Here We Go Again

A Pitch Perfect Story

Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.

Song Recommendation: Here We Go Again by Demi Lovato

Author's Note: Another one-shot! Trying it from Jesse's POV this time. Wish me luck, all! I hope that you enjoy it. This one is a future-fic. I do own Diana, Lionel, and the random people that I will be discussing. Once again, giving Bumper the name of John. I sort of quote the song lyrics, but as Jesse's words, not as a song. I hope that Beca and Jesse don't seem too out of character. I tried to keep them in character, but at the same time to have them slightly matured and very desperate to hold onto a relationship that isn't healthy. Does that make sense? Let me know what you think. (Also, the pattern has officially went out the window! Haha)

Jesse Swanson looked around his apartment one last time. He had several cardboard boxes of her stuff that he was fully prepared to throw away this time. He was sick of all the fighting. He was sick of all the screaming. He was sick and tired succumbing to all of her drama and baggage. This time it was for good. He wasn't going to let her come running back to him and attempt to fix things, again. He decided to look around every room of his apartment one last time, making sure he had every trace of her gone. A huge part of Jesse wanted to just walk her stuff out to the garbage, but another part of him didn't, because there were so many good memories mixed in with the bad. Plus, there were a lot of pictures of him and their friends from college that her in them, so he couldn't exactly throw all of those out, right? He sighed, returning to the living room-dining room-kitchenette of his one-bedroom apartment in the very noisy LA to stare at the boxes. Should he prioritize them? Maybe all of the stuff that is definitely hers—like the clothing she kept in his drawers and her tooth brush and that green spongy thing that hangs off a hook in the shower—he could just toss into the trash, or at least leave with her super at her apartment. The rest of it—like the group photos with the Bellas and Trebles or from Chloe's wedding two years ago, or the ticket stubs from their first movie in the city, or the playbill from the Broadway show that he drug her to when they went to New York City for Christmas their senior year of college—those kind of things, he could—should?—keep.

Jesse groaned, dropping to the floor in front of the boxes, emptying them to begin the sorting process. He fought the desire to bury his face into the shirts that she left at his place, to smell the scent of her one last time—for this will be the last time. He couldn't do it anymore. This has to be the last time. He set her clothing, her toothbrush and toiletries, the couple of flash drives of her mixes that she left lying around his apartment, and the pictures of her doing the stupidest stuff (pretending to choke Bumper who was attempting to kiss her under the mistletoe at one of their holiday parties from three years ago, for example). He shoved them into a box, labeling it with a black marker: Your Shit. The rest of the things, the pictures of the two of them on important dates throughout their on-again, off-again relationship for the last seven years (eight, if you counted their freshman year at Barden—which he did most of the time), as well as the pictures that were from random afternoons after they got caught in rainstorms, or a picture of her sleeping in his shirt in his bed with his (theirs?) dog, Lionel, when he was still a small ball of black fluff (said small ball of black fluff was now a massive ball of black fluff and muscle that took up most of the bed and insisted on sleeping between them in bed, whether they were at his apartment or hers). The little mementos, like key chains from all of the cities and towns they visited during their summer road trip across the country after they graduated from Barden), the playbills, the ticket stubs, the mixed CDs and flash drives, all of it was shoved into their shared box. Jesse wasn't sure yet what he wanted to do with this box yet—throw it away? Give it to her? Save it and bury it in the top of his closet to have his future wife (not her! He was serious this time!) randomly come across it? He labeled the box with the black marker: Our Shit.

