A/N: For those wondering why Luke is listed as a main character, here's a short chapter from his POV.
Thump-thump-THUMP.
You turn away from the stack of records you're inspecting—bloody interns can't get their genres right—and see the familiar silhouette of a woman with wavy hair holding up two steaming cups of what you hope is proper English tea. You walk over to the studio door and push it open.
"To what do I owe this very late pleasure of your visit, madam?" you greet with your signature smirk.
If it had been any other person, you would have told them to fuck off. But this is Chloe Beale, your best—and pretty much only—friend in Barden.
It also helps that she's bringing me tea in the middle of the night.
"What, I can't swing by the radio station on a weekend to bring my best mate a cup of his favorite tea?" she says, overemphasizing her accent on the word 'mate' like she always does.
You squint your eyes at the cup. "English Breakfast?"
"Yes, you stereotypical Englishman!" she says exasperatedly. "It is English Breakfast. And I specifically told them to pour the milk first, just the way you like it!"
She holds the cup out to you expectantly. You roll your eyes and reach out. The moment your skin touches the cardboard sleeve, however—
"Great, now you owe me one!"
"Chloe."
"I just need the roof deck," she says quickly. "I'll be careful! Not like last time…"
"You mean the time you ruined my Japanese water fountain?"
You are very protective of the rooftop garden you have worked hard to cultivate since the day the University gave you access and control over all this building's facilities. You are even more protective of it whenever Chloe feels the urge to tinker with every little thing she finds.
"I said I was sorry! I didn't think moving it a little bit would ruin the whole thing!"
"It's called balance, Chloe, I don't understand why you would—"
"Okay, this could go on forever!"
You smile because you very well know how these conversations go. You have your back and forth until eventually Chloe pulls out the big guns.
"Please, Luke? I really need it tonight."
Wait. No big blue, puppy dog eyes? No overly cutesy voice? Worst of all, no pout?
You look at her normally bright blue eyes and instead find pleading blue pools.
Uh-oh. She's not handling it as well as she's been pretending to.
She turns away so you can't see her eyes anymore. You're familiar with this tactic of hers so you just walk over to your desk inside the booth and throw her the keys wordlessly. She rushed up to you and gives you a peck on the cheek as thanks while you lean against the doorframe, eyes following her as she ascends the staircase leading to your precious roof.
The cheeriness that had filled the room when she arrived earlier is now replaced by a soul-sucking sadness that can only come from a broken heart.
You turn back inside the booth and begin lining up a couple of songs. As a radio DJ, you always imagine the effect the music you play has on the listener. You imagine who's listening, what they're doing, and what the music means to them. It may be a song whose lyrics never meant anything to you until one particular moment when it matches up with your life, or just an upbeat song that you can almost feel pumping through your veins. The right song at the right time, you think, can change the way you feel about things.
Tonight you're hoping your playlist works its magic on the girl upstairs.
Once you're confident that the lineup could last a solid hour, you follow Chloe's footsteps and head to the roof, currently illuminated by a few street lamps and the moonlight.
You find her leaning against the ledge, staring out. You're certain she's in deep thought and not really looking at anything because Barden doesn't provide that much of a view, which is why you designed your rooftop garden to look perfect, even at night.
You press on a light switch near the staircase and the lights flicker on in succession. You are quite proud of the result of your eccentric collection of lamps, light bulbs, and Christmas lights. The garden was now a majesty of color, but it was a kind of majesty that was not imposing but rather soothing. The colors were not vibrant; they were twinkling with some sort of magical wisdom.
Chloe turns around when she notices the change in illumination and, like your garden, her face lights up.
"Wow, Luke! This is beautiful…" She looks around with her mouth gaping in awe. "I can't believe you did this."
You shrug humbly at her praise.
"Back in England, I lived in this boring neighborhood where rich, old, business people lived," you explain as you approach her. "They never seemed to have the time to decorate their houses during Christmas so our street looked as dull as ditchwater. One day my sister and I asked our parents for money and we went around the shops buying all sorts of colorful lights. We hung them around our house and lit them up every night, even when it wasn't the holidays."
"That's so cute," she smiles.
"If anyone ever asks, I'm telling them that you did this," you say quickly, gesturing around your majestic garden. "In exchange, you get to come here whenever you like."
"Deal," she laughs.
You know she's not going to start talking without a little coaxing so you take matters into your own hands and get straight to the point. "Why are you here, Chloe?"
