A/N: Surprise! A back-to-back (well, almost) update this week. Partly because the end of the previous chapter necessitated it, but also because some thoughts here are tied to others in the previous chapters and I didn't want you to lose track of the trend by posting a week later.


CHAPTER TWELVE

"Chloe! H-hey—!"

Beca glared up at Stacie, who had stepped in front of her to block her from going after Chloe. Stacie shook her head. "Let her calm down—"

"No, I'm not listening to you this time. I won't let her go when she's this upset!"

"Then you're not the one who should go after her," Stacie said firmly, taking Beca by the shoulder to stop her from getting around. She added in a softer tone, "It will just confuse the both of you."

It wasn't instantaneous, but Beca stopped her struggling when she realized that Stacie was right. What could she even say to Chloe, if she went after her, to make this all feel better? To make her stop hurting? It was, after all, Beca's own stupid fault. She should have listened to Chloe and not been such a coward, selfishly avoiding her own problems by creating one from an easy target.

"Then I'll go," Emily piped up, her courage only slightly undermined by the waver in her voice.

"Yeah, me, too," offered Fat Amy. "In my experience, a large woman tripping over her own feet is a surefire way of cheering someone up."

Stacie gave them both a sad smile but again shook her head. "I think it's best if it's someone not in the band." She turned back to Beca, who was too deflated to argue, and then to Aubrey, who was looking straight at her with pain and anger etched on her face. Stacie wasn't surprised.

"What have you done?"

Beca lifted her head at the sound of Aubrey's accusation and whirled around in disbelief. "What has Stacie done? You berate Chloe like that and you think Stacie's to blame?"

But Aubrey didn't flinch; she kept her eyes on Stacie, waiting for an answer. Beca turned back to their manager for an explanation and was surprised too see her greyish-green eyes lowering guiltily.

"Chloe, she insisted—"

"Does she have that future, Stacie?" Aubrey demanded, taking an intimidating step closer to her. "Does she have a family to return to?"

Beca grew tired of flitting between Aubrey and Stacie and settled on trying to read the latter's expression. How did Aubrey suddenly get on the high ground? And what did Stacie have to do with Chloe's family?

Emily stifled a gasp behind her hand and also took a step toward Stacie. "They didn't…?" she pleaded.

"What's going on?" Fat Amy scratched her head in confusion.

Stacie took a deep breath before answering. "The night we left Barden was the night I tried to convince Chloe's parents to let her go, like I did to Emily's. But I told Chloe beforehand to really think about it because, well, knowing the Beales, it wasn't going to be easy. In fact, I would have given up if Chloe hadn't said anything." She shook her head regretfully. "But she said everything you said, Aubrey. All of that stuff about how she didn't deserve the things she got, but also about how the expectations they placed on her weren't her own expectations for herself… how she wasn't happy just being their perfect little angel.

"That didn't sit well with her father. He called her ungrateful for giving her a good life and, well… he said that if she stepped out the door, she might as well never come back."

Beca, on her part, stepped away from Stacie reflexively. She stared at her, the woman with the so-called 'golden tongue'… What exactly did she end up convincing Chloe to do?

"I swear I stayed out of it after that," Stacie insisted, "but Chloe—she was determined to keep going! I could tell it hurt her to leave but she was hoping for something… I didn't know what it was at the time."

Then Beca felt herself shrink with shame when she realized that she never talked to Chloe about her family. She never bothered to ask about the life Chloe left behind—other than that inane question about her boyfriend. Beca was too busy blindly looking toward the future to notice that Chloe wasn't even getting any letters from home.

And, worst of all, this happened because Chloe wanted to be with her. If she had just asked... Beca wondered if she could have stopped all of it.

"She made me promise not to tell any of you, even if you asked," Stacie continued solemnly, "and she relied on the disgrace she left her family in to keep the news from your own parents."

