Author's Note: Okay y'all. This is where we truly enter AU territory. I'm sorry if you don't like it or if this wasn't what you were hoping for out of this story, but this was the idea that this whole story was based on. It's a little out there, I know, but just go with it.
A HUGE thank you to those who have followed, read, favorited, or reviewed. Especially Glitter, who left a review that made me excited about continuing this story.
As always...love, hate, and everything in between is appreciated it. I'm just curious about what you guys think. Just let me know!
Six years later
Beca sat on the couch across from her best friend, in the living room of her Los Angeles apartment. She was leaning back, with her face in her hands, and one knee bouncing rapidly. Normally, she'd be running her hands through her hair when this amount of anxiety was coursing through her, but she knew better than to mess up the perfect waves that her stylist had managed to achieve.
"I just feel like I need to do this Jesse," she said, her voice muffled slightly as she spoke from behind her hands.
"Beca, you really think this is a good idea?" he asked imploringly.
"Have I missed the past six years of our friendship, or aren't you the one who talks non-stop about the romanticism in the movie universe that is lacking in the real world, and grand gestures that are practically straight out of a John Hughes movie and all that?" Beca snapped back.
"I do love grand gestures, but Becs, this is like, as grand as they get. This is beyond grand. This is like, mega-grand. I care about you, and I just wanted to make sure that you've thought about this and you have considered all of the ways that it might turn out. I'm talking to you as your best friend and your manager. It might turn out really well for you, but there's a chance that it might not work out. And you have to prepare for both outcomes," Jesse said calmly, as he placed a hand gently on Beca's bouncing knee, causing it to slow its pace and finally stop moving.
If Jesse, ever the optimist, is telling me to re-evaluate then I must be crazy.
But I've gotta do this. I'm done playing it safe. It's time to sack up.
"I appreciate your concern Jess, I really do. And I know it sounds crazy, and hell, it is crazy. But that's why I need to do it. It's hard to explain. And besides, she deserves mega-grand," Beca offered with a mischievous smile.
Jesse couldn't do anything but shrug his shoulders and give his best friend a smile in return. He knew that smile Beca was wearing. It didn't show up often, but when it did, she always managed to somehow accomplish whatever it was that she set out to do; nerves and all.
"Whatever you say Becs. Listen, it's almost time. You don't want to be late to the party, and the driver should be here any minute," Jesse said as he stood up from the chaise he'd been sitting on, and straightened out the new Brooks Brothers suit that he'd had specially tailored in preparation for this event.
He was met with a grumble as Beca also rose from her seat.
"Ah, come on Becaw...it's not every day you get to go to your first GRAMMYs! And as a nominee, no less," nudging her with his elbow, playfully. "But seriously, look amazing and the people are going to love you!"
Beca looked down at the get up that she had on. Her stylist had tried to push her into wearing a number of different gowns and dresses, but Beca had flatly refused. She had always felt more awkward and weird than she normally did the few times she'd worn a dress, and so she hadn't worn one since one of her more disastrous attempts at going to school dances in junior high.
So, instead of a gown, her stylist offered a look that was more up Beca's alley. She had donned Beca in Armani; a crisp, white collared shirt tucked gracefully into the black, straight-legged tuxedo pants that stopped just above her ankle. After fitting Beca into the single button black jacket that accompanied the pants, she had finished off the outfit with a pair of black and white pumps which resembled a man's oxford shoe, aside from the 3 or 4-inch heels that were attached to the back. The stylist had been all worked up about the designer who'd offered up the shoes for free in exchange for the publicity that would result from Beca's appearance in them. Beca hadn't given two shits about Blahnik or whoever it was, but she did have to admit that she liked the tuxedo vibe that the pumps added to her look.
It was a long way from Beca's every day outfit, especially given the fact that she'd been instructed to leave the top few buttons of the button-down open to allow much more cleavage exposure than she'd ever been used to. If this is the price to pay for having made it this far, I guess that's fair enough, Beca convinced herself.
A knock on the door signaling their driver's arrival broke her from her thoughts.
"Alright then. Let's do this thing." Beca said, as she stepped out the door and into the limo with a bold determination.
Beca's nerves grew more pronounced as she and Jesse sat in the back of the limousine, while the driver struggled to make his way through downtown, fighting against the never-ending onslaught of LA traffic. As they neared the Staples Center, the streets were a-buzz with excitement.
