Another fic inspired by a song. Starving by Hailee Steinfeld.
Enjoy. Thank you for reading.
I don't own Pitch Perfect.
I'm starving.
Go eat something. It's a simple equation, Mitchell. You're starving, you eat. Geez..
I roll my eyes.
Thank you for mentioning the obvious, brain. But you should know that I don't mean that kind of starving.
Of course I know. Why do you think I deflected? Because you shouldn't be starving of her. You know it. And I know it better.
I roll my eyes again.
People, let me introduce the italic words. My brain. Talking to me. Being amazingly unnecessary. Giving un-useful comments about my life. But still, my brain. So say hello brain.
Hello people.
Good.
I sigh and stare at you. Yeah. You. We just won our first World Championship. We, The Bellas, are celebrating in a club right now. And now you are dancing on the dancing floor with Aubrey.
While me?
I'll just sit by the bar with tequila shot in my hand. Not creepily staring at you, obviously.
Yea you are. And stop it. You look stupid.
See? Unnecessary comments. Ignore him.
Such a good example of failing to ignore me Mitchell. You set up a very high level of failing. Just as usual.
"Ugh." I grunt.
"Are you talking to yourself again, Capt.?" Stacie asks with a knowing smile.
"Nope." I say with bored tone. My eyes are still on you, who are moving so, so fluidly, it evokes something in me. I throw my head back and gulp the tequila before I add, "Not at all."
Yea you are. With that dumb struck look on your face.
"Shut up brain." I say. Forget to keep it to myself.
"Yep." Stacie responds with a tight smile. "You are. And you are staring at Chloe in a way that if you have a penis, she'd be pregnant by now."
I scoff and say, "Am not. Staring."
"You so are, Capt." Stacie says again.
Yea you are. Still with that dumb look on your face.
I roll my eyes.
Shut up, brain.
"Go get her already." Stacie says in half scolding. "I'm getting horny just by looking at you staring at her."
I scrunch my face in disgust then opt to walk away.
She was right you know. You were staring. Not for that reason, obviously.
Brain, stop it. It's just... she makes me feel something. And have been in the last four years. That's all.
I know. Why do you think I keep telling you to stay away from her? You're not good with people dude. And you don't want her to hate you. Because she will. If you don't back off.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
I need some air.
You can't run away from me.
I just need some air.
Just go to the balcony.
So I do. I walk to the balcony, resting my elbows on the railings. The wind feels so good on my face, and I just close my eyes to let it cool me down.
And it might not be such a good idea because your figure flows into my mind.
Your smile. Your blue, blue eyes. Your radiant red hair. Your laughter and the sound of it. Your rosy cheeks. Your hands, in mine. Your legs. Your...
You are going to the dangerous area now... You know it's not good for you. She's not good for you. No. You're not good for her.
I huff.
See? I have an anxiety. I have it since a long time ago. This... anxiety comes with a constant reminder from a part of my brain. So, for my whole life, I've never experienced a complete peace of mind.
And it's okay. I've learnt to live with it.
You better.
Shut up.
Back again to my anxiety. For that, I have no friends until college. It was hard to be around people, let alone to keep them around, when your mind keep implying negative thoughts about yourself and other people.
But then I came to Barden and found The Bellas. Because of you.
And I admit, they are fine. They simply make a joke out of it, so I can deal with it easier. And I'm thankful for them. And you.
Anyhow, still, there are moments, like this one, when it all becomes too unbearable. So I pull out a cig and light it up. I don't do it often. Just whenever I really need to tone down my nerves. And the thing about smoking is, when you really need it, you will feel slightly safer only by holding it in your fingers.
Usually I just mix. But I can't mix at a club. Unless I am the DJ. And unfortunately, I'm just a customer tonight.
The first blow put down a huge chunk of my nerves. Not all of it. But it shut my anxious brain for a while. It's an easy fix, but not a solution. So I don't make a habit out of it. But damn it, if it doesn't feel good to have a slightly less fussy mind. Even only for a moment.
So I keep on smoking. Absentmindedly. While my eyes are on the city lights.
I've been told to get some help to ease the anxiety. Cure it even. But the problem is, I've befriended my anxiety. It's a part of me that I want to hold on to. To keep me in line. To shelter me from the possibility of being hurt in this wide unfair world.