The rest of it—the group photos that had her and him in it holding hands or kissing or something, the I Heart NY t-shirt that all of the Barden Bellas and Trebles signed their first ICCA competition from his and her freshman year after the truce between the groups was set up, anything that had memories of him and her together with their friends from Barden and the years after they had graduated (including Chloe's, Aubrey's, and Donald's wedding stuff) was packed into this box, which was labeled with the black marker as: During and After Barden. This box he was definitely keeping, because these were the things that had his friends and the most good memories associated with it. He couldn't imagine how pissed Chloe or Donald, and especially Aubrey, would be if they came across their wedding photos in the trash. He taped up the boxes and took the one the Barden box to put into the top of his closet. He returned to the living room, wondering what he should do with the Our Shit box. He chewed on his bottom lip, crossing his arms, willing the box to just poof magically to the spot where he truly wanted it (if he knew what that spot was—either the trash or his closet—he would have put it there himself). His phone rang, and he reached for it. It was sitting on his coffee table, near where he had boxed up anything that had to do with her. Glancing at the screen, he groaned, his thumb hovering over the reject button. He needed to hit the button, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Fuck, Swanson, get your shit together. Hit reject!" Jesse told himself. He didn't need to, though, because the call ended and went to his voicemail. He put the phone down, letting out a deep breath. He looked at the two boxes and decided that he had to get rid of both of them. He needed to say goodbye, and the only way that he could do that was by getting rid of those two boxes—the boxes that have the most memories of him and her and their tumultuous relationship. He nodded his head. He could do this. His phone chirped with the notification that he had she had left him a message. His hand itched to grab it and listen to it, but he needed a clean break. He stood up and shoved the phone into his pocket and grabbed his car keys, shoving them into his pocket as well. "Lionel," he called to the dog, which was currently lying on the couch, staring at him with the most morose look on his face. Lionel could tell that his dad meant business this time, and his mom wasn't coming back. Jesse frowned, knowing that the dog wasn't going to understand why Beca wasn't coming back. Lionel was technically Jesse's dog, but Beca had helped him pick out the dog as a puppy and had spent mostly every night with the two of them since, so it was like he was their baby. It was going to be hard on the dog when Beca wasn't around anymore. "Want to go for a drive?" He asked the dog. Lionel jumped off the couch and ran to the door, standing there, whimpering.

Jesse pulled his phone out and called Bumper, who was the only one of them actually living in LA, aside from him and Beca. "Hello, Bumperlicious speaking." He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous way that his old friend from college answered the phone.

"Hey, dude…wanna meet me at the dog park? There is something I gotta tell you."

"You're gay, right? Swanson, I have been telling you that for years now. I just don't know why you insist on pretending you like vagina, when we all know that you really love dick."

"Fuck you," Jesse muttered, walking over to hook Lionel's leash to his harness. "I'm serious, though. I need like a half hour to drop something off."

"Fine, Jessica, I will see you in thirty. I will bring Diana." Jesse said goodbye, hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his pocket, extracting his keys instead. It is probably good that Bumper was bringing Diana, because that means that the bubbly blonde probably didn't talk to Beca yet, so he could tell the two of them without getting dirty looks from the blonde. If it came down to the splitting of friends, it was Bumper and Jesse against Diana and Beca, which means that if Bumper wanted to continue to get laid by his girlfriend, then he would probably join Team Beca. He needed to get in good with the blonde first, so maybe it could be Team Jesse, instead. It was lame, he knew, but he had to do what he could. There were only so many people he could actually tolerate in LA, and Bumper was one of them. It was a shocker to everyone, especially Jesse, but the older guy had gotten surprisingly mellow after he dropped out of school and moved to LA. A few good kicks to the ass certainly humbled a person, and the music business was definitely one to give a person a kick to the ass. Jesse had learned that through watching Beca have to fight her way into a position that she actually enjoyed. (The cause of their fifth breakup was the fact that Jesse landed a job right away, whereas Beca had to struggle for months to find a record label that would even take her on as a poorly paid intern after they had graduated from Barden.)

Jesse hooked Lionel's leash around his hand and bent down to grab the boxes from the floor. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to hold the boxes, open the door, shove the keys into the lock, close the door after he and Lionel had walked out of the apartment, and then lock it—all without dropping Lionel's leash, the boxes, or his keys. They made their way to the elevator, riding down to the first floor to exit the building and to climb into the car. Jesse put the boxes into the trunk of his car first, before letting Lionel into the backseat of the car, hooking him into the doggy seatbelt that Beca had bought for him. Jesse closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat. He turned on the radio, cursing when the first song that came on was one that Beca had been singing in the shower the other morning. He quickly changed the station, sighing when the next song was one that was safe, as far as he knew. Lionel whimpered in the backseat as Jesse reversed the car from the parking spot and drove out of the parking lot in the direction of Beca's apartment complex. The dog knew where they were going, and it was going to break Jesse's heart to not let the dog see her. He could only hope that Beca wasn't home, so that he could slip in and out of her building undetected.

