The first time Chloe meets Beca it's nothing monumental. It's certainly memorable, but not life-changing. For Chloe, it's another day with another customer.
Fortunately for Chloe it's a rainy Friday which equals business for her. People always forget their umbrellas and end up stuck in the rain waiting for a cab. But that's why she loves being a taxi driver; the sheer unexpected excitement each day can potentially hold.
As she rounds the corner she spots a drenched woman waving her down vigorously, and so Chloe pulls over near her. The woman slides into the cab with a sigh of relief and Chloe catches a glimpse of her face, lovely but tense. As she pulls back into the road, Chloe awaits directions. After a long pause it seems as if the destination has escaped the other woman's mind.
"Anywhere specific?"
"Oh," the short brunette woman gives a start. "Can you just drive? Like, anywhere?"
It certainly is an unusual request, but Chloe knows that faraway glaze reflected in her eyes, that disorientation, that lost look. So she acquiesces, "Sure," and she doesn't quite know where she's going yet either.
"God, I'm a mess."
"I'm Chloe."
That earns her a grudging laugh from the brunette woman as she sniffs and wipes a stray tear, "And I'm being very rude."
"You can fix that easily," Chloe replies back with an easy wink towards the rearview mirror, "Tell me your name."
"R.J. Mitchell," the woman replies with a tight smile, "I'd shake your hand, but I'd rather not crash."
Chloe grabs her hand quickly and shakes it anyway. "Not really sure that's really your name, but nice to meet you still!"
"Well, it's what everyone calls me."
"But I'm not everyone, I'm just a random stranger you'll never meet again," Chloe corrects her with a coy smile. "So, you can trust me with your secret."
It earns her another suppressed chuckle from the woman, "Okay. Call me Beca."
"Beca," she tests the name on her tongue. "Tell me something about you."
"Uhm," Beca looks as if she doesn't know how to dignify that with an answer, "Anything?"
"Something."
"Like my job?"
As Chloe heads onto the high way she considers the question. "If you could only tell me only one thing about yourself, what would it be?"
"Wow, I don't know," Beca quirks her mouth to the side as she debates her answer. "I'm a successful tax lawyer?"
"Are you?"
"Yes, of course, that's why I said it," she seems a bit miffed that Chloe is dubious.
"Well, it sounded like a question."
"Fine," Beca says, still a bit irritated, "What would you say then?"
"I already told you," the taxi driver replies with an impish grin, "I'm Chloe."
"But that doesn't tell me anything really, just your name."
"Isn't that all you need to know, though?"
The brunette lets that marinate for a moment before replying, "I suppose, but I don't get a sense of who you really are from that."
"But see I'm not defining myself for you, I just feel like if you should know anything about me, you should know that my name is Chloe."
"And what about your weird job?" A bit horrified at her own words, Beca quickly tries to cover up, "Not that I think being a taxi driver is bad."
"I chose my job," Chloe laughs, clearly comfortable with the topic. "I was on a path to studying biomedical engineering, but I didn't want it."
"Why, though?" She seems genuinely interested. "I mean it would've paid better and had better working conditions, right?"
"Sure," the redhead agrees, "But it's not what I wanted. I love being a taxi driver, I love everything about it."
"Like what?"
"I love getting up in the morning knowing that I will meet someone new. I love knowing that I will perform a service, no matter how small, something as simple as taking someone somewhere they need to be. I love driving and losing all sense of direction and just letting the traffic take me where it will. I love feeling alive." There's another long silence and Chloe sneaks a peak towards the back to see Beca gnawing on her lower lip. "Too much?"
"Oh no," the brunette reassures her, "Just a lot to think about. You're lucky, you know?"
"I am."
"Because you're able to do something that you love," Beca elaborates. "I don't know many people-actually, I don't know anyone who can say that."
"Everyone has the capacity to be happy and do something they love," she states as if it's an easy and simple truth.
But Beca isn't so sure, "I think some people have their limits."
"And what about you? Do you enjoy being a successful tax lawyer?"
"I'm the best in New York, it's something to be proud of."
"That is an accomplishment," the redhead replies, completely sincere, "But do you enjoy it?"
"Jobs aren't usually meant to be enjoyed."
"So, that's a no?"
Beca cuts off abruptly with a short laugh, "I have no idea how this happened. Suddenly I'm talking to a taxi driver like she's my therapist."
"Because I'm a random stranger that you'll never see again. I'm safe." Chloe pulls into the parking lot of a park as the rain lightens to a drizzle. "We've arrived."
"We're at the park," Beca raises an eyebrow.
