So, okay, omg. Sorry to anyone who reads this who is currently also reading SS and thinking "why?! You have other stories to update!" and the answer is, yes, I'm sorry, but I have discovered the beauty that is Bechloe and I am TRASH for it. But, I'll still work on getting those updates up.
As for anyone else, read, review, follow or fav if you're interested. This will eventually tie into the Bechloe one-shot I also have posted.
Much love 3
It starts, bizarrely, on a Thursday night after some Treble's party- the result of an event that Beca was pretty sure was made up. And the Bella's, being the brazen group of party animals they were- seriously, why did none of them ever pass up the opportunity of booze? Even on Thursday night's?- had of course gone, in the spirit of Acapella, or whatever.
Well, all of the Bella's aside from Beca. Who was thankful, for once, that she was legitimately experiencing a migraine that felt like two gongs being slammed together on semi-regular intervals, and cramps to boot. Despite the fact that many of the Bella's had verbally abused her when she expressed her lack of interest in the event, and, Amy, believing that she was simply lying to get out of it, had dragged her from her bed attempted to get her down the stairs before Chloe had tamed the Tasmanian. And while Jesse's harassment had been in the form of persistent texts, ones that had gotten to be a little too much for Beca- prompting her to simply shut off her cell phone and leave it there on her night stand, she couldn't be persuaded to have her evening any other way.
It was a rare kind of quiet, the kind that was so beautiful she was surprised it didn't move her to tears.
She indulged; after the Bella's had left, she'd ran herself a scalding bath, sat in the tub until the water was chilly, and then returned to her bedroom, where she has currently not moved for nearly an hour and a half. Mind you, about twenty five minutes of that time was spent in a nap that immediately followed her post-bath. Since she woke, however, Beca almost found herself tempted to turn the cellphone back on; mostly out of a pressing boredom that was starting to gnaw at her. Then, resigning to the idea that she doesn't have the energy to even begin to look at Jesse's texts, she'd left it.
Only, this kind of silence with nothing but her own thoughts to occupy her, had lead her down the rabbit hole of becoming steadily more annoyed at the guy, because, he hadn't even expressed concern for her well-being or any interest in accompanying her. To be fair, there was the whole she hasn't looked thing, so who could really say. However, when she'd first firmly told him she would not be attending, he'd just whined and complained that she didn't even care enough to come check out the party he was co-hosting, you know.
So, long story short; Beca was beginning to brood.
And she was so wrapped up in her thoughts, that it wasn't until a creaking on the stairs snapped her out of her reverie. Beca's heart stutters for a moment- her first immediate thought finding the ominous spirit that they Bella's mutually agree lives in the basement- and she has a childish first instinct to throw the covers over her head and pray that idea away. She holds fast, however, clutching the blanket just a little bit tighter against her chest and stiffening- like the ghost has the same senses as a T-Rex. If she stays perfectly still, perhaps she will not be seen.
The fear is short-lived, however, as red hair appears between the railing of the banister; slowly revealing Chloe as she ascends the stairs. Letting out a breath, Beca relaxes slightly, "Oh," At that, the girl's blue eyes turn to her, hand clutching the railing as leverage, "I didn't hear you come in,"
The other girl reaches the top of the staircase with a huff; she's more flushed than usual, and her eyes are a little dull, and seem incapable of staying in one place, as she leans against the top of the banister. This state indicates to Beca that Chloe is, indeed, drunk. And, for the sake of Beca's comfort, should probably move away from the staircase just in case she loses footing or something.
But, after a few long seconds of Chloe rolling her head on her shoulders, Beca furrows her brows, "Have you come to check on me? And did you come alone?"
Because, if so, the walk- although not long- was still a little too risky for Beca to envision a drunk Chloe navigating on her own. To her despair, however, Chloe nods, as though finally finding the strength to answer at least one of the questions. Albeit, Beca is entirely sure which one she was answering to. She assumes both.
"Did you know," The girl screws her eyes shut, the silence dragging out at the end of her sentence.
Usually, Drunk Chloe is cheery, laughing, and ultimately peer-pressuring her fellow sisters into taking more shots. And, as the redhead herself had once self proclaimed to Beca, (while intoxicated) "A menace on the D-Floor, miss Mitchell," And yeah, she had a pension of trying to dance or rap battle with others around her if properly persuaded.
