You are acutely aware that the burning churn in your stomach is being fueled by a mixture of annoyance and anxiety and, if you're being honest, a festering hate that is beginning to form for Jesse because he keeps bringing you to these places. These places being namely parties of people you hate, or simply do not like on the principle that you don't actually know them and they seem like a bunch of preppy assholes. Obviously by preppy assholes you mean that they hang onto one another like leeches connected at the mouth, and chant about things that most definitely could be done without chanting – without any utterances at all. And also that they have decided that Halloween is not a holiday about blending in with demons so that they don't eat your soul but instead an opportunity to see how much breast they can show without it coming loose. On second thought, that part doesn't annoy you so much. Also, you aren't really wearing a costume other than the fake smile on your face when they drunk stumble by you, so you can't judge because if there's one thing you hate more than preppy assholes, it's hypocrites.

The music is helping. The bass is flooding through your body. You've been mentally preparing songs as you drink an oddly colored liquid that you are sure you should not have picked up because, holy hell, does it smell kind of funky and, quite frankly, it tastes like ass. On the other hand, you feel kind of fuzzy and you've actually managed to keep your smile in place so it could have been the best idea you've had - as long as you don't include the elaborate mash up you've been mentally planning for the past five minutes because you can hear it in your ears and it's awesome and you need to get it down.

You're about one second away from chugging your rainbow drink extravaganza and ditching Jesse to hang out with his other, more socially acceptable friends, when a voice breaks through your haze.

"Let me guess - distasteful youth that's bored of the human existence" You laugh, and shock yourself when you realise that it's real. It's a pure unadulterated chuckle and the girl who earned it clearly knows that you don't hand those out often because she's beaming like she's caught starlight with her bare hands. Or maybe that's just her face? The latter could be true because you can't imagine her face looking any other way. Scrap that, you can quite easily imagine it scrunched up in a moment of ecstasy, other than that though…

"Spot on! And you're... "You take her look in. She'd dressed in such a way as you had just mocked a moment ago and you hate yourself for immediately thinking that she looks kind of adorable. "A cat that's late on her rent and needs to make a quick buck?" You implore innocently and she looks down at herself unabashedly as she chuckles at your comment. Your own smile only widens at the realisation that you made that sound a reality and you hate yourself immediately for letting her make your heart race.

"The packet said slutty cat but now that you mention it I think there probably is more to the story" You hide your grin in your drink just as she does, but she must be watching closely enough to notice the face you pull when you regret once again drinking whatever the hell you're drinking.

"The punch, right?" You nod and she takes the cup from your grasp, only to replace it with her hand and you swear to yourself you could have let go, but that was a lie if you ever told one because hell or high water could not have split your hand from hers and you chastised yourself for getting so attached to the warmth that her grip provided. You deafly note that she's dragged you into the kitchen and your hand all but stings when the bottles cold condensation touches your skin in a stark contrast to the heat she'd created.

"Beer?" You ask dumbly and she grins.

"Far nicer than 'Penetration Punch' in my opinion"

You twist the cap off in your palm as you question, "Penetration Punch?" You are struggling not to laugh as she sighs defeatedly and rolls her eyes good naturedly before pointing over to a group of boys that seem to be doing an extremely elaborate dance. Jesse is with them. Figures.

"Trebles, giving drinks ridiculously horrid names and tastes since the dawn of time. Amy told them it wasn't a good enough reason to incorporate the idea of penetrating, but apparently it's a tried and proved method of getting girls panties to drop"

"And you removed it from me?" She winked and you'd be lying if you said your heart didn't claw at your rib-cage before it stopped altogether. Once again you hated yourself almost immediately. What was happening to you?!

"I don't need that drink, I'm pretty confident in all this" She makes a general gesture towards her body and your brain disconnects from your mouth for a moment (if you can even claim that it was connected in the first place).

"You should be" You sigh and she laughs.

"See? I've already drawn you in with my charming personality and my totally rocking body"

"Pretty sure of yourself for someone who doesn't even know my name" Her grin is alluring, and you almost keen over at its infectious and ludicrously tactful nature.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Beca" You start.

"Either you're a magician or a stalker" She laughs.

"How about Option C – I asked your friend before I came over here" You roll your eyes because of course Jesse had something to do with this – just when you were prepared to hate the boy he delivers an insanely beautiful woman into your hands.

"And why would you do that?" She rolls her eyes this time, like you asking is the most ridiculous concept she has ever come across in her life.

"There's something about the way you distastefully watch my friends that's undeniably hot." She states confidently before she drops her eyes from yours and tugs at the costume you almost forgot she was wearing. "Plus I keep seeing you at parties and I made a bet with myself that I would stop being a chicken shit"

"I've never seen you at a party before" You wonder confusedly because honestly, as clichéd as it sounded, you would have remembered coming across her - you mean, she had the kind of face that imprinted in your mind regardless of whether or not you wanted it to linger as it did.

"That's because your head is always in the clouds, Bec" You shrug because you can't deny that, although you feel a little like you're in the clouds right now and you're angry at yourself for letting her affect you in this way, for letting her get under your skin so quickly. Except, you're not. Not really. In fact, you're kind of high on the fact that you've never felt this way before. You've never felt so energized.

"I guess it's only fair that you tell me your name then…"

"Chloe" She fills in. You repeat it aloud. You repeat it a few times in your head afterwards. You whisper it against her mouth later on when she pushes you against your apartment door. Except, by then it sounds less like a name and more like a prayer.