AN: SEQUEL ALERT! I have some ideas but they're everywhere. I sat down and tried to write the first chapter and voilà. I didn't see a reason to keep this on my laptop and not share it with you, internet people. Enjoy.


Waking up at 1 :25 am on a Monday would piss off anyone, especially someone that treasured sleep like Beca Mitchell. She was more frustrated than she was pissed off because it wasn't the first time she'd wake up at an unholy hour because of a wet dream.

She forcefully tossed the covers aside and hopped off of the bed, making her way to the kitchen to drink a cup of water. What frustrated her the most was the fact that her dreams always ended too soon, she would never make it through the entire dream. There's that and the fact that in her dreams she was always with the same person. A person she hadn't seen in months but had kept in touch with. A person she had been trying for months to stop loving and wanting.

She thought it was pathetic on many levels that, although it had been over 6 months since he had left, her feels for him were still the same.

Beca placed back the cup and made her way to her bedroom. Standing in the doorway, she decided to take a bath. It sometimes calmed her down enough to go back to bed and sleep what was left of the night because, usually, when wet dreams would wake her up she'd spend the rest of the night lying in bed, itching to go buy a pack of cigarettes and get hammered then wake up the next day with an awful hangover.

She didn't need a hangover. She didn't need to fall into a self-destructive lifestyle.

Beca was filling the bathtub when she heard her phone ring. She knew who was calling her. And, she also knew that she should ignore it yet she couldn't. She walked to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone, right after she took off the t-shirt that she was wearing.

"Hi," she said first, picking up.

"Heyyy, bestie. I miss you."

Beca sighed at his slurred speech.

"Jesse, you should go to bed. It's like four in the morning in New York," she walked into the en-suite bathroom.

"I don't feel like going to bed."

"You have to. But, first, you're gonna go drink water. And, if you don't I'll hang up."

She heard him heavily breathe as she stopped the water when the bathtub was full.

"You know I will," she said as she kicked off her shorts when he didn't respond.

"Fine," he groaned. "So, how are you?" he asked.

She could hear a noise that sounded like opening a fridge as he talked.

"I'm great," she shrugged, getting in the tub. She rested her head back and closed her eyes.

"I miss you. When are you gonna come visit?"

"When I have to be there, you'd be the first to know," she assured him. "Drink water, Jesse," she reminded him.

"Hold on a second," he said.

"Okay," she replied.

The hot water was so relaxing it was hard to stay alert and hold her phone close to her ear.

"I just finished a bottle of water," he informed her, waking her up from her semi-sleep.

"Now go to bed," she urged him to go to bed knowing that he'll regret staying up this late.

"I wanna talk to you."

"We'll talk later."

"You always say that but we never do. You just text me that you're busy, which is a fucking lie. You don't want to talk to me anymore."

His rant was hard to follow because of his slurred speech.

"Jesse, of course, I want to talk to you. But it's really late, and, we both have work to wake up for in a few hours," she reasoned with him.

He went quiet again and the only thing that assured Beca he was still there was his heavy breathing.

"I almost hooked up with a girl today," he told her.

"Why didn't you?" she asked.

"You know why."

"No, I don't," she denied.

"Yes, you do," He chuckled.

"Well, whatever it is that is holding you back you have to let it go."

"I can't," he breathed while making a noise that sounded like hopping on a mattress, "I can't let it go- I can't stop thinking about you- I can't stop wanting to hold you and kiss you-"

"Jesse, I'm hanging up-" she said in a sharp voice she has mastered to fake.

"-no, no, don't."

"Don't talk to me like that then. We're friends. You don't talk to friends like that," she continued in the same sharp voice then sighed. "Jesse, go to bed," she said as she played with the water between her fingers. "Jesse?" she called when he went quiet.

"Jesse, you there?" she sat up, starting to worry about him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

She could hear how he hurt he was through his tone and it made her heart sink. "How's your dog?" she asked, changing the subject.

Jesse had adopted a Shiba Inu after a few weeks of living in New York.

"Bender is fine," he replied, "sleeping at the foot of the bed," he informed her.