A Wasted Chloe, who Beca has also been acquainted with on more than one occasion, became a little bit more risque with her behaviour. That entailed bumpin' and grindin', as her self-control seemed to dwindle; it is at this stage that she is even more prone to be nudged towards full-fledged Hammered Chloe. She had been seen only on scarce occasions; like bigfoot, or UFO's.
Hammered Chloe, however, is a sight to behold. While Wasted Chloe might emerge after- compared to Beca's ability to intake the substance- a relatively impressive amount of liquor had been consumed, it took even more to get her to this level of drunkenness. At this point, Chloe begins to lose a lot of basic motor skills, such as walking and not swaying heavily to either side- severe giggles, and at this is where the slurred speech emerges, although the girl is still bursting with confidence and cheesy pickup jokes.
Whenever Beca thinks about Hammered Chloe, she is transported back to her sophomore year, where she'd experienced the other girl in this state for the first time. It was during Stacie's birthday party, and Beca had been outside for quite some time at that point, conversing with Jesse and Benji; actively trying to scope out prospects for the other boy. When she'd returned inside, however, she was greeted with witnessing Wasted Chloe melted away into this new stage of intoxication; where she was sitting on the kitchen floor, a gaggle of Wasted-to-Hammered Bella's surrounding her. And, being the group of racous drunks they were; Fat Amy, Stacie, Jessica, and Cynthia Rose were hooting and whistling, and chanting "Shots!" while the redhead nursed the tequila bottle in Stacie's hands as though she were a toddler. At that moment, Chloe probably had the same cognitive and functioning ability of one, too.
Beca was so horrified that she'd stared in shock, but the bottle was inevitably pulled away and Chloe had a goofy smile on her face as the room erupted into cheers- aside from the fact she had tequila down her chin and neck, and her eyes couldn't seem to stay open. Every time she opened them they rolled back in her skull along with her head, resting against the lower cabinets with a sort of absolute drunk ignorance and bliss to, Beca assumed, just about everything happening around her. Beca doesn't think she's ever been that drunk in her whole life.
Alarmed, she'd grabbed onto Jesse and the two of them escorted Chloe to her bedroom despite the Bella's many cries of disapproval. As they made sure the redhead was appropriately positioned so that she wouldn't, you know, choke on her vomit in her sleep or anything- Chloe had incoherently rambled things about loving life and loving Bella's and loving Beca and loving Jesse. She'd patted the girl's head unsurely, placed the garbage can in hurl-proximity to her bed, and Jesse had filled up a glass of water and left it on the night stand. Twenty minutes later, when they'd checked on her, she was passed out on the floor now, near the garbage can, and Beca had readjusted her just as Fat Amy and Stacie burst in with drunken exuberance and taken some pictures. Beca had humoured them, mostly because she knew how mortified Chloe would be in the morning, so posed with her unconscious body like a serial killer; sporting some thumbs up and a "Spring Break!" kind of expression.
But there was a haze to the imbibed Chloe across from her now that Beca didn't recognize. It made her narrow her eyes suspiciously, looking the girl over as she sighed heavily, pinching her forefinger and thumb to the bridge of her nose. Beca suspected she was chasing the train of thought she so clearly just lost.
Pursing her lips, Beca eases herself into more of a sitting position against her headboard; the minutely increased blood flow in her body upsetting the delicate balance of comfort she'd nestled herself into with a painful thud behind her temples.
"I," The girl starts again, opening a single blue eye to peek at her, "the, uhm," She lowers her hand from her nose and waves it around vehemently, "how much,"
"Dude," Beca raises her eyebrows; even Hammered Chloe could usually articulate semi-coherent sentences. These were less than. "Are you okay?"
Chloe sighs, the hand drops to her thigh with dull slap, before climbing up again to rest on her hip. She could see the girl's body rise and fall in a deep, grounding breath. "I am," She tries, once again, her voice slightly firmer. Beca leans forward slightly, anticipating the second part of the sentence. Chloe delivers, with a bashful kind of grin, "What the kids call: stoned."
Before she can catch herself; a strangled half-laugh leaves Beca, but she suppresses it quickly, pressing her lips into a thin line. Despite her state, the other girl shoots her a reproving look, albeit still playful; as if she'd totally been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and she was totally okay with it.
Unfortunately, she continues before Beca can start to tease her, "I have the spins."
