Chapter 9 Absences and Arrivals
Two empty chairs sit next to one another. Two empty, metal chairs, parallel.
These two chairs were stark, and bare. Old-looking, dented. Perhaps even a hint of rust. Two lonely chairs sat facing a vast sea of empty seats. An empty audience mirrored the two. For some reason, the empty audience section did not seem noticeable. Not like these two chairs. They all, however, lacked an ass.
What was interesting was that there were bright colors nearby. The colors, short, tall, wide…all circled around the two chairs. They shuffled, groaned, giggled, sang. They brought their own chair. This, of course, drew more attention to the two outcast seats. It was a focal point, and somewhat of a distraction.
"We need better chairs." Aubrey said, sullen.
"Yeah, maybe ones that don't crumble and die as you drag them around." Fat Amy said, not even sarcastically. It was more so as an observation. A "Fat Amy" observation.
"You think they're gonna show?" Cynthia Rose chimed in.
Suddenly everyone grew very quiet. They were hushed instantly.
They.
The girls all stared at the two empty seats that were somehow basking in glory. It was eerie. It was dramatic. It was intriguing. It was almost as if they passed away.
It had been a couple of days since any of the girls had heard from Beca. No one had seemed to hear from Chloe since she left. The last person who did was Aubrey—receiving a text that she was okay, and safe.
In all this time, the girls had carried on several rehearsals—all ending in a short amount of time as Aubrey grew incredibly frustrated having to rearrange and fill in for the two singers. When rehearsal suddenly stopped, the girls were sit down—a bit exasperated—and look at the absent seats. The theories soon began after a moment of silence—every time.
Chloe probably killed her—
Why would she kill her, she couldn't kill a fly—
Beca is the one who would kill someone—
But Beca screwed up, not Chloe—
They both waited too long—
No they didn't! They're probably shacked up as we speak—
Gettin' it gettin' it gettin' IT—
GIGGIDITY—
You're disgusting—
Beca wanted the V, are you kidding?—
We all know she had feelings for Chloe, she admitted at the party—
Yeah when Bree up and slapped a hoe—
Lesbihonest—
Sometimes I hide a penny under my tongue—
What?—
Huh?—
What if Beca is still looking for Chloe?—
You think they're lost?—
Poor Beca, I hope she finally told her, it's just so sad—
Let me make you feel better, come here—
Are you touching my goodies?—
You guys!—
...YES—
They need to get back to practice, we are going to fall behind—
We already are behind!—
This was probably Beca's plan all along, so she could get out of competing with us—
Or get into Chloe's pants for days—
Chloe would be so happy if that were true—
Have you ever seen Chloe sad? Like truly?—
She's a ginger, that's sad. She probably feels that weight every day—
Oh my God—
Weight is hard to carry, I would know—
What?—
Twig bitches—
They probably found each other just in time and had an amazing kiss in the rain or some shit—
Like Nicholas Sparks!—
Or they found each other and fought like cats and dogs—
Yeah, and they hate each other—
You really think that could have happened?—
One or the other—
Yeah, they're not here—
Want to see a dead body?—
...—
I think that we need to focus again, ladies. Let's start from—
Start from where? Sorry I'm late—
All eyes jumped up and over to the auditorium door that suddenly clasped shut. The click of heels echoed throughout the unbelievably large auditorium that housed the small group in the middle. No one said a word—it was as if they were listening to a code that the high heels made.
Click, click, click click click.
They watched as one of the grimy chairs was suddenly graced by a dolled up presence—one that could only be filled by one Chloe Beale.
She was wearing her favorite, royal, green dress. She sat down hurriedly and placed her bag on the floor, bending down to grab some sheet music out of that same bag. She moved as she was still in a seated position, acting as if nothing were different. Nothing had changed. No one was gawking at her.
And why should they? Chloe seemed normal. She was always dolled up. She was prepared for rehearsal with her sheet music—just a little late. She was also, well, alive and well.
"—yep. Called it. Beca's dead."
Cynthia Rose turned slowly, eyes wide, to a smiling, unaware, Lilly.
Chloe finally settled down a bit and looked up at the ladies. She felt an overwhelming mixture of curiously, wonderment, relief, and at the same time, worry in their eyes.
"What?"
Eyebrows raised. Some even turned to one another. Aubrey stood up and moved directly toward her best friend.
"Where have you been?! Are you okay?" She grabbed Chloe's hands.
"—Is Beca with you?" Stacie asked from behind Aubrey.
"Woop. Too soooooon." Fat Amy sighed.
"I'm okay." Chloe said suddenly. She then nodded to reassure the girls staring at her, to reassure her best friend looking down upon her with a frown, to perhaps even reassure herself.
"Do you want to talk later, Chlo?" Aubrey asked, feeling suddenly that maybe Chloe wasn't entirely comfortable with a public showing. Not like it had ever bothered Chloe before, but Beca had been a huge source of anxiety for her lately. Aubrey wanted to make sure she was being the best friend she could be, and talk to her privately.
"—No really. I'm fine. I'm sorry I'm late. Let's get going on the rehearsal. I can't believe I've put you out for so long now. I'm here, ready to make it up, and power through!" Chloe smiled up at Aubrey.
"—Well, we were pretty much done anyway…" Jessica said shrugging.
Aubrey moved her stare over to the empty chair next to Chloe. She then chose this moment to sit down in it, and continued to hold Chloe's hands.
"I'm sorry, Chlo." Aubrey said quietly. She somehow looked defeated. She was assuming the worst, and thought Chloe was putting on a brave face—like always.
"Don't be sorry, Bree. I was late to rehearsal. I'll be on time—no, I'll be early tomorrow night. I promise. Aca-swear." Chloe said.
"How was home, Chloe? Good trip?" Stacie asked, trying to keep positive.
"—Yeah, it was really good to see everybody. Always feel like I need a vacation after my vacation though, you know?" Chloe smiled sweetly.
"What kind of white shit is this? Stop avoiding everything! Where is Beca?"
"—She didn't text you, Aubrey?" Chloe turned.
"Text me what?" Aubrey asked.
"—Did she find you?" Cynthia Rose continued.
"I never got anything from her—" Aubrey said, confused.
"Yes."
Chloe's simple and perfect word stopped all commotion. Funny thing was, she wasn't looking at Cynthia Rose when she answered. She was no longer even looking at Aubrey. Her head was turned completely, not facing anyone in the colorful group. No, her gaze was directed at the auditorium door, which again, clasped shut.
"She did find me."
All of the girls jumped up and looked at the door, shocked to see Beca standing there. Beca didn't move right away. Instead, she looked afraid—wide-eyed and all.
"Shit. I'm early."
"Neither of you were early…" Aubrey said. Damn it, she couldn't help herself sometimes.
"No, she is early." Chloe giggled.
Beca was standing in front of the door frame, holding a large bouquet of flowers. She was dressed in a suit, of all things. Not a man's suit, but a dressy woman's suit, and a long skinny black tie. Her hair was styled—more so than any of the girls had seen before. It was tamed, and curled—a single pin pushing the right side back behind her ear and shoulder.
"—early for our first date." Chloe said, never taking her eyes off of her wonderfully awkward girlfriend.
