So when I started this whole Fanfiction thing, I had three insurmountable problems. 1) I can't write multichapters. They're too long and I'm not that good of a writer so I might just turn them into a snoozefest. 2) I can't write a Triple Treble. The characterization of 3 different girls will be so hard. And 3) I can't write smut. I'll end up laughing at the gore.

And hey, look where we are now! Killing three birds with one stone! Okay, too much enthusiasm. Let's just get on with this thing and hope it won't be a train wreck.

Note: This is a different universe from my previous fanfics. Jesse and Aubrey are definitely together in there. But here...you don't want spoilers? Nope? Then belly roll, aca-bitches.

Borrow Legal Reasoning and Legal Writing from the Library. Update Jesse on dinner plans. Pick up some tea. Check if Chloe and Beca is coming to dinner -

And right after typing that - bam. There it is again.

You couldn't understand when it really started: that gnawing feeling inside you that makes your chest feel heavy - so heavy you sometimes don't want to get up in the morning. But you are your father's daughter. And so you get up. You run around law school, you eat your calorie-calibrated meals, you do cardio on weekends, you hang around with the Bellas, you listen while Chloe babbles on about how sweet Beca was today.

You walk around carrying this - whatever it is - that makes you feel like you should have something you shouldn't. And the frustrating part is you don't even know what that is. All you know is the longer you live with it, the deeper you get dragged under some sort of abyss inside you, and it's killing you.

You heave out a huge sigh and wrap up the reminders on your phone. You finish your cereal and wear the outfit you picked earlier. You expertly put up your hair in a bun, apply makeup, pick up your books. There. Aubrey Posen back to regular programming.

Maybe it started a year ago, on the ICCA championship night, when Beca ran to the stands and kissed Jesse. You don't realize it's happening until you hear a sob behind you. You turn around to see Chloe wiping a single tear away from her cheek, and you follow her distraught eyes. Oh.

A weight settles down in the pit of your stomach. You're suddenly, irrationally, unexplainably angry. With Beca, because you're pretty sure the only term for what she and Chloe have been doing in all those rehearsals is eye-fucking. With Chloe, because how can she be so stupid to want such a dense, hopeless person? With... you think for a moment, trying to explain the exact reason why you're so angry, and you come up with some theory that maybe, just maybe, you want Jesse. Because he's a cool guy and he doesn't shrink when he sees you and there's no way you could want Beca, right?

You should have realized back then, how you lived to rationalize.

You gather Chloe in your arms, trying to keep your own frustration from your face. Keep it classy, Posen. Classy. Chloe clutches you wordlessly and it's a surprise, how you can hear her heart breaking amidst the raucous cheers. Maybe it's your own. You're not really sure.

Or maybe it was a few days after that, when Beca and Jesse turn up at your doorstep. (Or yours and Chloe's doorstep, technically.) It had been a rough morning, trying to get Chloe to get out of bed and eat something - or even just do something, aside from digging a hole in her bedroom to sulk in.

(It actually takes all of your willpower not to lie down and mope next to her.)

So you're a little shocked when you open the door and see the cause of your heartbreak waiting there. Beca. You shake your head mentally - you mean, Jesse. The three of you stand there a beat too long, and for once in your life, no reprimands are coming to your head.

"We're...um..." Beca starts, then stops, clearing her throat. "Is Chloe in?"

You recover your wits at the image of Chloe slumped in her sheets, eyes red, watching The Notebook for the umpteenth time. "No. You're not seeing her again. Not after what you did – "

Beca holds up a hand and you're surprised at how fast you stop. "Aubrey, I get it. I'm a dick. But...I had to kiss Jesse for me to see that I want Chloe. That's a shitty reason for kissing someone else, but I want her and I'm going to tell her that right now."

Jesse, standing behind Beca, nodded. "It was like kissing my sibling. We looked at each other afterwards and went, 'ugh'."

You sigh and step aside, letting them in. Beca goes straight to Chloe's room, having been there a lot of times before. Jesse bounds to the couch, plops down like he owned it, and looks at you expectantly.

"What?" you snap, and then you try to fix your face into genuine curiosity because it wouldn't do to scare away the guy of your dreams. (Or so you'd like to believe.)

Jesse smiles shyly, and it's different from his usual boyish grin. "I know this will sound weird, but...I came to see you."

"So...what happened to not dating a Treblemaker?"

You scoff at Chloe's teasing tone. She came out of her room wearing fresh clothes (thank God) and a huge smile on her face, no doubt caused by Beca and Jesse's impromptu visit.

"It's just an invitation to a friendly dinner between two captains. Besides, a lot of things have changed." You keep your voice even.

"Yeah. Bumper's gone," Chloe laughs and you feel your stomach heave. Ugh, the guy had been at Barden for a decade, and he never would have stopped feeling up the Bellas every year if not for John Mayer. "So...Beca and I kissed."

