Disclaimer- Dammit, you figured out my secret identity! I am the screen writer for Pitch Perfect! How did you know!? Just kidding, I own nothing. Don't rub it in.

"Chloe!" I turn at the sound of my name. Crap. Tom. He gets closer. I start to walk away. Then I try to run. Key word- try. Damn heels. I feel his hand on my arm and his eyes on my ass. I sigh and turn. He removes his hand, but his eyes stay about 8 inches south of mine.

"Yes, Tom, can I help you with something?" I ask impatiently.

"Yeah, why aren't you answering any of my calls? Or texts? And why are you generally ignoring me?"

"Tom, I told you, we're broken up! Me. You. Over! Got it? Now, I have to get to Bellas practice. Goodbye!" He looks confused and taken aback by my tone, but then he gets angry. He grabs my wrist, and drags me to stand behind the corner of a school building. I try to break his grip, but he is just too strong. Why did I have to date the quarterback? I start to go through my pockets with my free hand. I swear, the 1 day I didn't have my rape whistle (A/N~ don't worry, it's not that kind of story... Yet). I struggle against him. "What do you want, Tom? We're over!"

"No, we're not over until I say we're over!" 1 guess why I broke up with him. He pushes his face close to mine, and grabs my other wrist, pinning me up against the building.

Then I hear a voice.

"Hey, lay off her!" Tom is pulled off me. Then I hear a grunt and something heavy dropping.

I turn to my rescuer. The person I most wanted to see, and the person I least wanted to see at the same time. Beca "badass" Mitchell, my... I want to say friend, but I'm not sure if that's all she is to me. It hurts when I'm with her, but it hurts when I'm not with her, too. She walks into a room and I find myself incredibly nervous but incredibly happy at the same time. Whenever I talk to her, I say so many stupid things, I swear, I almost pass out from the amount of blood rushing to my head.

"Chloe? You okay?" Beca asks, helping me up.

"Yeah, Becs, I'm fine." Then I see Tom on the ground, holding his nose. "What'd you do to him?"

"I may or may not have punched him." She grins.

"So you punched him." I laugh.

"Yeah."

"Thanks." She takes a step closer.

"Not as bad as he deserved, though." She kicks him in the junk. Ouch. He immediately moves his hands to his newest injury. "C'mon, let's go to practice." She says. We walk hand in hand to the auditorium. It's a long walk. After about 10 minutes, she speaks. "Gonna tell me what happened back there?"

"Ex with anger issues." She nods, as if to say been there before. Of course she has, she's Beca Mitchell. Guys are practically falling over themselves to get so much as a date with her. And why wouldn't they? She's got a beautiful personality, she's a hot-shot in the a capella world, the best singer on campus, not to mention that she's really hot. I guess I zoned out, because she puts a hand on my arm to get me to face her. I flinch when she touches the newly formed bruise, courtesy of Tom.

She notices my flinch. "Chlo, he didn't hurt you, did he? I'm gonna kill him." She turns back the way we came, and I put a hand out to stop her. "Let me go! I'm gonna kill him!" I've never seen her this angry. Never mind Tom, if Beca goes back, she'll be the one in the body bag.

"Beca, stop. Think. Have you never seen Easy A? No, of course you haven't. But if that movie taught me anything, it's that you can't trust the rumour mill. If you go back there, not only will you be up against the now very pissed off school quarterback, but by now, he would have spread around his version of the story which probably involves me in his position, and you sneaking up on him and beating him up because you were jealous of our relationship." I said the word with distaste. "By now, you'll at the very least be facing the entire football team. Let's just go to practice. I'll be fine."

She was silent for a long time. What was she thinking? She sighed, and I knew I had won.

"You're right. Let's go to practice."

"Hey, you'll always be my little knight in shining armour."

"Hey, less of the little. I just kicked the quarterbacks ass!"

"Yeah, and you're only this big!" I ruffle her hair, knowing she hates it when I do that.

"Oh, that's it. Start running, Beale."

"No fair, I'm in heels!" I shriek as Beca chases me. She tackles me and we land in a very awkward position. Me lying face up, with her on top of me, and her arms wrapped around my waist. Our faces are inches apart. Not gonna lie, I'm tempted to kiss her. She realises our position and quickly gets up.

"Let's go to practice." She mutters, offering me a hand up, which I accept. We walk the rest of the way in silence.