The limo rolled to a stop in front of a long red carpet which was flanked on either side by crowds of fans and photographers. She turned to Jesse with a look he could only describe as unadulterated fear. He chuckled at seeing such a foreign emotion on his friend's face.
"You can do this Becs. You're Beca fuckin' Mitchell! The big BM! You ready?" he asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Beca replied uncertainly.
Jesse exited the limo first, so as to turn and offer his hand to Beca and help her out of the car.
As Beca's face emerged from the limousine, bright flashes took over her vision and shrill screams filled her ears. The overwhelming sensations took Beca by surprise, causing her to stumble a little on her way out of the car.
Awesome, Beca. Even with Jesse's help you can't get out of a car without making a fool out of yourself. Great way to make an entrance.
Beca could feel that a look of bewilderment sat on her face, and she straightened herself out in an attempt to regain her composure. She turned to Jesse, who offered her his arm with an encouraging look on his face. She took it gratefully, and two began their march up the carpet.
The blinding flashes, continued, and the screams failed to cease. After a few moments, her senses began to become accustomed to the crazed atmosphere, and she looked from side to side. Photographers and journalists were throwing questions at her from all angles.
"Beca! Who are you wearing?!"
"Beca, are you expecting your first big win tonight?"
"Ms. Mitchell, is this young man here with you tonight your boyfriend?"
Beca had to give a chuckle at that last one. In his dreams! Without giving any of them an answer, and only offering them her signature smirk, she turned to the fans that amassed behind the rails that ran along the carpet.
She looked over to her right, and picked out a group of teenagers that were holding a "Beca, Will You Marry One Of Us Or At Least Give Us Your Autograph?" sign. She appreciated the humor of the sign and strode over to them, earning a fresh round of shrieks from the fans surrounding them.
"Hey guys. I'm sorry, but I already have my sights set on a very special person already," giving the teens a playful wink, "but I can definitely help you out as far as signatures go," Beca said with a genuine smile. She loved interacting with fans. Not long ago she'd been in their shoes. Granted, she'd never been a crazed fan that held signs or anything...but the awe that she had felt when her career began to take off and she'd finally gotten to meet some of the people that inspired her for years was something she'd never forget. This was her favorite part of her job.
A girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen stood at the front of the rail, with her arm outstretched towards Beca, holding something in her hand. Beca took it, and looked at the object the girl handed to her. She found herself looking at a worn a copy of one of Beca's first E.P.'s. "Wow, a fan from the very beginning? I appreciate that more than you know! What's your name, dude?"
Just as the girl opened her mouth to tell Beca her name, the screams from the rest of the fans intensified ten-fold, and Beca assumed another limousine had just pulled up.
"Come again, kiddo?" Beca asked leaning closer to the girl.
"It's Chloe!" the girl responded, practically screaming at this point.
Beca instinctively whipped around, looking behind her for any sign of red hair or azure eyes. No such redhead.
She meant her name is Chloe, dumbass. Not that she sees her.
Turning back to the girl, she said, "I'm sorry. I just...nevermind. Chloe, huh? That's a special name reserved for special people." She signed the CD that the girl had given her: To Chloe, No dream is too big; never stop chasing them. Beca Mitchell.
Satisfied with her work, she handed the CD back to the girl, whose eyes were the size of dinner plates. She smiled at the girl, and moved on to sign a few more CDs, and even a couple limbs. After handing out more than a few fist bumps and high fives, she heard Jesse's voice saying, "Come on, Beca. You're needed for pictures."
"Sorry, guys, lot's of very important photos to take!" she said, scrunching her face like she'd smelled something bad, to reflect her desire to stay and play.
As Jesse led her to the backdrop where she could see a line of celebrities posing for the photographers, she thought back to her encounter with fan-Chloe. What are the chances? You've been looking for a sign, Beca. That's as good a sign as any.
When Beca was finally led in front of the backdrop, she chose to adopt the Beca Mitchell Smirk rather than give a full on smile to the cameras. She'd been in front of enough backdrops like this to know that if she tried to smile for all of them, her cheeks would begin to hurt and the smile would turn into a grimace. She dragged Jesse along beside her, and the two began their way down the line. She took most pictures with Jesse, but obliged a few photographers who wanted her pictured alone.
