Quiet

A Pitch Perfect Story

Part I of III

Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.

Song Recommendation: Quiet by Demi Lovato

Author's Note: Holy crap, you guys! You all made my day with your reviews. I am so glad that you all enjoyed the Beca/Bumper friendship! I will have to do something with that later on. You guys are too much. I hope that you enjoy them! This one is a little shorter than the others. For the sake of these two-shots, the almost-kiss never happened. This is set before and during that scene. *Revised: Now a three-part storyline**

Beca Mitchell always built up walls around herself; she pushed people away when they got too close. It began after her parents' divorce, because her mom was crying all of the time and she was suddenly expected to be the mature one—the one who listen and hugged and petted and cooed soft words over and over. She became the adult when she was barely twelve years old. Beca knew that her mom was going through a bad time, and she wanted to help her. She wanted to be the one that fixed her mom's broken heart. But, in the back of her mind, this whole experience showed her just what a farce love really was. If love existed, then her dad wouldn't have left her and her mom. If love existed, then Beca wouldn't spend her evenings for a year holding her mom in her arms as she cried over her failed marriage. If love existed her dad wouldn't have moved on so quickly from her mom and married the she-beast, Sheila. (Okay, so maybe it was three years later, but it was still too soon.)

Things with her dad had never really recovered. Beca was too busy being the mom to her own mother, and she didn't have time to deal with her dad's "it just didn't work out between your mom and me" explanations for why he suddenly decided that he couldn't be married to her mom anymore. She hated him when he tried to text her or call her or email her. He always tried to make plans with her, but it was easier to be mad at him, because he wasn't around anymore. It was easier to blame him when a huge part of her blamed herself. And, yeah, she knew, in the back of her mind, that her parents' problems weren't her fault, but ask any kid with divorced parents, and they will tell you that there is always a part of them that wonders if they had just been a little better or didn't talk back as much or something, then maybe the parentals would still be together. She and her father barely talked, and when it came time for college versus moving to LA, she expected her dad not to care if she packed up all of her stuff and moved across the country. But, he majorly cared. Like, he called and freaked out at her (she hung up on him). Then, he called her mom and freaked out at her (she hung up on him, too). Even though her mom hung up on her dad, she still told Beca that she had to go to college, because she couldn't afford to help her move to LA, and since her dad was refusing to help, there were only two options left. Beca either went to college for free thanks to Dr. Mitchell's tenure at Barden University, or she lived at home and got a couple of part-time jobs until she saved up money to move across the country. She figured that it would be easier to go to school for free and get her dad to help her move across the country when she was done than it would be for her to have to save up everything while living at home. That would take forever. So, Beca was Barden University bound. Thank God her dad taught at a school that had a music production and engineering major, or else she would get absolutely nothing out of four years of her life.

What she didn't expect was that she would join the Bellas and actually like being in an a cappella group. Sure, she had always loved music, but she had always thought musicals were stupid. She thought the show Glee was stupid. She thought Broadway was stupid. She thought all of that was stupid. She liked to listen to music, to play with it by making her own remixes, and to lounge around in her pajamas on Sunday afternoons while music was playing in the background, but she didn't use it as a way to work through her feelings or to get a person to fall in love with her or to breakup with someone or any of the other bullshit that is involved in those stupid musical shows and movies and plays. She didn't randomly break out into song in the middle of the hallway. She thought all of that was dumb.

The Bellas weren't like all of those musicals that she made fun of, though. As Aubrey had said on the first day of school, they were just a bunch of ladies singing and dancing in synchronicity. They didn't use the songs they chose (well, Bellas from a decade ago chose the songs) to speak to people. They just sang and danced and tried to win competitions. Beca liked how good the Bellas sounded together. She liked how Fat Amy would make a joke about how Bumper looks like a sausage link or how she has wrestled dingoes and was the only person with teeth where she was from. She liked how Stacie would make a comment about how her vagina—Peter, in case anyone was wondering what his name was (Amy named it)—made her have sex with the gross guy in her introductory English class with a unibrow. (In reality, Beca thinks that girl is a textbook example of a person with a sex addiction.) She even liked saying things that would make Aubrey's eyes get wide, the vein in her neck grow large, and her face get bright red before she had choke back the vomit from the stress she was putting herself under. It was really funny to watch, and poor Chloe would rub her back, whispering the same soothing words Beca used to whisper to her mom after the divorce, "it's going to be okay; everything is going to work out." For the first time in a long time, Beca found herself lowering her defenses. She didn't have a lot of girlfriends, but she found herself wanting to hang out with them when Beca rehearsals were over—she found herself actually wanting to be friends with these girls, which was something totally new for her.

