Bzzzz. .
A phone vibrates across the floor next to a couch. Beca's hand slaps down and hits the red button.
"Uggh…make it stop," the 23-year-old grumbles as she's splayed out on the couch, eyes closed, arm draped over her eyes.
"You are aware that's a mobile phone and not a vibrator, right?" Fat Amy yells from the kitchen a few feet away the cramped New York City apartment.
"I hate everyone," Beca mumbles as she rolls her tiny frame and buries her head into the crease of the couch, slapping a throw pillow over head.
"You do know that phones are made for talking and communicating," Fat Amy shouts by over enunciating every syllable and miming with her hands.
"Funny," the small brunette grumbles. Amy can feel Beca's eye roll even thought she's facing the other way with her head buried in the couch.
A throw pillow flies across the room and slams into Beca's back. "Owwww. What the?," muffled by the couch.
"Don't make me bodyslam you, short-stack," yells Fat Amy from the kitchen area a few feet from the couch.
"Noooo, leave me alone," Beca groans, shifting on the couch, rubbing her eyes hard.
"Yessssss," Fat Amy says as she takes a cup of ice and pours it over Beca.
"Ahhhhh!" screams as Beca jolts up on the couch.
"Finally!" Amy claps her hands loudly. "I thought I was going to have to light you on fire to get you off that couch."
Beca shoves the ice onto the floor and slumps back down on the couch. "Nice try."
"Oh, no you don't, slacker," Fat Amy runs over and tugs on her arms to sit her back upright. "Couch surfing time is over. Get up and get out."
Beca grimaces as she sits on the couch, shoulders slumped and hair all mussed.
"Time to fly, baby bird. Jump out of the nest or I'll push you out," the Australian says as she pulls Beca up to her feet. Beca looks boneless and on the verge of falling over. Amy puts her hand under her armpits and shoves her into the tiny bathroom and splashes water over her tiny friend's face.
Beca's eyes blink open slowly. She grimaces at her reflection in the mirror. Her face and hair wet as water drips down the front of her plaid shirt. Amy shoves a toothbrush in her mouth and begins to brush. "This is not necessary," Beca garbles out as her mouth foams up. "We need to get you cleaned up so people don't mistake you for a homeless prostitute!"
Beca throws a smirk at Amy. "I read in Lena Dunham's newsletter Lenny that sex work is underrated as a profession. Sex workers should be more highly valued and legalized. Those men and women are talented and should be paid for their hard work. Hell, prostitutes and exotic dancers make way more money than I do."
Amy rolls her eyes, "Everyone makes more money than you do."
"I've always wanted to date a stripper," Beca says wistfully.
"Strippers are hot. You most certainly are not…at least in this state. What happened to your mojo, Mitchell?" Fat Amy retorts.
Amy straightens out Beca's collar then sniffs the air. She sniffs all around the area trying to detect something. Beca looks around nervously, "What? What is it? A fire?"
Fat Amy continues to sniff all around the bathroom, "What is that aroma?" She sniffs towards the toilet, "I can't tell what it is…is a moldy smell?"
Beca begins to look around the small room and in the corners, "Black mold can kill you, you know. It's really dangerous. I saw this whole thing on National Geographic the other day."
Fat Amy goes on with her sniffing routine, "No, not mold. Oh, is it horseshit?" She continues to sniff dramatically around Beca, close to her armpits then up towards her shoulders. Beca catches on and gives Amy a stank face look. "Alright, Amy. You can stop now."
Fat Amy, looks up, wide-eyed and puts her right index finger up in the air as if she has just discovered something brilliant, "I've got it! I know what it is. It's Beca Mitchell's infamous shitty excuses!" Fat Amy lifts her hands up, cradles her friend's cheeks and taps them hard, "Time to go, midget."
"You' know, you're not being a very good host, Amy," Beca scolds as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.
"Beca, you got to New York a week ago and I welcomed you with open arms and nuzzled you to my ample bosom," Fat Amy says as she hugs her friend tightly to her chest. Beca tries to pull away for air. Amy continues, "I let you crash for a week. It's not my fault that you just moped around, pressing ignore on your phone for days on end," argued Amy.
"Amy, where am I supposed to go?" complained Beca.
"You could go to your father's house in New Jersey," Amy replied flatly.
"That would be a big, fat no," declared Beca. "Umm. no offense."
"None taken," said Amy, "All I'm saying is that you have options…plus this is a big city, you'll figure something out. You're Beca effin' Mitchell! Now, go act like it."
Beca looked at herself in the mirror and tried to throw her shoulders back and improve her posture.
"That's it!" Amy slaps Beca on the ass. "Now, leave and don't come back for a few days. Bumper and his parents are coming for a visit and I need to wow them with my fabulous New York City life."
—
Beca decides to walk around the West Village of New York City. It's true. She hadn't done much since she arrived a week ago, but she convinced herself that it was because she was acclimating to her new city. It was busy, frenetic and there were people around all the time. She was an introvert who needed to recharge with downtime and long periods of non-human interaction, protected by her over-sized headphones and deafeningly loud beats spilling from her headphones. As she walked around the narrow streets, her fingers tapped against her leg and she would change her walking pattern to synch up to the beat. It was a crisp, cool day with blue skies and a crackle in the air filled with promise and anticipation.
