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November 1, 2020

Corvallis, OR

Chloe hummed along to an upbeat song playing over her kitchen radio, her fingers tapping against the spatula as scrambled eggs sizzled in the pan. She sang softly to herself as she stirred them, her red hair tied back into a messy bun. Turning the heat off, she spooned them onto her plate and took the slices of bread from the toaster that had just popped up.

Dousing on generous globs of jam, she glanced out the window and stifled a sigh, her shoulders slumping. It was yet another rainy, gloomy day in Oregon. The past couple of months had consisted mostly of damp, bone-chilling cold, day after day. Chloe could scarcely remember the last time she had seen the sun shine.

Though Portland was her home, after spending seven years in sunny Atlanta, she'd found it more difficult to readjust to the bleak patterns of weather than she'd anticipated. It had been two years since she'd arrived back and she still seemed to struggle, especially through the long winter months.

But she tried her best to keep a positive attitude, even though between the weather, her gruelling class schedule and clinicals, had reduced her social life to something practically nonexistent. Her routines, such as making a habit of singing to the radio every morning, were what kept her clinging to her last shreds of sanity.

Thankfully, it was the weekend, which meant more time to unwind—and even more for studying. And, she was reminded as she opened her laptop, it was November 1st. Looking at her calendar, she felt a genuine smile spread across her cheeks for the first time in what felt like ages. It was November 1st. Cynthia Rose's wedding was on the 16th. That meant that in just sixteen more days, she'd be leaving Portland and returning to Atlanta for the first time in over two years. Chloe was desperate for a break, and she couldn't imagine a better opportunity than spending a weekend with her best friends, celebrating CR and the love of her life.

Chloe breathed in happily, adjusting her photo of the Bellas from their last time together: their summer adventure in Europe. She had it perched on the ledge of the breakfast bar so she could see it every day and let it remind her of the fun she'd once had.

In a way, it seemed somewhat depressing that she even needed such a reminder. But the fact of the matter was that Chloe missed the Bellas all the time, regardless of what her general attitude was towards life. No matter how positive or negative she could try to be, the reality was that she missed her friends—nothing could really change that.

She glanced at the photo again, catching sight of her and Beca, side by side with their arms around each other, smiling and laughing. Her stomach fluttered at the memory, her heart tugging with an all-too familiar pang.

She thought of Beca every day. She wondered how she was, what she was doing, how work was going for her. She missed just talking to her, even if it was about something ridiculous or insignificant.

She often remembered the day they parted ways for the last time; the last time she had seen Beca in over two years. She had asked her to promise that they would stay in touch, and Beca had agreed. At the time she had seemed so willful, and at first, she kept her promise. But as time went on and their lives became more chaotic, their conversations became less frequent and more sporadic. Eventually, there came a time when Chloe just stopped trying. After having her messages ignored for days, then weeks on end, she stopped asking Beca to follow up. Because even if Beca did get back to her promising to FaceTime soon, it never ended up happening.

Chloe understood—she really did. Beca was insanely busy, and so was she. She was so incredibly happy that she was so occupied with her career and that it seemed to be taking off. She only just wished that she could still know what was going on in her life. They had gone from sharing every single detail with each other and joined at the hip, to months passing without them talking. And because Beca's schedule was too erratic for regular communication with anyone, none of the Bellas knew more about her than she did. Amy was the only exception, and remained the only one of the group who was able to verify from time to time whether she was still alive or not.

And while Chloe was understanding, the way they had grown apart left a profoundly unsettling feeling within her. Though she didn't resent her in the slightest, Chloe couldn't help the hurt she felt towards their situation. While she knew that Beca hadn't necessarily dropped her on purpose, she couldn't stop herself from questioning the legitimacy of their friendship. If they meant as much to each other as Chloe had once thought, wouldn't Beca have made more of an effort to keep her in her life?

She found herself often wondering if Beca missed her even a fraction of how much she missed her. She wondered if she so much as spared a thought towards her once in a while. The chance that she didn't was something that Chloe still struggled to come to grasps with. Because while she understood and empathized with a hectic life, the possibility that Beca didn't care about her in the way she thought she did tore her up inside.

