I Would Walk 500 Miles: Chapter One

Pitch Perfect isn't mine.

Please enjoy.

The word 'choice' wasn't one that Beca would apply to this situation. Not when it involved the forced packing of her instruments. Not when it involved the rescinding of what had previously been unconditional monetary support. Not when the words 'you have no choice in the matter' came into play.

The conversation had gone somewhere along these lines: "I'm not going to pay for this place anymore so if you want to be able to live somewhere, you will be coming to college. It's a free education, Beca!" And that was that. End of discussion. Her father always had been a little brusque. Well-intentioned but, well, you know what they say. Pathway to hell and all that.

So why was she here? Well, the first reason, of course, was that she had no where else to go. The second reason what that she hadn't wanted to stay there. She would have done anything to get out of that hell hole and sure, she'd wanted to go straight to LA and wow the crowds but this place wasn't horrible. Yet. And the third reason was that she hadn't wanted to fight him on this. She was tired of fighting.

Beca wasn't exactly what you would call a confrontational person. Sarcastic? Yes. Cynical? Hell yes. Slightly socially awkward? Absolutely. Used to having people ignore her and make decisions for her and completely overlook the fact that she is a person as well because they are completely absorbed in their own problems? Yes. Confrontational? No.

So, when her father makes this decision for her, she pushes down any argument, packs up her things, and pays for the extraordinarily expensive taxi ride with her fathers money. Non-confrontational she may be but that doesn't mean that she wasn't, on occasion, a little bit mean.

She has to fight the urge to slap the taxi driver's hand away from her equipment – which were, one hundred percent, the only things that mattered to her – and instead gives him an awkward smile and grabs them herself. Sure, they may be heavy, but she's rather not have a stranger carry something so important to her. So long as no one surprised her or shoved her, she should be fine.

Speaking of surprises, a too-perky blonde appears mystically in front of her, blabbering about rooms and rap whistles. Beca is slightly distracted by the boy playing air guitar to her from his car to actively listen to the girl's speech but she kind of gets it. Her dorm room is in that building and she isn't supposed to blow it unless it's actually happening. Got it. But it's part of Beca's nature to rile people up so she slips the whistle between her lips and smirks at the girl whose creepily affectionate smile persists with an impressive show of stubbornness.

Beca's day doesn't improve when she enters her room and her Korean roommate refuses to speak to her. Added to that the glare of her lifetime and Beca rolls her eyes. She just wanted to know where the girl was with English. As she carefully unpacks her equipment, she smiles a little sadly to herself. Figures that she would get the roommate who would be perfectly happy to kill her.

Hello to my readers! This is, quite clearly, a very short introduction chapter to my newest story. I just wanted to get a feel for the story and see what the style might be. Have a wonderful day. The next chapter will be up soon, hopefully, seeing as I've planned the whole thing out. Happy reading, readers :)