"Jesus, dude," Beca gestures towards Amy's bed- which was in closer proximity to the redhead than her own, "Sit down,"
Chloe takes her up on the invitation, shuffling over to the bed and collapsing upon it with another heavy sigh. The girl bounces atop the mattress as her force reverberates through it, but she looks as dreamy as if she were riding the magic carpet from Aladdin.
Much like the sophomore Hammered Chloe incident, Beca finds a devious amount of joy in knowing that this moment was something she would be able to hold above the other girl's head forever. "So," She pries juicily, "How did this happen?"
The other girl grunts, shifting her head so that she's no longer face down in the duvet's, muttering out of the corner of her mouth, "Did you know," This must've been the thought the other girl had lost prior to this moment, "One of the Treble's is dating a High Note?"
"I did not," She confesses, shaking her head. Chloe nods her own in response, blue eyes widening slightly, "Yeah," She says it with specific emphasis. The pause that follows alerts Beca that Chloe may have either forgotten what she was talking about again, or, suffered a marijuana induced social short-circuit that stopped her from properly carrying a conversation, let alone an explanation. Both, was also a very likely outcome.
"So, what happened?" She hedges again. Chloe raises her eyebrows, as though to indicate, with what?
Beca is again struck with the feeling of unease that the girl had wandered from one plain to here- in more ways than one.
The idea makes her shudder, but she rolls her shoulders, because clearly, the girl wasn't murdered or otherwise harmed on the way here. "Like," Clarifying, very slowly, "How'd you get stoned?"
Chloe blinks a few times, glossy eyes staring more so through Beca than actually at her, before a long groan sort of escapes her. "I uh, ate, brownies,"
Of course.
The idea of Chloe toking up a joint or a pipe was harder to imagine than it was to see her ingesting some brownies. Edibles are more understandable; incognito. Hell, she had just about made that mistake once before in her life, in highschool. She was just lucky enough to have someone warn her before she dove in with both hands. Beca feels the corners of her mouth twitch again; in that moment, it was pretty evident how absolutely wrecked Chloe was. She's actually pretty sure the girl is staring at the wall in front of her more than she is with anything else.
Nonchalantly placing her fist against her mouth to cover her grin, Beca hedges on, "Did you know?"
Chloe shook her head.
"I had one," She says, her voice now conveying a kind of regretful sadness, "and shared another half with Amy,"
Beca gasps unwittingly- the one Treble's party she doesn't attend, and all hell breaks loose.
"Was fine at first," The redhead elaborates, inhaling long and slow, her head lolling around against the mattress, "Then an hour later, I felt it,"
"Were you drinking?" It was a stupid question she knew the answer to. Obviously she was drinking. And, judging by the look Chloe is throwing her through her semi-contorted position on Amy's bed, it only affirms Beca's suspicions.
She snorts, prompting that look to shift into something that almost resembled a glare; but it was ruined by the permanently daft expression plastered on her face, given the situation. Beca mirrors the look half-heartedly, and slowly, the girl's cheeks rise in a kooky kind of grin that could only be associated with someone who's severely cross-faded. The girl begins laughing, quietly at first, as if she's trying to repress it, but failing miserably.
Within Beca; the part of her not being repressed by a headache and period pains is telling her she ought to take care of Chloe in this situation; get her a snack or six and a hefty bottle of water, and then coax her into her own bedroom for the night to let her sleep off the effects.
It takes a few more minutes of biding her time, mentally preparing herself for the process, and all, before she eventually pushes herself to her feet. Her head protests with a throb that rivals what she assumes would be what it's like to be conked on the head with the metal end of a shovel. But, alas, like all heroes she perseveres; helping Chloe to her own two feet is a very gruelling process, and, her mental strength already diminishing, she gives up on the idea of getting the other girl anywhere other than this room. Instead, she guides her gently towards her own bed; knowing full well that if Amy comes home she wouldn't want to relocate Chloe after she'd already been passed out. She then sets Chloe up with her laptop, hoping the girl has enough ability within her to work Netflix as she makes her way tentatively down to the kitchen. Any step that was too hard or too fast sent another teeth-gritting pain through her skull.
When she eventually arrives in the kitchen, she fills the largest water bottle she can find with ice water. Next, she raids the cupboards, grabbing a variety of snacks; bananas, chocolate chip muffins, and then she slathers a bagel with cream cheese, calls it a day. She's painfully aware that Chloe will likely eat everything and that she will get crumbs in Beca's bed, but it's a price she pays for not wanting to deal with a change in room residence.