When he arrived at her apartment, Jesse heard the whacking sound of Lionel's tail hitting the car seat and the loud whines coming from his dog. He sighed, parking on the street and rolling each window down about an inch before shutting off the car. "I will be right back, Lionel. Then, we are going to go to the dog park. It will be a lot of fun!" He climbed out of the car and went to the trunk to grab the two boxes, locking the car behind him. He heard Lionel barking, but he continued into the apartment complex, walking up to the door off to the side that led to the super's office and apartment. He knocked on the door, and the middle-aged man with a big beer belly opened the door. "Sup, 2B's boyfriend." The man said. He looked at the boxes in Jesse's hands. "Or, is it 2B's ex-boyfriend now?"

"Can you give her this the next time you see her?"

"Do I look like the concierge?"

"Dude, just give it to her?"

"Fine. Don't get your panties in a bunch, dude." The super took the boxes from Jesse and dropped them on the chair he had set up in front of his desk. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." Jesse said snippily. He turned on his heel and marched out of the apartment complex towards his car. Lionel was still whimpering and barking from the backseat. He unlocked the car and climbed inside, starting the car up quickly. He waited for a car to drive past before he pulled away from the curb, ready to get on with his life. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he knew it was her calling—trying to reach him for what was probably the fifteenth time since they broke up the night before. He didn't answer anyone of them.

"Ready to go to the dog park, buddy?" He asked the dog in the backseat, turning left at the next stop light. Lionel whimpered in the backseat. After parking the car when he arrived, Jesse made his way to release Lionel from his seatbelt and walked him into the park, glancing around for Bumper and Diana. He saw them sitting at one of the tables in the shade. He raised a hand in greeting, making his way over to them. He sat down opposite them, releasing Lionel's leash. "Go have fun, buddy." The dog took off running, joining the mass of dogs running around the gated park, chasing and playing with each other.

"So, what do you need to tell us, Jessica?" Bumper asked as Jesse wrapped the leash into a ring and laid it on the table.

"Beca and I broke up last night." Bumper scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Is that all? Another normal Saturday afternoon, I see. Here I thought it was something important."

"It is really over this time." Jesse insisted, ignoring his friend's look of mistrust.

"What is this, the tenth breakup in the last seven years? You say that every time," Bumper told him. "And, then, two minutes later, you and her are back to fucking each other's brains out and crying about how much you love each other and missed each other and were so fucking sorry to do 'insert whatever caused the breakup here.' It is the same thing over and over and over again."

"It's different this time." Jesse told them, and Diana cocked an eyebrow at him.

"How is it different this time?" She asked, leaning forward on the table. Her blonde hair whipped around her shoulders in the breeze. "What happened?"

"The usual shit, Diana. Don't play him any mind." Bumper said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

"I got offered a job to compose for a television show based in New York City. The job is pretty awesome, and I don't think that I can or should give it up for my career. But, her job is here. I know that it is asking her a lot to move across the country with me for my career, but I moved out here for her. She could easily work in the New York studio for the same label that she works for now, but she refuses to move. She thinks that she shouldn't have to. She thinks that I should just pass on the job and stay here." Jesse ran a hand through his hair, glancing over his shoulder at Lionel as he chased after some poodle. "If she would just talk to me about it like a normal adult, then maybe we could figure something out, like long-distance or she could live here for a few months and then live out in the city with me for a few months. There are bunch of ways that we could go about doing this, but she has it set in her mind that LA is the be-all, end-all for her and that it should be that way for me, too."

"Wow, Jess, congrats." Bumper said, reaching out to slap a hand on his upper arm. "But, that sucks that she is being her usual bitchy self."