You stare at her from the couch. "You know better than to entice me to puke, right? Because I will, if you continue with that train of thought."

Chloe leaps on the space next to you, leaning on your shoulder. "No, no. It's just - I am so in love with Beca, Bree. Like I wanna marry her and have her aca-babies. And she tells me she feels the same. You're my best friend and I know you were just protecting me earlier, but we're fine now, okay? So it would be nice if you could...you know...be friends too."

You push her off your shoulder with mock annoyance and rearrange yourself into a prim-and-proper sitting position. "What happened to not enticing me to puke?" But Chloe's face was dead serious, her bright blue eyes earnest, so you try to match her expression. "Beca and I are friends."

"Nope. You listen to each other with polite smiles on your faces, trying not to reach out and wring the other's throat. You're just tolerating each other."

"Did you give Beca this little speech as well?"

"She promises she'll try not to put out her claws when you're around."

You glance at her imploring eyes – damn it, Chloe Beale sure gets everything she wants with that Disney princess act - and finally give in. "Fine. We'll do this whole friendship thing." And hope not to die in the process, you think grimly.

Chloe squeals and gives you her trademark bone-breaker hug. Already you're thinking this friendship thing could be the death of you.

You're pretty sure it started two months after that, near the end of summer. You were all piled up in your green Prius, Jesse humming at the wheel, and you look at him and wonder. Is it all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?

Jesse briefly glances at you and whines jokingly. "Don't stare at me like that, babe. Not while I'm driving."

You pout and play the adoring girlfriend. "Is there a switch to turn off the handsomeness?"

He chuckles, and it turns into a full laugh when he glances up at the rearview mirror. "Hey! We can actually see you, ladies!"

You crane your head and look at the backseat; sure enough, Beca and Chloe were making out. Again. For the hundredth time in this two-hour road trip. Beca's fingers on Chloe's rich red hair, Chloe's hands underneath Beca's hoodie - and you suddenly feel that irrational anger, like it was the ICCA championship night all over again, but this time you're also utterly confused. You have Jesse now and Chloe and Beca have each other and why the hell are you so damn furious then?

Deep breaths. You suddenly wanted to vomit. On a perfect sunny day, on a lovely trip to the beach with your boyfriend and best friend and frenemy. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Jesse's kind of slowing down the car, looking at you and cradling your cheek. "You could use some water."

He's really so sweet, he's obviously so worried, and you idly wonder why you aren't as in tune with him as he is with you. "I'm good. Just a little dizzy." With the fact that lesbians are kissing in my backseat and I'm pretty sure I'm not homophobic but it makes me so mad, you follow up dryly, though of course you don't tell him that.

He stops on the side of the road just so he can go to the trunk of the car where he kept the cooler. Beca and Chloe finally realize the car isn't moving, and Chloe lets out an appreciative aww when Jesse returns with three ice-cold bottles. "You're making my girl thirsty, you two," he kids the couple in the backseat, tossing two bottles at them and opening the third one for you.

"Whipped as a puppy," Beca says in an undertone.

"Yep, just like you," Chloe giggles, snuggling up to the brunette's arm. You shoot them a glare that silences them, then take a sip of water and nod at Jesse's expectant face. "I'm good. Thanks."

He starts the car and within a few seconds you're looking at passing scenery. Jesse then takes one of your hands, kisses it, and puts it on his lap. You smile at him for the gesture and he beams right back. You love this guy. How could you not?

You were not this person before. Sure, your life may not be as charming and peachy and princess-y as Chloe's, but Major James Alastair Posen at least made sure you grew up perfect.

You were told to have the highest grade in class, from grade school to college (or pack your bags). You were told to study something that would get you employment in the highest echelons of the society. You were told to marry a military man or a doctor or a lawyer. Your father didn't have to be specific, but you're pretty sure he means a guy.

So far it was all good. You lived up to expectations, with only the slight drawback of stress-vomiting. You finished top of the class. You got into Emory and you're going on second year of law school with excellent marks. You're dating Jesse, who, while nowhere near your dad's criteria, is pretty much a guy the last time you checked.

You were not this person who checks out Beca's legs as the group moves forward to the sand and crashing blue waves. You were not this person who laughs instead of throwing a fit when she not-so-sneakily roots around your bag for the tanning lotion.

"Who the hell wears hoodies to the beach?" you say, half-mocking, half in jest.

"She wants some sort of big reveal for her bikini," Chloe calls out from where she and Jesse were preparing the table.

"Big reveal, my ass," Beca mutters. She unceremoniously yanks off the hoodie, and you were definitely not this person who gasps a little at the perfection underneath - creamy toned abs, full breasts covered with little scraps of black cloth. Then again, it was so Beca to get a black bikini - and a wolf-whistle from Chloe cuts through the balmy air and you're brought back to earth.

"Hey, you okay?" Beca's snapping her fingers at your face. "You're not gonna puke, are you?"