Emily and Aubrey exchanged looks of downhearted realization. Beca herself remembered how her father wrote about the 'scandal' she had left Barden with. It didn't occur to her that her father, whom she knew held Mr. Beale in high regard, was implying the very truth that Stacie just revealed.

Had Beca really been that blind?

But in a surprising reversal of roles that evening, Aubrey became the voice of reason and hope.

"Her father isn't serious," she said firmly, trying to convince herself more than anyone else. "He was probably just emotional, caught by surprise. He won't—he can't hold a grudge against Chloe, not his only daughter."

"That's what I hoped for. And Chloe did, too, though she tried to hide it," sighed Stacie. "But it's been two months and she hasn't heard from them at all. Not one single letter…" She ran a hand through her hair wearily. "I wanted to give Chloe a chance to follow her dreams and at that time I thought it meant leaving Barden. I didn't want her to have to cut ties with her family but that was the consequence she understood and accepted."

The Bellas didn't know what to say, so Stacie started backing up toward the door. "I should go and find her. You girls just…" She pursed her lips and waved a hand, having found nothing to say. "I'll see you tomorrow."


Alone in their dressing room, the Bellas waited for whoever would be the first to break the silence, and somehow they knew it could only be either Aubrey or Beca. Tonight had shattered Emily's rose-colored glasses and no humorous anecdote of Fat Amy's could spin it into something other than a complete train crash of emotions and relationships.

But as much as she wanted to continue fighting Aubrey, in her mind Beca had lost any moral ground to chastise her for all she had said, because it wasn't Aubrey who truly hurt Chloe that night. It wasn't Aubrey's words that caused Chloe to run.

Chloe always knew how Aubrey felt about her being there—Beca realized that now. That was why Chloe insisted on not making a big deal out of Aubrey not giving her credit for the song; she had even pointed it out over dinner. But despite that, Chloe kept going. She might have agreed with Aubrey about not being needed, but she still kept going because—

This was where she wanted to be.

Chloe was here for Beca.

But instead of seeing that as the blessing that it was, Beca buckled under the weight of Chloe's head on her shoulder. She couldn't take it. She cowered away because she thought having someone tie their future to hers was equivalent to jumping out of an airplane without a parachute. Beca couldn't rationalize how Chloe could put that much faith in her, and it bothered her that Chloe might be jumping with nothing to save her but Beca.

Which was why tonight, when Beca got dangerously close to throwing reason away and letting herself get swallowed by the sweet possibility of a future with her, she pushed back. She focused her attention on fighting a different battle, but she didn't expect Chloe to be the one getting hurt by it.

It wasn't Aubrey's words that caused Chloe to run; it was the feeling of jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.


Beca's head never felt heavier than when she lifted it to look at Aubrey. And that was all she did: she looked. Beca gazed upon the hard features of a woman she never thought could be so cold, so unrestrainedly harsh… and yet Beca couldn't bring herself to despise her without being a hypocrite.

Aubrey telling Chloe to go home was deplorable, but wasn't that essentially what Beca was hoping for?

Aubrey saw Barden as a place where Chloe could have a better future surrounded by a family that loves her and can provide for her. Disappointment after disappointment in LA only guaranteed that life there was never going to be easy; nothing was ever handed to you. So Aubrey pushed Chloe away from it all, saying that home was what's best for Chloe. Was Beca really any different when she buried her own feelings to make it easier to tell Chloe the same thing?

Beca couldn't admonish Aubrey, but maybe there was one thing she could ask her to make tonight a little better. Aubrey's answer, if Beca dared to hope to get the right one, might make her see if they were really any different from each other.

"Did you ever… All those years, have you ever really thought of her as your friend?"

The girls looked up to the sound that broke the silence. Then Emily turned to Aubrey hopefully, but also fearfully; to learn that your friends never really liked each other was too dark for her cheerful nature.

