Hello! This is my first Bechloe One-Shot, and my first language is not English so I'd appreciate it if you'd just ignore my typos ;) I did my best!
Also, this is dedicated to the wonderful Ana Beatriz (anabiaduarte here). She pressed me into writing this, so if you enjoy it, thank her! :3
I do not own Pitch Perfect or its characters (unfortunately). Lyrics are from the song The One That Got Away by Katy Perry.
Never planned that one day
I'd be losing you...
The redhead took a deep breath as she stared into her nearly packed suitcase. One of her small, delicate hands reached out to caress the smooth surface of her favourite dress, a red, simple one with big buttons, perfectly folded with the rest of her things; in another life, one that she'd be way stronger than she is now, she'd reach out to hold it to her face, maybe even smell it, trying to find traces of her. She knew she didn't have much time; soon, her dear mother would be knocking on the door and urging her to hurry.
"Beca Mitchell! I am not letting you go to Florida with a messy suitcase! Come back here, you little kitchen rat!"
Her same voice echoed through her thoughts for a brief second, though she did her best to shake it away. She didn't need more memories, not now. She was going to college, and it's in college where people start fresh, at least, that's what her daddy told her when she came home crying that other night, that seemed so, so long ago, when it really had only been a year. A year. 365 days. Three hundred and sixty five days, all of those, surrounded by people, yet all alone.
That night...
Summer after high school
When we first met
Aubrey had called her that afternoon, urging her to come to the county fair with her and her "he's-not-my-sweetheart" Jesse. Most times, Chloe doesn't mind going out with the two of them, but she's not in the mood today. She doesn't really like county fairs, maybe except for the cotton candy, but Aubrey is so annoyingly cute - and persuasive - she agrees. It's her best friend, anyway.
She puts on her red dress with big buttons, pulls up her hair in a ponytail and leaves. She doesn't tell her Daddy that Jesse is coming tonight: he doesn't like him (something about him being too frisky), but for an unexplainable reason, she wants to get out of the house tonight.
"Gosh, Chloe, you look lovely!" Aubrey beamed and quickly went over to give her a hug when she met them at the place she promised they would be, right in the front of the popcorn stand.
"T-Thank you." Chloe swallowed, and right after she had said hello to Jesse as well and Aubrey was about to open her mouth to comment something she didn't really want to know, a tiny brunette skipped over to them, her small hand holding up a big cone of cotton candy. She was wearing jeans (girls normally wore dresses, especially to county fairs) and a plaid white 'n blue shirt. She had big earrings falling from earlobes, and a smile bright enough to light up a whole city.
Chloe wondered why her heart beat so fast.
"Right on time, Beca!" Aubrey clapped, bringing Beca over closer to Chloe. "Chloe, this is Beca Mitchell, Jesse's friend from New Jersey... She just graduated High School as well. Beca, this is Chloe Beale, my best friend." She grinned widely, and Chloe bit her lip.
"It's really nice to meet you, Beca." She said politely, though her first instinct was to hug her tight and ask her for a bite of her cotton candy. Why did she want to act like a little girl?
"Hi!" Beca said cheerfully, and waved her head to the side. "Seems like you'll be my date tonight, Ms. Beale."
She laughs before she even has the chance to hold herself back, and suddenly, it's like Aubrey, Jesse and the whole county fair don't even exist. "I'm sure you won't disappoint." Chloe blushes when Beca offers her her arm, and Aubrey raises an eyebrow. She's the only one that knows her secret besides her parents, a secret that could cost her life in 1952, and it was like her best friend warned her, don't fall in love with a simple look.
But she was far in too deep for that, little did she know.
They all go to the Ferris Wheel later on, and Beca offers her some cotton candy. She gladly accepts.
"Cotton candy is the one good thing about these county fairs." Chloe's face burns on fire as she shyly takes a bite. Beca's mouth is so pretty, she is so pretty, she realizes, with her sweet, yet challenging smile, her shiny brown hair and her dark blue eyes.
Beca kisses her that night, just about as the Ferris Wheel reaches its highest point. It's Chloe's first kiss, and she hopes the brunette doesn't know, or doesn't notice it. She'd hate for her to disappear, because she definitely wants those lips against hers again.
