"Aubrey."
"What is it, Chloe?" Aubrey inquired dutifully, snapping the cap of her pen back into place and setting her textbook to rest against the coffee table.
Aubrey was pretty familiar with that exasperated tone, and it usually meant that she wouldn't be getting much work done until Chloe had voiced whatever concern she was having, and had been satisfied by Aubrey's response.
"You've been heaving dramatic sighs for an hour, now," Chloe informed pointedly, flicking her thumb over the 'mute' button on the remote to silence the television, "and I know you said that you didn't want to talk about your night, but – "
"The orchestra for my mother's charity dinner fell through," Aubrey interrupted, acquiescing to Chloe's apprehension with another, heavier sigh.
Aubrey had said that she had no interest in discussing her evening at the Posen household, but her problem wasn't exactly disappearing on its own, and stress was coiling into extremely uncomfortable sensations in the pit of her stomach. Although talking things out didn't usually help matters for Aubrey, a fresh perspective often did, and Chloe typically offered an opinion exactly the opposite of Aubrey's.
"The one for breast cancer awareness, right?" Chloe asked, devoting her full attention to Aubrey as she curled her legs beneath her at the opposite end of the couch and shifted to face her friend.
Aubrey nodded tiredly. "Yes," she confirmed. "It's an annual event that my mother's hosted every year since my grandmother passed away, and she always gets very tense when all of her planning starts coming to a head. But the symphony that she booked has been asked to perform at the White House next Friday, instead, which is obviously a much better opportunity for them," Aubrey conceded, raising two fingers to massage against her temple, where a fierce headache was beginning to emerge.
"But why does that have you so stressed?" Chloe frowned. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I know it's probably tough with your mom being so frazzled and everything, but if you freaked out every time someone in your family got worried…? Bree, you'd be a disaster, like, all the time," Chloe said bluntly. "Your family is really good at worrying."
"Thanks," Aubrey replied dryly.
"You know I didn't mean it like that," Chloe recanted softly.
"I know," Aubrey admitted. "And you're right; it normally wouldn't be a big deal for me at all, except that my dad pulled me aside after dinner tonight and asked me if I could help my mother out."
"How?" Chloe queried curiously.
"Since it's so last minute, my parents are both fairly certain that finding another live band isn't going to be possible, so my dad asked me to see if Beca would be available to DJ the event, instead."
"Seriously?" Chloe asked incredulously, as her brows climbed into her hairline.
"Seriously," Aubrey deadpanned. "I guess he was more impressed with our performance at the ICCAs than he led me to believe."
"Well, that's a good thing, right?" Chloe offered optimistically.
"Yes," Aubrey confessed irritably, "and I was pretty proud of myself for a minute there, until I realized that I'd still have to get Beca to actually agree to do it."
"Of course she'll do it," Chloe scoffed dismissively.
"Chloe," Aubrey tried rationally, "black tie events aren't exactly Beca's thing. And even if they were, I don't think it would matter very much, because she definitely won't get to play the kind of music she's used to spinning at The Garage."
"Dancing around in a flight attendant uniform while singing 'I Saw the Sign' isn't exactly Beca's thing, either, and she still did that," Chloe pointed out stubbornly.
"Yes, but she had a reason to do it," Aubrey asserted. "It was supposed to help her get to LA, remember?"
"Yeah, but she'd have a reason to do this, too," Chloe told her.
"And what's that?" Aubrey asked wryly.
"You're going to ask her," Chloe beamed brightly. "That'll be reason enough for Beca."
Despite Chloe's apparent confidence, Aubrey wasn't so sure. She and Beca had forged a tentative (and still developing) friendship during the rush to prepare the set for the ICCA finals back in April, but they weren't exactly what Aubrey would call best friends, despite their frequent communication. Every now and then, a personal tidbit escaped one or the other of them, but the pair would exchange small, appreciative glances when neither probed for further details.
Aubrey would admit that Beca was much more than the alternative, reckless DJ that she had first presumed to know, and she could even admit to being very fond of the new Bellas captain, but she wasn't quite sure that they were on grounds solid enough to justify asking for a favor – particularly a favor as large as this one.
Aubrey had grown accustomed to sitting in on the occasional Bellas rehearsal during Beca's first month as captain. After the activities fair in August, and the subsequent auditions in September, Beca had shyly asked if Aubrey could share her thoughts on her two new recruits, and Aubrey had happily obliged; she'd been reluctant to leave the Bellas, but she was pleased to be offered some form of continued involvement, even if it didn't at all compare to being a consistent member of the group.
