A/N: Hey awesome nerds! So I am feeling super angsty today because it has been a horrible week in Hollywood. First we lose legendary rock star David Bowie, followed by losing Alan Rickman. So I am not feeling very happy. That being said. This little ditty is something that I have been thinking about for a while. I don't know if I will turn this into a multi-chapter….maybe if there is enough interest. So I hope that you guys enjoy this little angst party.
-I Can't Hear a Word You Say-
Beca knew from a very young age that she was going to have a career in music when she grew up. The very instant that she could talk and form sentences, she picked up on song lyrics. Her mom told her that when she was a baby, she would giggle and dance like crazy whenever a song came on the radio. Eighteen year old Beca would argue that she has never giggled in her life, being the self-proclaimed badass that she is. Deep down though, Beca knew that her mom was telling the truth.
Music was to Beca was as necessary as oxygen. She couldn't imagine living without the melodic sounds rushing through her ears.
She still remembered her first Walkman. Walking through the halls of her elementary school with her crappy padded headphones glued to her head. If she walked too fast, whatever c.d. she was playing would skip, regardless of the bullshit lie that the Walkman advertised. 60 second skip protection my ass.
As soon as iPod's made their first appearance, Beca knew that she had to have one. She tried to ask for one for her birthday, but her mom was barely making ends meet. Her dad was the main breadwinner in the household, so when he left, he took everything. Beca's mom worked as a substitute teacher, taking on another job as a waitress at night. Being a freshman in high school made it impossible for her to find a job. So Beca decided that she would look for odd jobs around her neighborhood to save up money. She got up earlier than normal on school days and mowed lawns for her neighbors. Getting up earlier than seven a.m. on a school day was unheard of for Beca. Her dedication to being up before the sun showed how badly she needed this iPod. After two grueling months of mowing lawns, raking leaves and doing odd jobs for the creepy old lady next door, Beca finally had enough for her iPod.
Having an iPod was everything to Beca. That tiny white brick of electronical goodness was a lifeline for the brunette. She took the musical device everywhere that she went. It was a major pain in the ass to load it up with music from her mom's ancient desktop computer, but every hour was worth it. Beca didn't think that life could possibly get any better for her. Boy was she wrong.
That Christmas was the best holiday of Beca's life. With the money struggles that they were having, she didn't expect really anything for Christmas. The past couple of years were meager but not unappreciated gifts like clothes for the brunette. So when she came down on Christmas morning to a rectangular box, she assumed that she was going to get more clothes this year. It didn't bother her, really it didn't. Not growing up with much made Beca very appreciative of every little thing. Plus she bought herself an iPod, what more did she need?
When Beca opened up the rectangular box from "Santa Claus," (her mom was still convinced that she was six years old) she was positive that she had died. There was no way that her mom had been able to afford a laptop for her. Beca looked up from her lap to meet her mother's gaze, surprised that all she could make out was a blurry figure. It took a minute before Beca realized that the reason for the blurry figure was because she was crying. If asked now, Beca would still deny that she cried that day. She swore up and down that she merely got dust in her eye, because badasses don't cry. Beca's mother Laura moved quickly to sit in front of her daughter, wiping the brunette's tear away with her thumbs.
"Merry Christmas baby." Laura says with a watery smile, leaning in to press a kiss to the brunette's forehead.
"But…wh…how?" Beca chokes out between sobs, unable to dam up the waterworks flowing through her tear ducts.
"I have been working extra shifts at the diner, plus I wanted to get you something nice." Laura coos, running her fingers through the brunette's slightly tangled locks.
"You didn't have to mom…" Beca starts, but is immediately silenced when her mother press a finger against her lips.
"I know Becs, but I wanted to."
"All I got you was a new robe and pair of house shoes."
"Those are things that I needed Beca. I know that things have been rough since your dad left, but just let me do this one thing for you. You have been my rock since he left us and I know that I haven't been around as much as I should be."
"You've been working. I understand mom."
"I know that. Doesn't mean that it's right. You are only fourteen Becs, you need your mom around."
"You are around. You always make sure that we have dinner together. When you aren't at work on the weekends, you spend all of your free time with me."