We'd make out in your Mustang
To Radiohead
"I like kissing." Chloe moans just as her lips leave Beca's, though her face burns right after. She hates how easily she blushes.
"You do?" Beca wiggles her eyebrows down at her, just about another sad song blurts through the radio. Chloe nods again, though her face gets even redder, making Beca giggle as she presses a kiss to the corner of the redhead's mouth. "Look at you, my cute peppermint." She teases. Beca loves to make comments about her gingerness, though she likes it when Beca calls her hers.
They've been doing this a lot lately, driving out to kiss where no one could find them; it has been four months since they met at the fair, though it feels like no time at all. Chloe hates it when Beca is not around, she hates falling asleep without her by her side and she hates it even more that Beca has to live with Jesse: her father kicked her out once he found out about her darkest secret, the same Chloe had. It was selfish of her to think that if Beca hadn't been thrown out, she'd never have come to New York, they'd never meet, and they'd never fall in love.
(She still wonders if Beca really loves her. They haven't said anything, and she's scared to do so).
"Stop it!" Chloe giggles, glad that Beca drove them to the middle of the open road nearby the city's exit to the next small town, where they could use her old Chevy to make out in the back seats where no one would bother to hear them. "And you're my little kitchen rat. So small, that someday I think I might crush you."
"At least I don't have to bend my legs to fit in the back seat while we lie down." Beca stuck her tongue out at Chloe, but the redhead immediately leaned in to give her another long, tender kiss.
Yeah, she really likes kissing, kissing Beca, her little kitchen rat.
(Not that she has kissed anyone else, but she knows that no other kiss would make her feel as Beca's does).
And on my 18th birthday
We got matching tattoos
"I'm scared." Beca confesses while Chloe presses the cold cloth against her own hand, giggling at Beca's terrified expression as the tattooist sterilized the machine.
"Don't be. I'm here." Chloe assured her, leaning in to give her a quick, silent peck on the lips so no one would hear, glad the man was turned around. They couldn't afford to get caught, now that things were going so incredibly good, so good it seemed she was in a constant dream.
It was Chloe's eighteenth birthday, and Beca was the one to suggest matching tattoos. For the rest of that stupid small town - except for Chloe's parents, which always accepted their daughter's sexuality and Aubrey, who had already been filled in with the news - they were just two close friends getting tattoos, so it was not a big deal. They decided on something simple, a small black heart to their left wrists. It was somehow a cliché, but they didn't care.
Half an hour later, Beca is still moaning and whining in pain as they leave the tattoo booth to have some ice cream before Beca has to head home to the Swanson's household: Jesse's mom was nice, but she was always right on time.
"C'mon, it was not so bad." Chloe smiled, wishing she could take her girlfriend's hand as they walk down the street. "I can kiss it better later... If you want." She offered, and a small smirk appeared on Beca's naturally pink lips.
"If you kiss there, you might have to kiss somewhere else, too." Beca murmured in a low voice, making Chloe explode in a fit of laughter.
Used to steal your parent's liquor
And climb to the roof
Talk about our future
Like we had a clue
"You're drunk." Beca poked Chloe's nose, and the redhead shook her head, still in complete and utter denial.
"I am not!" She waved the empty bottle of vodka they had stolen from Mr. Beale. Most nights, when Mrs. Swanson went to church camp with Jesse, Beca stayed over at Chloe's, and after her parents went to bed (asking the girls openly to leave Chloe's bedroom door open) they climbed to the roof and stared at the bright stars.
"You're in denial, peppermint." Beca smirked, and Chloe rolled over to place a deep kiss to her mouth, sliding her tongue inside it and making them moan lowly in union. "Denial." She said a little breathlessly, and Chloe shook her head with a small smile, leaning her head to Beca's warm chest.
"Maybe I am." Chloe murmured happily, nuzzling her face against Beca. The brunette smiled in response, running her small fingers over Chloe's wavy hair.