"Chloe has supported me all this time," Aubrey said with a small sigh. There was no trace of the fire that fueled her earlier words. "She always did, even at my worst. She was the only one who ever… who ever loved me unconditionally. So, yes," she nodded at Beca. "I took her patience for granted but I did love her. Chloe was my closest friend."

Beca raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So telling her all of that was…?"

"The truth."

Beca ground her teeth. She should have known that Aubrey wouldn't admit, even at this point, to being wrong. But Aubrey quickly continued—

"And it was what I thought was best for her… I still think it is." She wrapped her arms around herself, not looking as confident as her words sounded, but she was no less determined to say them. "Her family will forgive her; it's not too late for that. Everything will be back to normal once she's home. She'll finish school and graduate, maybe work at her father's office, or with children like she's always wanted… She'll get married there, have her own kids, and live happily ever after."

It was the perfect picture of a perfectly good life—even Aubrey wanted to see that in Chloe's future. The whole argument about the band and where Chloe fit in it was just smoke and mirrors—something to once again distract them from the inevitable. And maybe that was why it was so easy for the Bellas, particularly Aubrey and Beca, to ignore what they already knew about the end:

It was going to be painful, but it was all for the best.

Beca swallowed to quell that same pain she was beginning to feel in her chest. So that settled it: she and Aubrey weren't any different. In fact, they were on the exact same page. They both knew that staying in LA couldn't give Chloe all of that, and it turns out they were willing to hurt her to get her to realize it as well.


"Can I ask you a question, Beca?" Aubrey said slowly, after the long silence that followed her prophesying. "Would you have been this lenient with Stacie—with Mr. Siler and the label, and how they've been treating us..." She looked at Beca straight in the eye, letting her know that she wasn't trying to spite her, but also that she wasn't going to make it easy on her either. "…if you weren't so distracted by your crush on Chloe?"

Beca felt her entire face heat up and her mouth go dry. But it was no use trying to play dumb now.

"Would you have thought twice about bursting in and demanding an apology from me if you hadn't fallen in love with her?"

It was as though Aubrey had been reading Beca's mind. Beca regretted it ever since Chloe stormed out. She couldn't stop kicking herself for not listening to Chloe; she should have just left it alone. But Beca couldn't answer that out loud.

In any case, Aubrey didn't seem to want an answer.

"I know you all see me as a monster right now," she said, looking at each member of the band. "Maybe I am. But I've always looked out for what's best for us, for the band. And when we first set out I thought that you, Beca, would do the same. You were the outsider; you had the greatest incentive to work hard to make it farther than this." She looked at Beca with a mix of disappointment and sympathy. "But you got distracted."

Beca couldn't take any more of this. She knew it wasn't Aubrey's intention to make her miserable—it had never been more clear to Beca that the truth hurt, not the person saying it—but she still couldn't bear to look at the harsh reality of the decisions she had made in the past few weeks. To do that, she needed a clearer head. And, yes, she knew it was a cowardly thing to do given that she started all of this, but she had to do it.

Beca ran.


Her running led her to Stacie. Without need of any prompting, Stacie calmly informed her, "She'll be okay. I set her up in my apartment for the night until things simmer down."

"Can I… can I go apologize to her?" It was the opposite of clearing her head, but it was instinctive on Beca's part.

But Stacie only gave her a sad smile. "I promise you'll see her first thing tomorrow at the studio. How about you, are you okay?"

Beca shook her head. "I need to clear my head. Any suggestions?"

"Hmm." Stacie regarded her through narrowed eyes. "I don't think so, missy. It's probably best that you go straight to the hotel and get some sleep."

"Come on, Stacie," Beca rolled her eyes, "I'm an adult."

"Yeah, an adult who just went through something pretty traumatic even for an adult," Stacie pointed out. But Beca must have looked desperately in need of a break, since she sighed and said, "Just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

Beca nodded. Despite claiming to be an adult herself, she actually appreciated that someone with more maturity was still looking out for them. She couldn't thank Stacie enough for opening her home to Chloe, and it eased her mind to think that there was at least one untruth in Aubrey's allegations: Beca wasn't lenient with Stacie because of Chloe; she simply trusted Stacie. Granted, she had allowed Chloe to break ties with her own family, but the fact remained that she looked out for the Bellas throughout their journey.