Since that first practice, Aubrey meandered toward the familiar rehearsal space after her Environmental Law class every Friday, and she and Beca often made their way to the little coffee shop on Third Street afterward.
This week, Aubrey made sure to let the door close quietly behind her as she slipped into practice, and she took a seat toward the back, hoping not to disturb the vocal exercises that Beca had evidently put Stacie in charge of.
Aubrey quickly spotted Beca in a fold-up metal chair at the front, tinkering with something on her laptop with her ever-present headphones tucked securely over her ears. When Beca frowned and glanced behind her – presumably feeling Aubrey's gaze – Aubrey offered a small smile and a wave. Beca smiled back and set her laptop to the side, tugging the cord of her headphones from the jack and plugging it into her iPod, instead. Beca pulled the headset down to rest around her neck, though, and promptly made her way to the back of the bleachers, dropping into the seat beside Aubrey with a sort of effortless and somehow sloppy grace that Aubrey occasionally envied.
She never understood the fluidity with which Beca moved, but it always intrigued her. Everything the DJ did came off choreographed and easy, despite that Aubrey was well aware that Beca Mitchell was essentially the epitome of spontaneity. The paradox always struck Aubrey, and she often found herself watching the smaller woman as she performed menial tasks.
"What's up, Posen?"
"You know, when I made you captain, I sort of did so under the assumption that you would actually be captaining something," Aubrey replied, opting to forgo a proper greeting.
Beca was never one for propriety, anyway, Aubrey reasoned.
The small brunette rolled her eyes. "I was captaining," she huffed. "And, by the way, is that even a real word?"
"Of course it is," Aubrey scoffed. "I wouldn't use it if it weren't."
"You use a lot of made up words," Beca told her, amusement painting the lines of her face as her brows rose.
"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey demanded, frowning.
"For example," Beca noted casually, offering a smug smirk. "'Aca' isn't actually a real prefix, you know," she teased. "It's not even in English."
"It's part of the vernacular in the acapella world, Beca," Aubrey argued on a laugh. "You're going to have to adjust to it, eventually."
"Oh, I've adjusted," Beca countered playfully, "but that still doesn't make it a real thing."
Aubrey rolled her eyes, but changed the subject, unwilling to admit that Beca might have a point. "Are we on for coffee when you're done not captaining?"
"I am captaining," Beca insisted again, irritably. "And yeah, sure. I've got a shift at the station at nine, but I'm free for a couple hours."
"Great," Aubrey sighed, relieved. She didn't want to have to ask Beca here, but time was swiftly becoming of the essence, and she would have done it if she'd needed to. Her mother's charity dinner was only a week away, and, at this point, she'd be fortunate if Beca was even available that night. "I have something I wanted to talk with you about."
Beca's eyes narrowed contemplatively as her head canted slightly to the left, but she didn't push. "Alright. Yeah. Give me ten minutes and I'll wrap things up here."
"You don't have to rush," Aubrey insisted, shaking her head. "Lisa and Peyton sound like they need as many of those vocal exercises as they can get."
Beca snorted. "Supportive, as usual, Aubrey," she chuckled affectionately. "They're not that bad. They just sound like it in comparison to the rest of us. You spent a good chunk of time whipping us into shape, Posen," Beca reminded. "We listened, and they will, too. They just need some time."
Aubrey internally warmed at the comment. She was well aware of how much work she'd put into training the Bellas the previous year, but it was nice to have it acknowledged – particularly by Beca, who had definitely been the least enthusiastic about her efforts.
"Anyway, I have to finish up down there, but I'll be back in a few. You good here?" Beca asked considerately, lifting herself from the plush seat with a small groan as her arms stretched upward.
Aubrey swept her tongue across her bottom lip with bemusement. She'd long ago accepted that observing Beca was pretty much unavoidable – and she'd concluded that only after noticing that she was definitely not the only one who did so – but she felt a swift jolt of appreciation crash over her as that small noise escaped the brunette's throat, and Aubrey was equally certain that that was maybe not as normal.
"I'm fine," Aubrey nodded, proffering a convincing smile.
"Solid. I'll be back," Beca promised, bounding down the steps until she reached her laptop again.
Aubrey spent a bit of time after Beca's departure mentally preparing a case to present to the brunette, but she gave up pretty quickly. Beca would either help Aubrey or she wouldn't, but the little DJ was very stubborn; if she decided not to help, Aubrey didn't think a persuasive argument would do anything to change her mind.