It was difficult enough just to cope with the estrangement of her best friend. It was inexplicably hard to go from talking to someone every single day and sharing everything together, to two people who might as well have been strangers. As much as she might have tried to wish it away, nothing ever seemed to fill the void in Chloe's heart that Beca's absence had left.

The prospect of finally reuniting at the wedding both excited her and made her intensely nervous. Perhaps it would be everything she hoped and wished for: a joyous reunion between her and Beca where they pick up where they left off almost as if no time has passed. Or, it could be the opposite. What if Beca really didn't want anything to do with her anymore? What if Beca wouldn't even be there? What if she wouldn't see her ever again?

The very idea of any of the latter happening tore her in two. She missed Beca so much that she would be ecstatic just to see her again and let everything else slide. After all, Chloe didn't need an apology from her. She just needed Beca.

Chloe smiled sadly at the photo, moisture threatening to ebb at her eyes, her heart still tugging painfully.

November 16th couldn't come fast enough.

November 15, 2020

7:18 p.m. EST

Atlanta, GA

"Cheers, ladies!"

Glasses clinked with chants of approval all around, the air in the restaurant spirited and filled with a new excitement.

Chloe couldn't have peeled the big goofy smile off of her face if she tried. With her wedged between Aubrey and Jess, surrounding them was Ashley, Stacie, Flo, and Emily, with Cynthia Rose in the centre. She was reunited with her girls in balmy Atlanta, and nothing had felt better in what felt like a very, very long time.

There was only one thing missing from the otherwise perfect picture.

Beca.

"Alright, first off. Thank you all for coming," Cynthia Rose started, jolting Chloe from her thoughts. "It means so much that you all could be here, since some of you have come from far."

She looked at Chloe, and the two exchanged smiles. CR was glowing. It filled Chloe with joy to see her friend so happy.

"Denise and I thought it would suit us better to hang with friends instead of having bachelorette parties," she explained. "I'm glad that we could take this as an opportunity to reunite, and your support means the world to both of us. So...Thank you again, and I can't wait to see all of your lovely faces again tomorrow. We're going to have a blast. That's all."

CR clasped her hands together, smiling bashfully as a chorus of 'awww's rang in response to her short speech.

"Anything for you, CR," Stacie said, beaming.

"Group hug!" Flo chimed in. Something of a domino effect happened as the girls all squished beside each other in the booth, smothering Cynthia Rose between them and resulting in a fit of giggles.

"Aren't we missing people?" Emily asked once they were back in order. "Where's Fat Amy? And Beca?"

"Are they not coming?" Chloe added, trying to appear casual as murmurs of mutual concern swept around the table.

"Not to worry, girls," Cynthia Rose said, putting her hands up to calm them. "Beca and Fat Amy are flying in tomorrow morning. Amy told me they weren't able to get a flight earlier than an overnight."

Chloe immediately loosened at the news, letting out a small breath of relief. As much as she had been excited about seeing everyone else, what she had been nervous about for months was seeing Beca again, and after they all arrived she'd been nowhere to be found. As much as she just wanted to live in the moment and enjoy the time she had with the girls, all her mind had been stuck on since they'd gotten to the restaurant was where Beca was and if she was even coming to the wedding at all.

She was glad to know that she and Amy were going to be there, though the thought of finally reuniting with her still had her stomach tied up in knots. Since she had no idea how it would turn out, she could only be apprehensive and want to just get it over with.

Chloe had waited months, years leading up to this moment—she just couldn't stand not knowing any longer.

Los Angeles, CA

10:23 p.m. PST

"Beca, will you calm down already?"

"I'm sorry," Beca said, rolling her palms down her thighs. "I can't help it."

She had been fidgeting like mad during their entire car ride and Fat Amy had become increasingly frustrated with her. She honestly couldn't blame her for it. They'd set off at ten to get to the airport in time for their 12:30 a.m. flight. It was four and a half hours overnight, and with the three hour time difference, they were scheduled to arrive in Atlanta around 8 a.m.

