A/N - Here is my contribution to the Valentine Day "Jeca "Challenge.

But, because this is how I roll, this is not going to be just a one shot! I think when it is actually finished, it could be 30,000 words plus so, to save everyone falling asleep while reading, I'm splitting it up and posting it over the next few days.

Thank you to cajunqueen714 and Raven12 for taking the time to read through, correcting my mistakes and pretending there wasn't many (!) and convincing me that this was publish worthy when my self doubts kick in (roughly every thirty seconds!). And for saying I can post in stages!

Chapter One of about Twelve!

Playlist Of The Heart
.o0o. Chapter One - "Need You Now" .o0o.
by Lady Antebellum

Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor
Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
For me it happens all the time.

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now
Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now
And I don't know how I can do without
I just need you now.

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door
Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
For me it happens all the time.

.o0o.

Beca Mitchell cut a lonely figure as she sat on her overstuffed leather sofa with the lights on low in her tiny studio apartment, in a sought after neighbourhood in the Hollywood Hills, just outside central Los Angeles. It was Friday night and it had been a long, hard week but here she was with her feet tucked under her fleecy college blanket. She was the epitome of a party animal. But in truth, she wouldn't have it any other way.

She pushed her dinner around the plate, poking at the broccoli and chicken pasta that she had collected on her way home. Discarding the plate on the spare seat, she reached for her half empty glass of Fireball and Dr Pepper and clutched the frosty glass with shaking hands before raising it to her chapped lips. She heard the ice clink as she took a healthy gulp of the drink and swirled it around her mouth for a moment before swallowing. She hissed loudly through her teeth as the cool but spicy liquid burned her taste buds as it rolled down her throat.

This was her fifth drink of the night if anyone was keeping count but Beca was nowhere near stopping. She knew she only had herself to blame for the way she felt. She was her own person after all and she was living the life she always wanted to. She told everyone she was happy with her decisions and had no regrets; that leaving Atlanta was the right thing to do. She missed people, of course she did; she had a heart ... it was just slightly broken. But she'd tell everyone she was leading an idyllic life, her career was on the up and up, she was getting recognised in the streets and stopped for autographs, hassled when she was out buying groceries, complimented and condemned for everything she wore and was busy fending off invitations to all the latest parties and shows.

Bullshit baffles brains.

Right?

In truth, she lived alone in a highly secured apartment complex and only ventured outside to work, to get food or when she felt forced to attend a party for the sake of her job. The only time that she was happy was when she buried under a pile of blankets, getting drunk and listening to music. She would even consent to watch half a movie every now and then but sometimes the memory of just who had gotten her into the movie picture phenomenon would cause tears to leak from her eyes.

She would brush the tears on her cheeks away angrily and be cross at the stab of pain in her heart but her hand would instinctively reach out to pick up her phone. She would scroll through her contacts until she found him; the name from the past, the only person she ever thought about after the clock struck midnight or when she was needy and desperate.

"Hi, it's me." She would speak loudly and clearly into the room, oozing confidence. However, the slightly twang of a drunken tongue belittled her words. "Oh, I'm fine today, thanks for asking ... doing well ... doing really well, in fact ... yep, making shit loads of money ... tons of friends ... well yes, best friends with Beyoncé actually ... highlight of my week was getting finger banged by Katy Perry, you know how it is! ... wait, what? ... no, there is no reason for the call ... I just wanted to hear your voice. Gotta run anyway, busy, busy, busy."

She would wonder constantly what he was doing, every second of the day. She would stand in the shower and think of his lips on her skin, her knees wobbling slightly at the memory of his delicate touch. She would forget to stop at the store for milk on her way home from work and wonder if he would have picked it up for her understanding her love for a glass of cool, creamy milk before bedtime. She might stub her toe on the corner of the stupidly large sofa and need him to come over and kiss it better for her, knowing they would invariably end up in bed together. She drank too much and wanted him to look after her; to fetch her some Tylenol and her hangover cure of pickles and popcorn. She would get angry at life and want him to help calm her down. She hopes he would find her in the dark when the path turned bleak and she turned on herself. And as she succumbed to the pull of sleep at night, she would always have his name on her lips.

She might dream of Barden, of the time they spent together and where it had all gone wrong. They had shared more than a kiss after she had helped the Barden Bellas win the ICCA finals in her first year of college. He had whisked her away during the after show party, borrowing Donald's car and driving them to a local hotel. She was unsure at first how she felt about that until he had laughed and mentioned her freaky college roommate busting in on their alone time. She hadn't expected to fall for him quite so hard. As he had peeled the clothes off her that night, he had also peeled off the layers that she had built up around herself.

As she drained the last of her Fireball, she thought back to that night; the night she felt connection for the first time in many years.

