A/N - Well I finally finished another chapter. I could make excuses but really I have an adult job and it sucks.
Again - probably shit - but I feel like you'll either read it or you won't soooooo...
Lots of mistakes I'm sure so enjoy that :)
Also thank you for all the positive stuff!
I wasn't planning on adding songs because i normally hate that but then I thought... this is from Pitch Perfect which is about singing so it really should be in there at some point.
Anyway, release the crapfest!
Songs used:
Shaggy - It wasn't me
Bruno Mars - Marry You
David Guetta feat Sia - Titanium
To Beca's annoyance they don't actually get a break-break. They still have to sit in their dark corner space and wait for the go ahead to move to the next area. Sitting in her dark corner, she starts to wonder whether maybe it would just be worth it to leave and have Amy release the video… how embarrassing could that be? Surely the video isn't that clear – you probably can't even tell it's her.
She calls Fat Amy over so that she can ask how long she has to stay here but she didn't really get an answer. It was more of a "Fat Amy standard change the topic to avoid the question" kind of response. Something that the brunette is extremely used to by now.
"How much longer Ames? I'm starting to develop an STD just by being in seeing distance of that one that is VD in human form," Beca huffs.
"Oh come on Beca, you can't tell me you don't enjoy getting all this material for your show! You can totally brag about creaming these losers," Amy reasons with the short brunette.
"You have got to be shitting me! I'm taking this experience to my grave. I may have to change my name and move to Florida and retire early with the old people. Besides, have you been listening to these fools? 'Winning' against them is not exactly something to brag about. It just means I'm not an arrogant cock or as dumb as a door knob." Beca was really itching to leave, she doesn't know how she gets put in these situations. She needs to learn to be more assertive.
'Hmm I could be more assertive… OR I could find better friends! Yeah that sounds better… maybe even NO friends. Note to self to look into surgical removal of weirdos later. Hopefully no scarring and minimal effort required. Also don't ever think the words "note to self" again or you do not deserve your fucking pizza after this.'
"You say that now, but you haven't even seen the firecracker yet. She's right up your fanny," Amy nudges Beca's shoulder and throws her an exaggerated wink.
"Annnnnnnnnnd I'm outta here." Beca turns around and attempts to leave. The blonde grabs her arm loosely and spins her around.
"Becaaaaaaaaa," Fat Amy whines as she looks at the brunette. She know that Beca won't actually leave, she's too much of a sucker for her friends regardless of what she likes to think. She might be tough and spikey on the outside, but she is gooey and sweet on the inside – if you stick around long enough to see it. Definitely like a pineapple in Amy's eyes – something that should ALWAYS be on a pizza despite what Beca vehemently argues whenever they have to order it for their netflizza nights – which is also a name Beca has shunned. ("But that doesn't make sense Ames! Why not just call it pizza and Netflix night, you aren't saving that much time by shortening it if you have to explain it to people!").
"Amy you just said that she would be right up my butt. What exactly do you think I'm into?!" Beca throws her hands up with the end of that statement to say 'What the fuck'.
"What are you talking about short-stuff. I said she'd be right up your fanny," replies the robust host.
"Fanny means butt – that's exactly my point."
"Uhhhh I don't know what planet you're living on BM but fanny means vagina. You know, the lips you kiss but not in public… well, not unless you're ok with it going viral. And I'm pretty sure you'd love for this sheila to give your gash a nice long pash," Amy adds with a nudge (more like a strong elbow) to her ribs (that's totally going to bruise, Beca knows it) and some tongue action that will without a doubt cause nightmares and scarring on the brunette's psyche.
"You are painting a picture I never want to see. I really hope you've never taken art classes because I would totally feel for your teachers," Beca states with disgust. She looks like she's eaten something sour with how scrunched her nose is.
"You say that now but I'm quite the artist. Just look at the camera work on that video I snapped of you," she says with a grin as she pulls out her phone and loads the video for best friend. The video plays and a horrified expression takes its place on Beca's face as she realises just how clear it is that it is her pasty white ass (amongst other things) plastered on the screen of her blackmailers phone. There is no fucking way she can leave this place.
