Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect or any of its wonderful characters. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being.

(I know I should be updating my other stories but I just needed to write this down, hope you like it.)

Get a summer job, they said. It'll be fun, they said.

It isn't. At all. Especially if you work at your aunt's old record shop.

Her aunt has always been a music fanatic, like Beca. That's one thing they share in common (weird, considering her aunt is kind of nuts). But unlike Beca, her aunt Lisa likes to listen to lame ass music with her lame ass ancient music players.

It wasn't her idea to get a job. It was her mother's, and if it hadn't been because Beca had promised she'd do something productive in the summer instead of 'pig it out on the couch and watch countless hours of bad TV', she'd have refused. (The Simpson's are a classic, to be honest, and she still doesn't understand why her mom thinks it should be considered 'bad'.)

Working at her aunt's store hadn't been her first choice. Her dad had called her the second she had agreed to get a job and offered her an internship at the university he works at, but there was no way in hell she would spend more than ten minutes with him. Also, no pay? Fuck no. The idea of going to college before she actually had to go to college made her eyes burn. She enters in the fall, and she's so no looking forward to it, so why the fuck rush it?

Then there was also the possibility of walking dogs. But a) animals hate her and b) most dogs are bigger than her and she didn't really think it'd be cool to die squished by a furry beast.

There were a million things she could do. From mowing the lawn to working as a waitress. But she always found a flaw in the job, knowing that if she was going to do something that something would have to be music-driven. Preferably working at a studio with a music producer. That'd would've been great.

Her mom was getting restless when Beca failed to get a job on her own, so when her aunt's offer came in, Beca had no choice but to take it.

And fucking hell does she regret it.

She hadn't seen her aunt since her eleventh birthday when the lady showed up with a freaking parrot on her shoulder. The parrot was supposed to be a gift for Beca. It ended up biting the back of her dad's head (sweet justice) and eating the cake, then it flew off into the sunset and never returned. Her aunt cried for hours. It had been weird as fuck and remembering it gave Beca migraines.

Beca didn't find it surprising to know that her aunt owned an old record shop in a secluded place of town. What did came to a surprise, however, was that the store was widely popular. The store has countless shelves full of vinyl records, along with a coffee machine and a sort of lounge that is often full of teenagers with fedoras and weird ass vests. There are also old magazines from the 1940s and beyond, up until the 21st century. They get customers every day. And fuck is that annoying sometimes.

There is the typical wannabe hipster dude who thinks he's too cool to listen to digital music, the old lady (much like her aunt) who's obsessed with stuff from the 1950s, girls who think that owning vinyl records make them hip, etc. You name it. Lots of strange people visit the store. There once was a hobo looking to buy a Beatles record because it reminded him of his dead raccoon. Beca freaked the fuck out and let her aunt handle the situation (there was no way in hell she was going to help that man summon the dead spirit of his animal with a vinyl record).

It is especially awful when the store is packed, but they manage. Well, her aunt manages, Beca reads.

Mondays are not as jam-packed as Fridays, for example, for which Beca is grateful because she's far from being a morning person (she's only a Weekend person, really). Weekends are mostly empty, and she only has to be at the store two hours. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are as normally full as full can go. Fridays, on the contrary, are a nightmare. It's full of annoying ass teenagers who think they're too cool for the summer. Good thing her aunt lets her leave early, or else she'd be in prison already for punching a hipster-fedora-wearing dude.

Beca doesn't particularly hate her job. She just strongly dislikes it and would love to set the store on fire.

Well, she used to dislike it. Until she came in.

The first time Beca sees her walk inside the store, the girl is wearing a pair of dark glasses and is accompanied by a tall blonde woman with a scowl that could give Medusa a run for her money. She doesn't pay them much mind, because customers are customers and they're probably only looking for a vinyl record of One Direction or Taylor Swift (they look like the type). So she keeps on reading (this time her book of choice is Through the Looking Glass because she's a sucker for children's stories – not that anyone knows that but herself).

She puts the book down when a lady comes over to the cashier to pay for her records - three Elvis Presley records, it must be a new record (no pun intended). The girl who walked in earlier is in the line too, right behind the lady, this time without her companion. She has a couple of vinyl records in her hand and a white cane on the other.

Beca bites her lip, fighting back the urge to look for that blonde Medusa chick and beat the crap out of her for leaving a blind girl alone.

"Hi, Miss? Will you let the girl behind you pass?" She asks as kindly as possible, which earns her an annoyed look from the lady and a chuckle from the girl. A chuckle. An actual one. What's so funny?

