Alright I should explain some things first I guess. So I've done some Multi Chapter fics before that I never continued so I'm trying to actually finish this one, I already have about 4 chapters done so every time I finish a chapter, a new one goes up. I've already got most of the plot done so I'm really excited for this one, I'm planning on it being like 40,000 words when it's done, so be prepared!
Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Pitch Perfect but if I did all the Bella's would be gay.
Beca Mitchell was never one to open up.
It was one of the reasons she had insufficient amount of friends compared to most since she could remember, the reason she had been constantly bullied by her peers. They'd throw scrunched up paper balls in her direction, most of the time missing, or poorly constructed paper airplanes towards her face during lunch or recess.
She grew up as an only child in the middle of a dysfunctional marriage between Warren and Rose Mitchell, therefore she was mostly alone throughout her time growing up. They had almost completely rejected her presence when she was home and sometimes barely acknowledged the fact they even had a daughter. By the minuscule amount of sounds that actually came from her she quite possibly could've gone missing and neither parent would've known until informed that she hadn't been going to school. Beca was fine with it, her parents were drunk imbeciles most of the time, constantly yelling words Beca hadn't even known existed until she looked them up, almost instantly regretting it.
Her alternate clothing style from the others was another reason the children had decided she would be their target for the next few years of their young lives. Her dark style and almost brooding attitude caused them to believe she was 'emo', not that they even understood any deeper meaning in the word besides the fact that it meant a 'wussy' or 'goth' person.
As the teachers ignored what the other students did to her more and more, the more she was pushed around. She could barely tolerate any of it, but she had to make it through. She had no where else to go, obviously, if she didn't attend school her parents would yell and she wouldn't want to risk it getting physical at home than let it get physical at school. It couldn't get much worse anyways, if it did get violent the teacher would have to acknowledge, right?
She was wrong. It had become dramatically worse overtime, from paper to spitballs to wedgies and finally Indian sunburns and hard punches to the arm or stomach. She was still all alone and no one was going to save her anytime soon.
She had reached twelve, and was still only four-foot-seven, the smallest in her grade and one of the smallest in the middle school, grades six through eight. She was in seventh grade by the time the bullying had reached it's high point. During this time she was trying to learn how to defend herself, whenever a classmate would come by and grip their fist with their other hand, showing that they were about to give her another whoopin', she would attempt to stand up and show them who was boss.
Of course though, whenever she decided to stand up for herself, that was when the teacher would step in and come save the other child, Beca had the record for most detentions in her class and neither she nor her parents were proud. They had scolded her for almost three hours that day when she came home. She sighed, how could this be the only way to get their attention?
The brunette learned to try and control her anger, she put her fighting days behind her then. One day, she was cornered in the locker room by a few girls during gym class after a game of dodgeball, she was cowering in the corner trying to change as they approached her. "Oh look, it's baby Mitchell." The group began to laugh at the smaller girl, the nickname was barely clever in Beca's eyes. She was short, she'd give 'em that but she wasn't small enough to be a baby.
A brunette with piercing brown eyes swiftly brought her fist back, she was about to let it descend towards the short girls face, but a different arm grasped her elbow to refrain her from such actions. "Leave her alone," a high, yet gruff voice stated.
Beca couldn't see who it was but she was definitely thankful, no one had ever helped her in this sort of way. When one of the girls scoffed and muttered 'Let's go, she's not with our time,' that's when she stood up. She dusted off her palms against her pants and looked up, her dark, stormy-looking blue eyes meeting a pair of light green orbs. The girl in front of her looked like a prude, her lips pressed together to form an almost perfect straight line, her golden locks combed and locked down into her back with an elastic band tied around the wild strings. Her clothes were neatly ironed and free from any wrinkles, a cream colored blouse with a red plaid skirt and white leggings. Her ink colored shoes shined, and Beca smirked. This girl was exactly what you'd see in movies, the stereotypical geek who gets way too obsessed with her studies to notice the cute boy checking her out who eventually catches her eye and in a shocking moment she'll come to prom with a complete makeover to win him over from his original stuck up cheerleader girlfriend.
Of course, Beca hadn't voiced this thought until years later. That's right, after the encounter Beca and Aubrey, which she learned was the girl' name, became fast friends. They had no others but each other would suffice.
They ended up going to prom together, platonically of course. Both knew they were attracted to the fairer sex but they also had friendzoned each other and that's exactly how they liked it. There was going to be no cliche movie trope where the girl falls for her best friend, or the girl/guy gets out of the so called 'friendzone', they were just friends and never left each other's side. Aubrey had helped Beca through college when she almost dropped out and Beca had helped the blonde through her most devastating of breakups. Aubrey being attracted to girls, boys, and the other genders, had given a lot of people chances at dating her, so when one out of three ended badly, Beca had to be there to help her friend.
