Beca had worn the suit already recently so she didn't have much choice as she got ready for Elle; she slipped into the swanky black dress. She could have gone shopping for something new but it was the freaking day before Christmas so - fuck it. Last minute Christmas shopping in L.A. was no joke. It was like Black Friday all over again. She wasn't even sure she wanted this date anyway and she sure as fuck wasn't in the mood for crowds so - yeah - 'fuck it' pretty much summed it up.
And she was running late. Like, really late. Her hair had taken her longer than she expected to flat iron completely straight….she hadn't had enough coffee...and she was - so - freaking - fucking tired. Her nightly - as it was now - trips through the bathroom at The Royal or through her parent's divorce had amped up to a predatory level.
Lately she felt like she had ten pounds weighing on each shoulder, trying to hold her captive and dragging her down.
She was off kilter.
She studied herself in the mirror, worrying her lip. She couldn't decide if this dress was too...revealing? It dipped all the way down to mid sternum; she had to tape it in place. I mean, to be fair she got it for red carpet type events but Elle had said formal/black tie. And, this was a date, right? Revealing was a good thing - on a - date...maybe?
She had gotten it because it was kind of edgy/music producer-y but was that what she wanted on a date…on Christmas Eve? Was there a rule about that? Maybe she should put some tinsel in her hair or hang some Christmas ornaments from her ears – something…
Ugh.
Why did she agree to this?
She turned from the mirror before she could second guess herself some more. That would literally help nothing and no one. It especially wouldn't help the knots that her stomach was currently twisting itself into.
Would it be weird if she poured herself a drink?
She checked her phone and wished she hadn't. She had been checking her phone like every five minutes and that wasn't helping. She had been doing it for the last few days and the result hadn't changed. Nothing. No texts, no calls, nothing.
And she wasn't going to break the silence.
She didn't even want to - kind of.
She couldn't.
If she did then it would have to start all over again and she couldn't do that, didn't have it in her.
This had to happen.
Chloe might not know it, but she needed Beca to stay strong here.
Or maybe she just needed herself to stay strong.
Whatever.
She didn't know. She was too confused. That feeling of having ripped off her own arm hadn't faded.
The doorbell rang, snatching her from her thoughts, "Fuck!"
She turned and shuffled down the stairs, heels in hand and hopping, hobbling as she tried to put them on and walk at the same time.
"Shit, shit, shit," she realized she still had a cigarette dangling from her lips, the ash hanging precariously, just as she was swinging open the front door.
Fuck! She winked up at Elle, one eye closed to avoid the smoke, "Hi!" Beca did her best not to show that she was breathing hard. It wasn't from her run down the stairs, it was just that...date…
She was a hot mess right now and she couldn't even deny it.
Elle was gorgeous, her long black dress far more traditional and flattering than Beca's was.
"Uuuuh, right, would you like to come in for a drink or should we just uh, yeah?"
Elle chuckled taking her in, "I think that perhaps we should go. Are you...alright?"
"Right," Beca said a little too loudly. "Yeah, yeah! I'm - I'm good! Let's do this thang."
This was so fucking weird.
They had decided to share a car, Elle insisted on driving and Beca allowed it, feeling strange at having someone else do what she normally would have done.
She tried hard not to fill the silent car ride with thoughts of Chloe, but it was fucking impossible.
...They weren't speaking...
It was probably a good thing. Well no, it wasn't good, not at all but it was probably something that had to happen.
Still.
It was strange.
And she kept picturing that moment right before Chloe had run from the condo, that moment that she had covered her face, hiding her tears, hiding them from Beca.
It had been one of the strangest moments ever.
This was Chloe. She didn't hide her emotions, not from her, not really from anyone.
Honestly, it was pissing her off that she was thinking about Chloe at all. She shouldn't be thinking about her, not right now. She was literally on a date with someone else. And she shouldn't feel this guilty.
She smiled a bit at Elle and Elle smiled back.
"I don't mind if you smoke."
"What?"
"I don't mind if you want to smoke. You seem," Elle's hand fell to her knee, giving it a soft stroke, "you seem so nervous."
"Yeah." Beca tried to laugh but it felt like sandpaper in her throat, "It's uh, it's been awhile - since I've done this - I mean. Want one?"