"I know honey. I just wish that I could be around more for you."
"And I appreciate that mom. I know that you need to work."
"Well I just want you to know that I appreciate every single thing that you do for me. I could afford this computer for you, so I bought it. Now go upstairs and do whatever the hell it is that you kids do on the internet while I make dinner."
"Yes Ma'am." Beca mock salutes, earning a playful smack to her shoulder. Laura presses another kiss to Beca's forehead before standing up. Beca stands up abruptly, wrapping her small arms around her mother's waist. Laura gasps in surprise before eagerly hugging her affectionately awkward daughter back. Breaking the hug after a few moments, Beca looks up at her mother with a huge smile on her face.
"Thank you mom. I love you."
"I love you too baby. Merry Christmas."
Beca wraps her mom up in another quick hug before grabbing the laptop box off of the floor. She doesn't spare another glance back as she runs up the stairs to her room.
It was because of that wonderful Christmas gift that Beca discovered her hidden talent. She had the innate ability to break down chord progressions of songs to mash them up with other songs that wouldn't normally go together. She spent countless hours on her laptop, making mash-ups that she was insanely proud of. When she wasn't at school, Beca was in her room making as much music as she possibly could before her body would give out from exhaustion. Laura would frequently find Beca slumped over in her desk chair, headphones hanging haphazardly off of her ears.
As much time as Beca spent making mash-ups and half-assing her way through high school, she always made sure that weekends were set aside for spending time with her mother. That was the one thing that Beca wouldn't change. She loved spending time with her mom.
Beca's senior year of high school marked a huge change for the brunette. She still spent the majority of her time drowning out the world behind her headphones. The only problem was that now she did it on the weekends too. Laura was seeing a guy, so her weekends were usually reserved for date nights.
It wasn't that Beca hated Todd. He was actually a really nice guy. He treated her mother well and he was always nice to her. It was the fact that this dude swept in and stole Beca's best friend from her.
Beca isn't sure that it is healthy to call your mom your best friend, but Laura really was. Spending all of her free time with her mom over the years made it so that Beca didn't really socialize with people her age. So when faced with trying to make friends outside of her happy Mitchell twosome, she was a lost cause. More often than not, she would stumble over her words, or stutter when trying to initiate conversation with another human. After many failed attempts at expanding her social horizons, Beca just became extremely introverted. She spent all of her free time alone, polishing up her musical portfolio.
Along with the introverted behavior, came a drastic change in Beca's appearance. Now she wasn't by any means, a peppy brightly colored clothing type of girl. Her wardrobe consisted of darker shades of blues and purples, sometimes green. The one thing that Beca hadn't messed with before was her make-up. She stuck to light amounts of make-up, mostly neutral tones. As her taste in clothes darkened significantly, so did her make-up choices. She went from keeping to nude tones, to caking on black eyeliner and dark grey eyeshadow.
After she darkened up her make-up and wardrobe choices, Beca began to rebel a little bit. Not in the sense of going out and getting drunk with her classmates. Rebelling in the sense that she got a multitude of needles punched through her ears, followed by the permanent ink that she put on her body.
By the middle of Beca's last year of high school, she was what her classmates considered, a social outcast. She didn't talk to anyone, choosing to spend her time alone on the quad, nose pressed into her laptop. As soon as she shook hands with her principal, taking her diploma in her other, she was going to get the hell out of Maine. Her next stop was the bright city of Los Angeles.
Of course Beca's life couldn't ever go as planned. Two weeks before she graduated, her father decided to reappear in her life. Warren Mitchell showed up on the doorstep of his old house, dressed in his freshly pressed suit.
Beca really tried to slam the door in his face, she felt like that was a warranted reaction to seeing the sperm donor after nine years. After he packed up and left the two Mitchell girls, he didn't stop driving until he reached Atlanta, Georgia. He had a whole new life set up in Georgia, complete with a new wife and daughter. Not that Beca gave two shits about his new life, but she couldn't help but feel the lingering sting of abandonment when he showed off pictures of his new Stepford family. It was around the third of hundredth story that Beca finally lost her patience.
"What in the hell are you doing here Warren?" Beca hisses out, arms crossed over her chest protectively.