Sometimes they got scared, scared to an almost death, fearing being adults. They were already applying for college, and they wanted the same area of study, though in a completely different major: They wanted to study Music, but Chloe wanted to be a singer, like Judy Garland, she said, but Beca wanted to study and play the cello. When the brunette first told her, it was hard to believe her little kitchen rat, her little rebel Beca wanted to play such a classic instrument as the cello for a living, but most of all, the redhead was just unbelievably glad that they'd probably go to the same school: both also wanted Princeton, that had the best Music program in the US at the time, and with Chloe's and Beca's outstanding grades over High School, their admission were bound to be accepted soon.
"Things change in college, you know." Beca said on a low tone, fingers still playing with Chloe's orange hair. "At least, that's what people say… I..." Her voice hitched over her throat, and Chloe shook her head, rising her head and reaching out so her thumb brushed against Beca's cheek.
"Things won't change between us." Chloe reassured her with a smile, nodding softly as her thumb still caressed Beca's soft skin, the words stuck on her tongue as she opened her mouth to say them. It had been already more than four months since she's known Beca... It was about time. She had to do it. She had to tell her. What if she wouldn't get the chance afterwards?
"How do you know?" Beca bit her lip. "How do you know we're not going to be like every other couple that goes to college, Chloe? Why would we be any different?" She questioned, her voice turning slightly louder. "We're going to meet new people, and -
"Beca." Chloe interrupted her with a calm tone, making Beca's face relax. They stared into each other's eyes for a little longer before the redhead spoke again. "I know we're not going to be like the others because… Because you were the one who taught me to be happy, Beca. And I don't mean just plain happy, I mean like-in-the movies happy... I've never felt like this before... And I don't want to give you up." She swallowed, the three words she wanted to say so bad stuck on her throat. She was such a coward. Yet, she hoped Beca understood what she meant.
She must have, judging by her smile. From the short time Beca and Chloe were together, that was the most beautiful smile the brunette ever gave her. "I don't want to give you up, either." She brought Chloe's face closer to kiss her fiercely, only breaking their kiss to murmur, "And I'm not going to."
Thinking back to that time, Chloe wishes her lover had meant it.
I was June and you were my Johnny cash
Never one without the other
We made a pact
"C'mon, Beca, dance with me!" Chloe giggled, pulling Beca's small hands and only loving to tease her more as she rolled her dark blue eyes.
"Chloe, you know I don't dance!" She whined, her bottom lip sticking out. "Please, don't make me embarrass myself."
"You won't, you silly goose. You'll be dancing with me." Chloe smirked, squeezing her tiny hand. They were on this little dance saloon downtown, a saloon for girls and boys like them. They could kiss, hold hands and share milkshakes, besides sway to the melody without being watched by strange looks of disgust. It was almost a miracle, and they couldn't be seen driving there anyway, so Chloe wanted to take the chance to do everything they couldn't for months. She was happy just dancing with her, and the other couples surrounding them made her shyness go away.
"Fine." Beca finally gave in, knowing she could never deny her peppermint anything.
Now I've got arms
and you've got arms
let's get together and use those arms
Let's go
Times a wastin'
"Johnny Cash!" Chloe beamed, swaying along with Beca to the cheerful song. The smaller woman rolled her eyes again, though deep inside, she was so, so incredibly happy to be there with Chloe, dancing to that silly Johnny Cash and June Carter song, even if it meant she had to wear a dress.
She'd wear a dress for Chloe any day.
"I've got lips, you've got lips, let's get together and use those lips..." Chloe's pretty voice sang only to her as they danced, and Beca let out a giggle as she kissed her thoroughly.
"Calm down sweetie, calm down." Chloe's father, Andrew, stroked his daughter's hair as she sobbed against his chest. The girl's mother appeared over her husband's office and frowned at the image of her daughter crying, though with a simple look of Andrew, she nodded and decided to go the kitchen to make Chloe some tea.
Chloe had gotten home late that night. Beca invited her over to the Swanson's house to talk, and the redhead had been having a strange, heavy feeling over her heart all day, as if she knew something bad was about to happen. Either way, she managed to keep herself calm, knowing that it was just Beca, her little kitchen rat, her Beca. There was no reason to be scared.
"Okay, Beca, next joke." Chloe let out a nervous laugh as they sat on Beca's small bed, knowing she had to be kidding. But why, calling her over just to play with her feelings, or just to joke around? This wasn't Beca.
