AN : Hi all, I hope you would like this first chapter. It is seven years after Beca left Jesse behind to move to LA with Luke. A lot had happened and life just goes on, you know. I have been inspired throughout this story with Ed Sheeran's Thinking out Loud. I am on Wattpad now and it's great. Look for BeAtOne.
Chapter 1
Seven years later
No. It can't be time to wake up yet. No.
Beca rolled over and burrowed herself deeper into her bed. She wiggled into the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets and pulled her goose feather duvet over her head, trying to shut out the sound of that annoying alarm coming from her phone.
No. No joy.
That stupid alarm was beeping shrilly, like jackhammer in her head. Whatever possessed her to used Sisqo's Thong song as an alarm? She must have been mad. Beca grunted unhappily, blearily reaching out for the offending phone on the night stand. It was still beeping and buzzing crazily and with all her strength, Beca threw the phone across the room. It hit the door and fell to the floor with a satisfying thunk. If she wasn't feeling so ill, Beca would be quite impressed with her aim.
That stupid alarm mercifully stopped and Beca sank back gratefully into the folds of duvet, eyes already falling shut. Except there was a smart rap on the door and in the next second, she heard the door being opened and a voice calling out, "Good morning, Miss Beca."
Beca groaned, not believing her luck.
"Time to get up, Miss Beca. It's almost noon."
"Maria, don't open the..." Beca croaked. But it was too late. Her housekeeper, Maria had already pushed the buttons that drew the blackout blinds and within minutes, she could hear the mechanism whirring into action and the whole room was flooded with golden sunlight.
Beca slumped back into her pillow, totally disgruntled.
Maria came over with a glass of water and some Advil. Beca sat up groaning, popped the pills into her mouth and slowly drank the water.
"You've missed breakfast. Jose made huevo rancheros. If you like, I'll ask him to fix you a plate."
Beca shook her head. The thought of food made her felt queasy. She pushed her hair out of her face, feeling like she could be sick any minute. Seriously, how wild was the afterparty last night? She had a vague recollection of laughing and piling into a limo, paparazzi cameras snapping wildly as usual and then heading out to the latest hot underground joint. There was the usual crowd; her party posse, more loud music and dancing and more Kristal than she could remember.
At some point, someone must have brought her home. She could not recollect whom but she was now in her bed, undressed, not smelling of puke and thank god, all alone. In all, not that bad. At least she was in her own bed. Unlike previous occasions where she woke up somewhere totally alien and she had to call someone to pick her up.
Beca slumped back onto her pillows, staring up at the ceiling, willing herself awake. She could hear Maria pottering round the room picking up pieces of clothing she must have shed last night.
"Is she awake yet?" A familiar female voice spoke from the doorway. "Oh. Good morning, Beca."
Beca grunted her reply, sitting up slowly and planting her feet on the floor.
"Good party last night?"
Beca did not answer. Her PA, Sandra, was always far too cheerful in the morning. It's a failing. She should have added in the contract that her PA should not be too cheerful. In fact, she should add that to all her staff contracts. And they were only to approach her after 12.01 pm, preferably after she had some decent coffee.
"Roberto is coming up with your coffee," Sandra said, as if she could read her mind. She fussed with the iPad in her hand and looked at Beca expectantly. "Now, shall we go over today's schedule?"
Beca got up slowly and root around the nightstand. Once she had found her cigarettes, Beca lit one up and it was only after she had her first drag did she nod her head.
"Your ten o'clock massage is now at 11.30. I've rescheduled Sven from this morning to tomorrow. He was not too pleased we had to change your workout yet again this week."
Sandra stopped to check Beca's reaction. She was looking out of the window, still calmly smoking her cigarette, not saying a word.
"One o'clock lunch with Mr. Paterson at Browns. Luke told me to make sure you are there."
"Three pm meeting at Sony; followed by a 4.30 appointment for an interview. One of the daily rags like to have a sound bite. We could do that via phone. Then 5.00 pm hair appointment, 6pm stylist. She wants to discuss the new look. 7.30 invite to..."
"What time was lunch?"
Sandra drew to halt at Beca's question and she scrolled back on the iPad.
"One o'clock."
"Cancel it."
Sandra frowned a little. "Luke said it's important you make that meeting."
