You can probably tell by the fact that I've posted two stories in less than a week that I'm procrastinating a lot of real life responsibilities right now. Yikes. These two are just on my brain.
Anyway, this story will probably have two or three chapters, we'll see where it goes.
Beca Mitchell couldn't be more relieved when Friday evening rolls around; the week had been long and arduous. It had begun with a stressful meeting with her boss, wherein he had more or less told her she was working too slowly for the demands of the label, and it had ended with her pulling a fourteen hour shift to try and meet said demands. She was more than elated by her promotion from resident coffee slinger, burrito acquirer, and all around office lackey to being an actual respected junior producer, but it hadn't come without its fair share of added pressure.
She had spent a combined sixty-five hours at the studio that week, working her ass off to put together a demo album in order for it to be greenlit by her boss (as well as countless hours poring over the tracks in her down time at home). Other than some minor input from her boss, and needing to get the final go ahead from him, it's her first solo project so she'd spent the past few months absorbed in perfecting every element.
She knew this opportunity was her one shot to really prove herself; to make her mark within the industry that she had been dreaming of breaking into since she was fifteen. It was a passion project of hers, definitely, and she was thrilled to finally be given the reins to work on something with such creative control. There was something incredibly validating about having people trust your vision enough for that to even be possible.
So, there she was, twenty-one years old and producing her first album. She was living the dream, more or less.
It's not that she feels unfulfilled, far from it, things in her life have actually transpired in ways far better than she could have ever imagined. Becoming recognised in the music industry is no easy feat, and she'd accomplished that.
She doesn't regret not going to college, it had never been a part of her life goal. She'd discovered her love for music at a young age, and after spending countless hours sequestered in her bedroom playing with mixing equipment, creating mashups, and researching the industry, she knew exactly what she needed to do in order to make her dreams a reality. Wasting a further four years in school wasn't a part of that plan.
Having a comparative literature professor for a father may have also intensified her disdain for the entire institution.
Despite this, she still found herself wondering what the aching, almost hollow feeling, deep in the pit of her stomach was trying to tell her. What else was there? What could she have possibly gained from college that she doesn't already have?
She retires to bed at midnight. Alone. Only having returned from the studio thirty minutes prior to that, she had showered quickly before becoming overcome by the exhaustion of the week and passing out face down on her bed.
Beca's awoken hours later from her slumber by the sound of her phone buzzing against the bedside table. She groans in frustration as she reaches over, without opening her eyes, to paw against the surface blindly until she successfully has a hold of the offending item.
"Hello?" she mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
"Hey!" The voice coming through the other end of the phone is entirely too loud.
Beca's consciousness slowly begins to catch up with her and she blinks her eyes blearily as the room gradually drifts into focus, "Who is this?" she questions dryly.
"It's Chloe, silly," the girl's voice sounds slurred, "I miss you," she draws out the last syllable in a singsong manner.
"I, um," Beca frowns, rolling onto her back as she glances at the bright, glowing red numbers of her clock to see that it's two fifteen in the morning, "I don't know a Chloe, I think you might have the wrong number."
"No!" The girl exclaims, followed by a quiet squeal and then a giggle as though she's just tripped over something, "No, no, no, of course you know me, it's Chloe," she says, as though that makes all the difference.
Beca presses her lips together firmly, staring soundly at the ceiling as she considers hanging up on this girl who has obviously drunk dialled the wrong person in the middle of the night.
But something itches inside of her when she hears the other girl speak through the phone.
"Where'd you go?" the voice questions then, panicked.
"I'm here," Beca responds quickly, "So um, where do we know each other from again?"
There's a long pause then, wherein all Beca can hear are the girl's shallow breaths against the receiver and the distant sounds of traffic.
"You really don't remember me?" she sounds sad.
"No, no," Beca winces, the low, dejected timbre of Chloe's voice sending a pang of guilt through her, "I'm sorry, it's just… it's late."
Why was she going along with this? She should have just hung up.
"Okay," Chloe seems to have accepted this, her tone brightening instantly. But it's only for a short moment before she gasps, a little dramatically, "Oh no! Did I wake you up?"
Beca laughs despite herself, "Yeah, a bit. It's after two in the morning dude."
"Oh no," she draws out each syllable, sounding genuinely remorseful, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Do you hate me?"
Beca licks her dry lips, sitting up slightly in bed as she responds, "No, of course not." She reaches over and switches on her bedside lamp, letting the soft light illuminate her bedroom in an ambient glow, "Where are you?"