"It's beautiful here when it rains," is the only answer Chloe offers back with a dazzling smile.
"It is," the brunette reaffirms. "It really is." She hands the redhead two neatly folded bills and opens the door, stepping out. "This was perfect," Beca admits as she leans back into the cab, "This is what I needed."
"I'm glad, then."
"You keep saying you're a random stranger," Beca starts cautiously, "But it doesn't have to be that way, right? I could meet up with you again, if you wanted that."
Chloe laughs as she shakes her head, "Well, if the stars align and I'm meant to see you again, then we'll see each other again."
"I…" The tax lawyer ponders that for a moment, "I like that idea."
And as Chloe drives away in the taxi, Beca feels a fleeting emotion of want, a desire to see the random strange taxi driver again. But for now, the beautiful red and gold of the leaves against the sparkling blue of the small pond is good enough.
If it's meant to be, then it'll happen. And so life goes on, and truly Beca nearly forgets about the taxi driver with the bright blue eyes and wide grin. Five months pass faster than she expects in a whirlwind of work and more work. The weariness and unhappiness lay on her shoulders even heavier than before in a burden of newly noticed weight.
In what Beca should consider an odd twist of events, she meets Chloe again at a local Starbucks purely by chance.
"Beca?" No one calls her that, well not anymore.
"Hey," slips out of her mouth before she even recognizes the person behind her. It's the taxi driver with a Yankees cap over her ginger hair and hipster glasses rimming her face. She's dressed simply, like it's a down day, a simple solid navy blue sweater and comfortable tan slacks. And maybe it is a day off for her.
"Do you remember me?" The redhead looks a bit bemused.
"Yeah, Chloe, the taxi driver," Beca nods and extends a hand. "Nice to see you again."
But Chloe forgoes the handshake and leans in for a quick hug before telling the cashier, "I'd like a Marble Mocha Macchiato and a Caramel Macchiato for my friend here."
"How'd you know I wanted a Caramel Macchiato?"
"I worked here once, that's the most popular order."
"What life experience haven't you had?"
The redhead considers that for a moment before answering, "I've never been on a debate team, never been to a male strip club, never surfed in winter, never-"
"It was a rhetorical question," Beca tries to stop the smirk that's tugging on the corner of her mouth. "I have been on a debate team though, so one upped you there."
"Damn," she teasingly snaps her fingers in disappointment as the two of them move out of the waiting line and towards a table.
"So, how's your job lately?" Although Beca's thought about this moment quite a bit, she's not really sure what to say now. Of course, Chloe manages to make it seem like holding a conversation with a stranger for the second time is the most natural thing ever.
"Oh, same old," she answers casually, "I might take a break and head to Iowa for a month or two."
"What's in Iowa?"
"Dunno, never been." Again, Beca feels a strong pull towards this woman, but she passes it off as envy. The freedom, the relaxation and assuredness that the redhead can experience are things that she's never had. "And how about you?"
"Oh same old. Hectic and stressful."
"Well, what do you like doing? What's your passion?"
"Chloe, Marble Mocha Macchiato and Caramel Macchiato," the Starbucks employee calls out. Chloe excuses herself to get the drinks for the two of them.
Upon sitting down, the redhead repeats herself, "Your passion?"
"I don't really have one," Beca admits, sipping her drink, "I mean I enjoy reading in my rare free time."
"Come on, there has to be one thing that you were dying to do when you shipped yourself onto the lawyer boat."
"Well, when I was in like middle school I had this crazy idea I'd be a singer," she laughs at the remembrance of her naivety and foolishness.
"And why not?"
Beca looks at Chloe like she's grown two heads, "What do you mean why not? It's virtually impossible to be a singer, I've had like no training, and I have a secure job already."
"Well, indulge me for a moment," Chloe says, putting a hand over hers nonchalantly, "Close your eyes." The brunette sighs, but reluctantly complies. "Now imagine you're in a bar standing on the stage with a microphone in front of you. No one else but the piano guy is up there with you, and he cocks his head towards you waiting for a song selection. You indicate that you want to sing Grenade and he-"
"Bruno Mars, seriously?"
"Okay fine, what would you choose?"
"I don't know. Something classier. Something like David Guetta."
"Close your eyes," Chloe whispers, and Beca obeys again, "Okay, you choose Titanium and he begins to play the opening chords. The smoke and alcohol are overwhelming in stench even from the stage, but as you hold the microphone everything fades away. Your doubt, your nerves, your apprehensions, those all fade away. All that's there is you on the stage singing. You hold the audience enraptured with your dedication and heart." She pauses to let it sink in. "Now open your eyes and tell me you don't want that."