She looks at you with a confused expression that you don't buy. It's nearly midnight on a Friday; Chloe, being Chloe, would have better things to do than hang around her radio DJ friend. Seeing your raised eyebrows, she slumps her shoulders and sighs.
"Aubrey… has a visitor." She leans back against the ledge, facing you and your garden of lights.
You join her over there and mimic her position. Seeing it from this angle, you feel a twinge of pride that your rooftop garden is indeed a better view than Barden's campus at night.
"I'm sorry," you offer, because it's the only thing you can. "That must be tough."
She doesn't answer right away.
"I couldn't… I just wish they didn't have so much fun, you know." She lets out a bitter laugh, something that you decide you never want to hear from Chloe again. "It's like they're rubbing it in my face—but I know they're not. They're just really happy. I have no right."
You see her eyes begin to water, and she glances up and takes a deep breath to calm herself down.
Silly girl, you don't need to put on a brave face for me.
"After…" She breathes deeply again. "After that night, I wondered… if I had told her sooner—before the finals, like you said…" She waves a hand at you. You can feel the painful regret from her words.
"But, oh," she continues in a forcedly dull tone. "It doesn't matter, because even if I did, she doesn't want me. Apparently we're too different."
You give her a questioning look—you told her?
The sad, watery smile you get in return tells you that the answer is a yes, and also that it didn't end well.
"You idiot!" you groan.
"Wow, thanks for that, best friend."
"I thought you were all right with it? After your talk with Amy, didn't you say you were going to give them a shot? Why all of a sudden would you tell her? You know it only could have ended badly."
She just shakes her head miserably. "I don't know. I guess I just wanted answers… Jesse said—"
"You took Jesse's advice?" you chastise her.
Chloe throws her hands up exasperatedly. "He wanted me to get closure."
You shake your head in disappointment.
"But what I don't get is," she suddenly continues in frustration, "her reasons for not wanting to be with me. I deserve better? What the fuck does she know?"
She runs a hand through her hair and grips it tightly—painfully.
"But I can't think like that! Aubrey is my best friend, and she is good for Beca… They challenge each other."
The soft chuckle she emits is another nastily bitter one, as though she doesn't want to believe what she's saying.
"What I tried to be for both of them, they found in each other," she says quietly. "That's what hurts the most because where does that leave me? I know it's selfish to even think this but—who's looking out for me, Luke?"
Her voice wavers at the question and she finally breaks down. You reach out and catch her in your arms before she sinks to the ground. She grabs the front of your shirt and cries into your chest.
"My heart is breaking… and I can't tell the people closest to me because they're the cause of it. And it's selfish to include them in my pain," she sniffs in between sobs. "What am I supposed to do, Luke?"
"Well, first, you cry," you say, as though it's the most obvious thing. "You're allowed to feel hurt, Chloe. You're not being selfish."
A fresh wave of sobs overcomes her and you patiently, gently rub her back until she's calmed down.
"Next, you smack yourself on the head for forgetting that your best guy friend is always just a radio station away." You kiss the top of her head fondly. "I'm always looking out for you, Chloe."
The arm wrapped around your torso tightens affectionately.
"Sidebar: a lot of other guys are probably looking at you, too, so don't turn to them in your current state of emotional distress," you lecture. "That means no sleeping around."
"Well, there goes my weekend…"
You poke her in the ribs to show that you're serious.
At least she's got her sense of humor back.
"Ow! Don't worry, I won't," she amends.
"Good." She's still pressed against your chest so you look down and brush a clump of hair that stuck to her wet cheek. "Finally, you start moving on, not necessarily by forgetting her but by remembering you. You were a half decent person when we met four years ago—" You get a poke in your own ribs for that. "—and nothing's changed. Remember what it's like to not be in love. Remember what it's like to be excited for your own self. Remember the life you had before Beca Mitchell."
You let your words sink in while playing with a lock of her hair.
"You know, if this whole DJ thing doesn't work out for you, you could write for Cosmo in their 'Sex & Relationships' department."
You laugh, causing her head to jerk off your chest. "Hey, it's Ground Force or nothing."
You go on to explain to a confused Chloe the secret world of competitive gardening in British reality TV, and also how you managed to light up the roof deck all by yourself. You keep talking about random gardening-related things until her laughs gradually become more genuine, and sooner than later you're both in stitches imagining ridiculous scenarios when gardening could be a useful skill.
