AN: I was listening to If we ever meet again, and I found myself thinking of this story. I don't know where it will go, but I have ideas. Without further or do, I present to you if we ever meet again, enjoy, and leave your thoughts in a review.

When you're 24 and you have a job DJ'ying at a pretty well-known nightclub in L.A while also having producer credit of a platinum hit song under your belt, you're doing something right.

Yep, Beca Mitchell is doing something right.

Beca effing Mitchell had everything working well for her; she has a college degree which pleased both her parents, who seemed to agree on something for a change. Awesome nerds for friends, despite the fact that they each went their separate ways, they still kept tabs on each other. An internship in Atlanta that opened a door of opportunities for her when she moved to L.A. She's got a meeting coming in a couple of weeks for a possible record deal. She didn't want to get her hopes up but it was likely that she gets it, otherwise, why would they ask her to come for an interview.

Beca couldn't wish a better life, her dream job was a mere steps away and she couldn't be happier as she played her mashups and watched people go wild on the dance floor. Her set would be over in less than 20 minutes, if it were physically possible for her, she would keep on DJ'ying until the break of dawn, but she was already tired and could use some sleep.

Before starting to pack her equipment, Beca placed her ipod to keep the music going as the DJ that was supposed to take over was running late.

She didn't have to wait for him too long luckily, by the time she was done packing he barged into the booth and started to set his equipment. They acknowledged each other with a nod and she was off to her place to get some much-needed sleep. But before that, she had to use the restroom.

She placed her stuff in her car, locked it then went back into the loud night club.

Walking into the restroom she heard a male voice, which was weird since the restroom was for women only, she shrugged. Hearing gagging noises she figured what was going on. Some chick was throwing up and a guy was with her to hold her hair back or whatever, she didn't need to know, it was none of her business.

After taking care of her business, she went to wash her hands and check how she looked in the mirror. Still badass as ever but the exhaustion was visible.

"Easy there," the male voice said. Beca tilted her head and looked at the brown haired man help a wasted girl walk.

"Need help?" Beca couldn't help but ask when she saw him try to get his hand in the woman's purse but couldn't as he was supporting her weight and she was blacked out drunk.

"Yeah, thank you," he turned around and smiled at her. Beca dried her hands with a paper towel then made her way to him.

"What do you need from her purse?" Beca asked when she reached them.

"Her phone," he curtly answered,

Beca unzipped the purse and looked through it, "Here you go," she handed him the phone.

"Thank you," he took the phone. "Damn it," he clicked his tongue after he tried to unlock the screen and couldn't get through because of the password.

"What's wrong?" Beca asked out of curiosity, she should just leave but couldn't just go.

"There's a password," he shook the phone, "I was hoping to get on her contact list and see the people she talks to the most and call one of them to come and get her," he nodded at the girl.

A beat passed by, "Wait, you don't know this girl?" Beca asked.

"Nope," he shook his head. "She's super wasted and needed help, so I helped now as you can see she's blacked out." He held the girl up when he felt her slip.

"Oh," was all that came from Beca's mouth.

"And I didn't drive here, my friend, who happens to be my ride, blew me off for a girl." He explained. Beca didn't understand why he was telling her all these things, she nodded along. And couldn't stop herself from saying the next words that came out of her mouth. "I can give you a ride,"

"No, you look like you have somewhere to be, I mean you're at a nightclub and you're sober."

"You're sober," she shrugged. "And no, I have nowhere to be, as a matter of fact, I just finished my shift"

Now she didn't know why she was telling him that. He was a stranger, yet she felt like she knew him, it must be the kind eyes he had.

"Shift? Wait, you work here?" he held the girl up again.

"C'mon, I'm giving you a ride, if she pukes in my car, you're cleaning it." She ignored his question.

"Thank you," he thanked her as he took her lead.

"There's a bar a few blocks from here, they have coffee that tastes good," Beca informed him as they walked to the parking lot.

"Okay," Jesse nodded. Feeling the weight on his shoulder, he decided the hold the drunk girl bridal style.

"When she sobers up she'd tell you where to take her," Beca shrugged opening the door to her car. "Wait a sec," she grabbed her equipment from the backseat then placed it in the trunk as he put the drunk girl in the backseat.

"Thank you for this," he thanked her as he jumped shotgun.

"It's alright," Beca yawned starting the car.

"Don't touch that," Beca shook her head when she saw him reach for the radio.

"I was going to turn the volume up."

"No one touches the radio except me," she glanced at him then reached and did it for him.

"Okay," he chuckled.

"I saw the equipment, you DJ here?" he asked to start the conversation, he couldn't stand being quiet.

"Yep," She nodded,

"That's really cool," he leaned against the seat,

"It's not my dream job, though,"

Again, Beca couldn't get why she was opening up to a stranger.

"I wanna produce music," she tapped her fingers on the wheel.