"Am I going to need to give you a tranquilizer or something before we get onto the plane?" Amy asked, side eying her. "You're going to keep everyone else up and then everyone's going to be pissed off, and then I'm going to have to deal with a horde of cranky passengers because you just can't keep it in your pants long enough for us to get there."

Beca blinked at her, mouth gaping open.

"I—" she sputtered, trying to speak, but words seemed to escape her. "What are you talking about? Keep it in my pants? Who, what—"

"Oh come on, Beca. I wasn't born yesterday. You've been like this for the past two weeks because you're just so excited to bone Chloe again," Amy said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? Again?" Beca repeated, incredulous. "I've never—me and Chloe, we, we haven't done anything, ever!"

"Beca, it's okay. Seriously. The jig is up. We all know your secret, you don't have to lie to our faces anymore. I mean, just look at Cynthia Rose. Gay is a-okay."

"Amy, I'm serious," Beca pleaded to her. "We've never done anything. We're just friends, I swear."

"Mm, okay. Sure. And I'm a virgin," Amy deadpanned.

"Ha! Good one, babe," Bumper called from the front.

"Don't call me babe." Amy said, looking mildly disturbed.

"Okay," Bumper said, straightening up in his seat and clearing his throat.

Beca groaned, leaning her elbows on her knees and putting her face in her hands.

"You're impossible."

"At least I got you to relax," Amy countered.

"I'm not relaxed," Beca muttered, rubbing at her temples.

"Alright, well, if you're not gay for Chloe, then why are you so freaked out?"

"I already told you," Beca said, sighing as she sat up. "It's my fault that we haven't talked in months and I'm not sure if she'll even want anything to do with me anymore."

"Oh, right," Amy said, watching the road from her spot beside Beca in the backseat. "Well you need to relax, Beca. I mean, really. I doubt Chloe's going to hate your guts. It's just not like her."

"I know," Beca agreed, her stomach still churning. "I'm still nervous, though. I miss her so much and I just want to make things right between us."

"Ugh," Amy looked at her, cringing in disgust. "Please, spare me from your sappy shit. And you wonder why everyone thinks you're a lesbian."

Beca pouted, sitting back in her seat in defeat, her arms across her chest.

It was going to be a long night.

Atlanta, GA

8:37 a.m. EST

Beca and Amy emerged from their gate at Hartsfield-Jackson both half-asleep and hardly functioning, both wearing sunglasses to shield their eyes from the already blazing sun.

It had been a rough night, as predicted. Beca had hardly slept at all between her rampant anxiety and Fat Amy snoring beside her. Her head felt fuzzy and her eyes were tired and strained, but somehow the principal thing she was concerned about was seeing Chloe later. The realization that it would finally be happening in just a few short hours sent her heart slamming itself against her rib cage, her adrenaline spiking. She would be seeing her before the day's end.

Her stomach twisted nervously. Would she be happy to see her? Or would it be the opposite? She wouldn't know until they at last came face to face, but her fear of the unknown was slowly but surely driving her mad. She just couldn't wait to see her again and finally pour out all of the things that had been weighing on her since they'd lost touch so many months ago.

The thought of talking to Chloe again was the only thing that was still maintaining what was left of Beca's sanity. Just imagining being in her presence again was enough to calm her down enough that she was able to function again. Even if Chloe would be upset with her, thinking about looking into those stunning blue eyes again made her feel like everything would be okay.

And maybe everything would be okay. Beca could only hope.

They took a cab from the airport to their hotel, which was the one Cynthia Rose had designated for family and friends to stay at who were coming from out of town. Both of them still half-dead, they checked in and begrudgingly lugged their bags up to their room.

"Okay," Beca announced once they'd gotten in, flipping her suitcase open on the floor. "We need to hang up our dresses because they're going to be wrinkled. It's almost ten now and the wedding is at two thirty, so we should probably start getting ready around twelve, twelve thirty maybe? Amy? Amy—"

Beca looked up to see that Amy had collapsed on the bed and was now passed out, snoring. She sighed, shaking her head as she hung up her own dress, then opened Amy's suitcase and did the same for hers.