She had started her walk being annoyed with Amy for shoving her out of the small apartment near Murray Hill, but she was beginning to feel excitement about a new adventure. More excited than she had been in recent memory.
Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
Her music blaring in her ears, disrupted by her ringing cell phone.
Beca fishes it out of her back pocket to look at it. Her eyes scrunch up in anger, her fists ball up in anger. "Take a fucking hint already." She presses ignore and shoves it back in her pocket.
She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to slow her breathing. In and out. In and out. Her fists slowly unclench and she loosens up.
Beca opens her eyes and sees bright blue ones framed by red hair staring right at her, from barely a foot away. Beca jumps like a frightened cat and slams against the brick wall behind her, "Jesus Christ!"
The red-haired girl puts her hands up on the girl's shoulders, trying to get the small brunette to calm down, "Oh, my god. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!"
Beca's head flicks down at the girl's hands on each of her shoulders, her faced covered in confusion and discomfort, "Uh, hi. Uh, it's okay, I guess. Wait, who are you?"
The red-headed girl gives Beca a wide, kind smile which strangely disarms Beca a bit.
"Hi, I'm Chloe," the girl lowers her head and bites the corner of her lower lip, then extends her hand. Chloe leaves her hand extended awkwardly. A grin creeps over Beca's face as she is distracted by Chloe's bite of her lower lip. She stares at it and thinks about how pillowy soft they look. Chloe chuckles a bit which snaps Beca back to reality. Beca looks down at Chloe's extended hand and shakes it vigorously, "Oh yeah sorry, I'm Beca." Beca continues to shake Chloe's hand, not letting go. Chloe puts her free hand over Beca's hand to slow the shaking, she rubs Beca's hand a bit before pulling away. "You're hands are so soft," Beca whispers out loud. Chloe cocks her head at Beca. "Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?," the brunette frets.
Chloe laughs loudly, "Have we met before? I can swear we've met before."
"I don't think so. I would have remembered," Beca says trying to sound confident.
Chloe blushes and looks down at the ground, then back at Beca. "I'm sorry again for surprising you, but I walked by and you just looked so familiar."
"Oh, no worries," assured Beca. "I'm glad you did."
"So, you must be here for the meeting," Chloe asks as she puts her hand on Beca's forearm.
"The meeting. Uh, sure, I can go to that," Beca replies as she remembers that she's basically homeless for a few days.
"Let's go! We don't want to be late!" Chloe takes Beca's hand and leads her into the big brick building on West 13th Street.
Beca took a seat in a circle of about 25 women. She donned a sticker name tag that was written in loopy cursive script by the redhead and slapped to her chest by that same cheery girl. Beca looked around the room, trying to figure out what they all had in common. Some wore suits, others were more casual. Some had long hair, some had short hair. All different ethnicities. Why were they all sat in a room together. Why had the red head assumed that she was here for this meeting. Was it Alcoholics Anonymous? No, there were bottles of wine in the back corner and people sipping on plastic cups of wine. Was it a church group? Ummm, Beca scrunched up her nose at the thought, but it wouldn't surprise her given the redhead's sunny personality. As Beca glances around the room, she sees Chloe talking to a tall, svelte blonde woman with green eyes. She watches them interact. The blonde looks wound up and anxious and Chloe seems to calm her down with an ease in her touch and voice. The sight makes Beca smile and she's not sure why. Chloe suddenly looks her way, smiles at her kindly. Beca's eyes dart up to the ceiling, slightly embarrassed by being caught, then looks back at Chloe who is still looking at her. The redhead winks and a huge grin creeps across Beca's face. "I have no idea what I'm doing here," Beca mutters to herself.
Suddenly, a long-legged brunette walks in and half the heads in the room turn towards her. The dark-haired woman walks over to Chloe and gives her a hug, and then gives the blonde a kiss on the cheek. Beca eyes the situation with curiosity. "How do these girls know each other?" she thinks to herself. As she looks with eyebrow furrowed, the tall brunette casts a glance in her direction and makes a beeline straight towards Beca. The small brunette physically backs up her chair as the tall brunette approaches her, confused by the determined stride of the approaching girl and all the heads that turn with her movement. The tall girl leans down, giving Beca an eyeful of her cleavage, "Hey there, I'm Stacy. Is that seat taken?" Beca nervously shakes her head no and gestures to the seat, "By all means…it's yours." Stacy takes a seat and crosses her long legs in her short dress, her foot rubbing against Beca's calf. The smaller girl looks down at the contact in confusion, then looks up at Chloe who is staring back at her but with a more neutral expression. Beca shrugs and puts her hands up and tries to smile. Chloe gives a half-hearted smile back.
Aubrey claps her hands loudly to get everyone's attention. "Okay everyone. Welcome to the LGBT Center's 20something group. I'm Aubrey and this is Chloe and we're the moderators. We're creating a safe space where all queer or questioning people are welcome. Tonight's topic is safer sex." "With a toy demonstration," the redhead chimes in. Beca feels her face flush and her skin itching all over. How did this room get so hot?