A/N: Dedicated to my best friend Danni, who was killed in a hit-and-run on November 21st. I will love you forever. Rest in peace, my darling.

Beca slowly opened her eyes, taking in the daylight that flooded through the window of her dorm room. With a quick glance at the calender on the wall, she let out a sigh. October 23rd. One day closer.

It had been nearly a year since Chloe died.

She thought back over the past few months. The nearer she came to November, the more of a chore Beca's normal activities became. Her studies didn't fill the void, and neither did the music she had slowly stopped creating. Each note was a piercing scream, reverberating off the walls of her heart.

"I'll see you tomorrow!"

But she wouldn't. She wouldn't see Barden's glowing campus the next morning. She wouldn't see the last traces of happiness leave Beca's face as she picked up the phone. She wouldn't see the brunette's stone-hard expression as she kept her emotions locked inside a short black dress.

After twenty-two years of taking in the life around them, those crystal blue orbs would never open again. You can't see anything when you're gone.

Beca Mitchell had decided to stay at Barden University after winning the ICCAs. After all, the Bellas were counting on her to lead them to another national championship. At least, that's the reason she gave everyone for why she was staying. But she knew all too well that the real reason was a perky redhead that had burrowed herself under Beca's defenses. Chloe Beale had decided to stay at Barden for grad school, and no way was the DJ leaving behind her best friend (and secret love interest).

She would become the a capella group's fearless leader. That had been the plan. But Beca had long since quit the Bellas, losing touch with her former friends and leaving them to fend for themselves. There was just no way she could sit in that choir room and sing those songs with the shadow of Chloe's death looming over them.

Her mind wandered back to that fateful night. Chloe had gone out with some friends to a club, texting Beca the entire time. The brunette had been ridiculously tired, but didn't want to retire to bed and cut their conversation short. Eventually, though, around 11:30, she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.

"Hey, Chlo? I really need to hit the sack. I have the morning shift at the station tomorrow, and with Luke gone, I need to be there early to make sure everything is running smoothly. Be safe getting home."

"I will. You know Olivia's a careful driver. Goodnight, Becs! I'll see you tomorrow!"

Beca had never deleted that message. It was the last one she'd ever receive. She found herself staring at it now, the words a burning reminder on the screen of her phone. Tears began to cloud her vision.

Chloe's friend Olivia may have been a careful driver, but that didn't mean everyone in the world was. Some people made stupid decisions. Some people got into their cars drunk. And on the night of November 21st, a young man with too much pride and arrogance drove away from a party with alcohol flowing through his system.

Had he waited just twenty seconds longer, maybe he wouldn't have driven into an intersection and T-boned Olivia's car.

All four girls in the vehicle were killed. But the boy? He walked away without a scratch.

Setting down her phone, Beca began to get dressed and ready for her morning classes. Not that it would matter if she attended or not; she was never fully there to begin with.

Was there something more she could have done? Was there any way she could have saved Chloe's life? Was it her fault that she was dead within an hour of reaching the hospital?

Maybe. Because it should have been her. Not the lovely redhead that did all she could to make those around her happy. Why wasn't it Beca, with her I-couldn't-care-less attitude and (actually somewhat painful) ear spikes? She just didn't understand.

To cheer her up, Chloe would find all different ways to tell Beca that she was important. She once said that the world was a big machine, and no machine was made with pieces that weren't meant to be. If that were true, then why was such an important piece suddenly ripped away from the machine? Because without Chloe Beale, the machine was certainly malfunctioning. At least for Beca.

She wasn't ready to face November 21st. She wasn't ready for her mind to congratulate her on living a year without her. Because she hadn't really lived. She had merely survived.

Beca looked in the mirror, seeing her usual blank stare looking back.

One day closer.