A.N. Well, here it is. The thing that nobody asked me to do but I got inspired to soo…. Also I'm sorry about any minor inaccuracies, I was once in a marching band, but in the UK! Our traditions are quite different from the US (where this AU is based) so I'm sorry if I get anything wrong.
Beca loved music, but she thought she was too cool to admit it. Her type of music was jazz or rock music; the former she played on her clarinet and the latter her guitar. So when she moved to Atlanta, Georgia, to attend the school that her dad had gotten a job at, she was not pleased to discover the only music-related course available was the school marching band. Marching band. This sounds exactly like the kind of crap Jesse would yammer about with his goddamn movies…
"Come on, Be-caw! It'll be fun!"
Beca glared at him. "And this is exactly why I ditched you after two weeks."
Jesse continued, undeterred. "Go on, you've never gone and done this before. If it's terrible, don't go again. But I will tell Mr Mitchell if his daughter isn't 'putting herself out there' like she should be in her high school years. Go on, try it out. I'm telling you now, as a friend that if you go I will conveniently forget to tell Mr Mitchell exactly who broke his favourite mug. And try to enjoy it. Besides," he added, winking at her, "you might meet the perfect guy there. Or girl."
Beca promptly threw a pillow at him.
She smiled fondly at the memory. Now Jesse was a four-hour flight away, much more difficult to throw a pillow at. But now she faced the second week of her new school, with its stupid mascot, The Barden Knight, leering at her from the free plushie chucked her way and the bloody stickers attached to her locker. Worse still, today was the day of the new auditions for marching band. Also, she had to attend. Her dad had found out she was considering it and was so proud, he promised her a new guitar or clarinet. Tears in his eyes, he muttered his pride in his daughter, going so far outside her comfort zone. She shrugged him off and strolled into school, her clarinet conveniently hidden in her sport bag. Beca might be a reclusive music nerd, but she was also a really fit girl under the baggy dark clothes and hoodie.
An hour before auditions, she went for a jog around the track to relax a bit. Clad in a white wicking shirt and short shorts, she did a lap of the 800m to try and get herself to calm down. It took an additional one and a half laps before she did calm down, and it was only due to a sprint she did at the end that left her out of breath and sweaty. A quick shower and off to get ready for auditions… she guessed.
She was greeted by two guys called Tommy and Justin, who told her to fill out a form or two. Tommy regarded her sceptically, barely glancing at her and her worn clarinet. Justin, on the other hand, seemed cheerful and bright, telling her in an unusual note of sadness that he wished desperately he could play an instrument, but had incredibly bad hand-eye coordination.
The best word to describe what happens when a large group of musically minded students group together is chaos. Noise everywhere, talking, giggling, warming up instruments, basslines blasting from headphones etcetera led to a very noisy environment.
She stood away from the other people coming to try out, some forty enthusiastic teenagers blasting brass, amongst other things, to warm it up. She sighed, regarding everything uninterestedly. If it weren't for Jesse, she wouldn't even be here…
"Hiya!" Beca nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked over to her left, where two girls stood expectantly. One was tall, thin and brunette, the other the exact inverse, small, fat and blonde. The brunette held a trombone in lithe fingers, and the blonde carried no instrument.
"Hey, I'm Stacie," the brunette said kindly. "This here is Fat Amy. You're here to audition right? What instrument do you play?"
Before Beca could open her mouth the blonde spoke. As if reading her mind, she said, "Yeeh, Fat Amy's the name. 'Cause otherwise twig bitches like you call me it behind mah back. My real name's Patricia though; but Fat Pat don't have the same feeling does it?" She fist bumped Beca enthusiastically, who certainly less-than-enthusiastically returned it. "So, you know our names, what's yours? I can't keep callin ya Short Stack in ma head, tempting as it may be."
"I'm called Beca. I play the clarinet. And guitar. But for the purposes of this thing," here she rolled her eyes, "I play the clarinet."
"Hi Beca," Stacie said, winking lasciviously at her. "I play the trombone. I got the reach, if you know what I mean." She mimed something certainly R-rated as Beca's face flushed. Quickly dragging her mind off of what Stacie could do to an innocent body like hers, she turned to Fat Amy.
"You haven't got an instrument. Are you here as support or…?"
"Aww, no shortstack, I'm a musician at heart. I play the big-ass trumpet thing that rests on ya shoulders. Called a sousaphone. But I don't carry that mother when I can avoid it."
Beca nodded mutely. If this was what band kids were like, she was going to suffer so badly for this. She was going to kill Jesse. Still, once she got it over with, she was free. And also with a new guitar or clarinet.
"Well, Beca, we'll stick around with you if that's okay. Amy can't be arsed to go get her sousa so we'll get it when she's going to perform. You look like you like to blend in so I guess having your own crowd is good?"
At this moment, they were ushered away to sit down in little rows. A small squadron of people walked out, trailed by two guys she recognised as Tommy and Justin, the boys she met before. She guessed they were important in the marching band. They lined up, some smiling, others stern.
"Welcome," Tommy said, "to the auditions for the Barden Fancies Marching Band. These are the section leaders."
"Donald," a dark skinned boy nodded soulfully from the left. "I'm Trumpet Co-Leader, with Unicycle." A similarly tanned boy waved cheerfully, holding in one hand a unicycle and in the other a trumpet. Beca shook her head. It seemed so stupid, so… weird.
"I'm Kolio. Drumline."
The introductions continued in this fashion until an explosion of ginger distracted her as its owner bobbed toward the front of the stage. Time froze for Beca as she took a second to drink in this girl. She had a short forehead, ginger hair concealing most of it from gaze. Hopeful eyes darted from place to place, scanning the crowd expectantly. She seemed to be wearing a pink lipgloss, her slightly pointed jaw accentuating her cheekbones and lips… hot damn. This girl was gorgeous. In spite of herself, she felt her chest flutter unexpectedly with butterflies. No, she reminded herself, love at first sight is so not a thing. Besides, wait, you're not gay! Lost in her musing, she almost missed what the girl said next.
"Hi! I'm Chloe, I'm in charge of the piccolo section." Searing bright blue eyes met hers, and Beca could have sworn the ginger blushed. The enthusiasm seemed to be hindered by a sudden onset of embarrassment. "Um, uh, this is Aubrey, she looks after the flutes. Or something."
Beca felt Stacie contract next to her as the girl named Aubrey stepped forward. She was shapely and tall, with a confident air to her that seemed infective. She said nothing, only nodding and stepping back to stand next to Chloe - her friend, Beca guessed. "God, she is so hot," Stacie muttered, mostly to herself, but Beca caught it and smiled inwardly. Stacie seemed like the kind of girl who could get anyone she wanted, a fact that for some reason made Beca insanely jealous- but she had no reason to be, right? She didn't fancy anyone…!
The audition was mind-numbingly simple, a few scales and a piece she already knew. Then she was out, with a good luck message from the clarinet leader, a British boy named Luke. He was a cool guy, he recognised what kind of person Beca was instantly, and adapted accordingly. She felt refreshed after her audition and left, enthused.
But, when she thought about how her audition went, one thing kept coming back to her.
A pair of hauntingly blue eyes.