"Thanks, Stacie," Beca said sincerely. "For everything. I… we literally would be a mess without you."

"I don't doubt that," Stacie smirked to lighten the mood, "and you're welcome. I have some work left to do so I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Discmaster Studios on Sunset Boulevard."

"Got it. See you."

Beca waited for Stacie to disappear behind the doors to the studio where the showcase was being filmed, before proceeding to the exit. She considered taking Stacie's advice to go straight to the hotel and sleep it off, hopefully avoiding a potentially awkward encounter with the others by being asleep by the time they arrived. But it was too early in the evening and she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink with all the thoughts in her head anyway, so she told the cab driver to take her to the Blue Spot instead.


The downside to leaving the Midwest tour, Beca realized, was that they no longer had their instruments with them wherever they went. While they were in LA, the label took care of their equipment so if Beca ever felt the need to let her emotions out through drumming, she couldn't without signing paperwork. As a substitute, Beca presumed heading over to the jazz club would give her the same release.

Sure, it wasn't going to help clear her thoughts of Chloe, but it had jazz music, alcohol, and, hopefully, legendary jazz musicians. It was better than nothing.

Unfortunately, Del wasn't at the Blue Spot that night but two out of three worked fine for Beca, considering. In fact, she later took it as a good sign that he wasn't there; she could get loose with the alcohol without embarrassing herself in front of her hero.

When Beca had ordered her third vodka martini moments later, the waitress serving it looked down at her, placed a hand on her hip, and said, "When the bartender said there was a pale little thing getting drunk in the corner, I didn't expect it'd be you. I thought it was a leprechaun."

Beca smiled lazily up at Marguerite. "At your—hic—service."

"Oh, boy." Marguerite poured Beca a glass of water from her tray and took a seat across her. "What are you doing here, two nights in a row? Where's your girlfriend?"

Beca made a face and downed her drink in one—it was a long 'one' but she persevered through it. She slammed the empty glass down on the table and stirred the olive with the toothpick. She wasn't aware how many seconds, or minutes, had passed before she said, "Del not here?"

"You missed him by a couple of hours, said he had a gig tomorrow and had to be well-rested," Marguerite answered, eyeing the tiny brunette. "Look at you, you're a mess. Is this about your g—"

"Hey, what do you think of… me going up there after—hic—after him?" Beca slurred, pointing at the drummer on stage, working on a beat that no longer made sense to her.

"Not in your state of mind, young lady."

"Aww," Beca slumped over the table dejectedly, almost knocking the glasses off the table. "That's so unfair…"

Marguerite sighed. "All right, come on," she coaxed Beca out of her chair with difficulty. "My shift's just ended; I'll take you home. Ain't right for a woman to be drunk off her ass alone at night in this town."

"You're such a nice, nice stranger," Beca mused as she was guided toward the exit. "Are—are all strangers here as nice as you?"

"It's nice to know my words are getting through to you, then," the waitress chuckled.

"Huh?"

Once outside, Beca wrapped her arms around herself against the chilly night air while Marguerite hailed a cab. "The Barden Bellas—you're down at the Avalon Hotel right? I got a friend who waitresses at the restaurant there, said one of you always orders the giant platter of ribs for herself."

"Sounds about right, yeah." Beca climbed into the cab too eagerly, hitting her forehead on the roof. That sobered her up a bit. "Damn…"

The first few minutes of the ride were quiet. Beca kept rubbing her head gingerly, wondering which was causing her head to throb more, the alcohol or the bruise. Soon enough she began to notice, once again, the colorfully vibrant streetlights and upbeat Angeleños enjoying the nightlife.