"Rebecca! Don't talk to your father like that." Laura chastises her daughter, met only with a roll of navy blue eyes.
"That man is not my father. He is the sperm donor that helped create me. You filled both parental roles quite successfully, mom."
Warren turns to his daughter, beckoning her over to the couch with hopeful eyes. Beca scoffs loudly, leaning her body against the hard wood of the front door, defiance flashing across her face.
"Rebecca. I know that I fuc….screwed up….I"
"It's Beca. Don't call me Rebecca."
"Right. Beca….I am so.."
Beca cuts Warren off with a raise of her hand, stepping closer to the man.
"You're what? Sorry?" Beca leans closer to her "father," nostrils flaring in annoyance. "It's a little fucking late for an apology isn't it? Nine years too fucking late Warren." Beca pokes her finger against the man's chest roughly. "I can't believe that you have the audacity to come here after not contacting me for nine years. Not only do you come here, but you have the balls to tell me awesome stories of your fantastic new family? The Mitchell Clan 2.0. Because mom and I weren't good enough for you? You ran away like a coward and made yourself a better family. So excuse me for not being very open to hearing whatever it is you came to say to me. So if you would be so kind as to spit it the fuck out and quit with the bullshit apologies. That way you can get the fuck out of my life and stay out this time." Beca pulls her hand away from Warren's chest, eyes blazing in anger.
Warren swallows loudly, shock set across his face at the verbal beat down from his daughter. He wrings his hands together, choosing his next words carefully.
"Beca, what I came here today to talk to you about is Los Angeles. Your mother told me that you plan after you graduate is to move to California to become the next P. Diddy."
"That's not the plan dude." Beca scoffs, lips turned down in a scowl
"Well anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about is college. I know that you don't plan on going, but I came out here to make a deal with you."
"Oh yeah? What kind of deal would I possibly want to make with you?" Beca crosses her arms over chest, eyes fixed in a glare.
"Well you need money to move across the country."
"And?"
"Do you have any money saved?"
"I have a little bit."
"Well let's make a deal."
"Spit it out dude."
"I want you to come with me to Atlanta after you graduate. I teach at a university out there. So I want you to go to college for at least one year, just to see if you like it."
"What's in it for me?"
"If you don't like it after one year, I will pay for you to move to Los Angeles. No questions asked. As long as you actually try."
Beca turns away from her father, turning to look at her mom.
"Is this something that you want me to do?"
"It's up to you Becs. I would like you to try. College is a lot of fun. I'm worried about you. You don't socialize with people at all. College is a time for making friends and great memories. I think that you could benefit from this."
Beca regards her mother's words thoughtfully. After a few tense moments of silence, she turns back to her father.
"Fine. I'll play your little game. Just know that I am not doing this for you. I don't owe you a goddamn thing. I'm doing this for my mother."
Beca turns away with a huff, stomping her feet childishly up the stairs to her room.
That is how Beca finds herself in Atlanta, Georgia. Pulling her suitcases behind her with her official Barden University rape whistle between her teeth. One of Beca's stipulations for coming out here was that she wanted to stay in a dorm room. No way in hell was she going to stay in the Stepford House.
After an extremely tense conversation with her father, followed by an awkward lie being rebuked by her extremely rude dorm mate, Beca finds herself wandering around campus. The entire campus seems to be on the quad. Different booths for school clubs are set up everywhere. Beca feigns interest while walking around, hoping that her father will get off of her back if she joins a club. Nothing really catches her eye, until she sees a tent labelled Barden DJ's. Beca immediately walks over to the booth, taking a pamphlet in her hands. As Beca begins to read the pamphlet in her hands, a blonde girl steps up beside her.
"Awww yeah….DJ's….Deaf Jews….picka picka.." The girl drawls in her thick Australian accent.
Beca looks over at the other girl with a smirk. The boy manning the booth walks over to them with a smile.
"Shalom!"
"That's not a real word but keep trying! You will get there!"
Beca chuckles slightly.
"Not a lot of Jewish people where you're from?"