"Alright, guys," Beca called out a few minutes later, effectively drawing the commotion of the room to a halt as she clicked around the trackpad of her computer. "I'm calling it a day, but, Lisa and Peyton, if you guys could hang around for a second, that'd be awesome."
Aubrey heard Fat Amy call out something about a pizza run, which had the former Bellas captain internally cringing for the diets of the group, but Aubrey held her tongue, and Beca pretended to ignore the comment altogether. Aubrey offered smiles and waves and 'nice job's to all the girls she knew, and curiously watched on to see what Beca had to say to the younger recruits.
"Okay, you're both doing really great," Beca grinned, and the two girls beamed proudly in response. "But I recorded you both during your individual exercises, and I want you to listen to it before practice tomorrow. Is that cool?" The two nodded their eager assents, so Beca continued. "Okay, so the first track is what each of you sound like," she instructed, slipping two USB drives from her computer and offering them to the girls, "and the second track is Stacie, which should give you an idea of where I'd ultimately like for the two of you to be. I know it takes some work, but, seriously, I promise it gets easier."
"Thanks, Beca," Lisa offered, relieved.
"Yeah, thanks, Beca," Peyton echoed. "This'll definitely make it easier to practice at home."
"Good," Beca nodded. "That's the idea. Don't go overboard with it or anything, though; we have time. I just want you to listen to it for now, and tell me what you think you need to do in order to improve, and we'll go from there."
The two girls swiftly agreed and gathered their things, shouting 'bye' to their captain before offering grins to Aubrey as they left.
"That was a really good idea, Beca," Aubrey decided as Beca made her way back toward her with her laptop secured in her backpack and slung casually across her left shoulder.
Beca smirked, and replied with an easy shrug, "I told you I was captaining, didn't I?"
Aubrey rolled her eyes amusedly, but led Beca out to her car. The drive to the coffee shop was short, and filled with soft music from the radio, but Aubrey could feel Beca darting interested glances her way, and she had to take several deep breaths to calm her nerves.
She waited until they'd settled smoothly in a back corner of the café with warm cups of coffee warming their chilled fingers before she broached the subject.
"My mother's having a charity dinner on Friday," Aubrey told Beca finally, sipping at her mocha and warily eyeing the DJ over the rim of her drink.
"That sounds like a blast," Beca replied sarcastically. "What's it for?"
"Breast cancer," Aubrey said.
Beca nodded thoughtfully. "Solid cause, at least."
"My grandmother passed away with breast cancer six years ago, so it's pretty important to my family," Aubrey shared cautiously.
It was true, but Aubrey hoped that it wouldn't hurt her case at all if Beca could appreciate why it was so necessary for this event to play out smoothly.
"I get that," Beca hesitated briefly, peeling at the cardboard sleeve around her cup. "My aunt died from breast cancer two years ago, and that was really tough on me and my mom. She helped us out a lot."
Aubrey was a little surprised that Beca was opting to be this open with her, but, in retrospect, she understood it. Sharing about death wasn't particularly easy for anyone, and Beca was really good about giving what she got, in all aspects of her life. If Aubrey was willing to impart something significant with Beca, then Beca would do the same in return.
"I'm sorry," Aubrey offered weakly.
She felt a bit guilty, because she hadn't actually been that close with her grandmother – but if the downcast look in Beca's eyes was relevant to anything, then Aubrey suspected that Beca had probably been very torn up about her aunt's passing.
"It's okay," Beca shrugged uneasily. "It was a while ago. Is this charity thing why you're so stressed?"
Aubrey lifted her brows. "I've kept it together pretty well, I think."
"Yeah, but you're coiled like a freakin' cobra, Bree," Beca rolled her eyes. "Point for not puking – at least in public – but I'm just saying…" Beca rolled her shoulder sheepishly. "You're pretty tense, is all."
Aubrey sighed and set her cup down on the small table. "Look, I'm going to level with you here, Mitchell; I need to ask you for a favor, and it isn't exactly small."
"Okay," Beca drawled out cautiously. "But I'm not killing anyone for you, Posen."
With a noise caught somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, Aubrey huffed and shook her head. "I can't even react strongly enough to that, so I'm just going to ignore it."