The lady steps aside nonetheless and lets the girl walk first. The girl is smiling from ear to ear, and if Beca isn't mistaken, that's a smile that screams amusement. Amusement at her. Beca's too distracted with the girl's smile to notice more people arriving at the queue. It's a big, toothy smile. White teeth. The girl does take care of her teeth. Impressive. Is that a dimple? Oh. Nice dimple. Beca finds dimples cute. It's a big smile indeed.

"That was so kind of you." The girl snaps her out of her trance, making Beca blush. The girl still seems utterly amused at Beca, for whichever reason, and she is obviously having a hard time keeping herself from smiling any bigger. Beca would like her to. "But you didn't have to do that. I'm blind, not impatient. I can wait in line just fine."

Beca bites the inside of her cheek, internally reprimanding herself. What the girl said is true. It's not like waiting in line is a dangerous experience, right? There's no harmful things around. That doesn't mean she's not going to kick Medusa's ass for being irresponsible.

"I'm sorry if it offended you." She says, taking the vinyl records from the girl's hands.

Both vinyls are of the Beach Boys. Interesting. Beca's heard them a couple of times, and she can sincerely say she likes them.

"You didn't." The girl's smile widens a little, making Beca smile out of instincts. Some smiles are really so… contagious.

"So, you like the Beach Boys?" Beca enquires, not knowing why but, out of need to know more about this girl. To listen to her speak. The girl has a pretty voice, too, if there is such a thing as a 'pretty voice'. It's the kind of voice that you'd never get tired of hearing, the kind of voice that would wake you up in the mornings and you'd be glad it did.

The girl nods fervently, "I do! It's one of my favorite bands. I heard them the first time with my dad, and since it's his birthday, I wanted to give him something special. He doesn't have any vinyl records of them, so. We're throwing him a birthday party later on and I honestly can't wait!"

She says it so enthusiastically that Beca can't help but feel just as excited, and she doesn't feel excited that often. Okay, she doesn't feel excited for anything at all. Only when she makes music with her laptop and reads.

"Will there be cake?" Beca asks, wanting to keep the girl talking for as long as possible. She's also taking her time wrapping up the records (actually making an effort for a change), ignoring the fact that the customers behind the girl are getting annoyed. Rude assholes.

"Of course there will be cake. It's not a party without cake, is it?"

Beca agrees 100% on that one.

She opens her mouth to say something else when Medusa appears out of the blue, her eyes boring into Beca's as if she were trying to take a peek at her soul. Or turn her to stone, Beca can't be sure.

"All done here? Chloe, we need to get going. Your brother is arriving from the airport in an hour and I have to pick him up." Medusa says, now ignoring Beca altogether. "We also must pick up the desert and take a shower before the party starts! There's also make-up to be considered, not to mention your musical number!"

Chloe. That's a nice name. A name that would undoubtedly be used to name French perfumes and bagels. The Chloé. Chloe. Beca is interrupted from her train of thought when the blonde places money on the counter, to then tap her fingers on it impatiently.

"Well? Give us our stuff so we can go." Medusa the biggest bitch on the fucking planet orders, and Beca has to remind herself that spending the night in jail again for beating someone up with a broom would mark her as a criminal in her mother's eyes.

"Aubrey, that's not very nice." Chloe scolds her, smacking Aubrey's arm with her white cane. "Sorry, I forgot to mention that she's the impatient one. I bet she's giving you her signature scowl right now."

Beca laughs loudly at that, ignoring the death glares being thrown her way by Medusa.

She counts the money and hands the change to the blonde along with the carefully wrapped vinyls. "Here, you're welcome."

The blonde scoffs without saying thanks and leaves, waiting for Chloe by the door.

"Thank you. From both of us. She's usually not that… rude." She says, fidgeting with her white cane. "It was really nice meeting you, um…"

"Beca. Beca Mitchell." She says it so eagerly that a couple of girls behind Chloe snicker. She'll punch them later. Uh, deal with them later.

"It was nice meeting you, Beca Mitchell." And off she goes, leaving a trail of her smile behind. And a bunch of annoyed customers that would kick Beca's ass if she wasn't hiding safely behind a counter.

Beca doesn't think Chloe will ever visit the store again.

Hell, she doesn't even know why she finds herself hoping that she will.

It's not like they talked much. They talked for about four minutes tops before Medusa - that Aubrey girl – interrupted them. They didn't talk about much. It wasn't nothing special.