"Hmmm…No. I did do Fiddler on the Roof though in high school. It was like me and some Aboriginals. It was really Jewish. It was full-on Jew."
Amy turns her attention to the guy, who is holding out a sign-up sheet.
"Hey guys. Alright, I'll give you my number."
Across from the "DJ" booth are two girls standing behind a banner labeled Barden Bellas. The slightly taller blonde is wearing a pink dress while the redhead is wearing a checkered blue dress. The redhead nudges the blonde lightly.
"What about her?"
"I dunno, she looks a little too alternative for us."
The redhead holds out a flyer as Beca walks past. The brunette turns her attention to the smiling redhead. She is immediately awestruck by the startling blue of the redhead's eyes. While taking in the redhead's eyes, she lets her gaze move across the other girl's face. Beca is at loss for words when it comes to how gorgeous the redhead is.
"Hi. Any interest in joining our A Capella group?"
The first words that the fall from the redhead's angelic lips sound like the perfect melody to Beca's ears. A sharp intake of breath is all that Beca can muster, the musical tone of the redhead's voice causing Beca's synapses to fire off in multiple directions. Beca takes the flyer in her hands, glancing down at it for a second before turning her gaze back to the redheaded goddess in front of her. She swallows thickly, trying to stop her brain from short circuiting.
"Oh right. So this is like, a thing now."
The redhead smiles brightly. "Oh totes. We sing covers of songs but we do it without any instruments. It's all from our mouths.
Beca frowns slightly, wondering if the redhead really deems her as dumb as a box of rocks. Or if she is just babbling due to nerves.
"Yikes."
The redhead smiles brightly, ignoring the sarcasm in the brunette's words.
"There's four groups on campus. The Bellas. That's us. We're the tits. The BU Harmonics. They sing A LOT of Madonna. The High Notes. They're not particularly motivated. And then there's…."
The redhead's voice trails off as she glances to her left. A group of guys are standing against a set of stairs, singing "Let it Whip." Beca rolls her eyes at the seemingly cocky nature of what appears to be the group's front man. Her attention snaps back at the angelic voice of the redhead.
"So are you interested?"
Beca smirks at the redhead, trying to come with a nice way of turning her down. Her mouth doesn't seem to get the memo.
"Sorry it's just, it's pretty lame."
The bitchy looking blonde standing next to the girl that Beca has deemed "Angel-voice" steps forward, hands on her hips.
"A-ca-scuse me? Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart topper is not lame.
The redhead steps in front of her best friend, placing a hand on the blonde's arm to calm her down.
"We sing all over the world and compete in national championships."
"On purpose?"
"We play the Cobb Energy Preforming Arts Centre, you bitch!"
Beca eyebrows rise to her hairline in shock, most definitely not expecting the blonde girl to call her a bitch. "Angel-voice" steps completely in front of her best friend, effectively cutting off a possible confrontation. She smiles uncertainly at the brunette.
"What Aubrey means to say is that we are a close-knit, talented group of ladies whose dream is to return to the finals at Lincoln Centre this year. Help us turn our dreams into a reality?"
Beca smiles apologetically at "Angel-voice."
"Sorry. I don't even sing, but it was really nice to meet you guys."
Beca continues on her way, desperate to head back to her dorm for a much needed nap.
Beca spends the next two weeks skipping her Intro to Philosophy class and stacking cds at the campus radio station. She forms a tentative friendship with a wavy haired brunette boy named Jesse. He attempts to hit on her for the first week of their internship, not picking up the subtle clues that Beca tries to give him. Finally, one night while they are closing up the station, Jesse asks her out to dinner after work.
"So Becs, as much as I love stacking cds with you, and I love it. We should hang out after work. Maybe get a burger or something?"
"I can't tonight dude. I have homework."
"It's Friday Beca. You are off this weekend. Work on it tomorrow."
"I'm not hungry. I ate before work."
"We've been here for nine hours. I've heard your stomach growl like ten times in the last hour."
"It's gas?"
"Why don't you want to go out with me? I thought that we hit it off pretty well."
"We did. You're a cool dude. I'm just not interested. I'm sorry."
"Was it something that I said?"
"No. You didn't do anything. I'm just like, it's…."