After a little while they are shuffled along to one of the other stages covered by a curtain. Behind the curtain is a microphone and some speakers, along with tables and chairs similar to a karaoke bar scene. Already Beca can tell that she is going to hate this more than the question time – there's no darkness this time, so people will see her and this is why she needs to formulate her new life as "Bianca Matthews" (or something just as generic) and shave one side of her head. They are whisked away to go behind the microphone area and are given a book of songs to look through, with the only instruction being: 'pick one that you know that shows your personality'.
This is definitely her area. Music is like life for Beca (or blood) – it runs through her veins, gives her purpose. She is happiest when she is blending beats, cutting tracks and listening to a pounding bass that is sure to destroy her hearing before she's 30. She's quick to grab the book and pick her song – it wasn't hard, the list wasn't exactly the most extensive or up to date.
Tom walks over to her and she goes to pass him the book, this is the first time she has been in the situation where the conceited ass has a chance to talk to her and she is already rolling her eyes internally… actually judging by Chicago's face behind Tom, she may have rolled her eyes for real.
'Oh crap. He's looking at me. Tom Mc-Assface is going to say something. If I have to talk to him I might throw up… or punch him in the nose. Actually, maybe that's a good idea… Then I go home instead. Wait no, I don't want Jesse to have to come bail me out. Dammit! Amy owes me big time for all of this.'
"So Becky is it?" Tom starts, a smirk that's probably permanent covering his face, "You're pretty short aren't you."
"Uhh actually it's Bec-a not Becky, Tim, and that's a startling observation you've made. You must work for Mensa," Beca retorts.
Tom scoffs, "No it's Tom, not Tim and I work for a stockbroking company. I have a huuuuuge… portfolio." He gives her an up-down glance and she can't tell if he is actually hitting on her or if he is trying to peacock himself. Either way, she was done with this conversation before it started.
"Wow, I'm impressed. I hope never to see it," Beca states with fake enthusiasm, turns around and walks away, leaving Tom stunned by the blatant disregard for any of his – well she doesn't think there is a word that's exists to describe whatever the hell he was trying to do.
She walks over to Fat Amy who is standing nearby. "Ames you have to keep that pig away from me, I might end up shoving my boot up his ass and leaving it there," Beca says while making a fist with her left hand.
"Woah little one, calm down, you can't go around giving people that perfect posture, you aren't a psycho-therapist."
"I don't think that's a thing."
"Sssshhhh little one. Save your voice for this segment," Amy says as she attempts to put her pointer finger to Beca's lips in a shushing motion (only to of course be met with a quick slap from Beca). "Now get over to the panty dropper holding the clipboard, we are about to do the next section."
Beca grunts and walks away to the area behind the stage and microphone. She can hear people being ushered around in front of it – she can only assume that they are sitting in the seats for the fake bar. Chicago taps his feet nervously on the ground near her and she doesn't even bother looking around at Tom-ass (there is every possibility he will have his pants unzipped and a pile of money sticking out of his fly) – it's safer not to look.
Fat Amy gets on stage and announces, "Heeey sexy pitches, it's time for the second part of our show and time for our contestants try to woo this boo with Karaoke Seduction. This will be the first chance our desperately dateless Chloe will have to see the hot messes that were carefully selected by my pussy cat sitting on their headshots and leaving a surprise. I've filled this fake bar with soulless ginger babes so that our disasters back stage won't know which one she is. First up is the ever… uh… present Tom! He's going to be singing a song about cheating apparently."
Apparently Chloe is in the fake bar audience this time and Beca and Chicago can only watch Tom's performance from a TV screen in the back area behind that stage. Beca is grateful that she doesn't have to go first. Knowing that Chloe will be able to see her this time though, worries the shit out of her. She is totally going to embarrass herself.
Tom walks out on stage and a spotlight shines on him. The music starts and she recognises the song instantly. This is literally a face-palm moment. She has no idea why she is surprised though – this is exactly what should have been expected from Mr 'My penis is too big and I'll buy you breakfast after our first date'.