"I'm not joking." Beca's lips pressed together as she let out small sniff. Chloe had never, ever seen her cry before, and seeing her dark blue eyes filling up with tears meant that she was indeed dead serious, even if it was completely, utterly surreal.
Chloe blinked her own tears away when she didn't even realize she was crying in the first place. Her heart ached with each throb it took, and it felt like her whole world had been taken away from her. A day ago, she wouldn't mind if the feet above her ground disappeared, because she would still have Beca, but now...
"My dad sending me to move in here when I told him about me… Mr. and Mrs. Swanson being so welcoming even when they didn't have to… It was all a plan, I..." Beca's voice failed, and so did Chloe's heartbeat.
"S-So you're just gonna do it?" Chloe questioned, wanting her voice to sound angry and strong, though it came out weak and sad. "You're just going to dress up all pretty in a wedding d-dress, and you're gonna go down the damn aisle and just… M-Marry Jesse? That's it?" Her throat and chest hurt so, so much she swore she was about to collapse by any minute. In fact, she prayed she would, she prayed she'd just fall down dead, to a world where she wouldn't have to face Beca ever again. "What about college? What about playing cello? What about... What about me?" Chloe hated how pathetic she sound, and how pathetic she made her feel.
"Do you think this is easy on me?" Beca pointed her hands to her own chest, and finally, her proud, big tears fell, just as hurt as Chloe. "I didn't choose this, Chloe, you know me, you know who I truly am, and I would never, ever -
"Wouldn't you?" Finally, Chloe's voice high pitched, showing just how angry and incredibly sad she was. "I'm not sure if I know the real you anymore. Because my Beca, the rebel, brave Beca would really, never, ever accept this. She'd… She'd tell me to run away with her, and leave everyone behind..." Chloe's throat closed once more in more tears, even more heartbroken knowing that Beca wouldn't do that, or she would've already kissed her and told her to pack her bags.
"Chloe, I -" Beca's hands reached out for Chloe's arms, but she moved away from her embrace. It hurt her terribly thinking this was the last chance she had to touch Beca, to hug her, kiss her, hold her hand...
"Don't bother." Chloe sniffed, grabbing her bag with shaky hands, wondering how she'd even walk home on her state. "I wish you and Jesse the best of luck." She nodded, not daring to meet Beca in the eye. She never wanted to look into her eyes again. "But I don't want to see you again. Don't come looking for me. You owe me, at least that." She closed the door behind her and silently left the house, that damn house, and Beca behind.
Once Chloe got home, she immediately threw herself into her daddy's arms; he was sitting at his usual armchair in his office. He was reading the paper when she came to sob against his chest, and she was glad for the small comfort she received. They stood like that for what seemed hours, when it really just a few minutes had passed. She could smell her mother's tea.
"I never... I didn't even tell her I loved her." She said sadly, her cheek brushing against her father's coat. She didn't want him to answer, not really, and any way, she was saying it more to herself than to anyone else.
I should've told you
What you meant to me, whoa
'cause now I pay the price
Sometimes when I miss you
I put those records on
Someone said you had your tattoo removed
It was the first time she ever listened to a Johnny Cash's song since that night. It had been four months already, four months since she lost the reason she had been so happy just a while ago, though it didn't hurt any less.
She finally took the courage to read the paper. It had arrived to the door of their house just like it did every day, but this one was from two months ago. Her fingertips brushed against the gray pages until she met the Wedding Column, where the local paper announced recently wedded couples with their pictures, and there it was.
Chloe was right: she looked so gorgeous in a wedding dress, and with her hair up, and with make up on, even when she looked way more beautiful running wild and free, a way Jesse would never get to know her. She knew Aubrey was just as sad as she was for losing her so called boyfriend, but she didn't think she really understood.
That was when it hit her: Beca's small wrist, a wrist she had kissed many times before, was completely blank. Just skin, pure skin, with a very small scar on it, a scar that took place of the little black heart they had tattooed together on Chloe's eighteenth birthday. She had so many gorgeous memories of that day, how she kissed Beca's wrist (and mouth) better over and over when they reached her place, or how they shared ice cream. Beca slept over, and they cuddled until the sun appeared on Chloe's window.