"What is it Becs? You can tell me. I can handle it."
"It's not you. I'm gay Jesse."
"What?"
"Did I stutter? I'm gay."
"Like how gay?"
"I didn't know that there was a scale to measure how gay a person is."
"Like on a scale of one to ten."
"I'm like Ellen DeGeneres gay. If you don't have a vagina in your pants, I'm not interested."
"Oh.."
"Yeah."
"Cool."
"Okay."
"I'm going to be your lesbro."
"Yeah. So that's not a thing."
"Well it is now."
"You're so weird."
"Well if you help me pick up a girl tonight, I'll buy your dinner."
"Deal. Don't be mad at me if I order like three burgers tonight."
"Three? Yeah right. You are way too small to eat so many burgers."
"Dude. Obviously you've never seen me eat."
Beca did manage to eat three burgers at dinner. Jesse couldn't figure out where the small brunette packed away all of those calories. She did manage to help him get a girl's phone number, so he had to hold up his end of the bargain. The one thing the brunette boy learned that night was that he would never underestimate the eating power of his lesbro.
After Jesse insisted on walking Beca back to her dorm room, the brunette plopped her body in front of her mixing equipment. The next four hours found Beca completely engrossed in her mixing, drowning out everything around her. It was one a.m. when Beca glanced at the clock again. She had class at seven a.m. Beca quickly saved her work, shutting down her equipment. She grabbed her shower caddy from under her desk, making her way to the communal showers. Beca turned the shower on, allowing the water some time to warm up before stripping out of her towel. The brunette stepped underneath the warm spray, allowing the heat to loosen up her tightly coiled muscles. She allowed her mind to wander, beginning to hum the beginning chords to the mix she was just tweaking.
"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away….."
"You can sing!"
Beca's head snaps around, panicked blue eyes meeting the electric blue eyes that have been haunting her dreams.
"Dude!"
Beca crosses her arms over her chest, attempting to cover her goods with her loofah.
"How high does your belt go?"
"My what?! Oh my god!?" Beca attempts to hide her nude body by cowering in the corner. She can't for the life of her figure out why the redhead is so calm while completely nude.
"You have to audition for the Bellas." Beca holds her shampoo bottle over her chest. Trying to hold on to some semblance of modesty.
"I can't concentrate on anything you say until you cover your junk." Beca tries. She really gives it a valiant effort. She can't help the fact that she has eyes, for god's sakes the redhead in front of her is beyond gorgeous. She allows her eyes to wander down the glorious curves of the redhead's body. She takes in the soft curves of the redhead's hips, the toned abs. She has to take a quick peek at the downstairs, but for only a nano second. She doesn't want to seem like a complete sleezeball. Now as her eyes travel back up the redhead's body, she can't help but stop when her eyes land on the other girl's chest. Her eyes seem to freeze as she takes in the gloriousness that is the redhead's breasts. Beca's creeper level ogling is broken when she hears the redhead clear her throat softly. Beca's eyes shoot up to meet the amused gaze of the redhead.
"Just consider it. One time we sang backup for Prince. His butt is so tiny that I can hold it with like one hand." The redhead leans closer to the brunette, accidently knocking the brunette's shampoo bottle out of her hand, exposing her chest to the redhead. "Oops!"
"Seriously I am nude."
"You were singing Titanium right?"
Beca eyes widen in surprise. "You know David Guetta?"
"Have I been living under a rock? Yeah. That song is my jam. My lady-jam."
"That's nice."
"It is. That song really builds."
"Gross." Really Beca was not grossed out at all. Quite the opposite actually. Her body's response to the redhead's revelation was obscene. Especially considering that she didn't even know the other girl's name. Not that it really mattered considering they were standing together, completely nude.
"Can you sing it for me?"
Beca eyes the redhead incredulously. "Dude! No. Get out!"
"Not for that reason." The redhead shrugs. "I'm not leaving here until you sing. So…"
Beca rolls her eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying her best to avoid the redhead's gaze.
"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away."
Chloe smiles brightly.
"Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away." Both girls harmonize together perfectly.
"You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium. You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium."