Things quiet down naturally and Chloe ends up falling asleep on your lap. Running your hand through her hair is as comforting for you as it is for her, which is why you're also starting to doze off. But you shake away the sleepiness, remembering that you still have a 24-hour radio station to run. You lift her in your arms and carry her down the stairs carefully. It doesn't look like she'll be waking up until the morning so you lay her on the couch you keep in the booth and cover her up with a poncho a previous date left behind.
You hear the door to the station click shut and look up from the screen of your laptop, currently open to the station's Twitter feed. Natalie Cole's 'This Will Be' is playing as part of the station's morning playlist.
"Hey, Jesse," you yell, greeting the freshman currently placing his bag on the table beside the door.
The eager brunette skipped toward the booth and stopped at the door, dangling his heels off the short steps excitedly. Clearly your 'no freshmen allowed in the booth' rule sticks.
"Hey, dude, so am I still up for today?"
You recently gave Jesse his own morning segment on WBUJ where he discusses and plays music in films. To be honest, you're giving it to him as a distraction from what happened with Becky but you can't deny the guy has the talent and charm, and you wouldn't be surprised if his segment became successful. Plus, it only seems fair that you give both your freshmen interns a shot at the booth. Call it growth on your part.
"Yeah, you go on at half past eight, just after the morning playlist," you turn back to your laptop and frown at a follower's recent reply. "If this does well we can move you to a better slot. Are you free over the summer?"
He doesn't answer so you take a glance toward the door and see Jesse eyeing the couch.
"Is that…?"
"Oh, yeah, that's Chloe," you say indifferently, turning back to the screen. "From the Bellas."
"Yeah, I'm familiar," he says in a hushed tone. "What is she doing here? Was she waiting for me?"
You snort involuntarily. "No, she was here last night."
"What for—wait, did you two hook up?"
"No, mate, she's like my sister," you recite dully. You've been asked this so many times when going out with Chloe that you've decided to come up with a standard reply. "Could you come here and deal with this Twitter thing?"
"Shouldn't you turn the music down? Chloe might wake up," he says as he leans over your shoulder.
"Nah, she's slept through the bomb threat in our sophomore year; a little loud music wouldn't—it was just a hoax!" you quickly clarify in response to Jesse's alarmed expression. "But yeah, everyone had evacuated campus and she was just dozing away and missed around thirty calls. Aubrey was livid."
"Oh, so you're friends with Aubrey, too?" Jesse says dryly.
You raise an eyebrow at him. "So is this going to be a 'friend of my enemy is an enemy' kind of thing?" you smirk. "Whatever it is that's going on with your personal lives, leave me out of the mess."
"Right. Sorry," he says sheepishly.
"But that does remind me…" You glance at the clock. "Chloe has a meeting with her career counselor in an hour, I should probably wake her."
You get off your chair and approach the sleeping redhead. You pinch her nose—a brutish but effective method of waking her up—and let her bat your hand away.
"Luke! I asked you to stop doing that!" she groans. She takes a moment to rub her nose before throwing the poncho off. "Ooh, this is nice. Whose is this?"
"Some girl I went on a date with last term. Jesse's here, by the way."
She shoots up in embarrassment and uses her hand to comb through her bed hair.
"Oh! Hi, Jesse!" She give him a wave, which he returns. You wonder if they had spoken since he gave her that terrible advice. "Sorry for, well, ruining your morning."
"No, no. It started off with WBUJ's awesome morning playlist so I'll definitely be in a good mood all day," he grins.
She puts on an impressed look and turns to you. "You've trained him well."
The three of you share a brief laugh. This moment ranks pretty high on the most awkward things to have happened during your stay in America, so you end it early. "Chloe? Your meeting?"
"Oh, right. I better go then. Where are my shoes?"
You nod toward the shelf beside the couch. "Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?"
"Nah, I think I'll grab some breakfast and just head straight to it. Thanks anyway." She pecks you on the cheek as a goodbye. "Nice seeing you, uh, again, Jesse." She turns to wave at him but pauses at his amused expression. "What?"
"This is so weird. Are you sure you two aren't dating? You seem very close."
"Gross, no! He's like my brother!"
Gross? That's a new addition to the script.
"Gross?" you ask with a raised brow.
She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. Although I have seen your penis."
"What! When?" you and Jesse both screech, although yours is more in shock and his is more in amusement.
You scowl at the freshman, not really liking the direction this conversation is taking. Chloe is unraveling your calm and cool persona.
"The chubby baby pictures your mom showed me."
And she's making it worse.
"Okay! I think I will walk you out now." You curl your fingers around her upper arm and drag her outside the booth. "And you," you turn to Jesse, who immediately wipes the laugh off his face, "a little less Gossip Girl and a little more Mad Men, if you please. Fix that Twitter thing."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Chloe only stops cackling once you're outside.
