Beca paces up and down the ridiculously small space of her shared room, much to the obvious frustration of Kimmy-Jin, but Beca is honestly too stressed to even notice her. Ever since Jesse told her exactly what a riff-off is she's had a growing amount of nausea which is now reaching Aubrey-levels of bad. With only a few hours to go she's now cursing her father under her breath.
"Join in Beca! It'll be fun!" he said. This isn't exactly what she had in mind when she somehow joined an a cappella group. Lezbereal, she really only joined because of The Ginger. But now it is starting to get serious, with the Bellas, not Chloe, she wishes it was getting serious with Chloe.
She wishes it was getting something with Chloe, but no. It feels like they're wanting to sing a duet but no one is sure who starts, or even what they're singing, geez that sounds cheesy as hell, but honestly though how do you duet in the shower together like that and then you don't duet in… other places.
All Beca knows at this stage is that the riff-off seems more and more nerve-wrecking, but also Chloe will be there, but also everyone else, Beca isn't sure anymore if she's going to rehearsals because of her dads promise or because of the redhead.
Beca wishes she'd have the guts to send one of the many mixes in her Ginger-folder to the ginger in question, just to see what would happen, if anything would happen. The amount of times she's showered more than twice a day in hope of a repeat is really quite absurd, and definitely not eco-friendly.
She has a feeling Chloe would scold her about that fact rather than be freaked out that Beca has turned the showers into her lesbian hideout.
Beca glares at her phone lying on her bed, debating internally back and forth between her options. She could bail out, it's not like she contributes much anyway to the group, not that she's really allowed anyway thanks to Aubrey. She could just start showing up to her classes and actually write the occasional essay, maybe that would be enough. The thought of it feels like the first time she heard Justin Bieber.
But bailing out means bailing on the human version of a puppy, and she doesn't even like puppies, but she does like this human version. A lot. Too much. Far too much. Bailing means the Bellas definitely won't reach their dreams of going to Lincoln Center this year, lezbereal when Chloe asked her that, her eyes, it was like a punch in her stomach and when she finally remembered how to breathe she blurted out the worst lie possible.
"Sorry, I don't even sing." If only the ginger knew. Don't even sing, fffyeah right. Beca was surprised she didn't say something equally dumb like "Sorry, I don't even like gingers." Well at least she'll never know, Beca had thought. She didn't get to be right about that for very long, the singing that is, thank Yoncé.
She'd had to bolt after that, especially since her brain was 5 seconds away from asking if the redhead had any other skills to perform with her mouth because Beca would love to hear that answer.