I need it. I want it. I need and want to keep it.
But you? You know just what to say. To evoke something in me. Every, fucking, time.
"Help us turn our dreams into a reality?" You said with pleading eyes. I remember how my hand flinched just a little bit before I hurriedly responded nonchalantly and walked away.
That was the first sign.
"See you at audition." You said cheerfully in a bathroom stall.
And that was the second sign.
It scared me. Still do. How easily you pull me out of my bubble. My safe protected wall. Just by the words you said. It really scares me.
And the day we sang together in the bathroom stall? Damn it, was I horrified.
At that moment, I knew I should've just walked away. But I couldn't move my feet. Beside the obvious reason that I was naked. And cornered. In a bathroom stall. By you. A very naked you.
So I couldn't have done anything to escape. Unless I was willing to sing with you. Just to get my safety net back. And I sang. With you. A very naked you.
And I was damned! I felt so much older than the day before I sang with you. Heck, I even felt much older than the time I walked into that bathroom. Because nothing like that ever happened to me before.
Even though it certainly scared the life out of me, apparently, singing with you give me these... particular feelings. And I didn't know what. Or why. Or how.
Your singing voice somehow... eased me. I remember it clearly how my guarded demeanor changed. Slowly. From closed off into slightly open only by singing a couple of lines with you.
You... changed me. Somehow.
You evoked something in me. Something... unusual, and, strange, and weird, yet... good? I think. All at the same time.
And even up until now, I still haven't figure out what those feelings are.
But one thing I know for sure. It makes me want more. Every fucking time. Always.
I'm starving and craving for those feelings.
And the feeling, this starving that I have over you, it was the major drive that made me auditioned for The Bella. Not my father's offer even though I keep telling that to all of you. The offer helped. But not the main reason.
So I stayed. For years. Trying to figure out those feelings you put inside me.
Here is the most difficult part. You seemed to have this... some kind of attention on me. Still do. Not overwhelming or overbearing. From your side at least. I think. But still scare the crap out of me. Because being cautious and scared are my forte. My number one talent.
But I can't stop this... need. This... craving. For you. I needed to find out what those feelings are. Because, again, I didn't know I had these kind of feelings until I met you. I'm starving for what you can bring into me.
And the more I know you, the more I want... you? You're like a drug for me. I know that it's bad, but I just can't stop. And sometimes, I think I don't want to. Stop craving for you.
Before I figure it all out, here I am. A captain of an Acapella group for four years. A college graduate, with decent GPA, and a pretty good job.
All happened only because I'm trying to have the same experience I had when I'm singing with you. In a bathroom stall.
And she was naked. And you liked naked her. Still do. And again, it's not good for you.
Really?
Yep. She's done nothing but pulling you out from your safety bubble. You wanted to go to L.A. remember? It's three years too late for that now.
No. I mean the I like her part. I uh... Really? Do I like her? Really?
No Mitchell. Feeling this kind of thing to someone will bring no good to you. You'll be crushed. You have to stop this craving. Stay away from her. She makes you feel unsafe. Besides, you are a damage good. Just keep it to yourself.
Okay brain. Got it.
My anxious brain is talking again. Meaning my first cig is gone. And I need more nicotine to shut it out. Just for a moment. I need to think about what he just said.
I light another one and blow slowly before inhaling it back from my nose. Damn, it feels good.
Not as good as singing with you. But it will do the trick. For now.
My lips are busy with the cig, but my mind is on you.
We'll be going on our separate ways soon. And now I'm scared for that to happen. What if the craving don't go away, even after I'm away from you? I'd be starving. What's my fix then?
I blow out a long smoky breath out.
"You're smoking again Becs." I hear your soft voice from behind.
Only by your presence, I'm frozen up. My body just stop working. Other than this swirling sensation in my stomach, I'm petrified.
It's ridiculous. I'm at ease when I sing with you. But talking to you? It's a whole different story. It gives me this... swirling sensation in my stomach. And now it's finding its way out through my lungs and trachea.
Yep. I choke on my own breath. Smoke to be exact. Because I am smoking. And apparently choking now.
I can feel your hand on my back, trying to soothe me. My cig just slide down from my fingers.
There is this warm electrical sensation, spreading from the area you touch to all over my body.