Except that it was. Beca can't explain it, but there was something about the girl… About her smile. It was as if something inside of Beca's heart had done a click. A weird sort of click. Or maybe she had been imagining it. Maybe Medusa did turn her into stone and the only thing that did a click was her heart when it froze.

Chloe. A beautiful name.

Chloe.

Chloe, who is blind.

Chloe, whose smile is the brightest smile Beca has seen in ages. No one really smiles much, herself included. It's rare when she does.

Beca shouldn't be thinking about her at all. She meets countless people every day, and sure she never really talks to any of the customers that come by the store and most of the time pretends they don't even exist. But she shouldn't be thinking about Chloe like that.

There was nothing special. There isn't nothing special.

Beca doesn't really believe in the love at first meeting thing. That's such a cliché, and clichés are overrated. And stupid. And not real.

And so what if Chloe's smile is pretty and her voice is as sweet as fresh honey? It doesn't mean anything. At all. She's just another girl who has come by her aunt's store once, and whom Beca talked to briefly. That is all.

"You're thinking. That's odd in you."

Beca lets out a high-pitched scream when she hears those words, turning around to glare at her aunt who's observing her with that 'I'm analyzing the shit out of you and will probably ask my ouija board for answers about what you're thinking later' look.

"Fuck, aunt Lisa. You scared the shit out of me!" She huffs in a very unladylike manner as she finishes stacking the last of the vinyls. It's closing time, and her aunt is very anal about keeping the vinyls in boxes so they don't get all rusty and shit. Beca doesn't want to point out that since they're older than Obama, that they're really old, because that'd earn her a smack on the shoulder.

"I am aware. And you were thinking. Of what?" Her aunt asks, always one to pry on subjects that were none of her concern. "Or should I ask, of whom?"

"I wasn't thinking." Thinking is bad. Overthinking things is worse. And she was doing neither.

"Yes, you were. You had that wishful look on your face and a tiny smile."

A tiny smile? Wishful look? What the fuck?

"Are you high, aunt Lisa?"

Smack.

"I take it you're not high yet?"

Smack.

"Okay, sorry, sorry!" Beca says in between chuckles, running a hand through her hair once she finishes stacking the last of the vinyls. "Fine, I was thinking of someone. But it doesn't matter. It's stupid and pointless and stuff."

"And 'stuff'? You teenagers have a way with words I'll never understand. Who's the girl?"

"How do you know it's a girl?"

"You never smile like that when it's about a boy."

Yep, another proof that her aunt is nuts. It is true that Beca has a preference over girls than boys, but she doesn't have a specific smile for girls. That's stupid.

However, Beca knows better than to fight her aunt on that. If the smacks aren't proof enough.

"Her name is Chloe. She came by the store today. We talked briefly. She left. That's all." Beca explains as promptly as she can, succeeding in not mentioning anything about the girl's beautiful smile.

Her aunt hums, walking over quickly to the very back of the store (where only her aunt is allowed), returning with a cat in her arms. How the fuck did that get there? Beca sure as hell knows better than to ask. "Why didn't you ask her out?"

"Because she was only a customer. And she had to leave to go to her dad's birthday party." And she didn't actually think of asking Chloe out until her aunt mentioned it. It's not like Chloe would've said yes. What if she thought Beca was doing it out of pity because she was blind? What if she smacked her across the face and Medusa turned her to stone right then and there? Who would run the store? Her mom would've had a heart attack.

"So? You had plenty of time to do so."

"We don't even know if she's into chicks, aunt."

"Did she smile at you?"

"Yes?" What does that have to do with anything?

"A smile is one of the most powerful weapons in a woman's arsenal. It can make you fall in love, and it can also destroy you. Boy, can smiles destroy in such a beautiful way…" Maybe her aunt is high already.

"She's blind."

"So?"

"So what if she thought I was doing it out of pity or something?"

"Then you would've changed her mind."

Beca hates arguing with her aunt. With her aunt who's probably high but won't admit it. Her aunt, who is also carrying a probably stray cat in her arms.

"It doesn't matter, okay? It's not like she's ever coming back here, or like I'm going to run into her in some romantic place like the park or a coffee shop."

"Anything could happen, sweetie. Fate has strange plans in store for all of us."

Yep, she's definitely high. Running into Chloe again seemed an impossibility, and Beca is sort of (not) okay with that.

Except that impossibilities can become possibilities in the hands of fate. Something Beca will find out soon enough.