She stood back and looked at her friend, blissfully asleep. Sleep sounded so good…

"Okay, maybe I'll just nap for a little while," she said to herself, climbing up onto the other bed.

The moment her head hit the pillow, she dozed off in almost no time.

Beca awoke with a start, shooting straight up out of bed. She had passed out completely and alarmingly felt like she'd been asleep for ages. She grabbed her phone to check the time. It was after one.

"Fuck!" she yelped, throwing the covers off of her. "Amy, come on! We have to get up!"

A strangled groan came from her friend's side of the room, her face buried into the pillow.

"Huh? What's going on?" Amy mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Where are we?"

"We're in Atlanta for Cynthia Rose's wedding which starts in an hour and a half, and we still have to take a cab there," Beca told her, forcing her own body to move even though she was still stiff from sleep.

"Oh, shit," Amy said, pushing herself to the edge of the bed. "Well we've got to get ready!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Beca said. She would have laughed if she hadn't been so damn anxious. "We don't have time to shower, but I've got dry shampoo."

"Thank the lord," Amy said, finally getting to her feet.

The two of them got to work quickly, brushing their teeth and washing their faces side by side in the bathroom while the flat and curling irons heated up. They frantically ran brushes through their hair and attempted to make themselves look well-groomed, both stripped down to their underwear.

They put on their dresses, leaving makeup last. Beca worked to apply her eyeliner as quickly as she could without slipping up. After some quick foundation and bronzer, a light blush and some mascara, she chose a dusty red lipstick to compliment her navy blue cocktail dress.

"Okay, what's the time," Beca said to herself, checking her phone. "Just about two. Okay, we're making good time."

After pulling on their heels and grabbing their clutches, they at last rushed to the hotel lobby to call a car.

The golf club where the wedding was being held was a little ways' more out in the country; about twenty minutes from their hotel. Beca was on edge the entire way there, staring out the window and fidgeting endlessly.

"Please don't tell me this is going to be a repeat of our flight," Amy said, giving Beca a tortured look.

"Well it won't be, considering we'll only be in here for twenty minutes," she replied, wringing her fingers together and resisting the urge to pick at her nail polish. "I'm sorry; I can't help it."

"Alright, look," Amy said, putting her hand up with a sense of finality. "No one is going to hate you. It would be different if you were some kind of big shot music producer snob now—kind of like when you almost walked out on us that one time."

Beca just stared at her, her expression betraying her thoughts of how exactly this was supposed to be helping.

"But once they see that you're the same old Beca, just with incredibly poor communication skills, everyone will be happy to see you again."

"Thanks…I think?" Beca said, wondering if that was more of a diss or a compliment.

"I can't wait for this to be over with honestly," Amy continued in her thickly accented monotone. "I know you're all hung up on Chloe, but good god—"

"I'm not hung up on Chloe," Beca maintained, folding her arms across her chest. "She's my friend, or was my friend at least, and it's very nerve-wracking that I haven't seen her in such a long time."

"Yeah, yeah; excuses excuses, Mitchell," Amy said, waving her off again. "I'm going to make a bet with someone that you'll jump each other's bones by the end of the weekend. That'll be an easy twenty bucks."

Beca rolled her eyes, sitting back in her seat with a sigh. Once Amy was convinced of something, there was no going back. Trying to argue was pointless.

They arrived in the nick of time, just minutes before it was scheduled to start. The ceremony was being held outside, with the backdrop of the sweeping golf course behind them. It was a bright sunny day, the willow trees surrounding them providing some shade as they swayed gently in the wind. Being November, the weather was an even sixty-eight degrees: not too hot, not too cold.

It was a gorgeous day, and the ceremony setup was beautiful—but Beca couldn't bring herself to focus on any of that just yet. She was looking around frantically, keeping her eyes peeled for Chloe or any of the Bellas, yet to no avail. The area was packed with Cynthia Rose and Denise's friends and family, and none of the girls were anywhere to be seen.

"Do you see any of them?" Beca asked Amy, trying to angle herself to see over people's heads.

"No," Amy said, making Beca's shoulders slump in defeat. If Amy, who was an entire half a foot taller couldn't see them, they were pretty much out of luck. "They're probably up closer to the front."