"I'm out at a bar, I just left actually," Chloe says in a rush, "I came with Aubrey, do you remember Aubrey?" She doesn't. "Anyway, she went home early and I was having such a good time I stayed, but then I realised someone had taken my bag with my phone, and my money, and I don't know how to get home." Beca's brain struggles to keep up with the fast pace in which Chloe is delivering all of this information, "But someone gave me some quarters, and I found a payphone so I thought I'd call you."
"A payphone?" Beca laughs incredulously before sobering, "Are you okay? Do you have someone who can come get you?"
"Well," her tone is light and mischievous, "That's kind of why I called you."
Shit.
Beca sighs.
"I, uh, I don't think I'm who you think I am," she delivers slowly, apologetically
"What do you mean?" Chloe rasps, sounding perplexed.
Beca scratches at her forehead, "I tried to tell you, I think you dialled the wrong number. My name is Beca," the cadence of her voice tilts upwards there, as though it's a question rather than a statement. "I don't know who you are.
"Oh, shoot," Chloe sighs, "Beca?" she repeats her name as though she's tasting it on her tongue, "Oh, no. I don't have any quarters left. Why did you talk to me for such a long time?!" she sounds angry and Beca is momentarily offended.
"I'm sorry!" she replies heatedly, affronted.
There's a slight rustling sound through the receiver, and then a sigh. It's silent for a few moments, long enough for Beca to think Chloe had hung up on her, before she hears the girl speak again, sounding tired, "I'm sorry I snapped at you, I'm just cold and I want to go home."
"Yeah," Beca's voice is rough, "This is weird, I'm sorry too." Beca scratches at her nose before pressing on, "Where are you from? I mean – we may be on the other side of the country from each other, but if I could come get you, I…"
"Atlanta," Chloe interrupts.
"Oh, shit, seriously?" Beca breathes, already standing up, "Me too, where are you? I'll come…"
"No, no," Chloe interjects, "I've already bothered you enough, you don't have to. Like you said, you don't even know me!"
Beca's already pulling a pair of jeans up her legs though, phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder as she zips them and slides on a pair of boots, "Let me do my civic duty," Beca says, "How would you expect me to go back to sleep knowing that you're standing alone on some street corner with no way to get home?"
"I, uh, shoot," Chloe fumbles with the phone audibly, "I'm almost out of minutes."
"Where are you?" Beca questions again firmly.
There's a quiet pause before Chloe hums into the phone, "I was at a bar in Midtown. Uh, just a second," Chloe's voice is further away from the receiver for a moment before she returns, "Corner of Peachtree, and 12th Street, I think."
"Hang tight," Beca breathes, slipping on her coat, "I'll be there in fifteen."
It's crazy. It's absolutely insane. Beca's driving into the city at two thirty in the morning to pick up someone she'd never met, who had just happened to dial her number by mistake off a payphone. Thankfully, due to the late hour, there aren't many people on the road but she still takes it easy as they'd had their first snow for the season earlier that day.
She drives alongside the Botanical Gardens, before pulling off and taking a few turns until she's slowly creeping along 12th Street. There are a few people milling about, some hovering outside bars smoking, a couple walking the street holding hands, and a girl, perched against a brick wall who is holding her face in her hands. She has vibrant red hair that hangs loosely around her face in waves, and she's wearing thigh-high, heeled boots, and a black dress that stops just above her knees; the sleeves of which are long, but made of mesh, so she must be freezing.
Beca pulls up close to the curb alongside her, and opens the door to slide out, leaving the engine running.
"Chloe?" she enquires, reticently, causing the girl's gaze to snap upwards toward her.
"Oh," she presses herself away from the wall quickly and stumbles forward in her heels, unsteady on her feet, "Beca?"
"Yeah," she nods, her lips pressed together as she smiles tersely.
There's a moment of silence where they just appraise each other. Chloe looks cold and tired, but still she's beautiful. Her eyes are more blue than any Beca had ever seen before in her life, and she's radiating a sort of soft, beguiling loveliness that Beca can't look away from. She spares a second to think about how terrible she must look then, having stumbled out of bed without taking a moment to even brush her hair before she left. She runs a self-conscious hand over the back of her head as her cheeks flush crimson.
"I wasn't sure if you'd come," Chloe breaks the silence, lurching forward a few steps until she can reach out and grab Beca's hands, tugging them toward her zealously. She leans in close, until there's barely a breath of air between them and she whispers, smelling of whiskey, "Thank you, so much." Her eyes are glowing, "I think we're going to be really fast friends."
