A/N - It's entirely likely that this fic will turn into a series of Mitchsen!friendship one-shots with or without an overlying theme. This particular chapter (posted a few months back on Tumblr) is based off Labyrinth's Beneath Your Beautiful.

"You're crazy, Chloe. Aubrey hates me."

"She doesn't hate you, Beca," Chloe said, shaking her head as Beca once again denied the idea that Aubrey might not be as bad as the DJ thought. "She just…has trouble letting people in."

"Miss Perfect?" Beca laughed sardonically. "She surrounds herself with people. Don't you remember last week, how she was going on about that study group of hers?" Beca's voice rose, mimicking the blonde's tone from practice. "'Every one of them would have failed that test if I wasn't there.'" When Chloe didn't respond, she added, "Besides, I'm the one with 'people issues'. Miss Popularity herself has been oh-so-kind to point that out. Repeatedly."

Chloe was still looking at her like Beca was missing the point. "And you were oh-so-quick to snap back at her," was all she said, smirking a bit.

Beca was immediately suspicious of that smirk. "What's that look for?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh, just thinking of how alike the two of you are." The smirk remained as Chloe stood, stretched, and began walking towards the door, ignoring the dumbfounded look on the DJ's face.

"…We're nothing like!" Beca finally sputtered, words finding her again just before the redhead left the room.

Chloe paused in the doorway, looking back with a thoughtful look, as if trying to decide exactly what to say. "I've known Aubrey a long time, Beca," she started softly. "And you might have walls around you…but hers are so high she doesn't even realize they're there."

'Her walls are so high she doesn't even realize they're there.'

Though she had blown it off while Chloe was staring her down, the conversation from earlier kept creeping back into Beca's thoughts when she least wanted it. This time it was during the Bella's rehearsal, where Aubrey was ranting about timeliness and getting things done and how they'd never amount to anything. The tirade had started about three minutes and thirty three seconds ago (there wasn't much else to do while ignoring the blonde aside from watching the clock). Beca wasn't positive, but it was entirely likely that their captain hadn't taken a breath since she started.

The first, and only, pause came when Stacie and Denise came walking in through the doors, laughing about something (that the rest of them would likely never get to hear about, if Aubrey had her way).

"You're late," the blonde had stated, giving both girls the typical Posen glare.

'At least she's stopped pacing.' (Beca wouldn't be surprised if there was an Aubrey-sized groove in the floor by the end of the year.)

"Sorry, Aubrey," was all Stacie could say before the blonde started right back into her tirade. (Those three minutes and thirty three seconds must have been a rehearsal, because a lot of it sounded really familiar.)

"We've only got a few weeks left before Regionals. How are we supposed to be ready when there's such a blatant disregard for schedules? Not to mention-"

Beca had no intention of listening to the rant a second time (never mind that she didn't really listen to it the first time around). "Relax, Aubrey," she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Three minutes isn't going to cost us Regionals."

"There's no way you can be sure of that," Aubrey snapped back, turning her Posen-glare-of-death on the DJ, who refused to be intimidated.

"We can't be sure of anything."

"Which is why we prepare for everything!" Aubrey's tone was matter-of-fact, but her voice had risen to a point where Beca would have sworn she heard a tremor of nerves. But the blonde was fully composed when she continued. "And why we start rehearsals on time, not three minutes late."

"More like fifteen, at this rate." The comment was muttered under someone's breath, and no one fessed up to it as Aubrey's glare shot around the room.

Aubrey stood there for a moment, chest rising and falling in deep breaths as she made eye contact with each person in the room until they looked away. "Well?" she finally said curtly. "Why are you all still standing around? Let's go over what we rehearsed yesterday."

No one dared say anything, knowing the time for jokes was not as they silently made their way to their starting positions. Beca hesitated before following, eyes still trained on the Bellas' captain. There was an echo of something familiar in the girl's eyes.

'She doesn't even realize they're there.'

Loneliness.

But it was gone in an instant as the blonde took Beca's slowness as rebellion. "Don't make me repeat myself, Mitchell!' she barked, the echo replaced by a blaze of irritation.

"Yes ma'am," Beca grumbled, rolling her eyes again as she moved into position.

Miss Perfect? Lonely? No chance in hell.

Chloe was wrong. They were nothing alike.