And damn it! I am hit with everything all at once.
My heart is pounding. I'm weak on my knees. And it doesn't help at all when I feel the ground shakes under my feet like there's an earthquakes. It's a disaster!
Damn it, Mitchell! Pull yourself together!
Just pull back. Move aside. Breathe...
Okay. Okay. Just pull back and move aside. Got it.
And I follow my anxious brain. I take a step away from you, and I can breathe again.
See? That's why I keep my anxious brain around. That's why I need him. He keeps me in line. He keeps me safe. He keeps me alive.
Damn right I am. Unlike her.
Unlike you. You always- No. Not you. Your presence. Your... existence push me out of my line. My safety net. I am beyond uncomfortable.
The strange thing is, you seem to know that I need my space, because you take a step back.
And I can breathe easier.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't act like this, or even be like this with anybody else. I can be around other people, I mean The Bellas, easily. Hell, I was even the first one to hug Aubrey happily at the retreat.
But with you? I become this... catatonic mess. I'm completely stunned. My whole system just shut down when you show up unannounced.
Except for the anxious part of my brain. So I hold it dearly close to me. Again, to keep me safe. From you. From the massive impact you have on me. To remind me to keep breathing.
People don't see this. They usually see how easy I am to be around you. They don't know that I have to prepare myself to see you. I have to know beforehand if I'm going to see you.
That is the only way I can act casual around you. Because I've done my preparation. A lot of extreme precautions just so I can talk to you, touch you, look at you like any other normal human being.
Except for my face. I usually put on my scowled face. I rarely smile to or at you. It's not that I don't want to. I can't.
The only time I can look you in the eye is when we're singing. In the bathroom stall, at the audition, at the pool, on the stage. Just every place that require us to sing.
But I can't have you come to me so suddenly. I will have a heart attack. Like this. And the only other person that have this kind of effect on me is Kommissar. But not half as bad. Not at all.
When she's around, I would only become a bumbling mess. But not this... unresponsive stunted rock.
She's staring at you.
Shit!
Breathe and talk Mitchell. Breathe and talk.
I take a really deep breath slowly, put on a smile, and say, "Chloe. You scared me."
"Indeed." You say with raised eyebrows. "Sorry about that."
"It's uh... okay." I say while nodding my head absentmindedly and my hands are shaking, trying to reach my cig. I need the cig now. I need to calm my nerves.
Breath... It's in your left pocket.
Right. Right.
Just as I raise my lighter to light my cig, you put your hand on mine and push it down gently. But I pull my hand back in flash. And I drop my lighter.
"So-Sorry." I stammer quickly as I bend down to pick it up.
I can feel your eyes on me. But I don't dare to look at you. And I just take a couple of steps back to the railings, lean on my elbows again before I light my cig again.
The first puff feels so damn good. Great even.
By the corner of my eyes, I can feel your presence, standing an arm length away from me. I blow out the smoke and ask, "Why aren't you dancing inside?"
"Why are you smoking outside?" You ask back.
"Because it's not allowed to smoke inside?" I retort.
You simply scoff.
Okay.
Smart Mitchell. Very Rich. A college graduate quality of answer.
Oh shut up, brain. I'm smoking. Get out!
I kind of expect you to go back inside once I'm starting to smoke again. Instead, you pull the cig out of my lips, throw it away, and say, "I don't like it when you smoke."
It took me by surprise, and before I know it, I blurt out in upset, "It's a good thing that how you feel about me doesn't matter to me."
You are taken aback. So it's not a surprise at all when you turn around and walk away.
Nice. Way to go, champ! Now she hates you. You're doing good. That's what I'm talking about.
Shut up brain.
Now I feel bad. Because you've done nothing but being nice to me. So I call out, "Chloe. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"Yeah. You did." You say as you turn back around to me. You sound and look angry now.
I simply blow out a long ragged breath. My cig is being forgotten by now. I swallow hard, trying to compose a sentence. A decent one.
Think, Mitchell. Think. Faster. Faster. Fas-
"Why are you doing this to me?" You cut my train of thought. And I can hear not only anger, but also hurt in your voice.
I'm holding my breath under my nose as I stutter, "I uh... I uhm..." I swallow hard, and add, "It's uhm..."