Beca's mind was decidedly clearer than it had been a few hours ago, and in that freed up space she decided to really soak in her surroundings.

Los Angeles.

In her mind she had built it up to be the place where her dreams come true, the springboard for her career as a legitimate musician. At the end of a road lined with bright lights and screaming fans was all the glitz and glamour, the fame and fortune of being a successful artist—and getting there would take fierce and intense competition. It would have consumed her soul.

But then Beca looked out the window again, and suddenly that picture seemed almost a caricature compared to reality.

"Hey, Marguerite?" she mumbled with her chin resting on her palm as she continued to stare out the window. "You lived here long?"

"In LA?" The waitress nodded. "Took me a while to get here but yeah. Five years last month."

"Got a family?"

Marguerite chuckled. "No. No, I don't. The only husband I ever had I divorced in Reno back in '64."

Beca watched as a man on the sidewalk took off his coat and offered it to a woman she assumed was his wife. They held hands and continued their stroll down the street, smiling and pointing at everything they found amusing. A man walking in the opposite direction greeted the two with a friendly smile. A group of rowdy teenaged boys hid their cigarettes behind their backs as the couple passed and bowed politely at the woman.

It all seemed so normal.

"Do you think this is a good place to have one? A family, I mean."

Marguerite seemed to give it some serious thought. "Well, LA's got a reputation for its sins and vices but, hey, this is a pretty big county. There are some good neighborhoods on the west side if you don't mind the distance." She looked at Beca, as if to check whether she got the answer she wanted. Marguerite apparently did not think so, since she felt the need to continue.

"I guess if you're asking me personally… I'd say it depends. There're families everywhere in the world, aren't there? I suppose some places are better than others but at some point… you could live anywhere in the world and it'd still feel like home as long as you've got your loved ones with you. Don't you think so?"

Beca hummed a neutral tone. Her buzz had worn off even more and she was starting to get to her drowsy phase. She heard Marguerite's words but didn't string them together to form answers yet.

"You know, you're a weird kid," the waitress observed, not taking her eyes off of Beca slouched against the cab's window. "Most eager stars-to-be I've met in this town—and I've met plenty in my five years—get excited about the flashy stuff. You know, Hollywood and such. You're the only one looking to settle down, with all this talk about family."

Beca replied with a soft grunt. Marguerite chuckled and returned to looking out the windows on her side of the cab. "Don't worry too much, kid," she said lightly. "You're still way too young to be depressed about your future."


When Beca trudged into her room that night, both beds were empty. She barely had the energy to kick off her shoes and just plopped, facedown, onto her side of the bed the moment she did. The sheets were cold, and Chloe's absence was made all the more pronounced when Beca turned her head and saw the expanse of free bed space that was hers alone.

Beca struggled to raise herself up on her elbows so that she could army crawl toward the head of the bedframe, closer to the pillows. She sunk back down with a huge exhale and on her following intake breathed in a distinct smell—Chloe's.

Beca forced herself to twist and face the other side, not wanting more reminders to haunt her already confused dreams.


Beca overslept and it was long past breakfast when she finally awoke. After a brief moment of panic, she remembered that the Bellas only had to be at the recording studio at noon. Kicking the sheets off, Beca was mildly surprised to see that Fat Amy's bed was untouched. She assumed that Amy couldn't take the potential awkwardness either and chose to sleep elsewhere. Beca would have pondered the true reason, if only her mind wasn't running in an odd, slow motion march.

She wasn't sure if this was a side effect of a hangover, but it was as though her body was taking measures to protect herself against a sudden crash of remembering everything that happened the night—and consequently wanting to punch herself for being the cause of all of it. So instead her brain fed her information in small pieces as she went through the motions of getting ready for the day.

The Bellas are going to a recording studio today to begin work on their first album.