Beca's eyes flit all across Chloe's face, from her eyes – even bluerup close – to her nose, her cheeks, and to her lips - which are currently spread into a wide, salacious grin. She licks her own lips and chuckles uncertainly, momentarily thrown by the girl's utter disregard for personal space. "Oh yeah?" she manages, weakly.
Chloe just nods, and it's then that Beca feels how icy the other girl's hands are in her own, and remembers that it's barely above freezing out.
"Here," she pulls back suddenly, and begins shedding her own coat. "Where's your jacket?" Beca questions, voice laced with concern as she hands her own to Chloe and watches the girl pull it over her shoulders with gratitude.
Chloe pouts adorably then, "I think someone stole it, too."
"Come on," Beca presses her palm lightly to Chloe's shoulder blade as she leads her toward the passenger side of her car, "The heaters on in here, warm up."
They slide into their respective seats and buckle up, Beca throws her beanie into the backseat, and Chloe rubs her hands together in front of the vent, yawning as she does so.
"So," Beca poses, "Where am I taking you?"
"Oh," Chloe visibly balks at the question, "I um, I live in Kennesaw," she grimaces apologetically, "If it's too far, it's okay."
Beca pauses for a moment thoughtfully. She glances at the clock on her dash that tells her it's now three in the morning, and she knows that would be over a thirty-minute drive, each way.
"Do you," she begins before pausing again, "I mean, I um, I live close by. You could stay with me tonight, if you'd like, and I can drive you home in the morning," she pauses for a moment before tacking on hastily, "That is, if you're comfortable with that."
A slow, sleepy smile oozes across Chloe's face as she watches Beca fiddle shyly with the temperature controls on the dash. "You'd be okay with that?" She asks.
"Yeah, I mean," Beca looks up at her with faux apprehension, "You're not planning on like, murdering me, right?"
Chloe bursts into laughter suddenly, and the sound is so melodic and infectious that Beca smiles along, wide enough for her cheeks to ache.
"Maybe," Chloe shrugs, looking at Beca coyly as she flutters her lashes. Then she smiles, giving Beca a look that is so sincere and full of gratitude that it makes the girl feel hot. She places a hand against Beca's thigh and while leaning toward her, she speaks earnestly, "I would love that, thank you Beca."
Beca has to physically shake her head to clear the feeling of paralysis that had settled over her due to Chloe's close proximity, "Okay then," she chokes out, before pulling away from the curb; completely missing the other girl's pleased grin as she leans away.
It's a not a very long drive back to Beca's apartment, fifteen minutes at the most. Chloe has begun to hum along to the song playing through the car's sound system, and that girl can hold a tune. Beca realises, only too late, that her phone had begun to auto-play her music, and it was one of her tracks, unfinished. She attempts to surreptitiously reach toward the dash in order to skip the song, but Chloe seems to sense what she's doing and catches her wrist, smiling gently.
"I like this song," she continues to hum along, doing a little dance, which really only consists of her slowly shimmying her shoulders and rolling her head to the beat, "Who is this?"
"Uh," Beca grimaces, scratching at the back of her neck, "Me?"
"What?" Chloe asks, incredulously, head snapping toward her.
"Yeah, I um," Beca begins to ramble, "It's just a demo so it's not very clean. I didn't mean to play it."
Chloe sits up in her seat, looking at Beca in wonder, "It's amazing," she breathes, "Is this what you do?"
Beca laughs, "Yeah, I'm a music producer. I work at Residual Heat, in West End."
Chloe nods then, "Is this you singing?"
Beca runs a hand through her messy hair, looking over to meet Chloe's gaze as they sit at a red light, "Yeah, I sang for the demo, but there will be a different vocalist for the final product."
Chloe tuts quietly at that before saying, "You have a lovely voice." She then smiles and nods earnestly at Beca's embarrassed shrug before continuing, "I was a part of an A Capella group in college, The Barden Bellas," She quips with a smirk and a raise of her eyebrows, "You would have been so good with us."
"Right," Beca laughs, "That's like, a thing, now."
"Totes," Chloe responds dreamily, "I miss it."
They lull into silence then, Chloe's eyes are closed and her head is pressed back against the headrest. She looks small in Beca's oversized, puffy coat, and her eye makeup is smudged at the corners. As they drive along, the streetlamps play across her features illuminating her face in a rhythmic way that causes shadows to dance across her tranquil expression. The corners of her mouth are quirked upward, ever so slightly, and Beca almost thinks she has fallen asleep until a quiet, mumbled voice sounds from beside her.