"Hey! John, don't call Beca that!" Diana said, smacking him upside the head. She turned to Jesse, chewing her bottom lip in a way that meant that she was feeling conflicted. She wanted to support Jesse, but she also wanted to stand by Beca, who was her friend first (Beca had introduced the blonde to Jesse and Bumper, and Bumper and Diana had wound up hitting it off). "I know that you are upset, but try thinking about it from her perspective, Jesse. She has wanted LA and this job for so long, and she has finally got it. Now, you have this amazing opportunity, and you are asking her to give up the dream that she has worked so hard for to move back across the country."

"I get that, believe me, Di." Jesse groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "I'm just…I am sick of sacrificing everything for her and never getting it back. I have worked so hard to make a name for myself in this business, and this is the first time that I am ever going to be lead on scoring it. That is a big deal, and I need to take this job. I can't turn it down." He looked at Lionel again, frowning. "I love her; I really love her, but it is time that I stop giving up my dreams for hers. I'm better off without her." The words tasted sour in his mouth, and he knew it was a lie. He loved her to death, and he wished that there was some way that he could keep them both, but he knew that it wasn't possible. It was time to move on. He just hoped that he could get out of LA without seeing her, because he knew that if she were to show up at his door, he would break down again, falling back into their old patterns.

Beca Mitchell was Jesse's one vice; he was addicted to her. There was something about her from the moment he laid eyes on her in the late August sun, climbing out of a cab with her dark clothing, heavy eye makeup, and scary ear spike that got hooked under his skin. Each and every time they got close, she would push him away and go running, but then come running back, spouting something romantic or doing some grand gesture that would hook him again. Each and every time they broke up, he would swear that he wouldn't let her back in and that he would let her go, but each and every time she came running back to him, he would let her fall into his arms. He would keep letting her screw with him. It was an addiction—that is the only way that he could describe her. Their relationship was generally toxic, but he couldn't seem to quit her.

He thought that after they finally got passed the fact that he got a crappy job working for a small production studio, writing the jingles for local news promos and small-time commercials for Mom-and-Pop stores, the summer after they graduated from Barden, while she had to work two jobs, waitressing and bartending, in order to pay her rent (she had refused to move in with him, which, looking back now, was the best decision they ever made, considering how many times they had broken up throughout their seven years together), while she attempted to make contact after contact at recording studio after record label for months until she finally got some poor paying internship that got her foot in the door, things would finally be okay for them. Their breakup then had lasted only about three weeks. She finally got her chance, and the first person she called was him. Jesse was surprised that she called him, and after Beca excitedly shrieked about getting the job, which she would still have to work a second job with for awhile, she immediately quieted down and said she was sorry for bothering him. He said that it was fine, that he wanted to hear about her life and that he missed her. She told him that she missed him, too, and he invited her over for pizza and beer to celebrate her new job. She spent the night that night, and they were suddenly back together again.

That had only lasted about another year and half, before they broke up again. She didn't like all of the long hours he was working with a coworker on his first television series. He tried to explain to her that the coworker was happily married and pregnant with their first child, but Beca didn't want to hear it. She lashed out, like she usually did, pushing him away. They broke up and it lasted for about a month before she came crawling back to him, crying about how much she had missed him. They got back together, again. This was the sixth time that they had broken up in the five years that they had been dating (having known each other for six). They broke up another three times in the next two years, all three of which lasted for about two weeks before she would come crawling back to him. It was getting exhausting at this point.

Jesse knew that when you were in love, it shouldn't be like this. There shouldn't be constant fights and passionate reunions. Normal couples didn't do this. He thought that they had fallen in love over the eight years that they knew each other, and that they could finally get past all of the drama and childish antics. He wanted to settle down. He wanted to get married. He wanted to have kids. Beca couldn't be the person he did all of that with if she was constantly running away when there was the slightest bit of tension or when things got a little too serious between them. It was almost as if she had an alarm bell that went off in her head the moment that Jesse thought about maybe proposing or asking her to move in with him (she would immediately lash out and start pushing him away, and the thought would creep back into the deep corners of his mind). He should know better each and every time that they got back together that nothing would change—they would break up and be miserable without each other. This time it had to be different. He needed to get over her, because he had this great opportunity for his career. It was time to move on from the Beca and Jesse Dramafest.