To Beca's surprise, Elle's long fingers reached over and smoothly took the cigarette that Beca had just placed between her own lips. Beca stumbled for a second, watching as Elle closed her hand around Beca's, bringing it and the lighter in Beca's palm to her, lighting it and then holding both out in front of Beca so she could light another one for herself.
Chloe had used to do stuff like that to her, these boldly flirtatious things just to see how Beca would respond. No, Chloe still did those types of things. She had gotten kind of used to it but – now – it was the wrong face giving her that knowing smirk.
"I don't let myself smoke often anymore," Elle said casually, finally releasing Beca's hand, "I quit five years ago but on occasion it's a nice treat."
"Five years, wow!" Beca mumbled, head not fully cleared of her thoughts yet.
"Yes, my sister never touched a cigarette in her life and yet we lost her five years ago to throat cancer. It was highly motivating."
"Oh, uh, wow! I'm really sorry." Beca frowned at the lit thing in her hands, feeling guilty. "Were you close?" She asked because she didn't know what else to say.
"We were sisters." Elle gave her a smile and unclipped her seatbelt.
"Oh! Uh, crap!" Beca hadn't realized they had pulled up to the valet.
"Have you ever been to this event before? I hear it's annually thrown."
"Nope. P.J. usually comes so I've never felt the need to. He'll probably be here."
Elle nodded and Beca jumped as she felt her hand fall to her arm, taking it gently.
It was nice. Elle seemed to know a lot more people than Beca thought a recent transplant would, then again the moving distance from New York to L.A. always seemed to be much shorter than anywhere else.
Elle kept introducing her to anyone and everyone they came across as her date, which was kind of great. It was nice to actually be the date and not just some girl. It was nice to be there with someone, to be acknowledged, though, it didn't quite pack the punch that she had thought it would. Maybe because she didn't really know this woman - maybe because she wasn't Chloe. What did it matter if she was being claimed as someone's date when she didn't even know that person - when she felt nothing for them?
Okay, just because you're doing this doesn't mean you get to sit here all emo, Beca! You have to stop thinking shit like that because really – you just have to.
She did her best to clear her thoughts, sipping champagne and chatting lightly with Elle, feeling unusually quiet as she beat the thoughts of Chloe back with a bat. It was just - ugh, how could she have been so upset the other day? She made sure no one thought they were together - ever. It was a fucking phobia of hers. She ran from the relationship title like crazy, like it would eat her if it got too close….then, of course, she would do things like make her feel her belly and ask her to sing to the baby. She would hold her hand in public, she would fuck her any day, anytime, but then would jump when anyone mentioned them as a couple. How did that work?!
The problem was that Beca felt claimed. She felt like she was Chloe's but that was just stupid because she had been feeling that for years. It didn't make it real. She could feel like a freaking butterfly but it wouldn't make her one. It didn't make it anything less than stupid.
And once freaking again, Beca, this is the damn point.
"Would you like to dance?"
Beca jumped as she felt Elle's hand slide politely to the small of her back. "Uh, sure?"
Elle was good company. This was stupid. She needed to get her head together.
Only she - she thought about Chloe – she should have been swept off of her fucking feet as Elle led her around the dance floor, talking with her in a low voice. But she couldn't. She was thinking about Chloe. She thought about her as they joined into conversations, she thought about her with every long glance from Elle, every touch of her hand, every flirtatious joke.
Elle was charming.
She was a great date.
And yet, Beca was thinking of Chloe.
Where was she? What was she doing? Was she okay? How was Legacy? She thought of Chloe as P.J. threw his arm around her and clinked his cider to her champagne, sending Elle a very confused look as he did it. The poor guy, he just had absolutely no idea what was going on in her life.
It was a good first date and yet Beca thought of Chloe even as they got into the car at the end of the night.
Elle was quite a smooth talker and more than once Beca had felt her cheeks flush. And yet, her head, it felt thick, too full, uncomfortable.
When Elle parked the car at Beca's condo, insisting on walking her to the door, she felt her head swim. Did she want what was probably going to happen when they got to her front door? Or at least - what she thought would happen? What she would have meant by 'let me walk you to the door'?
She couldn't decide.
Chloe's face flashed across her mind and Beca flinched, annoyed.
