May 24; Present Time
One month, four days, 16 hours and 46 minutes.
It had been that long since Beca last heard from Chloe. Not that she was counting, she was definitely not. She slowly puffed out the breath that she didn't even know she was holding, and looked down at her partly crimson knuckles, and flexed it to test out if the pain subsided. And as it turns out, it didn't, and it probably never will.
She peered to her left, taking in the black wall with cracks, and looked around to see empty bottles of vodka and gin, empty take-home boxes, used clothes and unwashed dishes.
She probably should clean.
Probably.
She sighed and leaned the back of her head against the wall she was sitting against with a slight thud.
The memory of what happened that very day was so fresh to her. She could still hear the distinct shouts and cries of Chloe, and what she hated the most is the fact that she was the one who caused it. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she tried fighting against the exhaustion seeping through her system, but it's no use. She hadn't slept, blinked or moved from where she was, and it had been more than a month. She slowly closed her eyes and replayed what happened that very day.
April 19
"Hey, Beca! Come dance with me!" Chloe shouted, and from the flush of her cheeks and neck, and the light sheen of sweat on her forehead, Beca figured she's drunk.
"You're drunk." The brunette pointed out obviously, blinking up at the woman who adorably jutted out her lower lip, knowing how it affected her best friend.
Damn those ocean blue eyes and adorable pout.
"Am not. I am perfectly sober. Now dance with me! You've been in this booth since the moment we entered the club. Lighten up!" The redhead giggled drunkenly, ungraciously plopping down on the startled DJ's lap.
"Get off of me, you drunk idiot." She grumbled in fake annoyance, trying (and failing) to hide her flustered state. Chloe was too close, way too close. She cannot think properly, let alone speak anything coherent. The smell of the woman's vanilla shampoo and the strawberry chapstick that she never forgets to wear was drowning every ounce of the petite woman's self-control and was effectively washing over her senses.
"No, I'm not standing until you agree to dance with me." Chloe insisted, her warm breath washing over her best friend's face.
"Fine, fine. One dance and then we're off. You're too drunk."
Chloe giggled, standing up from her position on Beca's lap and turns to look at her. "Eager to take me home, aren't you?" She teased, laughing as Beca's ears went redder than a tomato's. The DJ flipped her off, but she was still pulled on the dance floor. As if fate was playing with them, the motown beat was replaced with a slow one.
Chloe wrapped her arms around the brunette's neck, fingers lightly brushing the hairs at her nape. Beca visibly shuddered and tensed. The redhead chuckled lightly and hovered her mouth on her best friend's ear. "Lighten up. It's just me."
Beca internally rolled her eyes.
Yeah, just you. The woman I've been helplessly in love with for 9 years. Yup, just you.
She took Beca's hands and wrapped it around her waist, and placed her hands back to its original position.
Beca was drunk. No, she didn't drink anything aside from that shot of gin and tonic that Chloe forcefully gave her. She was drunk of the said redhead. They were too close, Chloe was too touchy, and Beca thought that she might combust from the unbearable proximity, not being one with physical affection.
But when Chloe placed a kiss on her jaw and pulled back to nuzzle their noses, all those doubts and negative thoughts dissipated. All the tension left the brunette's body and it amazed her, how well Chloe knows her.
Everything was perfect. Beca pretended that they were together, even just for that night. She pretended as if it didn't ache to know that Chloe's probably going to forget everything in the morning. She pretended as if they had a chance, knowing full well that they don't.
Because —
"Hey babe!" A man shouted, and they both jumped at the sudden intrusion, and when Beca looked at the direction of the sound, her stomach unpleasantly churned.
It's him.
It's Tom.
The reason why she can't be with Chloe. She internally punched herself for not remembering. How could she forget?
The brunette cleared her throat uncomfortably and blinked several times, and reluctantly watched Chloe direct a wide smile towards Tom, and watched as she confidently strode to his direction and kissed him like her life depended on it.
Tom kissed back just as hard, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her in place, just as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
To say that Beca was fuming with anger and jealousy is an understatement. She was fucking enraged, even though she knows she has no right to be.
She sharply sucked in a breath to stop herself from doing something that she might regret, and blinked her
eyes as the pair pulled away, but was still in a lover's embrace. She watched Chloe look at Tom like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and mourned over the fact that the pair looked so perfect together.