Jesse's phone went off again. He groaned, digging it out of his pocket. He stared at the screen, reading her name and the less than and three that he had beside it. He had to change that. She wasn't his heart anymore. He was going to cut her out of his life completely. It would suck for Lionel, but if he was really going to get over it, then he couldn't see her anymore. "Are you going to answer it?" Diana asked him, laying a hand on his wrist, frowning at him with sad eyes. It took everything in him to hit the reject button.

"Nope," he said. "I'm done." He chewed on his bottom lip. "Unless she wants to act mature and actually have a conversation about this and try to work something out." Bumper rolled his eyes.

"And, there it is…every time I think you might actually be a man and ditch that crazy bitch, you let her right back in. Dude, focus! You have a kickass new job in a fucking awesome city where you can get serious tail with that whole face thing you got going on. You are going to be up to your armpits in hot girls who will drop their panties for you in a second." Diana smacked Bumper upside the head again.

"So, I take it that if you were offered a job in New York, you would take it so that you could have sex with all of the hot girls that you would find there?" She crossed her arms and glared at her boyfriend.

"Fuck, no, baby! I wouldn't leave you for anyone, because you are awesome and sexy and fucking amazing, and I love you." Bumper told her, pulling her into his arms to press loud kisses to her cheeks. "I am just saying that Jesse here needs to move the fuck on, and he can do that in NYC."

"But, Jesse loves Beca and Beca loves Jesse. Why shouldn't they try to work things out?"

"Because, Jesse is whipped and Beca is bat-shit crazy. They're not good for each other, and it is time that one of them grows up and puts an end to all of the shit that they are doing to each other. Jesse is doing the right thing by letting Beca hook her toxic talons into some other dude who will take it and not be miserable, and she would be doing the right thing by him by letting him find a girl that is almost as awesome as you that he can have half- or full-Jewish babies with."

"I don't like how you keep saying horrible things about my friend, but I guess you are right about them needing to move on…" Diana said, frowning. "I just wish there was a way that you and Beca could work things out, Jesse. I know you make her happy."

"If I made her happy, then why does she keep lashing out and pushing me away?"

"I don't know…" Diana told him honestly.

"Well, I better get back home and start looking for relatively cheap apartments online. I really don't want to have to crash with Aubrey and her husband when I move there. Aubrey is more Beca's friend." He whistled. "Lionel, come!" The black dog came bounding over to him, wagging his tail and barking. Jesse leaned over and hooked the leash to the dog's harness. "Good, boy. That's a good boy, Lionel." He pressed a kiss to the dog's soft head. "I will talk to you guys later and let you know the details about when I am moving and everything."

"Later, Jessica." Bumper said, holding a fist out for Jesse to pound. Diana jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"I will miss you!" She told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whoa, there! You're my girlfriend, not his!" Bumper said, clapping his hands. Diana released him, rolling her eyes.

Jesse and Lionel made their way back to his car. After getting them both buckled in, he drove back to his apartment, ready to spend his evening drinking a few beers, eating left over pasta from a few nights ago, and doing some serious research on New York City. He parked his car in one of the parking spots behind his apartment complex and made his way up the stairs with Lionel. He opened the door, letting Lionel into the room by releasing his leash from the harness. The dog started barking like crazy and went rushing towards the couch. Jesse froze, looking up in shock when he heard the feminine voice he had spent the entire day trying to avoid. "Hey, honey! Mommy's missed her big boy." He watched as Lionel leapt into Beca's lap, licking her neck and face in excitement. He carefully shut the door behind him and hung the leash up on the hook that he had hammered into the back of the door. His super of the building was probably going to bitch about it, but he didn't care. As long as it was fixed before he moved out, then he wouldn't have to lose a dime out of his security deposit.