She returns, just as gradually, to find Chloe sprawled haphazardly across the bed, eyes to the ceiling, as opposed to whatever she had chosen to play on the Netflix screen.
Making her way over to her bed, Beca gently places the foods and drink down against her night stand before prodding Chloe's thigh; her bed was small, and since she was being so generous as to share it, the redhead could not indulge in laying in the middle of it. That would not stand.
Lethargically, Chloe seems to get her point. She scoots into the wall with such extreme slowness, as if her blood had turned to molasses, and Beca sighs, shifting into the covers after her. Her head is pounding again, but she powers through it while she arranges her pillows behind her back for some kind of support, and then does the same for Chloe, after wordlessly working her hand between the girl's shoulder blades and sort of hoisting her up. She obliged, however, folding in the middle and slumping into herself.
Next, Beca rearranged the laptop into the middle of the bed; pained to see the movie of choice was Homeward Bound. She says nothing, however, and hands Chloe both the bagel first and the oversized water bottle. Dazed, Chloe stares at them for a moment, before reaching out with what appeared to be atrocious depth perception as the hand sort of crashes into the bagel before sloppily groping around it, and it makes Beca cringe for both Chloe and her own self, because now there was cream cheese all over the girls hands, and inevitably, it would end up on her sheets somehow. If she weren't sick, she would have the energy to care. But, that's not the case; she feels a bit more like she's accepted the fact of the world's inescapable sun death or global warming. It's here, it's happening, it's coming.
At least it's just Chloe. She has the good sense to know that, if it were almost any of the other Bella's who'd wandered into her bedroom, high as a kite, she wouldn't have the patience to deal with such shenanigans.
Maybe it's because Beca knows that Chloe's guilt once she comes to will be enough to have her practically running circles around Beca, or the fact that Chloe has been her own personal nurse on more than one embarrassing occasion in the past. So, some babysitting was really due. It was the universe evening the odds.
The worst thing, however, was the sound of Chloe's dry-mouth smacking as she tries to chew the bagel- which Beca would like to put a stop to, like, immediately. She grabs the water bottle from between them, taking the liberty of pulling up the little straw thingy and pointing it in the redhead's direction.
"Open," She demands, and Chloe pauses abruptly, mid-chew, alarmed. Her eyes widen and her brows furrow as if Beca had just asked her to drop her pants. With a roll of her eyes, Beca proceeds without express permission, nudging the straw part at Chloe's lips, until she hopefully catches Beca's drift.
"I'm chew-" The other girl protests, sounding absolutely scandalized, and Beca closes her eyes.
"I know," She whispers, "You're chewing loudly. It's hurting my head."
There's a pregnant pause, before she feels Chloe fumbling around with the bottle. Only then does Beca open her eyes again, watching as the girl concentrates with her free hand on gripping the base of the bottle and taking a long sip. She gets cream cheese on it, which is disgusting, and makes Beca feel a bit queasy, but she decides against complaining. It was no use, and she'd feel like a jerk if Chloe was incapable of understanding that she's half-joking and takes it personally, instead.
Afterwards, Chloe resumes her snacking, occasionally humming appreciatively, but every two bites or so, the water bottle process had to be repeated. Beca notes mentally that she would never be choosing to give anyone under any sort of influence a cream cheese bagel ever again.
Once it's done, what feels like twenty minutes later, Beca urges Chloe to clean the cream cheese from her fingers. The girl agrees, awkwardly sticking her fingers into her mouth; which is when Beca decides Homeward Bound was better than the scene in front of her. And then, Chloe shifts, sliding down from her pillow back rest and opting to instead rest her head right against the mattress, one hand slipping under the pillows, the other suddenly clutching Beca's forearm. Stiffening, she gazes down at the girl- steadily, she guesses, the redhead is drifting into unconsciousness.
"I miss Aubrey," Chloe says, her breath warm against Beca's arm.
"Really?" She responds, quirking an eye. She could only imagine the tension if the blonde were in her current-babysitting position. "She'd kill you right now, you know,"
Chloe shakes her head, "No, she'd know it was an accident,"
Beca can grant her that. As much as she liked to paint Aubrey like the villain from her freshman year, she knew that wasn't the truth; the redhead across from her was entirely responsible for her, at times, open-mindedness about that. A part of her still felt petty, though. Yet, she can concede to the idea that after Aubrey's initial freak out, she'd be like, probably the most caring mother-type figure in this situation.