Beca sat up. She was alone in their hotel room and crossing the adjoining door to check on Aubrey and Emily was off-limits, according to her brain. There was nothing to say to either of the two so Beca listened instead to the rumble in her midsection informing her that she was hungry.

On her way downstairs moments later, it didn't occur to her that not running into any of her band mates, or even a member of the Treblemakers, was odd. A normally functioning Beca would have at least expected Emily and Benji to be wandering around. But now, it felt as though Beca was the only character in the story of her life. It felt slightly liberating not to have to worry so much.

But soon enough Beca started to question whether the protective measures her brain was taking were worth it, when a familiar face finally suddenly caught her attention.

"Beca!" Gail called from her desk once she saw Beca leaving the restaurant. "So you're finally awake. I was about to send room service up. There's a taxi waiting to take you to the studio—you'd better hurry!"

Beca glanced at the giant clock in the lobby indicating that it was half past twelve. That's right—the Bellas are going to a recording studio today to begin work on their first album. So Beca got into the taxi and, after the car wheeled out of the driveway, began to process the next bit of information: Stacie promised she would see Chloe first thing at the recording studio.

Now… what was Beca going to say to Chloe?


It turned out that Beca didn't need to suffer through the anxiety of listing all her issues with Chloe on the way to the studio—was Chloe really just sticking around for her? Did she expect something from Beca? Could Chloe really be happy with what she could offer?—because Chloe wasn't even the 'first thing' she saw when she walked into their recording room.

"Finally! God, you're so late—wait, where's Emily? She's not with you? Fat Amy?" Stacie looked behind Beca desperately, as though hoping to see the two pop up behind the walls to surprise her. "Great, just great—"

Beca in turn looked past Stacie toward the center of the room. Aubrey was standing with her back to Beca, her guitar case at her feet unopened.

"What's going on?" she asked Stacie. Her calm tone contrasted with Stacie's fidgety panicking. "And where's Chloe?"

Stacie seemed to soften at Beca's latter inquiry. "She said she'll follow when she's ready," she replied encouragingly, "but, Beca, our problem right now is that your band mates are nowhere to be seen, and we've already wasted forty minutes of studio time! I've asked Gail to keep a look-out in case they go back to the hotel but Aubrey says Emily disappeared after breakfast—"

"Oh, and Fat Amy never slept in our room," Beca offered helpfully, though it had the opposite effect.

"What?!" Without another word, Stacie stomped out of the room to deal with the crisis and Beca took the time to look around the recording studio.

It was large—much larger than Luke's—and had soft, white soundproofing panels padding the walls. A variety of instruments lay at the center of the room along with half a dozen microphones, and along the back wall was a window to the room with all the recording equipment. It was empty at the moment and Beca supposed it was because the artists weren't in complete attendance.

She cautiously approached Aubrey, who was standing beside the grand piano holding something in her hands—a stack of papers about half an inch thick. Beca also noticed Stacie's datebook lying open atop the piano with her signature pen beside it.

Aubrey was reading what appeared to be a contract, her brows furrowed and her lips pressed into a straight line; Beca didn't want to bother her so she quietly took a seat on the drum stool.

Save for the occasional sound of Aubrey flipping through the papers, the room was like silence in a box. Beca could practically hear her own heart pumping blood, her slow breathing like whirlwinds in a storm… If this was what it was like to have her mind clear, she didn't like it. She wanted desperately to fill that emptiness with something—anything.

So Beca picked up the sticks lying on the snare—they weren't hers, which were in her bag back at the hotel, forgotten—and twirled one between her fingers. And kept twirling and twirling, waiting for inspiration to strike until—

"Well, the good news is that Emily is okay," Stacie announced, marching into the studio irritably. "The bad news is, Jesse called telling me that Benji left him a note saying Emily's with him... at Disneyland."

Beca should have felt annoyed. Emily knew they had a session that day, why would she blatantly leave like that? But Beca wasn't annoyed; she felt happy. Happy that Emily got her wish just in time...