You lamely shake your head no, and again, you're not this person who never has a biting retort ready. Beca may be the queen of sarcasm, but you're relentless with comebacks because yeah, you're one of those people who just have to have the last word.

Jesse turns up at that moment to save you and you're unsure if you're happy or annoyed with the interruption. But you let him tug you away from Beca, and when the two of you walk away, you can still feel Beca's slate blue eyes on you.

You're not this person who looks on a moment too long while Chloe and Beca are frolicking in the water. You tell yourself it's just you playing mother hen to Chloe, because the redhead has let far too many people in her life for your liking. You've nursed her through a lot of one-night stands and short-lived romances. And she might swear Beca's different, but you really can't say – after all, this is the girl you wanted to incinerate the moment you laid eyes on her, with her stupid smirk and ear monstrosities and the knowing gleam in her eye.

Okay, you begrudgingly admit she has her good qualities too - she helped the Bellas win, she's talented, she's actually a softie around Chloe (and gradually around you and Jesse too, being around her more often that you would have wanted), she's driven, she's really hot in that damn bikini and you just want to rip it off and see what's –

- Wait, what?

Backtrack.

You're watching them because you're a mother hen. You worry about Chloe. You may be a bitch, but not the type that steals other's girlfriends. End.

Beca's suddenly shouting "Sick!" in the couch where she was watching TV (surprisingly) and you can't help but look up from your laptop. You decide if it's worth it to berate her for yelling when you glance at the TV screen and see what it was she was being so excited about.

Chloe comes out of the kitchen, attracted by the noise. Beca was now standing wide-eyed like some fucking kid, actually bouncing up and down with excitement. "Babe! It's the new trailer for Grand Theft Auto 5!"

Already Chloe's wrinkling her nose at the chaos onscreen. She actually winces at the sight of the rifleman doing head shots and clears her throat. "I don't...is that a movie?"

Beca looks at her like she's been living under a rock. "It's the greatest open-world action game ever!" She turns back to the TV. "Wait, that guy looks an awful lot like the character from GTA San Andreas. Chris? Charles?"

You surprise even yourself when you blurt out, "Carl. Carl Johnson."

This time Beca's head swivels to look at you so fast you almost heard it crick. Chloe's jaw drops. "Bree, you mean you play that...that abomination?"

You shrug. "Ask me about Counter Strike."

Beca's still staring at you, but she's walking over to Chloe, wrapping an arm around the redhead's waist. "I'm gonna line up at the video store when it comes out. It's gonna be frickin' awesome – "

"You are not going to buy that," Chloe says, not bothering to hide her horror. "It'll make you violent!"

"Psh, you sound like my mother," Beca grumbles.

"I mean it! Studies show that people who play video games like those – "

"What study? That's, like, shit Bowling for Columbine disproved way back in 2000."

"You are not going to get that game, Rebeca Elise Mitchell," Chloe says dangerously, drawing herself to full height, her hands on her hips.

Beca rolls her eyes and gives out a loud huff. "Yes, m'lady," she mutters sullenly.

Once Chloe's out of earshot, though, Beca rounds on your spot at the coffee table, taking the pouf chair opposite you. "So...Aubrey Posen, gamer extraordinaire?"

You snort. "No. I just like the noisy ones - first-person-shooter stuff."

"Why?" You weren't expecting the questioning at all - it's even a surprise that Beca Mitchell hasn't said one sarcastic word to you in thirty seconds - but you keep your eyes on your laptop and decide to humor her.

"My father's a really angry guy," you say. "And even if I'm in my room and he's downstairs, sometimes full-volume Ace on Base on headphones isn't enough to shut out his voice, so..."

"It drowns out the yelling better," Beca says. She clears her throat and clarifies. "The gunshots drown out the yelling better."

You nod, still focused on your laptop screen. On the corner of your eye she's fidgeting and you relish this moment when Beca's really awkward, actually trying to think of something sensible to say for once. She asks, "Have you tried going on six wanted stars in GTA 4?"

"Oh please. I bet you haven't even lasted five minutes."

"Well, how long have you lasted?" Real-life Beca's back, the constant challenge once again present in her voice.

"Twenty. I got bored and Molotov'ed myself." No need to mention your character spent that time cooped up inside a tank.

Beca punches your arm with a grin, and it's the first time she touches you of her own accord. You gasp, more out of shock than actual outrage. "Keep your hobbit hands to yourself!"

"So we're getting GTA 5, right?" Beca's bouncing on her seat, and there's no indication in her face that she's amazed you're not strangling each other yet. "I'll hide my console in your room and we'll play when Chloe's asleep...okaaay, that came out wrong."

"Ew! You just indecently propositioned me behind my best friend's back!" You stare at her, trying to re-channel your inner bitch, and then you're taken aback by how...congenially her blue eyes were looking back at you. She sticks out her tongue and you think maybe you could actually do this whole friendship thing.

That is, if you can resist the alarms going off in your head.