You see, Beca liked boys. She liked boys more because they were easier to deal with. They didn't constantly talk about what celebrity dating who, what style of jeans made her ass look great versus fat, how obnoxious their significant other was for taking them to the wrong type of movie or to McDonalds on their anniversary. She didn't like hearing or talking about all of that bullshit. Even though boys were easier to deal with, Beca didn't have a lot of guy friends, either. She didn't like movies. Sports weren't her cup of tea. She didn't know much about cars and had no interest learning about engines or anything like that. She liked music—any and every kind of music. She liked tattoos. She liked modern art. These were Beca's interests, and there weren't many guys who would be willing to go to a museum with her or talk the intricacies of some band's latest single. They would get bored after awhile, so she spent most of her time in her room mixing songs. Beca certainly didn't do relationships. She barely did dates. No, Beca was like a dude (similar to the way that Peter—Stacie's vagina—was a dude)—she hooked up and moved on when she needed to scratch that itch. In her opinion, romance was dead—or never really existed at all.

That all changed, though, when Beca got to Barden. The first time she saw Jesse she had just gotten out of the taxi, wanting those last few moments of freedom before being trapped under her father's thumb. He was acting like a total asshole, leaning out the car window, serenading her. Did he seriously get dates that way? She tried to keep her amusement off of her face—she couldn't encourage a dweeb like him; she was not interested. The second time she saw Jesse—this time actually speaking to him—was in the radio station. He made jokes about how they were bound to become lovers and that she better tap that before he became too busy for her, because he was definitely going to become a Treblemaker. Again, he amused her—he was confident (dare she say cocky?) in his ability to woo her. More than anything, she thought he was a total nerd, a real cheese ball. He was the dorky kind of cute that made girls blush—if Beca was a girl like that. But, she wasn't. So, she thought he was an idiot, and she told him as much.

Beca spent much of their first three shifts together (on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from two-thirty to six in the evening) at the radio station ignoring him. He would make jokes about Luke's overly-muscular physique (according to Jesse, Luke was compensating for a small penis by building up all of those muscles, or he was on steroids to help him get and stay fit, which resulted in the shriveling and shrinking of the British man's testicles) or about how he was actually living out his lifelong dream of stacking CDs. No matter what he did, though, Beca barely cracked a smile for those first three days. (Sometimes it was hard, because he was just that much of an idiot that she felt the need to laugh in his face, but somehow she found the strength to restrain herself.) Eventually, he got the message that she wasn't interested in his idle chitchat when she started listening to her mixes on her phone.

The third time Beca actually spoke to Jesse was when they were at hood night. He was drunk by the time that she had gotten there with the other Bellas for their aca-initiation. He was climbing over the outdoor benches like a uncoordinated monkey. She actually became concerned for his well-being when she saw him making his way towards her, holding a beer in one hand and calling out her name several times before making it into some kind of bird call. Beca figured that she would appease Jesse just this once by providing some light conversation this time around. (He was probably too drunk to remember it in the morning, so it wouldn't be encouraging for him.) It was the first time that she touched him, too, and she was surprised by the shiver that ran down her spine when her fingers grazed his chest. She didn't understand what all that was about, but she let him getting her a drink. Once again, he climbed his way down the benches rather than using the stairs like a normal person would. She hoped that he was careful, though, because she didn't want to have his maiming or death on her conscience.

The Monday following hood night at the radio station, Beca didn't wear her headphones. Jesse noticed, but he only chatted with her occasionally, making some asinine comments about the songs that Luke was playing or about when the last time the desk had been disinfected. He primarily sang along with the music and made faces at her over the records or CDs. Wednesday and Friday followed suit, with Jesse gradually increasing the amount of conversation towards her. She was still her snarky, bitchy self, but he didn't seem to mind and gave it back to her almost as good as she gave it to him. It was getting harder and harder for Beca not to laugh at his stupid jokes or child-like comments about the beauty of the Beatles and how the Biebs is really misunderstood as an artist and an icon.

One Tuesday morning, Beca came out of her math class that began at eight in the morning to find Jesse walking up holding a coffee in one hand and a paper bag with a blueberry muffin inside of it in the other. She was miserable, because whoever decided to have a required math general education course at eight in the morning should be water-boarded or electrocuted or something, because they are obviously fascists or the spawn of Satan or something. She was never more relieved in her life to see him (more accurately, his coffee), and she latched onto it like a newborn latches onto the breast. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she moaned in appreciation, sipping the heavenly liquid like her life depended on it. She ignored his chuckles and dug into the bag for what had to be the best looking and smelling blueberry muffin in the world. (She didn't know how he knew that blueberry muffins were her favorite, or that she liked her coffee black with only one creamer cup in it, but that is something that she would ask him some other time.) She mumbled her thank you around the mouthful of blueberry deliciousness, making him crinkle his nose in disgust. It turned into a thing for them—every Tuesday and Thursday morning, she would leave her class to find him waiting for her with a coffee and a muffin. (He tried a scone once, but she pouted like a child and made him walk her to the amazing coffee shop where he got her breakfast in the morning to buy her a blueberry muffin instead; she was surprised to learn that it was not Starbucks, but some mom-and-pop coffee shop just off-campus. He ate the scone and agreed that muffins are way better.)