The lovers exchanged a few words and Beca suspected that Tom probably joked about something since Chloe laughed wholeheartedly, her head tilted back as Tom watched her adoringly.
And Beca did too
Because Chloe is beautiful.
She has fucking eyes, she knows how attractive Chloe is. In their almost 9 years of friendship, the redhead had a line of suitors longer than the Nile river, and Beca, somewhere along the way, realised that she wants to be a part of that line too.
But Chloe declined each of them, choosing Tom over everyone else.
It's not that Beca hates Tom or whatever, but she thinks that Chloe deserves — more?
Chloe deserves a person who she's going to come back home to from her long and draining days at the vet. A person who she can just think of, but the clouds dimming her days will be replaced with eternal sunshine. She deserves a person who'd go to the ends of the earth for her. She deserves a person who'd make her a cup of tea every morning because it soothes her throat. She deserves a person who'd run to her favourite coffee shop, two kilometres away from the apartment, enduring a two-hour long wait just to get her her favourite blueberry bagel and a cup of freshly brewed coffee. She deserves a person who's going to make mixes and mash-ups of her favourite songs every other day, just so she can listen to it on the way to work, during work and coming home from work.
And sometimes, Beca can't help but think about what could've happened if she had the courage to tell Chloe what she felt when the opportunities were blatantly there.
When Chloe was there.
Without Tom.
Without her boyfriend.
Beca can list the things Chloe deserves, but the world will be too small to contain the list, because Chloe deserves the whole fucking galaxy.
The brunette's train of thought was disturbed when she heard, more than saw, the sickeningly perfect pair walk towards her, big and goofy smiles on their faces, lips slightly swollen from the long kisses traded.
"Hey Beca! It's been quite some time. How are you?" Tom inquired as he wrapped his arms around the woman's waist from behind, Chloe instinctively leaning back to his embrace, both hands resting on her man's hands.
"I'm fine." Beca answered, albeit harshly. Chloe furrowed her brows and a small pout graced her face.
"Are you alright, Becs?" She asked, her head tilting to the side slightly.
If there's one thing that Beca's certain, it's that this woman will be the death of her.
She nodded wordlessly in response, softening a little at the redhead's concerned look and nickname.
The redhead was about to ask again because clearly, there's something wrong, but her boyfriend began to pull her away, saying something about free drinks for couples.
She looked back at Beca apologetically as she was being pulled, but the DJ forced a smile and nodded once.
Beca was fucked.
The night couldn't go any slower. The petite brunette is currently in her 7th shot of seven spirits on the rocks, and she feels lightheaded.
"One more." She slurs drunkenly, heavily leaning her body against the counter.
"No more for you, kiddo." The bartender retorted with a concerned look on his face.
"Come on, just one more. You're supposed to serve your customers, now go make me one." She insisted, heavily blinking because everything was blurry, and every beat drop blaring through the club's speaker is in line with the thumping of her heart.
"No. We have the right to deny some requests, specially if it's concerned with the well being of our customers." The bartender replied.
"Fuck your service!" She angrily shouted, slamming her fists against the cold marble countertop, which garnered the attention of nearby customers.
She shakily inhaled to calm her nerves and looked at the dance floor.
She wished she didn't.
Chloe was dancing with her boyfriend, eyes sparkling like the ocean at midday.
Boyfriend.
The thought made her clench her jaw, and the seven shots of the seven spirits got the best of her.
Without really thinking (because fuck was she drunk), she strode towards the pair's direction and yanked the woman that she loves off of her lover.
Chloe looked at her with wide and confused eyes, but she didn't care. Beca's eyes were stone cold and her mind was blank as she punched Tom's nose, jaw, and held him by his collar to throw him on the ground.
She could hear Chloe begging her to stop, could feel her forceful tug on the brunette's arm, but she chose to ignore it.
Because she's a Mitchell, she's good at ignoring things and situations that are blatantly there.
She straddled Tom and blew heavy punches on his face, jaw clenched and the blood in her veins boiling.
"Fuck you. If you didn't come along, everything would've been okay, everything would've been better!" She yelled angrily, each punctuation expressed with a hard punch.
Her knuckles were throbbing, and Tom looks extremely fucked, as if that could stop her from proceeding. Chloe was still tugging her shirt and was still sobbing loudly, but she didn't care.