After a non-descript amount of time, which felt like ages to Beca, she was done with what she considered the most annoying aspect of her job.
I don't even really get these red-carpet pictures. It's the same people every time, posing the same way, only dressed in different outfits.
She and Jesse finally made their way into the interior of the Staples Center, but the noise was no less deafening. There were people milling about in all directions. There were some faces that she recognized from her few years in the industry, but most she didn't know.
She and Jesse found an area that seemed to be relatively void of people, and simply stood, taking in the sights around her. She saw people with mics on their heads, bustling around getting everything in order for the night. She recognized the faces of a few celebrities that passed in front of her. Holy shit, is that Beyonce!? Look away! Not worthy!
After a few moments, she felt a nudge on her shoulder, and turned to discover its source. She was met with flaming red hair...orange hair, really...and a bright smile that belonged to Paramore front-woman Hayley Williams. "Look who it is! Welcome to your first GRAMMYs!"
"Hey, Hayley," Beca replied, simultaneously letting out a whoosh of air from her lungs. She was secretly thankful that it was her friend that had sought her out, and not another freakin' photographer. "This is something else. How do you do this all the time?"
"It gets easier each time, no worries. Besides, you better get used to it! Especially if you bring home a win tonight. Which I'm sureee you will. I mean, come on, the album was a major success thanks to you." Hayley said, giving Beca's upper arm a light squeeze.
"Nonsense, there'd have been nothing to produce without your guys' music!" Beca replied with a smirk. She knew that a large part of the reason she was nominated for this award was the work that she'd done on the band's newest album.
"Well, either way, I'm excited to see you give that acceptance speech later. I've gotta take off. I think this shindig is about to start for real, and I've got to go find the boys. I'll see you at the after party! Bye Jesse!"
Beca and Jesse said their goodbyes, and made their way to their seats. Beca had always imagined what it would be like to be here. At the GRAMMYs. In a room with the biggest names in music. It was almost surreal.
The awards show started, and Beca sat back as award after award was given. And at last, her time was up. Ed Sheeran, and some actress Beca didn't know took the stage to present the next award. She didn't exactly catch what they were saying, as Beca's mind began to race. She was thinking about all the possible outcomes of the next minute or two.
On one hand, she could not be named the winner. And though Beca would be disappointed, she would still be completely content to sit back and support the winner. After all, this was her first nomination, and she was up against some seriously seasoned producers. She was grateful to have even been considered.
On the other hand, she might actually hear her name being called. And then she would have to make her way up to the stage, and accept the award. Beca had always felt comfortable on the stage. But that was when she was in her element; performing. Getting up in front of this group of people, and the millions who would undoubtedly be watching at home, and speaking was something else entirely. And then Beca considered that pact that she had made for herself in the event that she actually did win.
Should I seriously go through with it? I could be, no, WOULD be subjecting myself to potential nationwide embarrassment. But if it worked, it would absolutely worth it.
And then she heard it. Ed Sheeran's voice loud and clear in her mind "-winner is...BECA MITCHELL!" Apparently she had missed the entirety of the presentation as her mind was running wild. She turned to Jesse who gave her the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his goofy face.
"You did it, Becs! You won!" he said, excitedly.
"I w-won?" she asked him, genuinely confused. Her confusion dissipated as she felt spotlights find their way to her, and heads around the room turned in her direction offering whistles and applause. A cameraman made his way up the aisle to focus on her.
Oh fuck. I did it.
Beca stood, and Jesse followed suit. He embraced her in a tight hug and spoke in her ear softly enough that no one would hear, "I'm so proud of you Beca, I'll be here for you, either way." It was as if he knew the thoughts and doubts that ran through her mind moments earlier.
She grinned at him and made her way up the aisle, towards the waiting presenters.
This is it, Beca. It's now or never.
After taking the steps up to the stage very carefully, in an effort not to repeat the stumble that had occurred on her way out of the limo, she accepted the record player-shaped statute from Ed's hand, and gave a light kiss to the cheek of both Ed and the unknown actress. They stepped away from her, and Ed gestured to the microphone.
Beca turned to the audience and assumed her place at the mic. Looking out across the room, she cleared her throat and began her speech.