Beca was silent for a minute, standing by the window in deep thought.
"Show me the numbers," she finally said, holding out her hand. Sandra passed a sheaf of papers over and Beca quickly glanced through them. She snorted and tossed it aside.
"Papers."
She was handed the morning's press clippings. Beca rifled through them, stopping at one or another.
"Missed top ten again," Beca said bitterly before tossing the clippings aside on top of the other paperwork. She took a deep breath before turning round to face Sandra.
"Cancel all my other appointments today except lunch. I guess I have to explain myself to Mr. Paterson. Replace Sven with someone else who wouldn't grumble so much. Tell Petra I am not too happy with this new look - that pap photo is horrifying. I want something edgy and trendy; not terrifying."
"Got it."
"What time is it now?"
"11.20"
"I'm going for my massage. Get me Hayley for make-up and hair. God knows I can't go out to lunch looking like this."
Sandra hummed a little, checking the iPad yet again. "I don't think Hayley can make it in an hour. She's with Joan Collins and that usually requires half a day."
"Make it happen, Sandra. I don't care how."
"Ok." Sandra nodded. "And these came for you."
Beca finally noticed the bunches and bouquets of flowers in the room and the pile of wrapped presents.
"Why are they in my bedroom?" she yelled, stalking over to the array of bouquets and presents near the door. She irritably looked at the arrangements, plucking one card out. She read it, vehemently crumpled it before throwing it away.
"Well, it's your..." Sandra started but she stopped immediately seeing Maria frantically shaking her head.
"Get them all out. PR should handle all this," Beca continued, her voice still angry. "No more flowers in my room! I'm not having a repeat of that stalker smuggling a camera in one of these things. Get security to check all these parcels. I want them all unwrapped and checked next time."
"Ok. Anything else?"
"Send a tweet to RiRi. She deserved that number one. Send her some cigars or something. Find out what she likes. Not bloody flowers, for goodness sake. And get me a new phone."
Sandra nodded and then held out a few thick envelopes, "What should I do with these?"
"What?"
"You've got several invites. Some gallery opening tomorrow night. An awards show and a perfume launch."
"Bin them all." Beca said dismissively. "Where's my coffee?"
Almost to the second, the door swung opened and Roberto walked through with a silver tray. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room and for the first time that morning, Beca looked slightly happier. Roberto was smiling as he came over with the tray.
"Good morning, Miss Beca," he called cheerily. He placed it on a table and handed a cup of coffee over to her. She nodded and took a sip of the fresh brew, closing her eyes for a moment to savour the taste. Her eyes sprang the opened and was drawn to the tray.
"What is that?" she asked, gesturing to the china plate and silver fork.
"Cake, Miss Beca," Roberto answered. "Since it is your birthday, Roberto made you special vanilla cake."
There was an audible gasp in the room and for a moment, Roberto looked confused. He continued defensively, "It's a very nice cake. From my mama's old recipe. For birthdays."
Beca nodded slowly. "Thank you, Roberto. It's very nice of you."
She was still smiling, as she sipped her coffee slowly. Maria quickly bustled the man out of the room before shutting the door quietly. Both her and Sandra immediately swivelled round to look at Beca but she had turned to face the window, dragging deeply on another cigarette.
She exhaled slowly, the smoke curling lazily round her head.
"Fire him."
Lunch time at Browns
Luke glanced at the Rolex on his hand. She was half an hour late and there was only so many excuses he could give to Mr. Paterson. A slight frown marred his forehead but it was smoothed over quickly.
The restaurant was busy as usual with the lunchtime crowd. A famous name and a folded bill in the maitre 'd hand had secured them one of the more prominent tables in the restaurant. Luke placed his glass on the starched linen tablecloth and almost immediately, a waiter topped up their wine. Mr. Paterson was regaling him with yet another long-winded anecdote and Luke smiled charmingly.
That man was a bore. A powerful bore nevertheless and not a particularly patient man. But that expensive vintage red the waiter was pouring into his glass seemed to be his liking and he seemed quite mellow. Luke had guessed correctly that it was the wine that was making him stay.
She finally appeared in a flurry of smiles and perfume.
"I am so sorry! Traffic was such a nightmare!"