Part of her thought that she would feel better after she bent Elle into a pretzel. Like she had said before, the woman was hot and some - fun - could be, would be, good. Elle was making it abundantly clear that she would welcome going to bed with her. So...
She nodded and Elle got out and, reaching out, she took Beca's hand.
Elle was nice.
She liked her well enough. So…
"So what are you planning on doing tomorrow?"
"Um, I hear there is an all-day marathon of 'A Christmas Story' and I've only seen it about four times this year so I think I had better tune into that for a few hours."
Elle laughed, "I like your sense of humor."
"Thanks?"
She felt her fingers start to sweat and even though she didn't want to, she remembered the day that Chloe had mauled her in this elevator, when she had attacked her with her lips and her body simply because Beca had been given another woman's phone number.
Okay, yeah, she knew that Chloe didn't want her to date, she kind of knew that Chloe wanted her for herself - literally. She knew that, she wasn't stupid. She knew that Chloe cared about her - she still thought that there was a good chance that Chloe loved her - but -
It wasn't enough.
"So." Elle stopped just outside of the door.
"Yeeeeaaaaah."
"Enjoy that marathon. I might be tuning in myself." Beca felt a frown coming, waiting for Elle to ask if she wanted to watch together, waiting for some other date-like offer followed by a 'well it seems silly to go home if I will just be back in the morning…' But none came. Instead, Elle began to lean forward.
Shit. Shit,shit,shit!
Elle just gave her a soft lingering kiss on the cheek, "I'll call you."
"'Kay," she wheezed.
Beca was glad as she watched the doors close Elle into the elevator, taking her away.
God, she was so lame! Since when couldn't she even have some random and fun sex?
Except. Maybe that was the problem, Elle wasn't random enough.
She let herself into the condo and stopped just inside the door, not even bothering to close it because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she so did not want to be there.
She just needed to fucking get out of her head for a while. She just needed something to happen. She just needed to not be -
Maybe she should call Elle back, spike the punch and have a crazy night; the kind she used to have. Elle seemed very dignified and professional but something made her think that she could have a good time if prompted. Plus, she was pretty sure that Elle would make a very good pretzel.
Then she laughed because if she wanted a pretzel then she knew who to call, who could literally tie herself into one. She had seen Chloe in yoga positions that would make a weaker woman cry.
"FUCK!" She shouted into the silent condo.
She just needed her out of her head for a few fucking minutes! Like - any time now - that would be welcome any freaking time now!
She turned on her heels and stomped back to the elevator.
Beca had never felt so fucking welcome in a place before. Screw the fashion show, this was her very own goddamn red carpet event; her very own 'Hello Dolly' scene. All she had done was walk inside, free of charge, and straight to the bar, still five people had already stopped to greet her with more enthusiasm than she was pretty sure she deserved.
This was where she belonged. The Royal was her home. Why had she ever let herself think otherwise? Because of one stupid, bad, traumatic night? That was dumb. These were her people.
"Hey, Tony!"
The downstairs bartender did a quick double take, "Well if it isn't our very own House Bex! Damn girl, look at you! And all dressed up like a fucking queen!"
Beca gave him a small sarcastic curtsy, "I think there's only room for one queen at this bar, though Tony, and it isn't me!"
Tony roared with laughter.
"House Bex! Holy shit, get her a shot on me, bartender!" The woman beside her cried and then a man two down insisted that he had next. She didn't recognize either of them but Beca wasn't all that surprised by that. It happened a lot. She had been drunk there so often that it wasn't surprising when someone came up and insisted that they met the night before. It had happened so often that she had begun to just take people's word for it. Maybe she had, maybe she hadn't. Either way, whatever.
Both shots were lined up, plus a third that Tony insisted was 'on the house for House'. Beca tipped the glasses in salute to each person and then threw them back one by one, embracing the familiar hot fire as it went down her throat.
She talked to Tony for a minute and then decided to start up to the third floor since that had always been where her people were.
It was strange, her dress was completely out of place there and yet she suddenly didn't care.
She didn't care about anything.
And it was fucking great.
This place, it was a not-caring haven.
This was why she loved it.