"Uh, hi. I honestly am in shock that I'm up here right now. I am so honored to have been placed among a group of such talented individuals, and would like to thank each of them for having inspired me for so long. I'd like to thank like, every person who has gotten me to where I am right now. Jesse, my best friend and manager. You've been with me since day one and I wish I could explain how grateful I am for everything you've done for me. Uh, my agent, all of the artists that I've had the pleasure of working with, and especially the fans! And to the fans, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support. I just want to tell you guys that with passion, dedication, and the right support system, you can achieve anything you put your mind to. I am a testament to that. I've managed to make almost every dream I've had a reality. I learned how to mix music. I got myself through college. I moved to Los Angeles to pursue this crazy dream of becoming a producer and winning GRAMMYs. And here I am. Unfortunately there's one dream that I never let myself pursue because of my own fear. So I stand before you today, to be an example. An example of someone who doesn't let their insecurities stand in the way of their dreams. And with that, I've got one person left to thank; the first person to ever hear music that I created, and the first to encourage me to follow my dreams. You gave me confidence in myself, and I don't think you even realize you did."
Beca looked straight into the camera that she knew was feeding into homes across America.
"So what I'm really trying to say is, Chloe Beale, will you go on a date with me?"
Whoomp, there it is.
The audience was silent for a moment, as if they were trying to understand what had just happened. Beca saw a few heads turn to whisper to their neighbors. Oh shit, I fucked up. And then a round of thunderous applause and cheers rang out throughout the room. Beca couldn't help the wild grin that appeared on her face.
The background music started, acknowledging that the speech had come to an end, and that Beca was to leave the stage.
She turned and headed to the wings.
Well, Beca. You either just made the smartest or most terrible decision of your life. But you did it, just like you always said you would.
Back in New York, Chloe Beale had just plopped down on her couch wearing yoga pants and a broken-in Barden University hoodie, settling in for a comfortable night of GRAMMY-watching. On her table was a freshly popped bag of popcorn, and a bowl waiting to be filled with the marijuana she had stashed away in her pocket.
Chloe never missed these awards shows, but tonight's was special. Beca had been nominated for the Producer of the Year, Non-Classical GRAMMY. She hadn't spoken to Beca in a long while, She probably doesn't even remember who I am at this point, but there was no way she was going to miss what Chloe figured would be the first of many awards for her old friend.
During a commercial break, Chloe reached into her pocket and pulled out the small bag of weed that had been stationed there. She put a sizable nug in the grinder that had sat alongside the bowl, and twisted it back and forth, breaking up the dense herb. She packed the bowl with a hefty pinch of the marijuana, and brought the bowl to her lips. She lit it and heard the familiar crackle of the herbs as they burned.
The award show came back on her television, and since the weed in her bowl had turned to ash, she set it back down on the coffee table, retrieving the bag of popcorn that sat there.
As the show came back on air, she leaned back and got reacquainted with her previous position on the couch. A live performance and a few awards later, Chloe saw Ed Sheeran and Shailene Woodley appear on the stage to present the next award.
"The time has come to present this year's nominees for Producer of the Year, Non-Classical." said Ed Sheeran, looking into the camera.
Ahhhh, this is it! Let's go, Becs!
As Shailene Woodley took over the mic, she spoke, "For their outstanding accomplishments in music production this year: Paul Epworth," the camera panned over the producer, a young man who has seemingly gone gray a little early. But it worked for him.
"...John Hill..." Woodley said, as the camera made its way to the redhead, much like Chloe herself.
"...Jay Joyce..." she continued, as the camera found a man who looked to be quite a bit older than the rest.
"...Greg Kurstin..." Woodley said, the camera again finding a man who also looked to have at least 20 years on Beca.
"...and Beca Mitchell," she finished. The camera landed on the small brunette. Chloe's heart rate jumped a little at the sight of the young producer, but that was a sensation that Chloe was so familiar with that it didn't even phase her anymore.
But, damn, she looks good. The years have treated her well, indeed.
There was an unreadable expression on the Beca's face. Almost as if she didn't even register what was happening around her.
"And this year's winner is..." Ed said, returning to the microphone.
Always dragging out the pause for dramatic effect.
"...BECA MITCHELL!" he finished, a wide smile on his face.
Oh fuck. She did it.
Chloe let out a squeal of happiness, even though there was no one in her apartment to share in her joy.