Beca fluttered down to kiss Nate Paterson on both cheeks and gave him a big hug before settling down on a seat. The waiter handed her a menu and another fussed over her and Beca smiled a megawatt smile in thanks.
"You've made it," Luke remarked, resting his eyes on her. She nodded his way before turning her full attention to their guest. With her engaging their guest in conversation, Luke was free to look at her again. She was sitting across him, her face animated and wreathed in smiles as she talked to Nate Paterson. She was being charming, eyes twinkling and flicking her dark hair back.
Luke was not entirely sure of the new haircut when he first saw it. It was far too short; so very different from the wealth of luscious locks she usually wear loose around her but it was growing on him. It was more dramatic and the new deeper brown colour made her skin more porcelain. Luke shook his head slightly; despite the five years in LA, she was still so pale.
She was wearing a sweet, understated cream dress, cinched with a gold belt, flaring out fetchingly from her tiny waist and Luke silently sent a prayer of thanks. She could have strode in, hungover from the party last night in her usual uniform of skinny jeans and vest but Beca had made an effort for this lunch. She remembered their guest loved a feminine woman in dress and that cream and pastels were his favourite colour.
Their orders came and soon they were tucking into their food.
"So Miss Mitchell, what are we going to do with you?" Nate said, smiling at the tiny brunette.
"What do you mean, Nate?" Beca said lightly, spearing a bit of the egg white omelette with her silver fork before delicately putting it in her mouth.
"You've seen the numbers, my dear."
She took her time chewing and swallowing her food before answering, "Oh, that."
"It had not been that good for the past two singles. Are you drying up, Miss Mitchell?"
For a moment, Luke saw that flash in her blue eyes that spelled trouble and he was ready to step in. But the flash was gone and Beca was now dabbing her mouth with her napkin.
"Nate honey, the hits will come. I am not a machine, you know."
She was smiling coquettishly but Luke knew she wanted to pepper that last sentence with at least one swear word. But she had done the right thing because Nate was enchanted. He leaned over and patted her hand in an avuncular manner.
"You don't have to worry, my dear. You are still one of our biggest stars. We won't terminate your contract. Just yet."
Her smile was as brittle as glass.
"That is good to know," she said evenly, taking another sip from her glass.
"The label does think we should kick up your PR a notch. Get you out there more. Some more endorsements maybe," Nate said in between mouthfuls of steak. "Tell me, how you feel about endorsing Albert Bartlett potatoes?"
That flash came back to her eyes.
"I just need some time to work on the music, Nate. I'm still recovering from the last tour. Good music needs work. Maybe if I take some time off the grid..."
"No, no. Not going to happen. No one buys singles from a recluse. We need to get you out there more."
"Nate.."
Luke heard the sharp tone in her voice and smoothly stepped in, "What Beca meant, Nate, is we should leave her to work on the music. We could draw up a PR plan together later; Beca does not really need to worry about the small details."
Nate Paterson was nodding in agreement as he chewed on his steak. Luke monopolised the conversation once more, steering it to various other safer topics and they continued their lunch.
"Well, this has been a pleasure, my dear," Nate said, a little later, face flushed red with wine. He got up and Luke and Beca were on their feet. He leant over to kiss Beca on her cheeks before shaking Luke's hand. "See that you make an appointment soon. We should discuss that potato deal."
When he finally walked out of the restaurant, Beca sat down heavily, a tiny scowl on her face.
"Potatoes? Potatoes?" she muttered under her breath."God, I fucking hate that man!"
"Well, that man holds the contract," Luke said. "Why were you late? I had to make him slightly drunk to keep him from flouncing off."
Beca ignored the question. "How much longer is the contract? Why can't we break it and go with someone else?"
Luke regarded her before replying, "Well, you do have an appointment with Sony today."
Beca was oddly silent as she concentrated on her plate.
"Beca?"
"I've cancelled the appointment."
He nearly exploded but Luke managed to button it down just in time. They could not have a row in this very public place. The only sign he was mad was by the very careful way he lined up his fork. When he looked up at her, Beca could see the hardness in his eyes.
"What do you mean you cancel it?"
His voice was like ice.
"I'm tired," she replied, her voice equally cold. "I'm just so fucking tired being paraded around like a poodle. It's not about the fucking music anymore."