Maybe, Jesse had made her do it. (That's what Chloe liked to think anyway, because the possibility of Beca getting their tattoo removed hurt too much for her to bear).
Once again, the redhead was filled with such strength of sadness she didn't even think it was possible, though she was getting used to it. She would never forget Beca, or any of the moments they shared, but she hoped one day she'd think of Beca and feel absolutely nothing.
In another life
I would be your girl
We'd keep all our promises
Be us against the world
She had to leave.
This was her big shot, her huge chance of becoming what she had always dreamt of, a singer, like her beloved Judy Garland. Chloe had been accepted to Princeton, the college of her dreams, and although she still mourned at the thought it was the college of their dreams, Beca was a housewife now, she had her own life, and as hard as the past year had been, she was now comfortably numb.
Taking a last look at the red buttoned dress, she closed her last suitcase, dragging two of them out of the room.
Despite of all the memories of a lifetime, she didn't look back.
All this money
Can't buy me a time machine, no
Can't replace you with a million rings, no
Beca Swanson looked around, sighing in relief at how quiet her household was. She watched the TV in the lowest volume, afraid to interrupt her own inner thoughts.
After the rushed wedding, her and Jesse moved in a nice house on the antique neighborhoods of the city. As crazy as it seemed, Jesse was a good shoulder to cry on; he had always been a good friend, and she couldn't blame him for what her father had done to her, either his parents. After ten years of being married to a man she would never romantically love, they had learned how to pretend when necessary.
With Jesse taking over his father's job they lived a very comfortable life, and as much as old Beca would be disgusted by that idea, Beca settled down. She didn't go to college, and she never found a job, either. Her therapist insisted she should take antidepressant pills just in case, since she had a tendency to go down that road, but she refused. She was paying for her sins, paying for refusing the love of her life the only thing she had ever wanted from her: for them to be together always, no matter what happened. She was a coward, a huge coward. She should've tried... She should've told Chloe to pack her bags, and they would've made it, they would've made it anywhere, because with Chloe, she was always home. Now, it was way too late for any of that, and all that was left was regret.
Things became easier. Jesse and she went on with their pretending game, she played the good wife character, and him, the proud good husband. Beca still cried over Chloe, every day before she went to bed, and she would eventually fall asleep with Jesse comforting her or when her tears sung her to sleep. Each day, her desire to call her or write her overcame her body, although she had made a promise all those years ago, a silent promise, that she would never look for her again, in any way. Even if she did, Chloe had much more to do, now: Right after she graduated from Princeton she made into the business, with concerts there and there. Now, everyone wanted to meet Chloe Beale, and go to her concerts, buy her albums and wear the same clothes she did.
The day that Jesse's parents, her father and the rest of society pressed them into having children finally came, not that she hadn't been expecting for it: By the time she got pregnant it was around 1955 after all, and the world's mind was still tightly closed, especially on that small town on the inner country. Women had to have children, at least one. Her night with Jesse had been her first and her last. She never wanted to sleep with anyone ever again, not another man, and not another woman, since the only one she had ever wanted was too far away from her reach. She gave birth to their only daughter in April 1956, and she was thankful that after that happened, Jesse never questioned any of her decisions. He was still her good friend Jesse, and he liked this no better than she did.
They both loved the kid, though, and Beca was glad her only child had a good life, one much, much better than she had, and a good education, an open minded education. Chloe would be proud of her for having a daughter, she likes to think, even if it terribly hurt her to have conceived it (more than she liked to admit, she still held her pride, after all), and give birth to it.
"Mama, what are you doing?" She heard Heather's soft voice besides the couch and shut down the TV's volume completely.
"Just… Watching some TV, honey pie." Beca patted the couch besides her, and the seven year old shot her a big smile when her eyes met the image on the TV. "That's Chloe Beale."
"Yes, that's her." Beca bit her lip as the recording on the screen showed her so talented love softly singing a song of her own.
"I love her." Heather beamed, sighing happily as she leaned against the couch and watched the screen with attention.
Beca smiled sadly, turning up the volume as her thumb brushed against the scar left by the tattoo removal. "I love her too, kiddo, I love her, too."
In another life
I would make you stay
So I don't have to say
You were the one that got away
The one that got away