Honey came in and she caught me red-handed
Creeping with the girl next door
Picture this we were both butt naked
Banging on the bathroom floor
How could I forget that I had
Given her an extra key
All this time she was standing there
She never took her eyes off me
Tom starts gyrating on stage and takes his suit jacket off and throws it into the audience. He's pointing and winking at each of the women he sees in the karaoke audience as he goes.
How you can grant your woman access to your villa
Trespasser and a witness while you cling to your pillow
You better watch your back before she turn into a killer
Let's review the situation that you're caught up inna
To be a true player you have to know how to play
If she say a night, convince her say a day
Never admit to a word when she say
And if she claims ah you tell her baby no way
But she caught me on the counter (It wasn't me)
Saw me bangin' on the sofa (It wasn't me)
I even had her in the shower (It wasn't me)
She even caught me on camera (It wasn't me)
She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn't me)
Heard the words that I told her (It wasn't me)
Heard the screams get louder (It wasn't me)
She stayed until it was over
As he's singing further into the song, he walks off the karaoke stage and up to red-headed ladies filling the bar. He thrusts in their faces and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
"Ok-aaaaay this is starting to remind me of Magic Mike 2 because nobody asked for it and we are certainly questioning what we did to deserve this," Fat Amy says into her mic.
Beca sniggers at that comment – she was definitely thinking something similar but probably not allowed to be said on TV. She doesn't know what he is thinking though – how is this POSSIBLY supposed to impress or seduce someone who sounds as sweet as Chloe – especially when he seems to be trying to get into the pants of every woman in this fake bar!
'Well that's a dangerous line of thinking there Mitchell. Focus on not vomiting all over this floor from the sickening sight of Tom's obnoxious dancing and not thinking about someone you haven't actually met yet.'
As she focuses back on the TV again she sees Tom grab his crotch and bile rises in her throat. He takes his shirt off and starts flossing with it between his legs. The music cuts off abruptly and Fat Amy walks up to the stage.
"Alrighty folks, pretty sure we've all witnessed enough now. We will be passing bleach around the audience for you all to wash out your eyes – I'm sure it will feel better than watching… whatever that was, anymore."
Tom is taken backstage again and the TV screen that Beca and Chicago were watching cuts the feed and goes black. Beca hears the blonde host ask Chloe what she thought of that performance and whether she was as moist as a kangaroo pouch.
"Oh… it was definitely something. I don't think I'll be able to forget it, despite how much I might want to," Chloe responds. Beca can't help but vehemently agree with that statement and it reinforces her idea that this woman clearly deserves better.
"The exotic arts aren't for everyone – especially Tom it appears. So let's get ready for our next performer and hope that Chicago brings us away from the Amityville Horror territory we crossed over to. His song is Bruno Mars – Marry You."
The brunette watches Chicago breathe out slowly and follow the clipboard guy's instructions to get out onto the stage. He gets in front of the microphone and then nervously starts singing along.
It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do
Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you
Is it the look in your eyes, or is it this dancing juice
Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you
'Wooooooow. He really can't sing. This sound is almost as haunting as listening to Amy go at it like a gorilla… Almost'
Chicago starts swaying stiffly from side to side. He doesn't know how to dance at all by the looks of it. The silver lining in this for Beca is that she cannot possibly be more awkward or uncomfortable on the stage than he is right now. So as long as she doesn't attempt to fuck the red-headed ladies while singing, she should be fine.
Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard
We can go
No one will know
Oh c'mon girl
Who cares if we're trashed
Got a pocket full of cash we can blow
Shots of Patron
And it's on girl
The music cuts off again – earlier than Tom's turn – and Chicago looks a little pleased.
"Oh awesome! I finished faster than Tom!" Chicago states chuffed. He clearly thinks it's a race.
"Ok soldier, back to your base camp behind the stage – nice guys clearly finish first in this case and I'm worried the early finishes don't stop at his singing – if you catch my drift," Fat Amy winks at the screen. The TV goes black again in the backstage area and Chicago walks back again to where Beca is, smiling widely.
"Chloe – you might seriously be catching my drift, very sorry for crop-dusting you right now. Now that we all know what a cat in heat getting strangled sounds like, we might move on to the next hot mess. But first – Chloe, did Chicago get your wombat's racing?" The blonde questions Chloe.