.o0o.

"I've been waiting all year for you to suggest this." Beca said as they entered the hotel room, and she had almost expected him to back away from her, the way his eyes shot up and looked across the room.

"You've lead me on a merry dance all year."

"Yes, I did. I took the time I needed to discover myself."

"And tonight?"

"Oh, it became clear to me. I wanted you and I needed to make it right so you would want me too." Beca had said and she recalled the words easily. "I guess I opened my heart and let you in."

"You sang to me."

"I did!" Beca said and smiled as she took a step towards him.

"And by the way, I didn't forget about you either."

He reached out tentatively and put his hands on her hips, looking almost nervously into her eyes. Beca bit her lip softly, stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. He groaned and roughly pulled on her hips before he stooped down a little and kissed her hard. She kissed him back, her hands resting loosely around his neck as she ran her tongue along his lip and he moaned again, his hands trailing around from her hips to her ass, rubbing up along her back and shoulders, and then finally cupping her breasts. She sighed softly against his mouth, biting down gently on his lip.

"I wanted to do this with you the second I saw you but even more so after the first time I heard you sing." He said gruffly, his lips edging towards her neck as he caressed her breasts. Beca's nipples hardened under his palms, the cotton of her navy tank top being an extra layer to trap in the heat. He was sucking on her neck, one hand on her breast and the other rubbing up and down her hip and stomach. She tilted her head back, hissing slightly as he touched her.

Without warning, he put his hands on the back of Beca's thighs and nudged her legs apart. In a single, swift movement, he lifted her off the ground. She squealed in surprise and wrapped her legs around his waist. Beca could feel his hardness pressing against her as he turned and carried her over to the bed, considerately setting her down on the edge as his lips rested against her the entire time.

"Fuck!" He mumbled, pulling back to look at her. His hand trailed up her leg and hip, along the bare skin on the side of her stomach, and finally stopped on her breast again, over her shirt. Her nipples were already hard, and he pinched the left one lightly through her shirt. Beca gasped when he did and he kissed her harder.

Her nipples were incredibly sensitive, and each time he rolled one between his fingers, her clit throbbed uncontrollably. She whimpered against his mouth and he reached up with his other hand, cupping her other breast and pinching that nipple too. She began to unbutton his shirt as he tugged on the hem of her tank top, pulling the tight material over her head. Her breasts bounced out of the shirt as he pulled it over them and she heard him breathe sharply as she finished pulling it over her head and dropped it on the floor. When she looked over to him, his eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at her breasts. She pulled off her bra next and tossed it on to the floor.

"Everything okay?" Beca asked, watching him as he looked down at her body. Her nipples were dark pink and incredibly hard. She knew her skin was flush, the pink tone spreading from her cheeks to the base of her neck and he had stared at her for a long moment before saying anything.

"Your tits are fucking amazing!" He gasped, gradually pushing Beca off him so she was lying on her back, then immediately pressed his mouth to her breasts; lamenting as he licked and sucked them. He lavished attention on one before switching sides, cupping her other breast with his hand as he rolled his tongue around her nipple.

Her legs were haphazard on the bed and he was lying between them and before long, with the attention to her chest, she began to feel herself throb for him. She arched her back and began to grind against him, needing some friction on her clit. Without moving his lips from her breast, he reached down with one hand and gently rubbed her slit through her trousers. Unbuttoning them quickly, he slid them over her hips so that they pooled around her ankles and she kicked them off.

Kissing him hard, she reached up to unzip his pants, undoing them quickly and she could see his cock straining against his boxer shorts, the bulge enticing her. Beca ran her hands along his chest and stomach, before sliding one under the waistband and wrapping it around his cock. He groaned again, leaning down to resume sucking on her tits as she started to stroke his junk. It was smooth and throbbing in her hand, and bigger than she expected. She rubbed it gently and he pushed forward into her hand, his compliments stifled by her tits as he pressed his face against them.

After a moment or two, he reached down and grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her movements. He kissed her hard on the lips and then along her jawbone before trailing his lips down her neck, sucking gently. He pulled her hand out of his boxers as he kissed her neck. He licked down her chest and gently ran his teeth on her nipples, making her gasp. Beca felt his lips trail down her breasts and onto her stomach, where he licked and kissed down to the waistband of her panties. He then started to pull on them, sliding them down her hips, his lips trailing along behind them and gently kissing the inside of her thighs as he slipped her panties off.

He sat up and just looked at her for a moment and she blushed when he didn't say anything.