For a moment, Beca thought Luke was going to give her another sharp retort. But then he sighed and placed his hand over hers.
"I know, baby."
He gave her hand a squeeze and Beca smiled weakly back.
"You look beautiful today," Luke said, giving her a half smile. "You clean up well, Miss Mitchell. I was quite surprised you didn't come in nursing a hangover."
Beca played with her food.
"You brought me home last night."
"Yep. You were pretty trashed."
"But you didn't stay."
It felt awkward for a moment as they both fell silent. He was still holding her hand across the table.
"Beca,"Luke said softly. "You had not asked me to stay in years."
She was quiet. Luke slipped his hand into his jacket, drew out a velvet jewellery box and placed it next to her hand. Beca stared at it for a moment.
"What is that?" she finally said.
"Up to you," Luke replied. "It could be your birthday gift. Or it could be the other thing."
"You know I don't do birthdays, Luke," Beca said, putting down her fork. She met Luke's steady gaze. "And I'm not ready for the other one yet." She was about to say something else when loud voices could be heard from the maitre'd desk. They turned to look at the commotion.
"I am seeing a friend! Her name is Beca Mitchell!" A woman's voice could be heard yelling.
"Oh shit!" Beca said, her fork clattering. Of all the baggage that came with this celebrity life, this was the one that she hated the most. She could feel her heart palpitating and her breathing was getting rapid. Which one of her stalker was this?
"Don't touch me!" the woman was now yelling. "I know her! Beca!"
Luke was already on his feet and was beside her in seconds. "We'll leave by the kitchens. I'll tell Paolo to drive the car round."
Beca was hurriedly getting up and gathering her things
"Beca, come on out, you freak!"
Luke was already holding her tight by her arm and they were walking quickly towards the service entrance.
"Beca, come on out! I'm not afraid of your voodoo tricks! You witch!"
Beca stopped in her tracks.
"I've got holy water. And I'm not afraid to use it, Beca!"
Beca's mouth fell opened. She turned around really slowly.
"Aubrey?"
And she could not believe whom she was seeing being held back by two staff.
"Aubrey Posen?'
Beca was still reeling in shock.
She was sitting down, hardly believing who was sitting opposite her right this moment. Sitting down right across there, smiling. Aubrey Posen, her arch nemesis in high school. The one who not only drugged her and left her vulnerable to rape but nearly brought Beca with her as she tried to jump off the roof.
In all honesty, Beca was still unsure why she was sitting calmly across this basket case from high school. Luke had been anxious with worry but her gut instinct told her Aubrey meant her no harm on this occasion and Beca said she would be ok. He did not quite believe it and chose to sit in a table nearby, giving them space to catch up.
"Oh my god, Aubrey. I cannot believe it is you."
"Better believe it," Aubrey said with a grin.
"I've not seen you since..."
"Yeah. Must be seven years now."
"What are you doing here?" Beca asked incredulously; still not over the shock of seeing her. It must have shown on her face because Aubrey suddenly looked a little flustered as she took a sip of her drink.
"Sorry for that little crazy display just now," Aubrey apologise. "I really wanted to get your attention."
"It's ok," Beca said graciously; completely omitting the fact that she nearly had a full scale panic attack. "I'm glad you yelled out. I wouldn't recognise it was you." Once the words were out, Beca felt like she have not said them. It sounded highly unflattering.
Aubrey Posen had changed.
In high school, she had always been scarily put together, not one blonde hair out of place, but the Aubrey today was more deshabillè. She had a long floaty cotton skirt on, which clashed with the spaghetti strap top she was wearing. Her hair wasbrassy blonde with brown roots showing, pulled back into an easy ponytail. She didn't wear any make-up; perhaps just a trace of coloured lip balm and her nails were chipped. In fact, sitting next to her, in her Azzedine Alaia dress and Louboutin heels, hair and make-up done, Beca felt she was the more painted of the two.
Aubrey's smiles were different too. Back then, they had always been a little fake but Beca could see she was genuinely smiling now, like she was happy to see Beca. Somehow Aubrey Posen looked more happy, more ...relaxed.
"It's so good to see you, Beca."
"Yeah, you too. How long have you been out here?"
"About two years now."
"Wow! I can't believe I've never run into you before."