"Yo, lil' mama! No shit!" EZTeez slapped his knee when, habitually she turned and entered the party room he had always occupied. She hadn't even meant to, she had just done it so many times that her body had taken her there all on its own. Maybe she shouldn't have just waltzed in like she fucking owned the place, but, it kind of couldn't be helped. This was her place, god damn it.
"Heeeey EZ, what'ditdo, buddy?" she cried, bouncing her shoulders playfully and giving the crew around her a fist bump each in turn. She didn't even care right now that these were the guys who drove her fucking nuts, she didn't even care that she had recently heard that EZ was recording a ghetto version of 'Mambo No 5', she didn't even fucking care that EZ had walked away from her. Hell no, not with the way he was grinning at her like she was the fucking shiz.
He laughed, getting up and flopping an arm over her, "Aaawwwe yaya! Now the party can start, mama! This place hasn't been the damn same since you left. What the hell brings you here on this yuletide eve?"
"The need of libation, my friend."
"Ha!" He scoffed, "I heard that. Yo Clay, go get us a bottle to celebrate." He pulled Beca back to the couch and she sat down next to him, doing her best not to think about the things she had seen done on it, hell the things she had done on it while drunk. She wondered if they were ever cleaned. Probably not. If she reached between the cushions she would probably find a pair or two of Hunny's underwear there and definitely at least one pair her own.
Before she knew it, she had a shot in one hand and a flute of champagne in the other and she was god damn giddy about that fact.
"So how's the new label? I've been thinking of, uh, running by and checking it out." EZ said, suggestion high in his tone.
Beca scoffed, the alcohol already going to her head, "Yeah right. Don't let P.J. hear that."
"What, you don't have room for me and my crew?"
"Ha!" She took another shot, "I don't think your crew has room for me, EZ. Let's not fool ourselves into thinking that you guys didn't hate working with me."
"Whoa." Her eyes were already getting foggy but she looked up and was startled to see Hunny looking down at her from across the room, her face just about as dumbstruck as Beca felt.
Errrrr, yeah, she hadn't thought about the fact that she would probably see Hunny. She gave a shrug and looked away, back to the conversation she had been having with EZ.
A balloon of sadness popped inside of her as she realized that must mean that the rehab hadn't worked. Then someone handed her another drink, she had no idea what, and she swallowed it down, feeling better and better as the thoughts she didn't want just drifted away. Hunny wasn't a redhead anymore and Beca would love to know what spawned that choice. She was now a toxic, bleach blonde that didn't quite work as well and yet totally worked. Props to her stylist. It was edgy.
Out of the corner of her vision she saw Hunny frowning at Beca's lack of response to her, at the fact that she was ignoring her. She seemed to teeter between staying and leaving before she decided to settle into a seat far away from her.
Beca wasn't ignoring her because she was pissed at her, honestly, she probably should be but she wasn't really, not tonight. Mostly she was just going to keep ignoring her because looking at her made her sad.
And she didn't want to be sad.
She needed more to drink.
A few people came into the room, all insisting they heard that House was there and all bearing tidings of great joy – in shot form. She took them all without hesitation, sending happy winks and dry sarcasm at each of them.
Man. She had been thinking for months now that 'House Bex' was kind of bad, not really someone she wanted to be but this was fucking awesome, this was the shit. Everyone here loved her and she had artists literally throwing themselves at her right now. And she was getting a thick, vindictive pleasure at the fact that EZ was clearly foaming at the bit to get over to Grasshopper.
Why was this bad?
Okay, yeah, so maybe that whole car crash thing had been bad and yeah, maybe Hunny needed to be in rehab and – stuff – but this was awesome. Maybe she needed to rethink her life choices.
Beca had decided to ignore Hunny because she made her feel bad, but over the next hour she began to ignore her for other reasons. As a matter of fact, this wasn't the first time it had been like this. The more that Beca ignored Hunny, the more she saw the woman twitch, wanting the attention that Beca knew Hunny felt she deserved. It was a game she had played with her before, though she wasn't sure that Hunny knew that they used to do it. Send the occasional glance, only look at her when she was speaking to the group - keep her face impartial, speak to her politely but stiffly and only when spoken to - keep her on the edge of her seat. She hadn't meant to start playing that game, even though it had always turned Hunny into a frustrated, mewling, begging mess. She really hadn't. It was just that there was alcohol in her system and she could feel Hunny twitching for her attention and it was all so familiar that it had just happened. Finally Hunny stood, her eyebrows pressed into a thin line and Beca felt her lips twitch.
