A/N: Hey guys! I know this is like, SUPER short, but it's just an idea that's been swimming around in my head for months now and I finally decided to do something about it while not being able to sleep. I consider it more of a prologue to a story that could be. If you like it, I'll continue! I've got like 3 stories running now, but I'll try to update them all as much as possible!

She'd dreamed about her since she'd started dreaming. A spunky blonde with a bad attitude to match her own. In her dreams, she only ever got to watch as though it was a movie, but she felt an immediate connection with the girl. Not just because Beca also had a bad attitude, but somewhere deep down inside herself, she just knew that this girl was linked to her somehow. Almost every night, the blonde girl with the bright blue eyes would appear in her dreamscape, whether it be battling pirates or riding dragons, and Beca wished more than anything she could throw herself into the fray and adventure with her. Or even just ask her name. The brunette's parents laughed it off until she started into her pre teen years.

When she still mentioned her friend from her dreams in junior high, her parents began to scold her for it. "You're making it up, Rebecca, dear," "it's a mental thing; the more you focus on it, the more it will stay."

Beca didn't understand why the girl in her dreams was necessarily a bad thing, but began to shut her out all the same. She didn't want people at school making fun of her. In elementary school, it was interesting. She'd been the center of attention: people constantly asked her what the latest dream was, and she even wrote a book about the adventures of her subconscious friend in the 3rd grade. But, trusting her parents, Beca attempted a life by herself. Night after night, she tried to think of anything but the blonde girl in her dreams. And little by little, it worked. Eventually she didn't dream at all.

When her parents divorced, Beca's life became grey and lifeless. In her younger years she might have turned to dreaming to escape her reality, but now that she was almost twenty, Beca hardly even remembered what that girl's face looked like. That blonde, spunky girl who was so strong and brave…

"Luisa darling, no more dream talk at the table, please."

The blonde glared sharply at her dinner, stabbing it relentlessly with a fork. Why couldn't she talk about her dreams? They were more interesting than school, or friends, or even her family. It was no fair! Her friends didn't really like her. They just pretended to because her father was wealthy. The pale, brown haired girl in her dreams may not know who she really was, but at least she wasn't just pretending. Throughout Luisa's childhood, her parents had tried to convince her to at least not bring up the girl in her dreams, especially at dinner parties, but what could possibly be more exciting than that? It was certainly better than "that bitch, Rita, who finally got fired today."

She firmly attempted to stick her fork into a particularly slippery pea, and it went shooting across the dark mahogany table and hit the window. The blonde internally sighed, knowing well that she was about to be chastised again.

"Luisa Martina Meyer! At once! Stop day dreaming about that silly girl and live the life in front of you!" Her mother screeched, but Luisa couldn't even be bothered to wince. Instead she focused her intense gaze up across the table.

"No. I won't." She retorted back, stubbornly. "She is beautiful, and true, and I'm going to find her someday!"

Her mother practically had smoke coming out of her ears now, and it only egged the blonde on.

"And we're going to get MARRIED!" She shouted, slamming her fork down onto the table and storming out of the dining hall, not even bothering to see the effects of her outburst. She didn't even know if she liked girls or not, but if it made her mother angry, it was worth it to say.

She entered her bedroom and slammed the door for good measure, immediately crawling into bed. She didn't bother to take her clothes off, or wash her face, or even comb her hair. She just wanted to see her brown eyed friend.