"You're special, Becs," That sort of knocks her over the head a little; the feeling of Chloe's hand squeezing around her arm as she pulls herself closer into Beca's side. It'd been abrupt, and uncalled for- and, most jarringly- a compliment. Beca never knew what to do with those. The context, however, was a little bit blurrier than it usually was when she received one. She flounders, her mouth gaping open and closed like a goldfish. Chloe continues before she can capture her thoughts, however, "I'm glad I have you,"
It's Hammered Chloe talking again- just, under a different circumstance. It's "I love you Beca. So much. Oh, Jesse, I love you, too," All over again.
Uncertainly, she sort of pats Chloe's head like she's a spaniel, and hopes the girl will drift off soon. She does.
But the words stay with her; like ghosts that hover over and around her, making her feel like there's eyes prying at her skin. Maybe it was the sincerity in which Chloe spoke them- but, that wasn't necessarily new. Chloe Beale was the single most genuine person Beca had ever met up until this point, and, she's pretty sure she will ever meet following the next seventy years of her life. Give or take. So, being this earnest person, Chloe had expressed her appreciation of Beca on more than one occasion, often out of the blue. She should be used to it by now, but she's not. Every time she isn't sure how to respond.
Which is, admittedly, a reoccurring problem in Beca's life. Even as a child, her mother expressing love to her made her feel uncomfortable- hugs made her squirm, and those moments where her mom would try to wrap her in an embrace while watching the Lion King made Beca feel like the walls were closing in on her.
The first time Jesse had said, "I love you", Beca had froze, blacked out for a span of about ten seconds, her blood pressure probably rose dangerously, and the only thing she could come up with in response was a manic sort of laugh, as she rose her hand into the air, and declared, "Up top, dude!"
Poor Jesse hadn't even realized that that was a panicked reaction, and returned a crisp high five to her. It had eaten Beca alive for about three months, until one day, she built up the courage to tell him back. Because she did love Jesse, he was wonderful, and had quietly understood her for years now. Mostly, though, she told him because she didn't want him to feel bad. Being in love with Jesse seemed like a huge commitment. So, she wasn't rushing anything. Maybe that's why four years later she's still in the Bella house and he's still renting a dorm room and they haven't even begun to talk about what comes after.
The personal space thing, she'd gotten a bit better with. It was something you learn to accommodate when living with a bunch of brash women who still believe in dog piles, and have no problem using physicality to get a point across (such as dragging one from their bed), or helping one another with dance steps. The biggest offender in the Beca Personal Bubble, however, was the redhead beside her.
Beca reflects on this thought a lot, whenever Chloe does something- like fall asleep with a hand on Beca's arm- that would have made Beca uncomfortable in the past. And, maybe Chloe audaciously bursting into her shower the second time they met broke down some of those barriers for her. Chloe had forced herself in, more and more absurdly as she informed Beca that Titanium was her lady jam- something that no others had ever discussed with her, ever, and thank God for that- forced Beca to sing it with her. And, to not be forgotten, the junk that refused to be covered. Yeah, Chloe was confident about 'all that', and she hasn't really given Beca a reason to forget that a day since. Chloe was one of a kind.
So, she'd wormed her way in. For God's sakes, they'd seen each other naked right off the get-go, so, maybe that's why they skipped all the other awkward parts. Why she resigned to being a bit more open with the redhead, because, hey, meet me nude in the shower and force me to sing with you? It's probably illegal, but damn it, Chloe had done it anyway in the spirit of keeping acapella alive.
And it's like Chloe knows it; her ability to slip in a bit easier. And she, occasionally, uses it to her advantage.
And Beca's pretty sure she doesn't mind.
Four years ago, this would be a daunting thought. There was a reason she worked on building up her walls, and she would not want them crumbling so easy. What kind of shitty architect was she? Yet, here she was. Sometimes, it still panicked her. Even more so lately, as the Bella's rolled into their senior year and Beca was forced to think about how her 'real life' was around the corner, and maybe this was something like a fever dream, because her walls had helped her up until this point- and what if without the Bella's around to start chipping away at her brickwork she needed those walls to keep her safe again?
Right now, however, Chloe was asleep beside her, Homeward Bound was on, and Beca wasn't sure what time it was but she feels like she can hear another few Bella's stumbling around downstairs. And so she, too, lets herself relax and allows sleep to come for her. She'd have more time to worry in the morning.
Right now was okay.