"Not cool, ginger biscuit. You're completely ruining my reputation—in front of a freshman no less!"
"I'm sorry," she says, still smiling. "What was that Twitter thing?"
"Oh, it's just another follower wondering why I keep turning down his requests."
"Well, why do you?"
"I don't think the artist is respectable."
"If you only play the music of respectable artists you'd be left with a pretty unpopular library," she jokes. "But seriously, you run a radio station whose tagline is 'Music for the Independent Mind.' Don't you think your listeners have the right to make their own musical decisions?"
That's quite a good point.
"I knew I shouldn't have told you about it," you grumble and she laughs. "And sorry, by the way, for not waking you up earlier. I completely forgot I gave Jesse the eight AM segment."
"No, that's okay. I don't feel that awkward around Jesse anymore," she says, hooking her arm around your elbow as you begin walking to the campus administration buildings.
"Is it because you saw how much of a wimp he really is?"
"Don't be mean! He's just sensitive. You could learn a thing or two from him."
"What?" you scoff. "I'm a proper gentleman! How can you say I'm not sensitive?"
"Well, for one thing, you shouldn't call a girl an idiot when she's breaking under the pressure of a heartbreak," she says with a punch to your arm.
You pretend it hurts; she laughs. It's your thing.
"I did it because I know you, Chloe Beale, and I always know what you need and when you need it," you smirk down at her. "Last night, you needed tough love, so I gave it to you. Now, don't you feel better after all that?"
Chloe lifts her chin defiantly. "Not as much as if you told me that I'm the smartest, prettiest person in the whole universe and that everything I do is a testament to my awesomeness."
You shake your head in amusement and take a quick glance around. It's eight o'clock on a Saturday morning; the campus is empty.
"Very well, then." You clear your throat to begin your overdramatic declaration. "Chloe Beale, you are the wisest, most beautiful woman from this side of the universe to the other. Every awesome move you make takes my breath away—"
You stop talking so loudly when you turn a corner and spot a familiar face.
"Aubrey?"
The blonde turns around and sighs in relief. "Chloe! I've been looking for you all morning!"
You watch as Aubrey darts forward and wraps Chloe in a hug. Chloe gives you a confused look over Aubrey's shoulder. "Is everything all right, Bree?"
"You tell me!" Aubrey pulls back and her voice is immediately scolding. "You haven't been answering your phone!"
What a coincidence—this is just like the day of the bomb threat.
"This is the second night in a row you haven't spent at home, I was worried," Aubrey says in that shrill voice of hers. "Where have you been—?" She turns to you with her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Do I know you?"
You hold out your hand politely like the gentleman you claim to be. "Yes, hi, I'm Luke. We've actually met several—"
"Aren't you Beca's boss?"
"Ah. Yes, that's what I'm best known by around here, actually. I sometimes go by Jesse's boss, too."
Chloe stifles a giggle and warns you with a look. You don't know why you added the bit about Jesse. Maybe it was to punish Aubrey just a little bit.
Aubrey looks unfazed, however, gives you a once-over, and—after she deems me worthy, I assume—turns back to Chloe. "Are you going through something right now, Chloe?" she asks in concern.
Chloe puts on a reassuring expression and insists, "No! I just wanted to give you and Beca some space to be intimate, you know?"
You give Chloe two thumbs up from behind Aubrey's back to tell her that it was a great response. Chloe smiles at you again, which causes Aubrey to turn back to you with a calculating look.
"We're just friends," you say, finally clearing the tension between you and your best friend's best friend. "I was walking her to the counselor's office—"
"That's why I came looking for her," she says, not taking her eyes off you. "I wanted to make sure she didn't miss her appointment because," she turns back to Chloe and says in a much softer tone, "Chloe, you're my best friend and I'll always be looking out for you, no matter who I date. You don't need to give me and Beca space; part of the reason this works is because we're all each other's best friends, right?"
You watch Chloe carefully for her reaction—
It's a soft nod and a smile. "Right."
You let out the breath you've been holding while the two women embrace each other once more. You catch Chloe's eye over Aubrey's shoulder and smile.
See? Things are going to be just fine for you.
Her eyes have a bittersweet softness to them and you know that it's her way of letting you know that she's thinking the same.
A/N: I combined the last two chapters into one so there's only the next chapter + Epilogue left. And then I can finally be done with this story!
Thank you, Alice, for the review. :)