Because she was so damn good at it.
Guess she'll have to thank — or curse? — her father later.
Soon, the bouncers came and carried her off of Tom's body, and she tried to break free from their grasp.
"Let go of me, you fucking thwarts!" She shouted angrily, squirming from their hold.
But everything suddenly slowed down when her eyes met light blue ones.
Suddenly, she was grounded. She was sobered up.
Anger and fear swam through the light blue orbs, and Chloe's gaze pierced through her soul. She despised himself for causing that, because the look that the redhead was sporting? It was rare, rarer than astatine.
Chloe walked to the bouncers holding Beca and whispered something the brunette didn't quite discern, but they nodded and let go of their grip on her. They immediately came to aid Tom and ushered the customers inside the club to scurry off of the scene.
"We have to talk." The redhead started without looking at her, and with an unusual stoic expression. Beca wasn't given a chance to respond as she followed the woman who power-walked through the crowd, ascended the stairs, and opened the door leading to the rooftop.
The DJ exhaled as she breathed in the cold breeze which gave her a sense of calmness, and she closed the metal door behind her. Chloe was leaning on the rail with the both of her forearms, watching the busy streets of Los Angeles from the skyline.
Despite their state, Chloe had never looked more beautiful.
With the city lights illuminating her red, fiery mane, and with her eyes sparkling as she peered over the busy streets, Beca fell a little deeper.
How could the not?
It was Chloe.
It's always been Chloe.
So she stared at the redhead, and they stood there in silence. Minds whirring and hearts thudding.
Not one for awkward silence, because they're Beca and Chloe for God's sake, they never do awkward, the brunette broke it.
"I'm sorry."
Silence.
"I was drunk and I didn't mean to do it, my mind was hazed and I didn't think about —"
She was cut off when stormy, ocean blue eyes met hers.
"You're sorry? Beca, this is the third time you beat up a man in a club! You've been blacklisted from those clubs and I'm surprised you aren't behind bars right now!" She let out, her collected facade slowly breaking.
The brunette sighed in defeat and looked at her feet. Chloe was right. It was her third time, and it's because of the same reason:
Jealousy.
Fucking human emotions.
"Why'd you do it?" She asked quietly, and Beca looked up to see tears brimming in her eyes.
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
What was she supposed to say?
"Tell me why, or this will be the last time that we'll talk." Chloe added in an angry whisper, swallowing to choke down the sobs struggling to break free.
Silence.
"Tell me, Beca! Because I can't unders—"
She lost it because she can't understand herself too.
"Because I love you so fucking much it aches everyday of my life to see you happy with someone else! To see you happy without me! It fucking hurts! Everyday, I wake up with you as my first thought and I sleep with you as my last! It fucking hurts because I'm right here but you just keep on looking somewhere else! It fucking aches to the point of physical pain, Chloe!" The brunette shouted in a devastatingly enraged tone.
"Do you think it's easy for me to push down the feelings that I'm having for you since the Activities Fair at Barden? Do you think it was easy for me to keep my feelings in check when you were still with Jesse? Do you think it was easy for me to not punch Theo or every guy in this matter, who tried but failed to flirt with you, or to charm you? It's not, Beca! I've loved you since the very day I met you, no, not loved, I love you since the very day that I met you! But we can't be together!" She yelled back just as intense, closing her eyes as tears finally made its way down her cheeks.
"Why not?" The DJ brokenly whispered, stood frozen in place as the tears that she had been holding back bursted out.
She never thought two words could change her world forever.
"I'm engaged."
Beca's eyes widened comically, breath held as she blinked to make sure she heard it correctly.
"Tom proposed over a year ago. I'm getting married on the 19th of May." She whispered sadly, slowly walking towards Beca.
"And you said yes." It wasn't a question. It was a statement that the brunette still couldn't believe.
Chloe was engaged.
And Beca's not the one who slipped the ring on her finger.
Beca was always late during Barden, and until now, really. Always late during rehearsals, always late in her classes, always late during meetings and always late to work.
"I'm too late, aren't I?" She asked rhetorically, because why the fuck was she always late in everything?