"You're fucking gorgeous." He whispered, leaning forward to place little kisses across her belly. He ran his tongue over her hips, taking one of her knees in his hand, he pushed her legs apart and kneeling onto the carpet, he trailed back down to her inner thighs, plunging his tongue inside her without warning. She gasped as he swept through her folds, taking fistfuls of his hair in between her fingers at the sweet sensation. Reaching up he cupped one of her breasts as he began to nibble on her clit. Beca cried out softly, arching her back off the bed as he dipped his tongue back inside her entrance. She could feel him smile against her core as he wiped his mouth on the bedspread and looked up at her.

She reached down and tugged his boxer shorts off, freeing him from the confines of the cotton and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of relief on his face with such a simple action.

"How do you want to do this?" He asked, his voice a little husky.

"Me on top?" Beca mentioned and he nodded. "It's my first time so go a little slow, okay."

He lay down on the bed and rolled onto his back. After adjusting himself a couple of times, he pulled Beca on top of him so she was straddling his lap. Taking hold of him with one hand, she slowly lowered herself onto his cock, crying out into the room as she felt him enter her.

Giving her time to adjust to the feeling, he inched his hips upwards, giving her time to stretch around him. She winced slightly as she realised he was buried hilt deep inside her. Letting her get used to his bountiful size, he was amazed at the heat inside her and bit down hard on his own lip to stop himself from getting carried away; the first heady feeling already making him feel like he was losing control.

Taking her hips in his warm hands, he encouraged her to start moving and she raised herself up on her knees before dropping back down on him; a soft oomph escaping from her each time.

She began to feel braver as she took control, riding him faster and panting as he rocked his hips to meet her thrusts. Her breasts began to bounce and he could hardly contain himself as he reached up to grasp them between his fingers, marvelling at their firmness yet loving their softness.

"Fuck..." He groaned as he slipped his other hand in between them both, finding the bud of her clit and making slow, deliberate circles. Beca couldn't understand the onslaught of feelings as the fire began to work deep inside. She placed her hands on his chest as she bucked his hips, squeezing him as best she could and loving the way his eyes would roll in the back of his head. A few more thrusts and she could feel herself involuntarily clamping down around him. He slowed for a moment and she felt the pulse within herself before he thrust faster and harder causing her to lose words as she held her breath.

He pressed down hard on her clit, squeezing it between his fingers and watched as Beca came undone as she rode him. Throwing her head back, he felt her walls thicken as she collapsed on top of his chest crying out his name. She rode out her orgasm as he chased his own, needing the release after nearly a year of pent up want.

Rolling her onto her back, she was still shaking as he hooked her knees up over his shoulders and thrust into her, deeper than they both thought possible. The fireworks began in his eyes as he watched her face twist in ecstasy and he plunged into her again and again, drawing the head of his penis across her front wall, inadvertently knocking her g spot. She sucked in her breath as she felt the itch again and looked at him directly in the eye. She knew she was about to lose it for a second time and squeezed her muscles once more as he found it harder to push inside.

"I love you." He whispered and the words hung in the air as two tiny tears forced their way from her eyes.

"I love you too." She murmured and that was all he needed to hear. He picked up the pace and just before he tipped over the edge and spilled his love inside her, he watched her eyes roll into the top of her skull as she succumbed to her second orgasm of the night, just a moment before his own.

He collapsed on top of her and together they lay panting before he pulled out of her, a soft pop resounding around the walls. She watched him move off the bed and walk, naked, across the room. He flicked the light off and shuffled back in the dark, pulling the covers up with him as he climbed back in the bed, pulling her in towards him as he lay down on the pillows.

"Never leave me." Beca said, as the harsh fatigue pulled her into its darkened depths.

"I promise I won't." He said, planting small kisses on her cheeks. "I love you."

And Beca had believed him.

.o0o.

Shaking her mind clear of the memory of losing herself to the only man she ever loved, Beca cast a lazy, Fireball marinated eye towards her evening's work which was spread out all over the floor in front of her. It didn't serve her well to dwell on the happier times of her life; it always just made her sad. Instead, she gazed down as the dozens of photographs on the floor; some old, some recent pictures that littered the solid wood flooring of which she was so damn proud. It was the reason she decided to rent the overpriced condo in Victoria Gardens, bypassing the smart, neat small houses on Warwick Street or the airy loft, opposite Lowestoft Park with the huge covered balcony that she'd been back to look at twice.

She was by no means a neat freak. The floor was lucky to be swept once a week if she was in a good mood but there was something about the hardened and highly polished wood that said 'grown up' to her. She was a fairly tidy person if you didn't count the large pile of dirty laundry she claimed was 'art' in the corner of her bedroom; a small room that was squeezed in just past the living room and had just enough room for her bed with its pretty decorative, ornate bed frame.