Both girls smile at each other, eyes subconsciously drifting down each other's bodies. Beca breaks eye contact first, glancing towards the shower wall. The redhead smiles.
"Oh yeah. I'm pretty confident about." The redhead gestures to her body. "All this."
"You should be."
The redhead turns away from Beca, grabbing the brunette's towl from the rack. She hands the towel to Beca. Beca covers her body, standing awkwardly next to the redhead.
"I still need to shower."
"Yeah. See you at auditions!"
The redhead turns away. Beca is almost positive that she adds an extra sway to her hips. She maybe only knew that because she may have been staring at the redhead's backside. There was a strong possibility that she was.
As insane as it sounds, that was the day that Beca knew that the redhead was meant to be in her life. Everything about the other girl called to the brunette. Her voice was Beca's siren song and the brunette was powerless against it.
If Beca could go back to this day, she would tell her freshman self to memorize every single sound that Chloe made. Every note that she sang, every word that she spoke. She would tell herself to commit to memory every, gasp, moan, and scream that she had ever coaxed out of her redheaded wife. If Beca knew what her life was going to be like ten year from this day, she would probably chicken out and avoid the redhead at all costs.
It wasn't that Beca regretted falling in love with and marrying Chloe after they graduated college. No, those were the best decisions of her life. She didn't regret starting a family just one year after they got married. Even though Beca was scared shitless when it came to having children. No, she didn't regret her babies for one second.
The fact doesn't change that if Beca had taken Lily up on her offer of testing out the Asian girl's time machine, she would go back to that day. Hell, she would probably go back to the day that she made her deal with the devil. She would tell Warren to shove it and she would move to Los Angeles. She would live her planned out bachelorette lifestyle and become a world renowned music producer.
Still, Beca doesn't regret falling in love with her wife. She doesn't regret swallowing her fears and having a family with the bubbly redhead. What she does regret is the fact the she didn't pay enough attention to the small things in her life. The cries of her babies when they were small. The different laughs that she would coax out of the redhead on a daily basis. Chloe's mom voice when she was angry. Chloe's mom voice when she would read a bedtime story to the twins. The cute snores that the redhead made when she was sleeping, even though she would fight tooth and nail to deny it.
It seems selfish now that Beca thinks about it, because her life could be worse. She could've lived a different life, one without the immaculate happiness that her family has given her over the years. Hell, she could be dead…but she's not.
So she should be happy, shouldn't she? She should be thankful that for the most part, she is a healthy 28 year old woman. With a smoking hot 31 year old wife. Even though she will deny that she is a day over 22. She has two beautiful, healthy five year olds. Little monsters they are. To the outside world, Beca Mitchell has it all.
So, if an outsider would question Beca, as to why she would change her seemingly perfect life. Her response to them would be.
"You wouldn't be happy with your life, if god had taken away the one thing that you relied on. I wouldn't be so angry if I had just been born like this. But it's almost as if he teased me for twenty six years. How in the fuck am I supposed to be happy when the one thing that I needed more than air was ripped away from me for no reason!?"
She doesn't mean to still be so upset about it. It's been two years after all. But all Beca can think about is how silent her once buzzing world is. How she can't hear the jingle of Chloe's keys when she gets home from work. She can't hear Elizabeth or Sam's cherub like laughs. She can't hear Chloe when she sings to them before bed. She can't hear Chloe hum when she cleans the house, swaying her hips from side to side while she washes the dishes.
That's probably the worst part of this whole fucked up situation. Not being able to hear her "Angel-voice" anymore. Beca fell in love with Chloe's voice first. So Beca not being able to hear the one thing that she craves more than air itself is like being in hell.
End-of chapter 1?
A/N: Okay y'all. I've been playing with this idea for a little while now. I am a master of procrastination right now. After all of the horrible losses that we have endured this week, I decided to try my hands on this little ditty. So it's up to you guys if you want me to continue on. I have to warn you that this will not be a happy story. This is going to be a really angsty ride. There will be fluff, but it will be pretty sad….So…hit me up on here or on my tumblr blog/jeffrinamichelle and let me know if want me to make this a multi-chapter. I hope that you all enjoyed this one. Thank you Awesome Nerds!