They were now both twenty-five, living in an apartment in Burbank, California.
Beca had become a school psychiatrist to help students who are closed off or bullied, help she wished she had access to during her schooling. Whenever a child would come in with purple-blackish lining under their eyes from depression, or just from a child being physical, she would put everything into the 'case' to help this child.
Aubrey had become a lawyer at a company she had built from the ground, each case and each new lawyer was a new step up and she was making her best friend proud. They had their fair share of relationships though, but now both were still single and definitely ready to mingle. They were each other's wing-woman, and though they were surprisingly good at it, neither was able to get more than just another girl (or guy in Aubrey's case) to bed.
On occasion they would go to gay bars in the area, both Aubrey and Beca had learned that the stereotype that lesbians were always ready to commit and move fast in relationships was true. Besides a few outliers in the stereotype, including Beca herself, their best relationships had been with lesbians.
They limited their time at gay bars though, Aubrey refused to return to one after a gay male had misinterpreted her as a drag when they began talking. Of course when he explained after Aubrey had throw her drink in his face at the accusation, she learned he thought she was just a really good drag queen. That didn't make it better though and Beca knew by the fact Aubrey's self esteem dropped lower than the temperature had that winter. Though Beca felt bad, she still laughed anytime Aubrey brought it up. It was quite amusing if she did say so herself.
It was almost time to give up, they both thought. But who were they kidding, they were both twenty-three, they still had a lot of time left. If not, they still had that pack that at forty if they were both single, they would date. They knew it wouldn't end well, maybe bumping it up to forty-five would work better. Beca hoped and prayed some nights that it wouldn't have to come to that; she wasn't even religious, and Aubrey wasn't even that bad. They just wanted different things that just so happened to not be each other.
—
Chloe Beale was not ordinary.
Most didn't know whether it was her always happy attitude or her touchy-feely self, but there was something that they couldn't pin point directly. Maybe it was everything she was, and the fact that she was quirky and weird, yet not the typical ugly school girl most thought of when reminiscing about this type of person they had once encountered. Instead, she was a gorgeous girl with fiery red hair and sky blue eyes that made you attracted to her instantaneously, unable to tear your eyes away.
Her best friend, Stacie Conrad was not unlike her, but they shared their differences. While Chloe was pursuing a field in medicine to help those in need (She had always been a people person), Stacie was a struggling actress near hollywood that barely could hold onto a career before she had to move onto the next. It wasn't that she was a bad actress, it's just no job could hold out long enough to make it to television or surpass a first season. Even then, she mostly participated in commercials that showed up maybe once a week on her television screen that she shared with her roommate, gaining compensation from each one to pay the rent. Stacie was also touchy-feely, but she was more in it for the reward of attracting a man or woman, the sex, not just the fact she couldn't keep off of anyone for more than five minutes like her counterpart.
They had been both living in Burbank since they had moved there after college, they were sorority sisters that actually fulfilled their promise of keeping in touch with their best friend once they had graduated.
They had met during freshmen year when they had joined the Bella's, a house full of hot, young girls with nothing better to do then gossip about boys or their creepy teachers and eat nothing but crumbs, so doing it all together with a bunch of girls who were basically exact replicas was a fun activity in their minds.
Chloe was at first a bit shy but Stacie loosened her up by sleeping with her the second week, neither admitting they had remembered the next morning. They didn't want to risk their new friendship so they avoided the subject but stayed strong.
They were both twenty-four, right out of college the year before. Chloe was in med school while Stacie was acting and paying off student loans. Both had come out to each other during their junior year in college, Stacie pansexual, apparently she just 'liked hot people' and Chloe as bisexual.
They basically already knew it, the drinker escapade in their first year was more than just experimenting, but neither wanted to date the other. Stacie wasn't exactly one for romance or fidelity and Chloe was looking for someone a little more, bad boy? She didn't exactly understand it, but Stacie had explained to her that she seemed to go after the bad boy type, leather jackets and aviators indoors.
The redhead may have denied it but deep down she knew it was definitely true, her last girlfriend was suspended for spray painting another sorority and her ex boyfriend prior to that had added half a ton of Koolaid mix to the school's pool right before the championship race along with his other friends.
Chloe had been looking for a girl or boyfriend for almost a month, there was little to no progress and Stacie was too busy auditioning to have any random intercourse with a stranger, so they both decided that when their schedules lined up and they both had an open day, it was time to head down to the nearest bar and drink their petty sorrows away. It just so happened that a few miles down the road from them, another pair of women had just come home from their busy schedules to make almost the exact same plan. Their schedules all had lined up coincidentally, and on the following Saturday they would all depart, Stacie and Chloe at eight, and Aubrey and Beca at nine. This may have been what they were waiting for, a relationship or two could sprout, this one event could change the course of events forever.