"What are you doing here?" Jesse asked her. He tried to keep his voice cold and unemotional, but seeing her there, in his home with his dog like old times when they were happy, it was killing him. Beca told Lionel to lie down, and the dog promptly did so, across her lap. The dog was huge in comparison to Beca's petite form.

"Hello to you, too, Jesse," she snapped, running her hands through Lionel's fur. "Lionel, Daddy is being a butthead to Mommy." She cooed to the dog, and Jesse just cocked an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms. If anyone knew that Beca Mitchell acted like this around a dog, they would be shocked, considering she was all about putting up the tough girl front. Beca loved Lionel, though, and she constantly showered the dog with treats and toys and called herself his Mommy. Jesse tried to not let it affect him, because the day that he heard her say to Lionel that he was loved by his Mommy when the dog was barely six months old, he about had a heart attack. It was one of the times that his thoughts went to marriage and living together, and Beca immediately started to shut down.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her again.

"Why did you drop off all of that stuff at my place?" She whispered, focusing on the dog in her lap, running her fingers through his fur. He tried to ignore the way that her voice quivered and was so quiet—a sign that she was upset. He needed to stay focused. He needed to keep the wall up. The breakup was for the best. Seriously…right?

"Well, it was either that or throw it out." He told her. She looked up at him then, and he tried to ignore the shine in her eyes. "That is what people do when they break up, Beca."

"Do you honestly want to break up with me, Jesse? Can you stand there and look me in the eye when you say that you don't love me?"

"I never said I didn't love you, Beca," Jesse sighed, uncrossing his arms to bury his face in his hands. "Fuck!" He groaned into them. He marched past her to the kitchenette. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and quickly opened the bottle with the bottle opener that he hung on the fridge with a magnet. He gulped down half of the beer, not daring to look at her on the couch. He heard Beca shooing Lionel from her lap. She carefully made her way into the kitchen. He heard her come up behind him. When her hand fell on his arm, it took everything in his power to pull away from her and put a few feet of distance between them. She sighed loudly.

"If you really loved me, then you would be leaving me." Jesse shook his head.

"I'm not leaving you," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I tried talking to you, but you never listen to me…you only hear about half of what I say to you." He groaned. "You make me insane, Beca. You don't get it."

"I do listen to you, Jesse!" She shouted. "I heard you tell me that you were taking a job across the fucking country. I heard you tell me that you didn't want to stay here with me! You obviously don't love me enough to want to stay with me!" He shook his head.

"God! Beca, do you hear yourself? I never said that I didn't love you or that I didn't want to be with you! I moved to LA to be with you! I put up with a hell of lot of bullshit over the last seven years to be with you, because I love you! The one time I try to talk to you about something that is good for me—that helps my career, you don't want to hear it! Why is that? Because it isn't about you for once?"

"How can you say that to me?" She threw her hands up. "Do you not understand how unbelievably hurtful that is?!"

"I tried to talk to you last night." Yelling wasn't working for them, so Jesse tried to speak more calmly. "I tried to talk to you about this, but you do what you always do, Becs. You lash out; you push me away. You say cruel things about how I don't love your or care about you. Everything I do is for you, Beca." He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it. "I'm at my wits' ends. I don't know what to do anymore, Beca. I can't be with you, but I can't be without you. Seeing you hurt right now is killing me, but you don't get it! You don't understand what it is like—it's…it's just too hard." He felt the tears sting in his eyes, so he covered his face with his hands.

"Jess," Beca took a step forward, reaching a hand out towards him. It hovered there for a moment, but then she dropped it. "I love you…" She whispered.

"Sometimes love isn't enough, Beca." His hands fell to his sides and tightened into fists. He watched as her body began shaking, and she wrapped her arms around herself. He took a step forward towards her. Then, he took another. Soon, he was standing in front of her, and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a hug. She let go of herself and slid her arms around him, sobbing.

"I'm broken, Jesse. You knew that…" She buried her face into his chest. "Why did you let me love you? I was fine without you, but now…if…I can't be without you."

