A/N: I love reviews! 10 reviews and the next chapter will be posted. Any questions can be asked at my tumblr, the url is fluxural.

His hand is on her arm, a silent plead for her to stay. It could be considered force. Beca wrenched her arm free and held her hand up, giving him a look that could kill. Not just kill, explode to smithereens.

"Don't touch me." Beca hisses, shooting him another glare when his arm hastily makes a move to grab her again.

"Beca…" Dr. Mitchell murmurs. He's giving his signature apologetic look and Beca's done falling for it. She's done with all of this.

"No. I'm not dealing with this anymore, Warren." The use of her father's first name was no longer foreign on her tongue; she did not consider him a father figure, nor were they close enough like that.

"Please, just, give me another chance." He slurs, lumbering after her. Beca gave a groan and stepped back, stumbling over something that was littering the floor. That was the final straw. She could only be in a dirty, disgusting, unkempt house for so long before she felt dirty herself. Knowing that her father was in no state to make it up the stairs, she pushed him back lightly and found her way to her bedroom. Beca was never the person to plaster her walls with posters – she preferred two or three framed posters, her DJ equipment, and a half-assed made bed. That's all she needed. Quickly, she grabbed her clothes and belongings and shoved them into a raggedy suitcase, letting out a sigh of exasperation when the pull handle wouldn't even go out. She grabbed the cloth handle and turned to her room to look for a moment. Beca hoped this would be the last time she saw her own room. She wasn't emotionally connected to her bedroom at all, honestly, but there was still some sentimental value. Her mother reassuring her that the cancer would go away, or waking up to a bottle of Advil on her nightstand after she had been out all night drinking with not so admirable friends. Her mother forgave her every time.

The DJ trudged downstairs, her suitcase clanking against the splintered wooden stairs angrily, and brought her stuff out to her car, briskly going back inside to grab her DJ equipment. When her father stood in front of the door, she glared at him.

"There is no way in hell that I am leaving my equipment here. Get out of the way, you insufferable drunk." The words stung, she could tell by his face. He moved to the side without a word. I think he knows this time I'm serious. This isn't a threat to leave, I'm actually done. I'm actually leaving here. Beca though, keeping the smile off her face. She tucked her sound equipment uneasily under her arm and quickly left, walking out of the door, not looking back once at her father in the window watching her leave, making no move to stop her. Typical.

The secretary of the first real estate office she walked into looked at her as if she was the scum on the bottom of her leather Louis Vuitton boots. Beca couldn't blame the woman – she looked like crap. Her hair was bedraggled; her clothes were wrinkled but presentable; and her face looked as if she hadn't slept in days, which she hadn't. The secretary cleared her throat, her judgmental eyes raking up and down Beca's body.

"…May I help you?" She questioned, a tone of boredom in her voice.

"Uh… yeah, I'm looking to find someone that can show me some houses in the area?" Beca said quietly, trying to seem like she wasn't some dirty homeless person, but that was what she was. She was homeless.

"Mhm… I see. Let me go see if anyone is open to show you around." The woman stood up languidly as if she was in no rush and sauntered off to the back. Beca turned to look outside. It was a sunny day in Atlanta, Georgia. She was hundreds of miles away from her father, thank god. Interestingly enough the town of Barden attracted her the most. It was a quiet suburb that she could work on her music on, and the town was famous for its big league record company, Barden Records. Oh, what a dream it would be to get a job there. Her attention was dragged from her fantasies when the woman returned with a tall brunette dressed in rather revealing clothes. Beca raised her eyebrow and stuck her hand out to meet the woman's.

"Hi, I'm Stacie. I'll be your real estate agent for today." She shook Beca's hand strongly, giving her a smirk. At least this girl didn't gawk at me like the other one did. Heather, it seems. Beca concluded, reading the secretary's nametag quickly before leaving the small office with Stacie.

"So, I've got to ask the basic questions. What's your budget, and are you looking for a home or an apartment, or?" Stacie asked politely, walking at a slow pace so she could multitask.

"Apartment, if that's possible and very low budget. But please don't put me in some questionable place with barred windows." Beca joked, eliciting laughter from the other brunette.

"You're funny. Don't worry, hon'. There aren't any places like that around Barden. This is a generally peaceful area." Stacie reassured, bringing her to the first apartment on the list.

"Here we are. 7601 Judd Avenue." The tall woman waved a hand out like she was Vanna White. Beca gave a weak smile, taking the first step inside the building. There were multiple available apartments in the building, apparently it was new. And it was well within her budget. Beca's hand dragged along the stucco walls softly, testing the craftsmanship. There was no chipped paint, no dim yellow lights. In fact, it was very welcoming. Stacie brought her to the top floor, where 2 apartments were open. They were the same price as the others, despite the amazing view out the apartment that Beca went inside. She could see the town square from here, and the people bustling around. And it was quiet. She could actually get work done here.

"I love it. I'll take it."

"What?" Stacie asked incredulously. Normally, customers wanted to see everything that was up to offer.

"I love it. It's perfect." Beca repeated, turning to Stacie. The brunette had an abashed look on her face, which caused Beca to grin.

"U-Uh… alright. Let's go back to the office then and we'll get the paperwork all set up."

"Great."

A few days later, Beca was the proud owner of Apartment 510A on 7601 Judd Avenue. It had a certain ring to it, didn't it? There was something so alluring about designing an apartment with a minimalist mindset, and it helped that she was so poor. Her place was comfy. It was home to her, and she was finally away from her father and her life in Greenwich, Connecticut. It was all behind her.

It was only a few days before she found out she was going to gain a neighbor soon. Some young girl around her age was moving in, and by the looks of it, was alone. No kids, no boyfriend. Hopefully she wasn't too loud, nor would complain when Beca needed her own music to be loud enough to drown out the music of life.

The day that the new resident moved in was a hectic one. Her family and friends were visiting every hour to wish her good luck in her new position at Barden Records. Wait. Did they all say Barden Records? Jesus, this chick must be either world renowned or has a daddy in the business. Beca felt like a creep listening to their conversations, but the walls were thin and she couldn't help herself knowing the information that she now knew.

A few hours after Beca assumed the last visitor had left, Beca grabbed some cookies from a box and plated them fancily to make it look like she had the knowledge to cook something other than ramens, and she couldn't even do that sometimes. Good enough, she concluded, grabbing the plate and wrapping it in saran wrap. Nervously, she walked over to the apartment next to hers and fixed her clothes. She had to make an impression on this woman if she was as high up in Barden Records as she seemed to be. Knocking on the door gently, Beca threw on a fake smile and waited. When the woman opened the door, she felt her knees waver slightly. Jesus Christ, she's beautiful.

"Hi, you must be Beca. I'm Chloe." The stunning redhead stuck her hand out, giving a cheshire grin.