Beca didn't know what to say when Jesse threw a juice pouch at her and sat down next to her on the quad. She had been listening to her music and trying to focus on her assigned reading on Aristotle's expostulations about life, which she found to be completely boring and made her wonder why anyone would be interesting in majoring in all this philosophical bullshit. She was definitely not an existentialist, she had determined after taking this dumb class. He laid the towel down next to her, pulling a candle (what?), a box of pretzels, and a stack of movies from his bag, all the while talking about how much he enjoys stacking CDs with her, but he thought that they could do something more fun. Beca made a jab at his obvious lack of game in terms of relationships by saying that his girlfriend must love him and then pretended to be shocked when Jesse said that he didn't have one. His reaction to her confession about not liking movies was comical, and she had to admit, she was curious what this movication would be like. She didn't know why, but she was finding him more and more charming, and it was making her feel strange.

Beca tried to ignore the weird twinges in her stomach when Jesse directed lines of the songs at the Riff-Off towards her, which only made Aubrey more pissed and her more uncomfortable with the attention he was giving her. She didn't do relationships, and she really had no interest in pursuing him. She was honestly flattered by his attention towards her—that is all. It was amusing, more than anything. She knew that eventually she would have to set the record straight, but for now, she was going to let him flirt his ass off in the nerdiest of ways. It was just fun, right?

Somehow, their Tuesday-Thursday breakfast tradition turned into Beca commenting about how hungry she was after one of their Friday shifts ended at the radio station. Jesse responded that he could eat. They were the last ones to leave, putting away the final crate of CDs and records from the Thursday and Friday shows. They walked to a little pizza shop off-campus. Beca told him how much she loved pizza, but hated fast-food, because the burgers always tasted like cardboard. Jesse told her that his favorite diner to eat at was in his hometown, and it was themed around a fifties-era malt and burger shop. According to him, she hadn't lived (or eaten a good burger) until she ate a burger from that diner, and the milkshakes were beyond amazing, too.

This, too, turned into a tradition. They would be the last to leave the radio station in the evenings, and they would walk to the pizza shop or the dining hall or a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Jesse would walk her home at night, and Beca could tell that that he was always hoping that she would invite him in. While she figured that he would be up for sex if she offered, she knew that it wasn't sex what he was looking for. He was hoping that she would drop all of her walls and let him kiss her—to show that she was interested in him the same way that he was interested in her. Beca couldn't do that, though. She didn't want a relationship; she didn't want the farce that people refer to as love. She couldn't ruin what they had by turning it into something she was so sure didn't exist. She would give Jesse a sad smile and tell him that she would see him later; she would ignore the look of disappointment that flashed over his face for a moment before he slid his goofy, happy mask back into place. Sometimes he would ruffle her hair with his hand before dodging her punch and making his way down the hall and out of her building. (She also would ignore the way that her heart would beat a little bit faster when he would hesitate by her door every time he walked her home. Or, the way that it would take her forever to fall asleep that night, because her stomach would churn as she would remember the disappointment on his face.)

One Friday night during their dinner, Jesse asked her about the flash drives that she was always giving to Luke. Beca told him that she made her own mixes of songs, and she was giving him copies in case Luke ever wanted to play one of them on the radio. The next night, she was relieved that Kimmie Jin decided to go to one of her friends' room for once, so she could mix to her heart's content without being forced to wear her headphones or to feel the looks of disdain that came from her roommate for disturbing the Korean bonding. The Bellas had off for once, because Chloe's nodes were hurting her worse than ever, and Aubrey's parents were in town for the weekend. The knock on her door made her jump nearly three feet into the air. (She was sure that she actually levitated for a moment.) Beca hadn't been expecting anyone that night, so she wasn't sure who would be knocking on her door then. She paused the music and made her way to the door, opening it hesitantly. She found herself laying her eyes on the grinning face of Jesse, and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

Jesse wanted to hear her music, but he was clutching his laptop against his chest, and she didn't know why. Beca showed her the latest mix she was working on, and then rolled her eyes when he pulled a copy of The Breakfast Club out of the thin air, telling her that he wanted to watch her watch the end of it, claiming that he would die a hero. She rolled her eyes at him, thinking for what was probably the ten-thousandth time that he was such a nerd. She watched him get comfortable in her bed, getting the movie ready in his laptop. Beca needed to get some semblance of control back, so she commented on his ability to make himself at home no matter where he was before reluctantly making her way to sit down on the other side of his laptop on her bed. (She was a little miffed that he got to snuggle up in her pillows, while she was forced to sit without anything to lean on.)