"Sam likes to get on his back and he does not like it."

"Oh, yeah?"

"She just chases him around while he runs for his life."

"I bet that's fun to watch," she chuckled.

"It is."

Beca pulled the phone away from her ear to check the time and saw that it was 2:12 am.

"Jesse, it's getting late."

"Okay," he breathed, "I'll leave you alone."

"Good night or good morning, whatever works," she said.

"Good night. I love you," he hiccupped.

"I love you, too," she replied before hanging up then huffed realizing she said it back and hoped he'd forget that he called her when he wakes up.

She sighed dropping her arm over the bathtub and closed her eyes. She missed him. It wasn't just the physical aspect that she ached for. She missed waking up to the smell of breakfast he'd make. She missed finding the dinner he'd leave for her in the fridge. She missed hearing him sing to himself while he cooked or baked. She missed the times they'd watch movies together and he'd ruin them with the non-stop trivia.

He was a great roommate for over four months. Had been a great friend for ten months. And, was a great lover a week. Letting him go was hard, but she sucked it up and was trying to move on with her life.

They didn't even date. They spent a week together and that was it. She couldn't justify why was hung up on him. She partially blamed him for it because he refused to cut communication and insisted they'd stay in touch. Staying in touch and staying friends was the mature thing to do but it was hard and she wanted to stop answering his texts and calls but couldn't. He wasn't doing anything wrong by checking up on her and being a good friend. They never talked about the occasional drunk calls they both made. Texting 'Sorry' the next day to acknowledge it was all they did.

Feeling the water get colder, Beca opened her eyes. She held her phone up and saw that it was 3:00 am. She got up, wrapped herself in a towel and made her way to her bedroom where she wore back her clothes before she went back to bed.


7:00 am sharp, her alarm clock went off. She cursed under breath, turning it off before she pulled a pillow over her head. Five minutes later, her phone chimed with a text. She reached for her phone, knowing the content and who texted her before she even looked. She sighed at the text from Jesse that read: Sorry.

"Way to start a week," she murmured sitting up.


Her schedule was beyond monotone but it didn't bother her.

She got up.

Showered.

Got dressed.

Hit the road.

Stopped at a Starbucks for coffee.

Got to work on time.

Worked her ass off until five.

Went home.


She got out of her car, wore her messenger bag and earphones, to avoid chitchats with co-workers in the elevator, and wore her sunglasses before she locked her car and started to make her way to the label's building.

Being it Monday meant that her boss would drop by. He was a very busy and successful guy. He never annoyed her with unnecessary small talk. She liked him.

She was working with interns for the day, which meant talking her thoughts and listening other people talk. She preferred to work by herself but in her job talking was needed because reading thoughts was impossible.


"Mitchell," Beca heard her boss call as she made her way back to her office.

"Yes," she turned on her heels and watched him lift his sunglasses on top of his head.

"Follow me to my office," he said as he walked past her.

"Okay," she took his lead.

She sat down when he nodded for her to sit. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Yes," he drummed his fingers on the desk as he eyed her.

"You've been with us for over two years now," he started to say.

I'm getting fired. Beca thought as she leaned against her seat.

"The album you've produced got an overwhelming critical acclaim and the sales surpassed the figures we thought it would do."

"Hard work pays off," she said when he went quiet.

"It does," he agreed. "I wasn't so sure when Arthur suggested your name to work on the album but he's the head of A&R here and he's good at what he does."

Beca nodded along, not knowing where he was going with this talk of his.

"What are your ambitions in life, Mitchell?" he asked.

"To make music," she answered.

"That's it? All you want to do is make music?" he arched his eyebrows.

"No," Beca sat up.

"I want to do what you do, someday. Be as good. But I've been working as a producer for roughly two years, I still have to learn, and work my way to get where you are," she elaborated.

"You want to run a record label someday?" he asked rhetorically.

"I will run a record label," she said confidently.

"Well," he smiled at her, "you're going to get a step closer to your dream."

Beca watched him in anticipation and kept her cool as he leaned against his seat.