"You seem to be okay with the others." You say again. A little bit louder this time. "You can even be nice to Bree. Did I do something wrong to you?"
I press my lips tightly, rocking my body back and forth anxiously. Still not breathing. This is it. This is the way I die.
Breathe dude! Open up your mouth and inhale!
I do as my brain says. I close my eyes, opening my mouth slightly and inhale. Slowly. And I count my breath in my mind.
In two three... Out two three four five...
In two three... Out two three four five...
In two three... Out two three four five...
Then, still with my eyes closed, I say with shaky breath, "You've never done anything wrong to me. But uh... something about you do something to me. And I uhm... I don't know what. Or why. Or how. But I'm sorry for treating you badly. I honestly didn't mean to. So uh... No. You did nothing wrong to me. Again uh... sorry."
Breathe...
In two three... Out two three four five...
In two three... Out two three four five...
In two three... Out two three four five...
Okay. Nicely done. Now open your eyes and walk away. You're moving out from The Bella's house in a week and you don't need to see her again.
Right. Open my eyes and walk away. Open my eyes and walk away.
It's for the best dude. You know it. I know it better. You'll do nothing good for yourself to keep this... weird feeling you call starving.
Right. I know. I know. I'm walking away, brain. I am.
Yet I don't move. I just keep standing there. With my eyes on your feet. Your feet. Because that's the furthest I can put my eyes on you in this kind of situation. And I can see them coming closer. Step by step.
Walk away!
I hear you, brain. I do.
Then walk the fuck away!
I swallow hard. Real hard. I hear my brain's screaming. Heard. But I don't listen. I'm nailed to the floor. Can't even move a toe.
She's coming! She's fucking coming! You better move your ass right fucking now!
I try to lift my right foot. I know it's too late, but still, I try. Just not fast enough.
She's breaking your bubble! Step back, Mitchell! Ste-
And suddenly everything just become quiet. Really, really quiet. With your lips on mine. Yet I don't move a muscle. I just keep standing there stiffly, with my eyes wide open.
Then it's over. In a matter of seconds. You pull back. And I'm still frozen up. Taken aback. Stunned. Not by the kiss. But by the feelings.
"So sorry Becs." You say hurriedly. "I can't help myself... I- I have been thinking about doing it for a very long time."
I'm still on the very same position. Your voice comes in an echo. I can still feel the uh... quietness your action brought into my mind. It was... is... new. And... quiet. The kind of quiet that I've never experienced before. Just so... calm? I think.
Then slowly, I can hear your voice become clear in my head.
"Becs... please say something." I can hear pleading in it. "I'm so, sorry Becs. Don't... don't shut me out. I won't do it again. I promise. Just tell me that you're okay. I need to know that you're o-"
"Can we uh... do it again?" I cut you off with my eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. And a lot curious. "I have to uh... see something. I need to... check. Something."
What the fuck are you doing, Mitchell?!
Just shut up brain. Let me handle this.
You just look at me in confusion. But you nod nevertheless. When you lean forward, I raise one hand to stop you.
"Can you uh... please just stand still? Right where you are?" I ask.
You are again, taken aback. So I add, "Let me uh... come to you. I uhm... I need to see something. To test something out."
Are you fucking crazy?!
Brain! Shut up!
You sigh. And I think it's a relieved sigh. Then you nod again. I take a very long steady breath before I lean slowly forward.
Don't you dare! You better not! Are you out of your fucking mind?! Get the fuck out of he-
Then my lips meet yours. And I can feel the same quietness. So, so quiet. And... just quiet. Everything else just... disappear. And I can't help but close my eyes. Because it's... quiet. And there's no tension.
My body just do everything automatically. My left hand find the back of your neck and pull you closer. My right hand on your waist to keep us steady. My lips just move slowly, gently, bringing your lips in between mine. Our lips just... move in sync.
I can feel warmth on my cheeks, spreading slowly because you have put your hands on them. And it still feel as quiet as before. As calm. As... peaceful?
For the first time that I can ever remember, there is nothing else in my mind but the thing I'm doing. Your lips. On mine. Moving together.
And then we pull away from each other. No cue. No signal. Just naturally pulling away from each other. I take a few deep breaths, savoring the feeling, this feeling, with my eyes closed. Surprisingly, I can feel a smile on my face. A light one. I feel light.