"And Fat Amy—for Christ's sake, that woman…"

Stacie was unaware that she was the only one actively participating in this conversation. Beca would have felt sorry for her but considering the circumstances…

"She probably ran off with one of her boy toys." Stacie shook her head, walking past Beca aimlessly as she continued her sermon. "I should have stopped that stupid game when I had the chance."

"Why? It's not like she was the only one getting screwed."

Beca turned her gaze toward Aubrey. Call it women's intuition, or maybe the fact that they'd been together nonstop for the past two months and their brainwaves somehow synchronized—but Beca understood the look on Aubrey's face the moment she approached her awhile ago. Beca knew what it meant for them, for Aubrey. For the band.

She knew why the guitar case was unopened.

"What do you…?" Stacie finally stopped her frantic pacing and glanced at the papers on the piano. In an instant, her entire spirit was doused by guilt. She licked her lips. "You went ahead and read the contract, I see."

Aubrey merely folded her arms and waited, once again, for an explanation from their manager.

"I wanted you all to be here when I explained it to you," Stacie said slowly, approaching them with even steps. "Because I knew—"

"We do my songs or we don't record anything."

Stacie paused. "Aubrey—"

"We do my songs or we don't record anything," Aubrey repeated her demand, louder.

"You're putting me in a tough spot—"

"You put us in a tough spot!" Aubrey spat, losing her composure. Her yell rang magnificently through the soundproof room. She took a calming breath that didn't seem to work. "You know what, you're a liar, Stacie. I thought I hated you because were a credit-stealing social climber but you're not—you're just a plain liar. Still the same old Ana."

Aubrey raised and pointed a finger at her. "Our contract said ten songs—ten. But I'm sorry, I guess I should have specified that I meant ten original songs!" She grabbed a fistful of the papers and threw them at Stacie, alarming Beca and Stacie with how angry she actually was. "You're asking us to do covers? Are you kidding me!"

"It's only your first album!" reasoned Stacie, though Beca didn't think she had a prayer against Aubrey's wrath, not after all this time. "Finish this and you're guaranteed another—"

"We were guaranteed this album!" Aubrey unclenched her fists and bent down for her guitar. "This is it. I'm done with you jerking us around. I quit, Stacie."


Beca watched as Aubrey walked away from everything she had worked so hard for, everything that was supposed to make all the pain they had all caused each other worth it. Beca wondered if she should have cried out and chased after Aubrey, begged her to see reason and urge her to compromise.

But why?

She didn't owe Aubrey anything; it wasn't her responsibility to fix her mess. A part of Beca, the one that still clamored for retribution, held herself back out of spite: if she couldn't make Aubrey see the error of her ways, then maybe seeing her future come crashing down might. Beca wasn't in a position to argue whether Aubrey deserved that or not, but hoping for it was immensely satisfying, if this was the way they were going to end it all.

But more importantly, Beca didn't chase after Aubrey because she really didn't want to fix this. Something broke last night and somehow the Bellas all knew. That was why Emily had the courage to up and leave for Disneyland with Benji; that was why Fat Amy never returned last night. Aubrey and Beca—they were the only ones who truly dreamed of being there, they were the ones truly starting a new life, and that was why they were the only ones who came to the studio that day. It was a small symbol of their dying hope.

But now it was truly over. The brokenness was as loud and inescapable as the silence in which Aubrey left the room.


Beca heard the rustling of papers and snapped herself back into reality. She immediately got off the stool to help Stacie gather the papers.

"No, you don't have to—" Stacie insisted, but Beca picked them up all the same. When they were all back in a pile, Stacie shook her head apologetically and sighed. "I'm so, so sorry, Beca. I really am. I knew this was going to happen but I had hoped—"

Beca shrugged off her apologies. It was just business; Stacie was their manager and they were her client. Oddly, being misled by their contract didn't seem to bother Beca as much as it should have. Maybe because, even before she found out what was written in those papers, she knew their journey had already ended. It was all just timing.