"You are now the head of A&R department."

"Sorry, I'm what?"

"You're promoted from a record producer to the head of Artists and Repertoire Department."

"What about Arthur?" she asked.

"What about him?"

"That's his position," she stated.

"Yeah, here, at the California branch office." he nodded. "His position will be available in a year from now. He's retiring. You can ask for a transfer then," he informed her.

"Where am I going to be working for now?" she asked after patiently waiting for him to finish talking.

"New York branch office."

Working in New York for a year. A YEAR. A FUCKING YEAR.

"No-" -fucking way.

"No?" he arched an eyebrow. "Are you refusing this promotion? I read your file at human resources. You're not married. You don't have kids- Excuse me for asking, are you in a relationship?"

She shook her head.

"You can easily move to the east coast."

"No, I mean yes. Thank you for considering me for this position," she thanked him. "When do I start?" she asked.

"To be honest, I'm taking Arthur's word. The New York branch is filled with snobby folks, they need someone highly professional. Arthur says you're good. I hope you're good enough. Get your stuff together, you start in two weeks. How does that work for you?"

"I would be stoked to start by then… Sorry, I don't say stoked. I don't say stuff like that. I'm pretty cool."

He watched her as she struggled to keep her excitement to a minimum level.

Was she excited that she was promoted? Abso-fucking-lutely. But a year in New York City then back to L.A could fuck things up for her on an emotional level. She decided that she wasn't going to think about that. She got promoted. That was surreal. People usually worked far more years than her before they got the position of the head of Artists and Repertoire Department. She was definitely going to do something to thank Arthur for making this promotion possible. Send him a singing telegram? Nope. She should leave figuring out how to thank him later when she's back to her normal self.


"Chloe," Beca said, when Chloe picked up, as she walked out of the elevator and headed to the parking lot, "we're going out clubbing later."

"Clubbing?" Chloe said in puzzlement, "Beca, it's Monday," she reminded her friend.

"I own a fucking calendar, I know what day it is. We're celebrating because I got promoted!" she informed her friend, unable to keep herself from grinning. "I'm the new head of artists and repertoire department-"

"-Holy shit. That is awesome, Beca!" Chloe exclaimed.

"-in the New York branch office."

"You're going to New York!"

Beca had to pull the phone away from her ear for a second for how high pitched Chloe's voice was.

"Yeah," Beca unlocked her car and got inside. "I can transfer back here in a year when the position becomes available."

"Are you planning on moving back here?"

"Probably," Beca sighed starting her car.

"But what about Jesse, he's there."

"I know that he's there."

"You love him. He still does."

"But my life is here, in L.A."

"If you're scared of being with him don't look for excuses… We'll talk when I see you. Also, no to clubbing, I'm exhausted. Come over later, we're celebrating in a calmer way, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Hanging up, Beca held her phone, deciding to tell Jesse about her promotion and how she was going to live in New York where he lived, but leave out the possibility of it being just for a year. It could be for longer but she never really liked living in New York and she doubted she'd change her mind in a year.

Hesitantly, she typed 'Hey, Jesse, guess what?' and hit sent.

'Destiny child's going on tour?' he texted back in a matter of seconds. She chuckled reading his text.

'No. Guess again.'

This time, he took a while before texting.

'You're visiting?'

'Close. I'm moving to New York.' she texted.

As soon as her text was sent out he called.

"You're moving to New York City?" he exclaimed.

"I got promoted and the job is in the New York branch office," she informed him, leaving out the fact that she was planning on moving back to L.A in a year.

"When are you going to come?" he asked, not hiding his excitement.

"I start work in two weeks."

"I can't believe you're going to live her. I miss you so much."

"I've missed you too."

"Yeah, hey, listen, can I call you later? I'm kinda in the middle of something. I'm helping a friend move furniture."

"Sure. Sorry for keeping you."

"Sorry? Thank you for calling. Okay, he's glaring at me right now," Jesse laughed. "Congrats on the promotion, bye!"

"Bye," she smiled, hanging up.