"Sing something for me."
"What?" Beca asks breathily, caught off guard.
"Please," Chloe's voice remains low and somnolent.
Beca swallows audibly as she stares ahead, "Oh… uh, okay," she trips over the word as she clenches her jaw and grips the steering wheel tight. Taking a deep, measured breath, she licks her lips and begins to sing softly, "I got my ticket for the long way 'round…"
She spares a glance at Chloe's profile, noting the gentle smile that has settled over her features. Beca continues to sing sweetly, and by the time she finishes the first chorus she notes that Chloe's breath has steadied and her mouth is hanging open, ever so slightly, in slumber.
She smiles softly at the image, and continues the short drive home. She spares a moment to wonder how she had ended up here. How this had escalated so quickly. How she'd arrived at this point where a girl, who she'd met barely an hour ago, could ask her to jump and her response would be, 'how high?'
Beca had never really been one to follow rules, or please people. She had definitely softened in the few years she had been working for Residual Heat, learning that if she was going to make it anywhere in this industry, and hopefully eventually make it out of Atlanta, she'd have to swallow her pride, just a little bit. But this is new for her. She ponders nineteen-year-old, ear-spiked, eye-lined Beca for a moment; considers if she would have given this girl the time of day. She imagines herself harshly telling Chloe to bite her, before hanging up and rolling over to fall back asleep.
She contemplates whether this situation she'd found herself in can be chalked up to how much she, Beca, has changed in recent years, or if it can be solely attributed to the almost overwhelmingly magnetic pull the girl in the passenger seat seems to have over her.
Either way, it's something.
It's barely ten minutes later when they're pulling into Beca's parking space outside of her apartment building. She places a gentle hand on Chloe's shoulder, rousing her with a soft touch. "Hey," she whispers, "We're here."
"Mm," Chloe hums noncommittally in response, not opening her eyes.
Beca sighs, pulling herself up and to her feet before rounding the car until she's at the passenger side. She opens the door and, with trepidation, runs a hand smoothly across Chloe's shoulders. "Chloe," she murmurs, "Come on."
Chloe hums again, a little disapprovingly this time, as a small crease mars her brow. She begins to shift though, with a gentle pull from Beca, until she has swung her feet out and is standing up, albeit precariously. With Chloe resting her body heavily against Beca, they begin to shuffle forward slowly. Beca has one arm wrapped around the girl's waist, and she pushes the car door closed and juggles her keys with the other. Chloe's hunched over slightly and has her face pressed against Beca's neck as she's lead toward the entryway of the building.
"Come on sleepyhead," Beca speaks breathlessly into her hair.
It's not easy getting Chloe through the door and up a flight of stairs when she can barely lift her feet half an inch off the ground, but they make it finally. Leading the girl toward her couch, she pulls the coat from her shoulders before gently sitting her down.
"I'll be right back," Beca assures as she watches Chloe sink backwards into the cushions.
She pulls a pillow from her own bed, and a blanket from her hall closet before adjourning to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water. When she rounds back into her living room, she sees that Chloe is exasperatedly trying to pull her boots off, her lips pouting with heavy-eyed frustration.
"Here," Beca places all of the items she had recovered on the coffee table before tapping Chloe's wrist, causing her to fall backwards once more. Beca tugs on her boots and sets them beside the couch before she hands Chloe the pillow and unfurls the blanket.
Chloe shifts so she's laying lengthways on the couch, smiling peacefully as Beca drapes the blanket over her.
"The bathroom is over there," Beca gestures, "And I brought you some water. If you need anything, I'm just through the door at the end of the hall."
Chloe's eyes flutter gratefully as she watches Beca through her lashes for a moment. Then, suddenly, she has a fist clenched tightly in the front of Beca's t-shirt and she's tugging firmly. Beca doubles over, mostly in surprise, until their faces are almost close enough to touch – not for the first time that evening. Beca is still reeling from the movement, and the warm breath fanning across her cheeks, when Chloe presses a brief, albeit gentle, kiss to her lips. It's barely more than a friendly peck, but still, Beca's entire body flushes from head to toe. She feels hot all over, like molten lava is oozing down her spine and through all of her limbs.
"Thank you," Chloe smiles before releasing her and falling back into the pillow with a hum.
Before Beca's brain has even caught up or processed any of the feelings coursing through her, Chloe is asleep.