There was a slight pause. Beca could not shake the feeling at how fake she was being, saying all these pleasantries. They didn't really part as friends and Aubrey was not exactly in the list of friends she would consider keeping in touch with. Beca shifted uncomfortably at that thought - she had not been very good at keeping in touch with anyone lately.
Aubrey cleared her throat, "Listen, Beca. I know you are trying to be polite. Thank you for not calling the cops on me. After all that happened between us -"
"Bree, it's fine - "
"No, let me explain please," Aubrey held up her hand to cut Beca off. "I'm not sure whether you've heard about what happened to me after that - "
"I sorta heard. You were -" Beca dragged out the last word, unsure whether she should continue. Aubrey nodded quickly.
"It's ok, Beca. You can say it," she said. "I went crazy and had to be admitted. I am ok with that now."
"Ok."
"But I got better. So much better," Aubrey continued. "It was hard work but the important thing was I got better. I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am for what you did."
"It's fine, really," Beca said a little uncomfortably. She was still not good at this.
"No, Beca, you saved my life that day. I owe you," Aubrey said, staring earnestly at her. "I came back looking for you. I really wanted to thank you for saving me that day."
Aubrey was nervously swilling her drink. "By the time I came back, I've found out you went out to LA. That was pretty amazing, Beca. I remembered you told me you wanted to do it. And you did. That was pretty fucking amazing."
She was smiling at her and Beca could not help smiling back. The move was not without tears and she left so much behind. The last seven years had not all been Kristal and Maybach but she had worked hard and had become a star. Her music had been on the charts and the fans still adored her. In all, Beca was a kick-ass success. Not bad for alt girl who never quite fit in in high school.
"So what are you doing now?" Beca asked. Aubrey was twirling her straw with her fingers and she lit up when Beca asked the question.
"That's another one I owe you, Beca," Aubrey said. "Seeing you coming out here chasing your dream, just made me realised I don't want to be a doctor."
Aubrey's face split into a huge grin. "So I did what I really wanted to do."
Beca's mouth dropped open. "You painted? You're an artist now?!"
"Yeah. And a good one," Aubrey grinned back at her. "I even got an exhibition coming up."
"Aubrey, that is fantastic!"
"- which is why I was so desperate to get hold of you," Aubrey continued. She leaned forward and grabbed Beca's hand. "I wouldn't be here because of you, Beca. I know you are probably busy and can't come to the opening tomorrow but if you could, that would be swell."
She looked so earnest and heartfelt that Beca gulped a little. She was used to people asking her to attend this or that, just to drum up some cheap publicity and frankly, she thought that sucked. She hated it and on principle, she usually refused, saying she was otherwise engaged, But seeing Aubrey so uncharacteristically earnest, Beca was divided now.
"Sure. Why didn't you send me an invite?"
"I tried. I think I've sent several through your PR and your agent," Aubrey was now saying. "I even popped over to your house and hand-delivered one. But I didn't get a reply. Your housekeeper is kinda scary as well."
Beca thought about the stacks of invites she always tell Sandra to bin.
"Oh, you mean, Maria, " she replied absentmindedly. "She's lovely actually. Wait. What? You know where I live?" Beca was amazed and slightly horrified at how tenacious Aubrey was.
"It's not that hard to find out, Beca." Aubrey said. She placed a thick cream envelope with a flowery calligraphic A decorating the front, on the table between them . "Here. just in case you didn't get the earlier ones."
"Thanks, Aubrey. I will try to come. I'll check my schedule with my PA."
"I know you might be too busy. If not tomorrow, just tell me when you can drop in. I really wanted you to see what you did for me." Aubrey said. "It would be great if you can come tomrrow though. Some of the old high school peeps will be there."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Remember Mike? And Bianca. Tom is coming. Jesse. Mark and Kate who are now married."
Beca only recognised one name.
"Jesse? Jesse's going to be there?"
"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, he's coming."
Beca was frowning a little now. "I thought he's based in London. Is he flying in?"
"Oh." Aubrey was now staring strangely at Beca, her brows knitting together. "You didn't know? Jesse's moved to LA now. He's been here for the past three months."
A/N Here you are, my darlings. Of course, Beca was no longer that shy, sweet girl of eighteen. Please tell me what you think of Beca's character now.