"Do you think we have any chance of getting up there?" Beca asked, doubtful. She usually wasn't one to be sentimental, but she would have liked for all of them to be sitting together during the ceremony. Moreover, she didn't want any of them thinking that her and Amy hadn't shown up, especially not Cynthia Rose.

"I doubt it," Amy said, already looking uncomfortable at the swarms of people crowding the area. "Let's just get seats where we can find them. We don't have time for pleasantries anyway; it's about to start."

Reluctantly Beca followed her into the seating area. Their timing was perfect, as the music started just as they were taking their seats. For the amount of people present, it was amazing how quickly everyone managed to sit. Just a minute or two later, the procession began.

First came the bridesmaids, walking in pairs side by side. The colours were blush and black, with accents of a brighter pink in the girls' bouquets and the flowers decorating the edges of the aisle. After the two maids of honor came Cynthia Rose, looking sharp in her tux and bright pink tie. She was all smiles as her dad led her arm-in-arm down the aisle, who stood by at the altar waiting to hand her off. The ring bearer and flower girl came hand-in-hand, cute as ever carrying a sign that said 'Here she comes…'

They stood, all turning to look down the aisle for Denise. She emerged on the arm of her father, looking stunning in her traditional white dress. Beca turned to look at CR, who was adorably tearing up at the sight of her bride.

She couldn't help but smile as Denise reached the altar and their fathers shook hands before handing their daughters off to each other. Cynthia Rose was beaming, and never took her eyes off of Denise. It warmed Beca's heart to see her so happy.

As the officiant began, her mind began to wander. When it came to romance, Beca was no expert. In fact, she'd been single since she'd dumped Jesse years ago and had had little to no desire to date anybody else. It was partially due to the fact that since being in LA, she'd simply been too busy to even spare a thought in that department—but even more than that, she was perfectly happy being alone. She'd always been independent, and this stage in her life was no different. Having another person around, with feelings and romance and expectations all in the mix just seemed like much more than she was prepared to deal with.

But seeing Cynthia Rose and Denise exchanging their vows made her think. She hadn't been to a wedding in years—she tended to avoid them like the plague, finding them boring and overly sappy. But there was something about seeing her friend so happy with someone that meant the world to her that stirred something inside her.

She'd never understood love. She couldn't begin to understand the concept of caring for someone so much that you'd vow to spend the rest of your life by their side. But upon seeing them together, part of her began to wonder what that was like. What it was like to have someone you'd do anything for, who would do anything for you in return.

Who am I? Beca thought to herself, mildly disturbed at how emotional she'd been lately. Maybe she was PMSing.

"By the power vested in me by the State of Georgia, I now pronounce you bound by civil union. You may kiss your bride."

The declaration from the officiant snapped Beca from her thoughts and back to reality just in time to see Cynthia Rose and Denise share their first kiss as wives. She couldn't help but smile like an idiot again at the happy couple, joining in the applause from the cheering guests as they all stood to see them back down the aisle.

As soon as the party had made their way out, swarms of people almost immediately crowded the area, consequently blocking Amy and Beca's line of vision once again.

"Great," Beca muttered, putting her hands on her hips as she tried to peek over the heads again. "How are we supposed to figure out where they are now?"

"C'mon," Amy said, grabbing her hand. "We're gonna push our way through."

"Oh God," Beca frowned, cringing at the idea of being in such close proximity with so many unknown people.

"Excuse me, coming through," Amy called out, dragging Beca behind her. They made their way through with some difficulty before they reached a break in the crowd which seemed to separate the back and front halves of the seating area. "Okay, they should be around here somewhere."

Beca scanned the area, this time having a much clearer view. People were milling around and chatting in smaller groups. One of them had to be the Bellas.

Her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of a head of bright red hair. She laughed and turned her head, looking in Beca's direction, and a pair of familiar blue eyes found hers.

Beca took in a sharp breath as her heart hammered in her chest, her own deep blue eyes growing wide at the sight of the redhead. A hesitant but bright smile spread across her face as she began walking towards her.

Shit, Beca thought. Here we go.