A/N: Hey guys! As promised, here is one of the other four fics I promised ;) Clearly the theme of the fic is obvious, but I do hope you guys enjoy. The chapters would mostly be snippets of a Beca and Chloe at different times of their lives on Christmas eve/day, and while the Bellas would be around in some chapters, the fic would mostly focus on Beca and Chloe's POVs.

Sorry if this first chapter's a bit sad. The rest would be fluffy, falling in love nonsense. And if you haven't, check out my other Bechloe fic, 'Barden High School Host Club', it's mostly fun shenanigans and romance, so there is that ;)

Enjoy.

I don't own pitch perfect.


Beca sighed.

For a child, she had been doing that a lot lately, truth be told.

She was standing outside the window of a little shop in Stanford of all places, visiting family for the holidays, while her mom talked to an old friend of hers they ran into. She was just a few steps away from where Beca stood, Beca promising not to go far as she pressed her face and her little hands on a glass window. There were a few people out on Main St., considering it was Christmas Eve that night, doing some late shopping, meeting friends who were celebrating with their own families that night, getting everything they need for some last minute preparations. Most of the stores were closed, being locally owned and all, with their owners wanting to spend the day with their loved ones instead of working.

Which was quite the disappointment for Beca really. It was a disappointing Christmas for a disappointing year.

But then again what would Beca know of disappointments? She's only six. Her frame of reference for anything wasn't exactly that broad or wide.

Beca sighed again, staring longingly at the music box inside the closed gift shop. It was just like the music box her dad and mom gave her a year ago, something she constantly played before going to sleep.

But six months ago, Beca broke the box, her tiny little hands had desperately tried to piece it back together until she finally gave up, realizing she's missing a few gears and pieces when it shattered. Her dad had promised then that he would talk to her mom and that they would replace it before her birthday.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, three months later, her father left.

Gone.

Along with his promises.

Leaving Beca broken like her music box.

And so now Beca stood outside the show, gazing adoringly at the music box. She told herself they won't leave Connecticut without it, that they would come back before they leave for it. A part of her had longed for and wished that if she gets that new music box, if she played it religiously every night and take care of it this time, maybe, just maybe, her father would come back.

That wouldn't be too impossible now would it?

Beca looked up when she suddenly realized she wasn't alone anymore. A girl had pressed up the glass window, her cold hands grazing Beca's slightly. She turned to look for her mom who was still talking to her old friend as she hastily withdrew her hands. After another sigh, this time indicating her impatience form her mom who was taking so long to chat with the other lady she was talking to, she finally glanced up at the older girl next to her. She was already smiling, beaming really like it was such a great and wonderful day to be out.

To Beca, it wasn't. It was freezing cold, and she didn't really care about whatever her mom and her friend was talking about. She wanted to just stay in bed, listen to some old records her grandmother kept, and maybe drink hot chocolate? She wasn't really in a festive mood but hot chocolate always seemed to be appropriate.

"Hi." the girl had greeted and Beca had to admit she looked really pretty with the way she smiled. It made her relax a bit. There was a warmth to her smile, and to her ocean blue eyes. A warmth that Beca didn't think was possible to irradiate from a person at all.

"It's a lovely music box, isn't it?" the girl had noted. "My mom has one. A different one. She has a few really, all gifts from my dad. I was thinking maybe I could give her one someday too. She said they met because of the song the music box played, I think that might be a nice gesture don't you think?"

Beca shrugged. She really didn't have much of an opinion on it.

"Do you like the music box too?" the girl had asked her hopefully.

"I had one like it." Beca gave as a short reply.

The other girl beamed, like she was the source of happiness in the world. Like nothing could ever dampen her mood.

"Does it play lovely music?" she had asked.

Beca shrugged, "Does it matter? It broke." she said sounding defeated.

"Is that why you're looking at it now?" the older girl asked, loosening her red scarf a little.

"It doesn't matter." Beca replied simply. "No one cares. No one loves me anymore." she glumly replied.

The other girl looked glassy-eyed, and Beca felt guilty. Her sadness was catching on and Beca couldn't bare it so she looked away.

But then the redhead grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, calling for Beca's attention. Beca looked up and saw the look of determination on the redhead's face. "I do. I will. I'll love you." she said with a cheerful smile before placing a kiss on Beca's cheek, completely taking her by surprise.

Beca tried to say something, pulling her hand away from the other girl, once again looking away. She could feel her cheeks burning but she shrugged it off to the cold weather. Before she could say anything, however, her mom had called for her.

And it was time to go.

Beca gave one last look at the music box and then to the girl next to her before turning to leave, giving a weak apologetic smile.

Back at home Beca felt like she would cry, not because of the music box but because of the look on the redheaded girl's face when she left.

Like she felt the sadness and pain that Beca had felt and that she wanted to cry for her as well. Her words and actions in return was something Beca didn't expect, the cold of her heart thawing out as the warm feeling from her cheeks started to spread to her whole body.

That girl… she touched her in a way she didn't realize was possible.

Someone still cared about her after all.


Chloe was rushing through the Main St., her eldest brother, Anthony, right behind her. She knew, it was Christmas day, for crying out loud, no store would actually be open, but she had found out last night that her uncle knew the store owner and she really, really wanted to get that music box.

She remembered the look on the younger girls' face she ran into the day before. She looked so brokenhearted. Chloe couldn't help but wonder if she'll see her again that day, maybe get to know her better and figure out why she was so sad.

It was Christmas after all. Who gets sad on Christmas?

So yeah, maybe the original plan was to get that music box for her mom but plans change. If she sees that girl again, she'll definitely give her that music box.

Maybe see her smile.

Chloe almost slipped on the black ice on the side walk – it had been snowing last night – as she halted right in front of the store. She quickly recovered, and pressed her hands and face against the glass window of the shop that was still closed, searching for the music box.

But it was gone.

"What's wrong Chlo?" her brother asked her, panting, after finally catching up to her.

Chloe turned to her brother, pouting. "It's not there!"

"Well, maybe it's inside? Let's wait a little and see, okay?" her brother replied.

And so they did.

As soon as Mr. Blythe, the shop owner, opened the door to let them in, Chloe zoomed in and wasted no time in carefully but speedily checking where the music box was.

But it wasn't there.

Finally, upon realizing all her efforts had been futile, she finally asked Mr. Blythe.

And found out that an old couple had bought the music box for their daughter.

Anthony took her out for some hot chocolate after that, the café near the church had always been open even during Christmas. Their uncle said that the owners liked to welcome people who had nowhere to go for the holidays or were just alone. The holidays were always about being with friends and loved ones, and they had hoped that those who felt lonely would find new friends along the way.

Chloe cheered up a little, hoping that maybe that girl she ran into would walk into the café with her mom. She perked up, and started to look around from their booth to check for any signs of the friend she had hoped to make, but to no avail.

She wasn't coming.

And Chloe found herself thinking if she'll ever meet the girl again.

Something about those sad and stormy blue eyes had captured her attention, and she couldn't quite place just what it was. The innocence of her youth failing her to realize what the tugging feeling at her chest was.

And Chloe didn't realize that there was some truth to what she had said to the girl because they weren't just words.

They had become a promise.

But she didn't even know her name, who she was, or anything.

So how could Chloe have seen what was right in front of her?

The very beginnings of love.