"I want it," she says in a hushed tone, "I want it until I remember that I'll probably be booed off the stage and fired."
"And so what if that happens? There's millions of bars in New York."
Beca rubs her temples, "Look, I respect your job, I respect your choices, but for my own life I want to do something. One day I'll look back on my life and wonder what have I done? Did I do something I wanted or did I do something extraordinary? As a tax lawyer I know I can be the best, make an impact on the firm forever."
Just as she thinks Chloe's finally understood (she's nodding her head along with Beca's words), the redhead thoughtfully bites her lip. "I guess we want two different things from a job. But I understand why you continue with your career, I admire that about you. Just for me, I would want to look back at my life and know that I had lived. Know that I had done everything I wanted."
"I've gotta get back to the office," Beca checks her phone, realizing the time. "Meeting in a few minutes."
"Enjoy," Chloe replies cordially, "It was nice bumping into you again."
So Beca heads out into the chilly spring air, hugging her jacket closer to her for warmth, and begins her trek back to the firm's building. Halfway there she sees a group of homeless people doing an acapella version of Whip It in the middle of the street. Next to them is a sign, proclaiming them to be the "Treblemakers", and an overturned cap with some spare change and a few bills. Honestly, Beca has three more minutes to get to the meeting and she's almost late as is, but she can't help but slow down and watch their performance. Their voices blend together richly and easily, making a warm melody and upbeat accompaniment.
Beca finds herself joining in for no particular reason, and one of the Treblemakers turns in her direction with surprise and jumps in front of her dancing. He puts his hands on her hips gently and they dance together and her face breaks out into a smile, the first genuine one in a long time.
"Whip it!"
When she arrives to the meeting ten minutes late (tardiness is something unheard of from her), she doesn't mind the judgmental glances in her direction. In fact, she doesn't mind the whole situation at all.
Truthfully, Chloe never really expects to see Beca again, maybe in passing, but never for a full conversation. And the last place she would ever guess for their next meeting is at a bar. Yet, when she enters Harry's Bar and Grill seven months later and hears a sweet voice crooning a Bruno Mars and Nelly mash-up, she's surprised to see a familiar face on stage. It's most definitely Beca.
The brunette has her eyes closed and she's so immersed within the song that it's like there's no audience watching her. Her stage presence is powerful despite her small stature, and her voice is simply beyond description. Chloe finds herself swaying slowly to the beat, fingers curled around a Heineken.
"Thank you," Beca finally manages after the song is finished and there's a wave of applause following her departure. It's only logical for Chloe to look for her backstage. It's only logical to envelop the woman, who is still a stranger, in a congratulatory hug. It's only logical for her to sport the most triumphant grin.
"This is amazing!" She's unable to keep herself from gushing.
"You were right," Beca laughs into her embrace.
"I generally am," Chloe jokes. "Did you quit your job, or?"
"I quit. Started my own firm, instead. I have a lot more free time nowadays."
"I want to say this is unbelievable, but I believed in it all along, so. But why?"
"I realized you were right. I want to look back at my life and say that I lived."
"And have you?" Chloe plays with the belt loops of her jeans nervously.
"No, but I'm living now, aren't I?"
The stage manager interrupts their conversation, "R.J., you're on again in five."
"Thanks, Benji," she says as she turns her attention back to Chloe. "I've got to go."
"Tell me one thing about you," Chloe can't help but request.
"My name is Rebeca Joan Mitchell," Beca bites her lip with a small smile. "But I'm just Beca."
She's rewarded with a glowing look on Chloe's face. "I want to see you again after this, like, a date or something."
The brunette nods with a bashful expression on her face, "If I'm meant to see you again, then I will." Chloe nods and resigns herself to fate then. To her surprise Beca presses a quick kiss to her cheek, "But just in case," and slips her a piece of paper before tearing back on stage.
364-4824
And maybe they're still strangers, but Chloe knows they won't be for long.
A/N: Thanks for reading! An extra special thank you to all those that followed/favorited, and an extra extra amazing thanks to those that reviewed! I appreciate it greatly. See you in a few days. Spoiler: Bigfoot.
Some additional notes:
1. To Fan on phone: I would guess that neither Chloe nor Beca really understood the cat, but pretended to. But who knows? ;)
2. I tried to write this while listening to In My Head - Mayday Parade (cover), but somehow ended up listening to the Kim Possible theme song on repeat for hours instead. So, all weirdness should be attributed to that.
3. I'm on tumblr: amiphobic . tumblr . com, if you have any questions.
Thanks once again! Next chapter will be longer.