She waited for Hunny to come in swinging, yelling about the fact that she was being ignored, to literally throw herself on her, forcing Beca to notice her but she approached with all of her charm, all of her swagger and an edge of something new. She would put dollars on the idea that her agent was pushing that whole I'm-wise-now-that-I've-been-to-rehab thing. It was a good cover, preach about the program, talk openly about your mistakes; it was a cover she would have used for someone who wasn't all that repentant too. Everyone loves a redemption story.
"So, Bexy," Beca blinked up at her, "whaddya say? Buy a girl a drink?"
Beca frowned, the thing was, she hadn't actually thought about what she would do if Hunny did approach her. She knew that she had to make a choice, if she got up then she would have company for the night, hell, she could probably have company for the next day too. Hunny also made a pretty good pretzel and they could have some fun. A lot of fun.
She rose and let Hunny put her arm around her waist, leading them away and to the third-floor bar with obvious satisfaction. Hunny's face looked like a woman who had just been handed a Bachelor rose.
"I'm surprised to see you here."
Beca just shrugged, waving the bartender over and ordering their two go-to shots.
"You remember."
"We were kind of fucking for like a year, Hunny." She shrugged, "It wasn't that long ago, either."
"Oooh, and here I thought that you had forgotten that fact."
Beca scoffed, "Yeah, so, if you're going to start some shit Hun, then I'm gonna go ahead and,"
"Whoa now!" Hunny cried, grabbing a fistful of her hair in that way that Hunny used to do whenever Beca tried to walk away from her, a strong fistful, right at the base of her head. She had never been much into hair pulling, Chloe kind of was, but still, it never failed to send a shiver of goosebumps all through Beca's body. "I'm sorry," Hunny whined, "I'll be a good girl."
"Um-hmm." Beca rolled her eyes.
"So. How is the wifey?"
Beca ordered and took another shot before she answered, "She's not my wife." She knew her voice was flat, Hunny would have heard it too, but she pressed.
"Alright, Fred I'll rephrase, what happened to Ginger? You two have a fight?" Hunny asked, her face pulling into a comical pout.
Beca eyed her, realizing that it was early. Hunny wasn't all of that fucked up yet. Maybe - but no, she gave up the hope that maybe Hunny was taking better care of herself. The fact that she was here was proof enough that she wasn't. "Yeah, I kinda really don't want to talk about Chloe. Thanks." In truth, Hunny didn't look so great. She was too thin, far thinner than she had been last time that Beca had seen her, her skin wasn't really the right color, and her hair seemed to have a distinct wilt. She could see bags under her eyes. Not horrible ones, but the bags were enough for her to realize that if they showed that well under her makeup then they were probably kind of intense.
"Okay then, do you want to dance?"
"That," Beca cleared her throat, shaking the thoughts away, "is something that I do want to do."
"Well let's go then."
It felt great to be here, moving to the beat beside the familiar body - okay, against the familiar body – very - against. She felt like the old Beca - like House Bex - which was so liberating, so freeing. She felt herself passed from one pair of arms to the next and to the next, taking a second to greet the people she used to know and, like it had always been, feeling Hunny against her back. She thought that maybe she kind of liked that. She liked this feeling of freedom. And maybe she hadn't been fair to Hunny. She had just sort of kicked her to the curb after so long of hooking up. She had barely said goodbye. That hadn't been right. Hunny had always been there for her and she just kind of bailed. Plus, like, the thing was maybe she had not had enough appreciation for the type of comfort that Hunny was willing to offer her. No strings attached, nothing serious, just casual fun and someone to fill the space in her bed when she needed it.
Whatever. She didn't need to think about this. That was the beauty of this place. She didn't need to think about anything here, ever. That was the point.
She reached up and pulled her hair out of its tight hold, shaking it out and wishing that she had changed. Instantly she felt Hunny's nose slide up the back of her neck and Beca jumped, unsure. It took another stroke, and then another before she melted into it, dancing, not caring. The music was what mattered. Didn't have to think, remember?