She watched as Beca stood, apparently shell-shocked that she had managed to win. Chloe knew she would. She knew Beca would be winning GRAMMYs from the first time she heard Beca's early mixes, and she hadn't let it go unknown to Beca that she felt that way.
I knew it! That girl, man. Always so insecure about her talent. Someone without ears would still be able to hear how talented she is.
She watched as Beca made her way to the stage. A flare of heat erupted in her as she fully took in Beca's attire.
Hot damn. That suit, and those shoes. Wait, stop it, Chloe! You need to stop pining. It's been too long and Beca's a celebrity now. She probably has girls throwing themselves at her left and right.
Beca finally took over the mic and Chloe left the battle in her brain to bring her attention to the brunette speaking into the mic.
"...honestly am in shock that I'm up here right now. I am so honored to have been placed among a group of such talented individuals, and would like to thank each of them for having inspired me for so long," she heard Beca speak from somewhere thousand of miles away.
Always the humble one. It was a trait Chloe admired in Beca.
"...I'd like to thank like, every person who has gotten me to where I am right now. Jesse, my best friend and manager. You've been with me since day one and I wish I could explain how grateful I am for everything you've done for me." Chloe couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of the fact that Jesse had gotten to go through this journey with Beca. But on the other hand, she was glad that Beca had a true friend that she was able to trust in, given the vicious and competitive atmosphere that the music industry entailed.
"...Uh, my agent, all of the artists that I've had the pleasure of working with, and especially the fans! And to the fans, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support. I just want to tell you guys that with passion, dedication, and the right support system, you can achieve anything you put your mind to. I am a testament to that. I've managed to make almost every dream I've had a reality. I learned how to mix music. I got myself through college. I moved to Los Angeles to pursue this crazy dream of becoming a producer and winning GRAMMYs. And here I am," came Beca's voice, from inside the TV. Chloe smiled at this. From all the online creeping that she had done, and she had done a lot (though she would never outwardly admit it), she'd figured out that Beca loves her fans. She had always found a way to connect with them on a personal level and Chloe found that so endearing. There were too many reports on celebrities who seemed to view their fans as more of a nuisance than anything else.
Figuring that was the end of Beca's speech, Chloe looked on the couch next to her to find her phone and text her best friend to find out if she, too, had seen their old friend on TV.
But Beca's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she once again drew her attention to the television. "Unfortunately there's one dream that I never let myself pursue because of my own fear. So I stand before you today, to be an example. An example of someone who doesn't let their insecurities stand in the way of their dreams. This doesn't seem to fit into a typical acceptance speech, Chloe thought, her brow furrowing.
"And with that, I've got one person left to thank; the first person to ever hear music that I created, and the first to encourage me to follow my dreams. You gave me confidence in myself, and I don't think you even realize you did." Whoa, whoa, whoa, that little weasel! She told me I was the first person her ever let hear her mixes! What a load of...
"So what I'm really trying to say is, Chloe Beale, will you go on a date with me?"
Chloe didn't react for a few seconds; she couldn't. After a moment, she grabbed her remote and rewound the playback a few seconds to make sure she had heard correctly.
Turning the volume up by ten notches, she pressed play and heard, "So what I'm really trying to say is, Chloe Beale, will you go on a date with me?"
Chloe's jaw dropped to the floor, and the bag of popcorn she was holding fell right along with it.
What. The. Fuck.
This is some sick joke the universe is playing on me, right? No. No way. People don't just do that on live national television. Especially not Beca Mitchell. Especially not to Chloe Beale.
Oh that's it. There's got to be some other Chloe Beale in the world! There ya go. Something that makes sense.
Beca had finally left the stage, and not without Chloe noticing the grin that she wore as she made her way to the wings.
The sound of the Game of Thrones ringtone that blasted from Chloe's phone brought her back to reality.
She was grateful at the name that flashed across the screen.
Swiping her thumb across the face of the phone, she immediately brought it to her ear.
"Bree? Please tell me you saw that."
Another Author's Note: Do not fret, we have not seen the last of college time Beca and Chloe. Those moments will come in the form of flashbacks and what not. I also plan to bring in the other characters from the Pitch Perfect universe soon. So...yeah.
Also, I'm not really sure how long is too long for a single chapter, so let me know if you guys think this is too much in one go. It just seemed to make sense to present both points of view in this situation.
That is all.