"Um… well, it was a slightly more pleasant performance than the first go. I'll say that I have got a better feeling about the last one though," the apparent red-head answers.
Now that really caught Beca's attention. Her head shot up at break-neck speed. Now she has a lot more to be nervous about – Chloe is actually expecting her to do well! (Or at least better than Dumb and Dumber).
"Aww yeah, well on that note, let's bring out my bestie from some other testes! Beca is going to be singing "Titanium" by David Guetta."
Beca starts feeling the panic and then she feels a giant shove from behind to get her out onto the stage. Looking back, it was that damn clipboard guy again – what the fuck is his problem – he loves pushing her out onto the stage. (Again, she totally wasn't going to run… perhaps go to the bathroom and drown herself in a toilet bowl, but definitely not run).
'Pull yourself together Mitchell – you host a radio show and have to speak in front of thousands of people every day – this is no different! Except for the embarrassment of looking like an idiot… in front of an audience – oh god you should've just let Amy release the video.'
The short brunette walks up to the microphone and looks out at the sea of red before her – there's about 20 females before her. It's unlikely that Chloe will be at the front. She feels the spotlight on her and her panic levelling out.
'Just don't crap yourself. You got this. You know you've got pipes.'
She hears the intro to the song start and waits for her cue.
You shout it out
But I can't hear a word you say
I'm talking loud not saying much
I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet
You shoot me down, but I get up
Starting off softly but gaining confidence as she hears people quietly murmuring about her impressive voice. She takes the microphone out of the stand and puts more power into her singing.
I'm bulletproof nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium, I am titanium, I am titanium, I am titanium
Cut me down
But it's you who has further to fall
Ghost town, haunted love
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones
I'm talking loud not saying much
Trying not to search through the crowd as she sings, just focusing on the words and what the song is about – empowerment, being strong. She thinks at least this song says good things about her taste in music and probably better things about her personality than Tom's cheating song or Chicago's song about being dumb and drunk (and getting married for all the wrong reasons).
I'm bulletproof nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium, I am titanium
Beca's eyes finally look through the crowd – she's not dancing really, just feeling the song – and she happens to see the bluest, most beautiful eyes she's ever seen. Maybe this is a performance high. Maybe she's fainted on stage. Maybe, just maybe, she's dead. There is no way that a person with eyes (and a face) like that exists in real life.
The owner of said angelic face is staring right back at her, completely enamoured. It's possible that this is Chloe, but it's also just as easily possible that Beca is hallucinating under the bright lights and has been drugged again by her large and in charge roommate. She doubts that it is Chloe (because what are the chances of her just happening to find the right woman in this audience), but then again, the red-head is paying such close attention to her. It's almost like she can't look away if she tried.
Stone-hard, machine gun
Firing at the ones who run
Stone-hard, thus bulletproof glass
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
I am titanium
Finishing strong after a powerful performance feels good. How she managed to actually continue and not fall off the stage after spotting the jaw-dropping woman in the back, is a miracle. Beca is breathing heavy and the audience applause is deafening.
"Woooooo BM! I can feel it in the air – the very moist air – that you have dropped alllll of these ladies panties right here. Go backstage and show the other 2 just how cocky you are," Amy shouts to her.
She smiles back, relieved that her turn is over and she hasn't utterly destroyed her life by fucking that up. Beca looks back towards the blue-eyed dream and finds her still awe-struck. She manages a small smile at her and turns to go back stage.
Once behind the wall again she hears Fat Amy ask Chloe what she thought about the performance.
"I uh… I think that the best was saved for last. That was so genuinely heart-stoppingly beautiful. I will never be able to forget that performance, and I never want to," Chloe responds – sounding like she is in a trance.
"Well Chloe might be down for the count after that one. We will have another break now and come back with our last round in which our hot messes are in for some crappy surprises! One of them will definitely be getting the flick and by the end we will see who our resident ginger has chosen to date!"
The short brunette leans against a wall and slowly exhales. It's kinda awesome to hear that Chloe enjoyed the song. She guesses that so far this night hasn't been as bad as it could've been. If she lives through it (it IS Amy after all) she might even thank her roommate for blackmailing her (after she kills her of course).