Author's Note: Thank you Lydia for saying-life is not a movie AS we watched a movie. Debated putting this out into the world because its brutally honest which is my style but I wanted a break from my fluffy/gooey Faberry one shots. Hopefully someone enjoys this bitter, bleak, (what's another b word?) beautifully angsty thing? This is how some things disintegrate.

Blue eyes looked her over. She hadn't seen them or thought about them in months but there were right in front of her and she refused to fall in. Chloe looked her over, arms crossed over her chest, a cliché defensive pose, but the older woman had just watched Veronika Decides to Die and the therapist had said-just because its a cliché doesn't make it any less true. But life wasn't a movie.

"What are you doing here?" Beca asked, annoyance slipped out though she tried to sound flat and unmoved.

The redhead opened her mouth to reply, a second too late, distracted by the classical music coming from Beca's speakers and quickly pressed her lips together when the smaller woman cut her off. "No, you know what...I'm asking you that we don't do this. We don't need to talk ever again." She remained blocking the entrance to her apartment and watched to see a reaction from her ex.

Either Chloe was still processing or...no. Beca refused to let herself assume anything.

"Beca..." Chloe took a step closer and stopped when Beca immediately took a step back and looked more tense while Chloe looked more conflicted and hurt. For a second Beca had wanted to step forward and touch her at her initial step but it would only repeat their unhealthy dynamic if she gave in. Even if it was so fucking easy to give into Chloe. "I just..." she grasped, "..want you to know that I care about you."

"Good for you," the brunette said dismissively and felt like going inside and changing the music because concerto for two violins in D minor by Bach wasn't fitting with the conversation. Her plan to drink and slip into a nice mind numbing state was completely thrown off now.

"Can you be honest with me for five minutes?" Chloe tried.

"There's a point where being honest and mean can overlap. And I was raised that if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything. So..." she let her words fade and hang between them with purpose.

"I'm here for a reason. Come on. I can take it." She pushed and frowned that another classical song played, something unrecognizable, but Beca was a bit...unrecognizable herself.

"Ever think I hate being this honest? How its pointless because it doesn't make anything change? That its fucking draining Chloe?" And she ended on a frustrated sigh.

"Yes." She admitted solidly.

"Yes? That's it?" Beca raised her voice slightly.

"I know its hard," Chloe stressed the word hard, that denying the difficulty would be a lie.

"You know? You get it? So I'm clear..." she said shaking her head as though she were mentally sweeping a broom that could clear away confusion.."that's why you chose to say nothing and do nothing?" This time it was Beca's chance to stress the last word. "At some point there was so much nothing that this," she said as she moved her index finger between them as they stood in the hallway, "became nothing." Beca closed her eyes, arms across her chest again and regretted it having admitted it. Words projected like bullets. No matter how much she wanted to believe it they weren't bulletproof.

"You don't mean that," Chloe said with a frown and said in a whisper that was also strong and argumentative.

"Chloe. You told me via fucking text to care less," she seethed with a bitter edge. "So I did. When have I ever done anything half assed?" She presented the question as a statement.

"What are you saying?" Chloe said as she leaned against the wall as it became incredibly evident Beca wasn't about to let her in soon. She watched as the smaller woman rubbed near her temple and scratched at the base of her hairline. One of Beca's tells that she felt tightly wound. The deep pull of air and release like it was her last breath was another give away.

"Don't make me say it," she said with anger which was easier than the pleading tone she refused to allow. Saying it made it final and concrete.

Chloe frowned intensely and heard the song change to another instrumental piece. "Becs..."

She asked you to care less...and it was like a switch. She thought as she repeated what she said to Jesse months ago. It was explained then and it was like Chloe had given her permission to stop caring. And it was like letting go. It was even freeing to not carry around the hope. And it was done. Beca shut it down out of self-preservation and self-defense. It had been a year of holding on. And so what that she had resigned herself to believing she was going to be single for a long time?

"Spinster liftestyle!" Jesse had joked and put his hand up for a high five.

The music enthusiast had frowned and took another drink from her craft beer. She wasn't about to say fuuuuuuuck falling in love again, I'm gonna pass. But Jesse had tried to cheer her up by listing off her positive attributes.