Chloe responded with a watery smile, closing the distance between them as she tightly wrapped her arms around the brunette's midsection, taking in the familiar honeysuckle scent.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Beca whispered brokenly as she wrapped her arms around the older woman's shoulders, savoring their embrace and inhaling the familiar vanilla scent, finding her needed solace in it.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to tell you." Chloe explained, her warm breath hitting Beca's neck.
They cried and held each other tightly for what seemed to be hours before the redhead pulled back to release a watery and bitter laugh.
"We're idiots. We should've acted upon our feelings years ago." She commented sadly, eyes cast on her heels.
"We are, and we should've." The DJ affirmed, looking at her intently.
After a few beats of silence, Beca prepared herself for the inevitable.
"I'm sorry." Chloe replied and exhaled as she slowly walked to the door, and looked back to meet the brunette's eyes once again.
Beca nodded.
The redhead seemed hesitant, but the petite woman smiled brokenly and mouthed "Go on."
Chloe flashed the woman that she dearly loves the best smile that she could muster, but there was no use in pretending.
"I love you." The redhead mouthed as tears freely fell and she walked out of the door, closing it with a 'click'.
Beca stared at the door and mouthed her response sadly, tears freely falling down her cheeks.
"I love you too."
That's reality. She has to go back to Tom and Beca has to train herself to live a life without her.
She understands, really.
She understands that Chloe needs to do this, she didn't know what Beca felt after all.
But this was so painful. Her heart ached and her entirety was tired.
If only they communicated years ago, it could've been her getting down on one knee to ask for the hand of the woman that she loves.
It could've been her who'd prepare for the wedding with her bride.
It could've been her who'd wake up everyday to bare shoulders with freckles and red hair, with the privilege and blessing to call Chloe her 'wife'.
She could've been the mother to little Chloes and little Becas running around their house, away from the urban.
It could've been her.
Except, it isn't.
And it will never be.
She did the breathing techniques Aubrey taught her at Barden, but surprisingly, for the first time, it didn't work.
She thought of those days when Chloe attempted to cheer her up, and didn't fail to do so.
Beca was banging her head on her desk at 3 AM. The headphones that the redhead gave her for her birthday hanging loosely around her neck. She was sitting down for almost two days, but her mind wasn't cooperating. Her boss sent back her latest demo, saying that it 'lacks something vital', and Beca swore that she could fucking kill. She barely slept and barely touched the cup of freshly brewed black coffee that Chloe made her. She thought of how Chloe woke up from her slumber and sauntered off of bed to wrap her arms around the brunette's shoulders as she plants a soft kiss on the side of her neck and on top of her head, telling her to go to sleep. Beca reluctantly agreed.
Those were her favourite nights. When Chloe does the effort of waking up in the middle of the night to lull her back to sleep because she hadn't had any.
Who was she kidding?
Of course those are her favourites.
Chloe is her favourite, after all.
After calming herself, she begrudgingly walked back inside the club, using the fire exit as her escape.
She walked along the rough pavement, knuckles still throbbing and bleeding. But she didn't care.
She was so fucking exhausted, and the world was so fucking unfair.
Not long after, she reached her apartment and opened the door. She immediately went to her bedroom and silently went under the covers, her cat hot on her heels. She felt Midi curl up beside her, and fell asleep, but it was a broken one at best.
Her sheets still smell like Chloe, even though she hadn't come over in a week.
April 31
Two days after the incident, she did nothing but lean on her apartment's lounge's wall and silently cry and head back to bed to stare at the ceiling.
She was incomplete before Chloe found her.
She's incomplete without Chloe.
She wonders when she'll be whole again.
Aubrey and the Bellas attempted to visit her, but she shut them out because she couldn't deal with anyone that's not Chloe.
And she's good at shutting people out.
Like what she told her dad, it's easier.
May 19
After three hours of alternating between crying and staring, her phone chimed.
She begrudgingly reached over her bedside table to read the message, and saw that it was from Stacie.
When she thought that she couldn't be more broken, more incomplete, she was mistaken.
Two words, once again, broke her even more.
"She's married."
May 24
She opened her eyes and looked around her apartment. Chloe was still everywhere. Her laughter echoes around the walls, her scent still lingers on Beca's oversized hoodies that she kept on stealing, and her scent cannot be removed from their — her — bed, and some of her things were left on the DJ's place.
One month, four days , 17 hours and 14 minutes.
She knows she should probably stop counting.
After all, Chloe won't be coming home to her anymore.