Beca was simultaneous thankful of the fact that Jesse turned out the light (so he wouldn't see her blush—she seemed to be blushing a lot more around him lately) and uncomfortable (because she didn't like that she was blushing around him more). She settled down beside him, resting her eyes on the screen of his laptop. He told her all about how Billy Idol was an idiot for giving up the song and how perfect the ending was for the movie, so she had to make fun of him and his obsessive knowledge of all things Breakfast Club related, to which he responded with gross comments about morning dumps. His "fun" facts were not actually fun at all, in her opinion, and she told him as much.

Beca found herself watching him more than the ending of the movie. She couldn't help it, because Jesse was mouthing the words and so very into it. It wasn't until that moment that she allowed herself to feel the things that she had been forcing down for so long since she had met him. His eyes would stray towards her, knowing that she wasn't paying attention to the movie. She couldn't help the small smile that slipped onto her lips when she saw him making a fist to go with the movie. He turned to face her then, telling her that she was missing the movie.

"Sorry," Beca said, turning to finally face the screen again, but Jesse watched her this time. She casually glanced at him, wondering if this was the moment when he was finally going to make his move. While a huge portion of her still wanted to keep up her walls around herself, because there is no such thing as love, another large part of her wanted him to finally grow a pair and to kiss her. It was completely silent aside from the movie playing, and they stared each other down for a few moments before their eyes began to migrate south to the other's lips. Beca couldn't think straight. Her mind was a swirling black hole of conflicting thoughts. Half of her brain was telling her that if Jesse didn't kiss her, she was going to kill him and chop his body up into pieces so that he was never found. The other half of her mind was screaming that if he did kiss her, she was going to kill him and chop up his body so that no one would ever be able to find him. She tried to tell herself that it was the lust that was controlling the half of her brain that wanted him to kiss her, because it had been over three months since she had hooked up with anyone. Beca just needed to get that itch scratched, but it couldn't be with Jesse, because that would complicate things too much. He didn't make a move though, and she knew that he was waiting for her to do it. He was always waiting for her to make the first move, because he didn't want to pressure her too much. He was just that kind of guy. (What he didn't know was that he was going to wait forever.)

Beca was partially relieved that he didn't make a move, because she didn't do relationships. Jesse was definitely a relationship-guy, and she wasn't that kind of girl. He had been working so hard to gradually break down her walls until she felt comfortable talking with him, hanging out with him, and sharing personal things about her life with him, so he wasn't going to just immediately fall into bed with her and be fine with just the occasional hookup. He was looking for the hand holding, kissing each other goodnight after a date, snuggling on a blanket out on the quad, bringing her flowers and candies on Valentine's Day kind of guy. His brow pinched, and she knew that he was having some big internal battle about whether or not he should throw caution to the wind and kiss her, rather than waiting for her to do it, but he held back—he waited, hoping that she would be the one to drop the final walls and let him in.

She looked away from him then, turning to the computer to pause the movie. "I…uh…it's good. I'm sure the beginning was—" Beca broke off, because the door opened then, and Kimmie Jin was coming in with a couple of her friends. She could tell that Jesse was confused beside her—disappointed—maybe even hurt that she didn't kiss him (or at least imply that a kiss would not be unwelcomed). She was flustered, jumping up and moving away from the bed to her desk again, running her hands through her hair.

"And, I'm out," he said, closing his laptop and grabbing the empty DVD case from the bed. He stood up, grabbing his laptop and the case into his hands. He made his goodbyes, giving her one final look before walking away.

Beca sat down at her desk, sliding her headphones over her ears and began to work on her mixes. She kept raising the volume of the music, trying to drown out the thoughts in her head. For some reason, she was finding it impossible to quiet them down.

Author's Note 2: I know you guys are bummed, but I promise the next chapter will more than make up for it, though. For the next part of this two-shot set, imagine that everything happened as it did in the movie, except at the end, there was no kiss. The song was just a way for Beca to show him that she missed him as a friend, and instead of kissing him, she apologized for being an ass and pushing him away. She also asked him if they could go back to being friends again. I hoped that you liked this one. I recommend that you listen to this song, because it is awesome! I am hoping to have part II out by the afternoon! XOXOXO