"Seriously. You're smart, you graduated college." He said cheerfully in his earnest way.

"That's not hard. American education is far, far behind Europe."

"You pass for attractive," he held up two fingers.

"Genetics and eyeshadow," she said with boredom.

"Your glowing personality is a magnet." He said with three fingers showing. "Cause you're not at all difficult." He finished sarcastically.

She chose to glare at him then finished her beer. "Three things and you were reaching."

"Professional minimizer." Jesse said and sank into the couch, comfortable with their banter and somehow less worried about Beca than he was six months ago.

But in the present all she knowingly had were corroded memories and moments with Chloe. Like the current one she was in, where more than anything she wanted the interaction to end. Quickly she turned around and opened the door, tired of hearing her playlist through the wall.

Apparently Chloe took the action as a chance to come in. As Beca turned down her computer settings she faced Chloe again who looked from her to the computer and back to Beca as if the machine held her secrets.

"This is it. We're done. I mean...we've been done. I was just stupidly slow to emotionally admit it was done." She paused, clearly in thought and scoffed at herself.

"...God..you're a lot more...open than you were last year," she said in observation and partial shock.

Beca let out a humorless laugh that could have passed more for a puff of air. "A couple of my friends are therapists. They don't tolerate my minimizing bullshit as they say." Smoothly she moved to her kitchen and grabbed her liquor. "Doesn't take away that this particular bullshit right now is like a Goetye song," she said and took a long drink from the glass. "Its not needed."

For a few seconds Chloe was distracted because she had a chance to glance at the screen. The list was titled: the space between the notes. She saw Beethoven's Symphony No 5 Third Movement, Vivaldi's 4 Seasons, Op 8 Winter, Bach's Cello Suit in D Minor, Metamorphisis by Phillip Glass...which was playing now and it was nearly distracting and unexpected. The piano was stunning and she didn't think Beca enjoyed the genre but read through to see Debussy's La Cathedrale engloutie and Mendelssohn's Cencerto #2 and others but refocused when the smaller woman set her cup down.

When the words sunk in she turned around and asked, "or wanted?"

"Does it matter?" Beca asked with a narrowed expression that hid her grey, blue eyes. "No, it doesn't."

"Can I talk?" Chloe asked in a way that was half asking and half implied she was going to regardless.

"Fine," she said annoyed after a heavy pause. "But it pointless," she said as she tucked a hand under her elbow and her arm across her chest but managed to look comfortable.

"Why is your playlist titled the space between the notes?" She went with something safe and saw Beca blink in surprise.

"Ah...its how Debussy described music," she said with a frown. The red head shouldn't have been surprised Beca was well versed in music history but took the chance to redirect.

"Why is it so pointless?" She asked.

"You told me to CARE LESS," she emphasized and cringed internally, feeling very much like a broken record. "God this is like kicking a dead horse!" She pushed the drink away, giving up completely on feeling relaxed because dear God in hell she hated redundancy and her plan to have a simple night was clearly shot.

"If I didn't care I wouldn't be here." Chloe said raising her voice for the first time.

"Why the hell are you here?" She said tersely. "Because you don't have to be, that's the door," she said and theatrically moved her hand and pointed to it.

"You're being...surprisingly cold..." the taller woman frowned and saw how the entire time Beca created physical barriers between them. Six feet or so and a kitchen island served as the divider at the moment.

"Yeah well...life isn't a movie. You don't always get the girl," she mumbled the last sentence then spoke with more volume. "It could be a movie though. I could quote Natalie Portman and say I can't do anything with your easy words." She said in a way that made it apparent she was exhausted.

"Okay. Instead of quoting movies...can you use your own words?"

"You deserve my words?" Beca said back quickly.

Chloe took in her own long intake of air. "Touche. That's fair."

Something here should be. Beca thought. "Why are you here?" She asked again.

"I was in the neighborhood?" Chloe said with a slight shoulder raise. The smaller woman scoffed at the red head trying to be charming. "Okay...Jesse mentioned to Aubrey who only disclosed because she was drunk," she said in defense of her best friend.

"Yeah, well I wish I was drunk," Beca cut her off and looked at her glass.