"What's gonna happen now?" was all she asked.

"Well, if Aubrey absolutely refuses to make the album," Stacie said uncomfortably, "then the Bellas are in breach of contract—no one's going to prison or anything," she assured quickly, "but… you'd have to be out of the hotel by the afternoon I'm afraid. It's company policy. We can't, er, pay for you anymore. Sorry."

Beca waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, I get it." Then she looked around. Her brain was thankfully still doing its job blocking out all thoughts of the distant future, so she decided to make the most of it. "You've already paid for the studio time though, right? You mind if I hang around a bit?"

"Go ahead. It's the least I could do," said Stacie. "I was right about you. You are the smart one."

"Just taking your money's worth," Beca responded cheekily.

With an emotion-filled exchange of what might be their farewells, she and Stacie turned their backs on each other and began walking in opposite directions; Beca toward the drums, Stacie toward the door. Then suddenly the latter turned around.

"You're the smart one," Stacie repeated. Beca turned around and listened. "Fat Amy's the fool. Emily's the innocent. Aubrey is," she gave a wistful chuckle, "the talent, unfortunately. And Chloe…" She searched Beca's eyes. "Chloe's someone special. Aubrey may have been right about my reasons for hiring her but by the end Chloe wasn't just your publicist. Her passion, her kindness, and her love for the music were essential to the group. I guess what I'm trying to say is… every cent I gave up was worth it. I should have said that last night."

Beca smiled at her gratefully. She was comforted by the look in Stacie's eyes that assured her that Chloe was treated to these praises last night. The door closed softly behind Stacie, leaving Beca alone in the complete silence of the room.

Now it was her turn to make amends for last night. All she had to do was wait for Chloe to arrive. Beca returned to the drum set, picked up the sticks, and began twirling one in her hand.


Response to Reviews:

c8-17 (Nov. 21) - Thank you! It wasn't that difficult, to be honest; the movies were more similar than I initially thought. But the toughest task would have to be spinning Aubrey into a (fractionally) likeable character despite Jimmy not being one haha.

jalex1 (Nov. 21) - It's great that some sharp readers like yourself picked up on the odd way Chloe left Barden. We'll see more of that soon but for this chapter, let's see what Beca's been up to.

Guest (Nov. 21) - Haha sorry to disappoint you! Unfortunately, Beca didn't feel like she had the right to. And to be honest I don't think Aubrey realizes how important Chloe is to the band.

Reader (Nov. 21) - Don't worry! I ended Chapter Elven abruptly for dramatic reasons but of course someone thought to stop her haha.

Big fan (Nov. 21) - Big thanks, big fan! *bow* Your hope has been partially answered, I guess?

Bechloe fan (Nov. 21) - Exactly! And what a shrewd observation there about no one jumping in to defend her. Do they actually feel the same way?

pineappletini (Nov. 21) - Oh, I had a minor (more like minuscule) subplot for Beca's old band. We'll see how that goes – if at all haha.

RJRMovieFan (Nov. 22) - Haha I feel like I'm disappointing everyone right now with how I handled Aubrey.


Quick Note about Aubrey

I won't explain Aubrey in-depth yet – you have the Aubrey-centric chapter to look forward to for that – but I did want to actively check on how you guys felt after this chapter. Did Aubrey explain herself well enough? Does Beca's (lack of a) reaction surprise you, or did it make sense why? Did I save Aubrey too soon? etc. You reacted just as I expected after Chapter Eleven, but now that more light has been shed in the aftermath, I want to know if I've been able to paint Aubrey as the complex character that she is (more complex than even Beca or Chloe, I think) before I dive into her chapter.


A/N: The movie completely glosses over what happens between the scenes in the dressing room when Faye (Chloe) leaves and at the studio where Jimmy (Aubrey) quits so I had to fill in the blanks a bit. I hope you still found it coherent.