Using the toes on her left foot, she pushed a couple of the photographs around, bunching a few together as she absentmindedly swirled her ankle. Her recording studio; the only one to have offered her a job after she upped sticks, quit school and moved to Los Angeles three years before, wanted new artwork for her latest album. It was a back to basics tribute to yesteryear, using what they described as old school techniques; almost a tribute or a throwback to school days, or as Beca likened it to ... music her dad would buy.

So her manager had asked her to find pictures of her when she was younger; to use as a backdrop on the album cover. She was fast becoming known about town as the talent to watch with her no nonsense, clean attitude towards music. The studio was cashing in on her notoriety. Beca had spent quite a few hours going through her large box of photos and albums, drinking heavily as she swept through the years. She found a couple of her and her Mom and Dad before the divorce that she decided would be nice to put into frames and a couple from the summer she spent with her cousins up by Walton Creek. She could barely remember that time, her memory blurry as she had now gone past the happy drunk stage now.

As she hit her teenage years, the photos dried up. There were a few of the old school friends she had had during Middle School, mostly taken at birthday parties where vibrant hues were clearly the 'in thing' and every girl was smiling, happy and covered head to toe in loud colours and pretty dresses. All but Beca that is. She could see where and when she had started drifting away from her friends; it was screamingly obvious by the way she stood apart from the group and she had let a momentary smirk reach her lips as she realised her fascination with plaid had begun when she was thirteen.

She liked the photos of her teenage years and laughed loudly as her obsession with eyeliner got stronger until her Dad had packed up and left. She quickly thumbed through the photos of his wedding to Sheila and she felt her lip curling when she looked at their happy faces. She hadn't wanted to attend their nuptials but her Mom had insisted. Beca winced a little as she remembered the huge showdown she had with her over being 'forced' into a dress and high heels as Sheila insisted on her having a clean, shiny ... essentially make up free face.

The only good thing to have come out their marriage was her little brother who she loved and adored. Danny had helped to soften the icy attitude between Beca and Sheila, although sparks still flew quite regularly. Beca started her first year in college the year Danny turned two and he thought the sun shone out of her ass. They had black and white photos taken and she pinned them to her dorm wall and loved waking up to his cheeky face in the morning. But by the time the little boy was four, Beca had moved to Hollywood and six months later, her father had relocated to be closer to her, taking a job at UCLA in the English department. They bought a beach house in Santa Monica. Danny was overjoyed at being close to his big sister again and late one Saturday afternoon, she had let him play the drums in the studio, recording it and actually featuring the slow beat on one of her albums a few months later.

She found the rest of her pictures from her first year at Barden. The dull and sullen attitude she had when she arrived on the first day was soon replaced by goofy expressions and silly poses with her friends and she was still rocked by how easily she had managed to fit in, despite her reluctance and resistance. She liked the ones taken when they had been performing although she still rolled her eyes over the starched shirts and the prim hairstyles. She had kept the photos with the Bellas in them despite everything that had happened in the following year and how the Bellas broken oath would never be fixed. She wasn't quite sure what to make of their final rehearsal and the abundance of silly pictures she had and especially the ones when she was sandwiched between her two best friends.

Feeling suddenly angry at all that had transpired to make her have to leave Barden, she inwardly growled as she set her glass back on the small bureau that served as a table in her living room, knocking her phone to the floor. Leaning down, she grumbled as the device was just outside her reach. Stepping up on boozy feet, she lost her footing on the plethora of slippery pictures, sending herself crashing painfully to the floor.

"Fucks ache." She blubbered out, spitting out the words wrongly as the Fireball tickled her throat and the alcohol dulled her brain. She felt the pain in her ankle seconds later, the liquor not quite numbing the itch as she rubbed the joint. She didn't want to cry but every single time something went wrong, her immediate reaction was to call him and she knew she shouldn't. He was the only person who could make her feel anything. Even if it was disgust at herself for the horrible bad habits that she had picked up.

"I've lost it. Save me." Beca cried out, the memories invading her soul as she recalled the first year of Barden and the easy way a certain brown haired male had wormed his way into her life. "I can't do this without you anymore."

Seeing the scattered photos, she angrily pushed them away; furious as the realisation set in that she still needed him. She reached for the bottle of liquor, laying half-propped up on the sofa cushions, unscrewing the cap and necking huge gulps of fiery alcohol. She set her focus on her door, willing it to open and for him to burst through and come to rescue her.

Her head began to pound as she concentrated on the three doors in front of her; their multiplication testimony to the litre and a half of Fireball she had downed since getting in from work at nine. She wrapped her arms around her legs, making herself as small as possible.

"Come for me. Rescue me as you did before. You are supposed to know that I need you. I shouldn't have to beg for you to come." She wailed into the dimly lit room and rested her head on her knees. "I knew there would be a day when you would finally stop caring, you ignorant fucking bastard."