aubrey the space her rigid posture was demanding.
She appreciated the words, but too many years of stern lectures and unending criticism had instilled in her a harsher reality. "I'm not." The statement was matter-of-fact.
"You are. You're perfect. And I..." Love you. The words were left unspoken, caught in the back of her throat.
Aubrey shut her eyes with a sigh. "You deserve someone better than me," she whispered regretfully into the fabric of Chloe's shirt.
Chloe stiffened at the words. Aubrey stiffened with her.
"Aubrey..." she began tentatively, but Aubrey shook her head again, refusing to look up.
"Not now," she begged, "I...I can't. Not now." Not here, on the bathroom floor, where the scents of alcohol and vomit mixed in the air and encouraged nausea already brought on by emotion.
Chloe was silent for a long moment as she looked down at the woman in her arms. The woman who would rather lose everything than admit weakness. The woman who had broken down once already, and was on the verge of doing so a second time. As much as she was dying to ask exactly what she had meant, for Aubrey's sake, she would hold off. "No, not now. Later," she agreed softly, her heart hammering in her chest at what exactly 'later' might bring about. "Now come on, let's get you cleaned up. You look horrible."
The teasing remark did its job, earning a weak chuckle from Aubrey, who promptly straightened and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Recognizing the look in her eyes, Chloe politely averted her gaze to give her a moment to compose herself again, then stood up and grabbed a paper towel. She heard the toilet flush as she ran the water to get it damp, then waited for Aubrey to come out of the stall.
When she finally did, the blonde wordlessly accepted the towel and set to work making herself presentable. She didn't succeed in completely eliminating the traces of tears, but it was an admirable effort - and considering all of the Bellas were at least a little intimidated by their Captain, Chloe suspected no one would question a bit of puffiness around her eyes.
She smiled as the active effort gave way to careful scrutinizing. "It's not going to get any better than that, Bree," she pointed out, not bothering to hide her grin as the blonde shot her a disdainful glare. "You look fine. Now come on, let's go back to the others."
Aubrey stiffened, then groaned, remembering for the first time the people undoubtedly waiting just outside the door. "They probably think I'm crazy," she said, putting her head in her hands, already dreading leaving the restroom.
Chloe's reaction, a stifled laugh, was not the response she was expecting. "Well, actually..." she began, lips quirking into a smile, "They...think you're allergic to alcohol."