Aubrey had taken to ignoring a lot of those things from Beca in their first weeks as 'friends'; things that had annoyed or angered her in the past. It was easier now that she and Beca were actually on good terms instead of merely pretending to be, but Aubrey remembered a time when that wasn't so. Beca Mitchell had driven her crazy for the majority of the previous year, but sometimes Aubrey struggled to remember why.
Though she did still ignore some things from the DJ, Aubrey found that she didn't need to do it often. Beca's irritating quirks had, somewhere along the line, ceased to be quite so irritating to the blonde. Most times, Aubrey could even find them amusing.
Aubrey just hoped that Beca could scrounge up enough fond feelings for her in return.
"The orchestra cancelled," the blonde sighed out heavily. "They cancelled a few days ago and my parents don't know what to do. My mother is too stressed out to be rational about anything, so as far as she's concerned, this is pretty much the apocalypse."
Beca's eyes squinted, before her mouth scrunched up, then popped open to blurt out, "Okay, seriously, I really don't mean to offend, here, but… dude, is your entire family as tightly wound as you are?" She lofted her brows incredulously.
Scowling, Aubrey replied, "Anxiety can be inherited, Beca."
The brunette cast her hands in the air beside her ears in the universal gesture of surrender, silently mouthing an apology that, if Aubrey had to guess, wasn't even the least bit sincere.
Aubrey rolled her eyes, but troweled onward. "My parents are both doing all that they can, but things like this are booked months in advance."
Beca nodded thoughtfully and rolled her hand through the air, indicating that Aubrey should continue.
"Anyway," Aubrey nervously hesitated, "my dad wanted me to ask if you would be interested in DJing for us."
"Uh… What?" Beca's head reared backward as she set her coffee cup on the table with an echo of noise that seemed somehow terrifying to Aubrey.
"I know it isn't your thing," Aubrey rushed fervently, "and I know I would owe you huge, Beca, but it would really help us out."
"No," Beca blinked absently.
Aubrey felt her cheeks begin to heat with embarrassment, and her stomach muscles begin to contract as an automatic reaction to the rejection.
"Oh. No," Beca frowned. "I mean, no, it isn't really my scene, but yeah, I'll do it. Seriously, though? Your dad asked?"
"Really?" Aubrey gaped, her abdominals releasing so quickly that her stomach felt like it might fall out of her ass altogether. "You will? But – "
"I mean, I won't love it. But if I can help you out, sure," Beca shrugged. Then she furrowed her brows and, after a lingering pause, quietly inquired, "Did you really think I wouldn't, Aubrey?"
Aubrey frowned and observed the soft hint of vulnerability in Beca's eyes for as long as she could before the brunette ducked her gaze back to her coffee cup.
Truthfully, Aubrey hadn't thought much about what Beca would say; she'd mostly only considered how many different ways Beca could tell her 'no.'
"I'm not sure," Aubrey replied honestly. "It's just- my dad's never asked me to do anything like this before. He thinks most of the people I interact with are either slackers or ass-kissers."
"I'm pretty sure your dad would definitely say I fall into the former category," Beca quipped dryly, humming softly as she took a long swallow of her latte.
Aubrey cinched her fingers around her own cup and inhaled sharply, painfully aware of the fact that this now made the second time in a day that Beca had made the most miniature of noises and rendered Aubrey's confused body weak and senseless. She didn't understand why, but it hardly mattered. It was strange and foreign and Aubrey had no idea what to do with it.
"Probably," she rasped with a nod, battling against the semi-queasy feeling swiftly manifesting in her stomach. "But, even still, he was apparently impressed by the set list you put together for the competition last year, and I guess he thinks you're our best shot at keeping this event running smoothly."
"But no pressure," Beca chuckled into her cup, silver-blue eyes shimmering with amusement.
"That phrase means nothing to a Posen, Beca," Aubrey warned slowly. "My father expects a lot – from pretty much everyone, if we're being honest – but especially from his employees. The dinner is in a week, and he'll want to review everything with you before the event. And, again being honest, he probably won't make this easy for you."
Beca laughed and awkwardly reached up to rub her fingers behind her ear. "Aubrey, he's your dad. And again, no offense, but I really wouldn't expect anything less."
"I have mentioned that he was in the military, right?" Aubrey quirked her lips lightly. "Which makes him pretty much ten times whatever terror you thought me to be?"
"Was he a captain, too?" Beca snickered, amused.
Almost reflexively, Aubrey's foot snapped up until the toe of her high heeled shoe playfully nudged the side of Beca's calf.
"Watch it, Mitchell," she chuckled teasingly.