"Beca," Jesse squeezed her body closer to his. "Just tell me what you want…you never say what you mean to me. You say you love me, but then you manipulate me into doing what you want, but then two seconds later, you change your mind. Just make up your mind and tell me. You freak out the second things get really serious with us. I can't keep existing in this limbo period where it's us together, but never moving forward. I want marriage; I want kids. Even now, as I say this stuff to you, you are tensing, pulling away." Jesse released her and stepped back. "Make up your mind, Beca. Or else, it is going to be too late this time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She whispered, wiping at her cheeks.

"It means that I should say goodbye. I should make a clean break from this. I have this amazing job opportunity in my career. I should be jumping at the chance to take this." Beca nodded her head. She ran a hand through her hair.

"You should. You're right. I was wrong to put it down. I was wrong to make it about me." She shook her head, looking down at her feet. "I got scared. I lashed out, because it means that I'm not enough for you." He groaned.

"I asked you to come with me." He whispered. She looked up at him. Her brow furrowed, obviously confused.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, I guess you didn't hear that, because you were too busy screaming at me about how much of a fucking asshole I am and about how I was self-centered." He gave her a sarcastic smile. "And the list goes on."

"You asked me to go with you?"

"Of course I did, Beca!" He laughed, but it was humorless. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to move forward with you. I was hoping that you and I would move together—live together. I was hoping that we could take the next step, and then eventually that would lead to the later steps of marriage and children. That is what I want with you." He paused. "What I wanted with you."

"Wanted?"

"I don't know anymore, Beca. I want it all with you, but I don't know if I can keep doing this."

"Keep doing what? Be with me?"

"No, fighting with you. I can't keep fighting and arguing and being unhappy most of the time, waiting for the moment when things are good and then hoping that it stays that way for even a little while. Then, the next fight happens, and things are miserable, and then we breakup. Then, we are miserable because we are alone for two weeks, three weeks, a month, and then you come back and you say you are sorry and that you love me. Then, things are really good for awhile again. It happens that way all of the time."

"I'm so sorry that you hate being with me so much."

"I don't…fuck!" He ran a hand through his hair again. "I just want to stop fighting all of the time." He sighed.

"What does this mean? Do you still want to be with me?"

"I will never stop wanting to be with you," Jesse told her. Beca wiped at her cheeks. "But, I'm taking this job." She nodded her head. "I would love it if you came with me, but if you don't want to, then I am going to have to say goodbye. So, it's up to you. Do you want to move with me to New York?" Beca stared at Jesse. "Take your time. It's a big decision…making or breaking our relationship, here." She glared at him.

"It is a big decision, Jesse. It is a huge decision. I know why you are taking it—it is good for your career. I get that, but this is a big decision in terms of my career. It is also a big decision in terms of our relationship. Are we ready to live together? You said it yourself, we have an insane relationship. What if we fight and breakup again? We are living together this time. There is a hell of a lot of messiness that comes with that."

"So, you don't want to go?"

"I don't know! I want you, Jesse." She groaned. "I want us…but, I'm scared. I don't know if I can do this! I'm already really bad at being a girlfriend. How much more can I fuck this up?"

"Beca, I'm asking you to take the leap with me. This is the last time I am going to do this. I want forever with you, but this is the last time I'm going to put my heart on the line. I love you, so you have got to tell me what you want. Make up your mind. Do you want to be with me? Do you want to move to New York with me? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Beca rubbed a hand over her face. Jesse took a step forward and took her hands in his. "Please, Beca. Come with me."

"Okay," she whispered. He pulled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think, 'here we go again.' He hoped that this time would be different. He hoped that this time, things would be better. He was going into this knowing that there was a huge possibility that things were going to end poorly. He had to try. He had to try this one last time. (Oh, who was he kidding…he was going to keep trying with this girl forever; she was like a drug, and he was addicted. He was never going to give up on her, no matter how much it hurt him to be with her. He wasn't lying when he told her that he couldn't be with her, but he couldn't be without her. The two of them were had some kind of sick connection that they couldn't seem to break. Here they go again.)