"That you were taking pain meds," Chloe continued, undetirred to have the conversation. "More than usual." And paused to gauge Beca's reaction that created a frown and a slight head tilt. "A lot more than usual," she tried gently.

"Not your business." Beca stated factually when it was obvious Chloe was finished talking.

"Beca. I care." She said gently, like it wasn't harmful to hear it. Like it didn't make her flinch and tell her to leave.

"Its not your concern. And that's not my problem that you care." She said the last word like it was stale coffee or a relative of arsenic.

"Actually it is," Chloe tried again.

"No. You should take your own fucking advice and care less."

For a second she was glad they weren't out in the hallway because she didn't want her neighbors to hear this.

If Chloe wasn't looking intensely and took Beca at face value she would have left, but her eyes had a gloss to them. There was a layer there that threatened her closed off demeanor. "YOU told me to care less. Took me a year to accomplish that, but...better late than never."

"...Beca..."

"And I asked you if we could be civil and have coffee once a month and you can't do that because you said no. Because I'm clearly asking so much from you," she said bitterly. Fuck it. She thought. Jumping head first into honesty even though ambivalence is a theme in my life. Cause if I trusted I'd marry her tomorrow...which isn't very sane...but no one said love was very sane anyway...

"There's still feelings Beca...I can't meet you once a month for coffee and think its that simple."

"So you chose nothing. Got it. Loud and clear." Beca said as she tapped her index and middle finger on the countertop.

"Its not that simple," Chloe repeated and stood like she wanted to stay but knew she wasn't going to be able to. Her body language told its own story and reminded the smaller woman of something she had read recently of-I don't want you to go, I don't want it to end like this. And the character replied-you don't get to choose, its just happening.

"But it is simple. You knew I was involved in two accidents and didn't think to care then? Send a text?" She said as she clenched her fist at her side.

"Jesse and Aubrey said you were okay..." she tried.

"Yeah, cause I'm going to tell them it feels like my back has been punched every other day? Or that the muscle relaxers the doctor prescribed aren't strong enough? Or that-"

"You want a massage...but hate being touched?" Chloe interrupted sadly and questioned though she knew the answer-recalling when Beca asked for one randomly. "That's why you texted..."she pieced it together. "You could get a professional massage.." she suggested and caught Beca rolling her eyes.

"Tried that." She said factually.

"You hate being touched by strangers," Chloe stated and watched Beca stare at the sink, anything that wasn't her as she breathed deeply.

I hate being touched by anyone who isn't you. But that much candidness was asking for more disappointment and sometimes committing to honesty was like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea she thought. And in turn held back. Instead Beca straightened her stance, looked at Chloe and said in a business-like tone, "I take two pills a week. It doesn't involve you. And you can go now."

"That's it? This is it?" Chloe asked, half in shock and something else she hadn't worked out yet-hence the shock.

"You aren't...we aren't a part of each other's lives." She swallowed. So yeah-this is it.

"I wanted you to be."

Beca raised an eyebrow. Yeah, past tense. I wanted you to be too, but I wasn't a priority and I'm not someone you want to be around, even as a friend. So I stopped caring. Because you asked me to. Even if I still fucking love you...caring and love aren't the same...they overlap but...what's left is hope that's just...stagnant...because I can't do anything about it. And eventually your birthday will come around and I'll stop thinking about you and wishing you well but for now..."yeah...well...have a good life Chloe," she said as she put her glass in the sink, purposefully walked around the taller woman and went to her bedroom. Chloe could let herself out. It was that simple.

Around midnight when she got back up to lock her door she wasn't surprised Chloe had left without leaving a mark, no sign of her physical presence like she was never there.

The End

Author's Note: The Natalie Portman movie is CLOSER. I love classical music and after reading the book The Lucy Variations...some modern renditions were found. Most of my stories somewhat come with a soundtrack. "I don't want you to go and its just happening" bit is from the book Attachments. This wasn't intended as a happy ending story but an attempt to process and create dialog. It may seem implied but Beca doesn't have a drug addiction, Jesse and Aubrey more so embellish to get Chloe to talk to Beca. Though there is one thing I will never say/put into this fic-even I think its too harsh. But thank you for reading.