"Well, if your demos are half as good as your remixes and mashups, I'm sure you're gonna make it,"

"Thanks," she smiled at him. "I made a song last year, you might have heard it, it's called Flashlight by Emily Junk." She didn't wanna brag about it being in the hot twenty for weeks.

"You produced that," he turned to her in amazement, "That's a pretty solid track for a newbie," he nodded.

"Thanks," she understood from his tone that he knew music, she wanted to ask him what he didn't for a living but didn't have to.

"I'm still in school," he informed her. "I got a scholarship at film school here, I wanna score movies." he shrugged.

"Scholarship, nice."

"Thank you,"

Looking up, Jesse realized that they were at the bar she spoke about. After parking, he stepped out of the vehicle and helped the girl out.

"Is she on roofies or something?" Beca eyed the drunk girl as they entered the bar.

"No idea." Jesse sat the girl down when they got to an empty table.

"So what's your name?" he asked after they ordered coffee and water for the drunk girl and a couple of beers for themselves.

"Beca," Beca answered. She was leaning against the seat.

"I'm Jesse," He gave her his hand to shake and she arched her eyebrow. "Are you from the east coast?" he asked noting how she didn't want to shake hands. "Cause only people from the east coast would refuse to shake hands with strangers."

"I am actually from the east coast," she sounded impressed.

"Then you must be thinking I'm mentally ill," he withdrew his hand.

"If I thought you were insane I wouldn't have offered to give you a ride," she gave him her hand to shake. "It's just that—never mind,"

He took her hand and shook it.

She just didn't like touching people, strangers in particular. It had nothing to do with the fact that she actually considered any chipper stranger mentally unstable.

"Nice meeting you Beca," he grinned at her letting go of her hand. "You're not fooling anyone, by the way."

"Excuse me?" She arched an eyebrow.

"With the dark makeup and that amazingly scary earspike." He gestured at her face. "It's obvious that it's just a front, and that you're actually a really nice person."

"What, you're minoring in psychology?" she asked, rolling her eyes at him.

"No, it's obvious," he shrugged. "Or maybe I'm psychic."

"You're a weirdo," she was amused by his confidence.

"Yeah well so are you," he looked up when the waiter placed their order.

For the next thirty minutes, Jesse tried to get the girl to drink the coffee, Beca tried helping. She never did it before, help a drunk stranger out, but Jesse seemed like he has done it before, 'cause he got her to drink and actually sober up.

They then explained to her why she was with them, she thanked them and phoned someone to come and get her.

Beca offered to give him a ride, he hesitantly accepted.

"Hey," Jesse said picking up his phone. Beca glanced at him and saw the cheeky grin he had on his face as he listened to the person on the other end of the line.

"I'm headed home… Yeah, I know… You don't have to worry—No, I won't leave the window open… Okay you too, good night." He hung up and held the same grin for a while.

"You mom?" Beca guessed.

"my wife," he corrected.

"You're married?" she said in surprise, then glanced at him, she then saw the weeding band on his ring finger.

"Why is it such a surprise?" he asked

"No, you just look young to be married," she shrugged.

"Well, when it's right, it's right,"

"Totally,"

He didn't miss the sarcasm in her tone.

"What, you're against marriage or something?"

"Nope," she shook her head, "How old are you?" she asked him.

"25—Well, I'm turning 25 in a few months."

She nodded and didn't say anything.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she shrugged.

"No, c'mon, I wanna hear what you think of marriage."

"Marriage is fine, I just think that one should be, at least, pushing 30."

"Why is that?"

"I think that by thirty you mature into adulthood because let's face it, everyone under thirty is not actually an adult," she shrugged. "And people are stupid enough to rush into marriage when they still haven't figured out how to be an adult,"

"That's pretty cynical,"

"Yeah, no I'm sure it's not always the case,"

"It's not," he agreed,

"I hope your marriage works and you grow old together and shit," she turned to look at him.

"Thank you," he smiled warmly at her, "I hope you find someone too"

"Who says I don't have someone?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but like would you say yes if they ask you to marry them?"

"No," she answered casually.

"Then I hope they change your opinion," he shrugged, "because marriage is awesome."

"Thanks, stranger, but I think I'm good." She nodded. "This is the strangest conversation I've ever had with a stranger," she admitted.

"You're not the only one," he assured her. "I know this gonna sound weird, but you're easy to talk to."

"Never heard that one before," she chuckled.

"Well you are," he shrugged.

They got into a comfortable silence for the rest of ride.

"Thanks for the ride," Jesse said when they reached his place.

"You're welcome, weirdo." She watched him unlock the door, "good luck with film school and life and stuff."

"Thank you, good luck with everything. Good night." he grinned at her before he stepped out.

They didn't exchange phone numbers because they doubted they'd cross paths again, it was mutual understanding, and very unlikely so why bother?