After a while, I hear you softly say, "Becs?"
I take another deep breath, open my eyes, and say, "I'm relaxed."
You just stare at me in confusion.
"I'm... relaxed." I say again. I finally know. "I'm calm. The thing we did... it makes me calm."
"You mean the kiss?" You ask curiously. But I can see a hint of smile on your face. It must have been funny for you that I can't even say the word kiss.
"Yeah. That. The kiss." I say. Still feeling the smile on my face. It only grows wider. Slowly. Fondly.
You grin from ear to ear and say, "It was amazing. And wonderful. I don't know about you, but I felt some kind of fireworks blowing in my chest. Still do."
I chuckle. Seeing your smile and how joyful you're talking about the kiss makes me feel warm. And it feels... good. So I calmly say, "I felt... fine."
Then your smile faltered. But I keep my smile on and calmly say, "I was never fine, Chlo. I'm a constant worrier. Everything worry me. I'm constantly over the edge. My mind never rest. Ever. But kissing you... my brain just went quiet. Real quiet. And it was calming. And I don't have the word to describe it. But maybe... peaceful? Content? Full? I don't know. So yeah. I felt- No. I feel... fine. I still feel fine. I am fine Chloe. You know what I'm saying right?"
And you chuckle. I think it's in relief.
"I know what you're saying, Becs." You say. "I was a worrier too. I was bulimic in high school. All because I think too much. My brain never rest."
"And you're okay now." I say calmly as a statement.
"I am." You reply. "I got help. I went to see a shrink. So I know how it feels like to be fine."
I grin. Yeah. I grin. You got me. You understand me. So I explain, "In the past four years, since I met you, since we sang together actually, you make me feel this... particular feeling that I have no idea what it was. But it made me starving. For those feelings. You are like a drug for me. You made me feel unsettled, but I couldn't... stop craving for the feelings you give me every time we sing together."
You simply smile and take my hands in yours. And surprisingly, I feel as fine. As calm. So I continue, "I didn't know that I can feel something so strongly about someone until I met you. It scares me. So much. But in the same time, I can't get enough of you. I want more. So I'm sorry to uh... act like hot and cold? Because I don't really know what to do, or to feel around you when we're not singing."
"So..." I can see a teasing smirk on your face. Kind of a smug smirk. And you say, "I make you starve, huh? You are craving for me."
A light chuckle escapes my lips and I say, "Yeah. Kind of. But that kiss? It... fills the void of the starving. It makes me full. Content."
"Hmm..." You respond. Still smiling smugly.
I shrug and say, "Before this, when you were around, I just felt this... some kind of swirling sensation in my stomach. And it was uh... weird. And scared the hell out of me."
"You mean butterflies?" You ask with knowing smile.
I hum in thinking for a second before I answer, "I... don't know what it is. But it sure didn't feel like butterflies. More like a goddamn whole zoo in my stomach."
You laugh. I just made you laugh. And it sounds so amazing in my ears without my anxiety buzzing around.
Then you say, "It means you like me. More than just a friend. You get this feeling when you like someone. You're nervous to be around me."
"Huh." I nod absentmindedly. Then I smile and run my fingers through my hair before I ask, "Do you think uh... we can do it again? I mean the kiss."
Now a goofy grin appears on your face when you say, "Sure. Under two conditions."
I simply stare at you with an eyebrow raised.
"You can only do it with me." You say cheerfully. "And you agree to be my girlfriend."
"Oh." I respond. I'm not so sure about what you're talking about. "You mean... be together? In a... relationship?"
"U huh." You simply respond without any hesitation
"Are you sure?" I ask with a light chuckle of doubt. "I'm far from easy to deal with. You've seen it first handedly."
You lean closer, hovering your lips over mine and whisper, "I might just find the way to deal with you. And I kind of like it. And want to do it again. As much as possible."
I smile and close the gap between us. And there it is again. The calmness. The quietness. The peace. The content feeling.
Now I finally figure it all out. Things that make me feel starving over you. And now that I've tasted you, I know I'll still be starving for these feelings. And I'll be happily starving.
Because it's a good kind of starving. Wanting to be calm and content and peaceful. Without my anxiety buzzing in my head.
And only you can make me feel that way.