A track started and Beca turned, looking up at the D.J., "What?" She cried as one of her old - old - old club mixes began to play.
"I told him you were here!" Hunny yelled, pulling her in by the hips, "This one was always my favorite! Do you remember why?"
Ha! Yeah, she did.
She felt Hunny's hips move against hers and she tried to follow suit but it just wasn't working.
"You need more to drink!" Hunny announced, sensing her hesitance.
"God, yes," she moaned, "Thank you! Yeah, I do!"
And so she drank.
She drank and she danced and she danced.
She tied one on that could have gone down in history and while she did Hunny was at her side, touching her, stroking her, teasing, and hinting.
She had forgotten how much fun this place was, how much fun Hunny was.
God, she had forgotten that Hunny was a great kisser.
Wait, she blinked a little, when had she gotten into this dark corner with Hunny? She couldn't remember.
Hunny's lips felt foreign now as they bit down on her throat, pulling a moan from her. It was strange; she had known them so well once. She had known this feeling so well, arousal mixed with inebriation. It was such a heady, freaking wonderful mix, it had been her home base. She felt her body responding primally and she loved it. It was so easy, so simple, there was no complication here, it was bodily.
She felt Hunny graze her breast and moaned again, surprised that she didn't care. She just wanted the ache that was building around her heart to go the fuck away.
She pushed Hunny away and then pulled her gruffly back to the bar. A few shots later and she tried again. This time the ache was there, but it was dull, broken, distant in the back of her mind as Hunny's hand slipped under the tape of the dress to pinch a bare breast.
She felt Hunny's tongue massaging her own, felt her lips pressing into hers.
She let out a yelp as Hunny suddenly flipped them, pushing Beca into the wall, grinding against her ass, taking, sucking on the back of her neck.
God, it was so fucking good.
Who needed - who needed her anyway.
She loved feeling like this woman again, feeling like the version of herself who had already crossed this bridge, had already learned to ignore the hurt around her heart, learned to live with it, the one who had already walked away from Chloe.
She was the smarter woman, not the woman that Beca had thought she wanted to be now.
She opened her eyes with a gasp as Hunny gripped her hips, banging her own into her suggestively.
Ew. Was that gum? There was gum on the wall like an inch from her face.
Gross.
Hunny did it again and Beca cried out, trying hard not to think of the time that Chloe had enjoyed the use of her strap-on. That had been the last time someone had bent her over anything, hadn't it? And god, Chloe had. Her lady, who could be so classy and naturally elegant when she wanted to be, had done some amazingly dirty things to her that day and it had been awesome because she had done them all completely lost in her, absorbing her, touching her face, kissing her like she -
Fuck.
Not.
Now.
She stared at the blue blob, her frown growing.
She just needed to not look at it. She turned her head but facing this way she quickly began to notice a smell. Had this place always smelled? Or were they next to the bathroom? Hunny was a minute from pulling her skirt up, which, she wanted her to do - she thought - but there was this weird toilet and vomit smell in the back of her nose. And it was loud. God, it was really fucking loud.
"Hey EZ," Hunny laughed as the man walked to the bar a few feet away, "Get us a drink."
He paused, taking a second to appreciate the sight and then nodded. The man had seen more lesbian play than Hugh Hefner just by hanging out with them.
A minute later Beca was embarrassed to find that she was faced with her former client, breathless, ready to be fucked already but pausing to take a shot as a trio, just like old times. She knew that this wasn't new to him, but suddenly being the one about to be devoured she was - embarrassed.
"Man, oh man," he chuckled, taking in Beca's ragged hair and the way she kind of swayed where she stood, "I guess a tiger really can't change its stripes, huh House? Thank god for that." He took a moment to make the catholic cross before he kissed his fingers and held them up to the sky.
But Beca was thinking of something else.
What if this got back to her clients?
Kendra or oh god, Hope's parents?
She couldn't even fucking imagine what would happen there. Hope was a kid, and Linda and Heck had already been wary of Beca because of that whole Bellas MuffGate thing. They trusted her to be a good influence on their little girl.
God, this was so fucking lame.
This was the kind of shit she didn't want to think about. And she was drunk! She wasn't supposed to be thinking like this when she was drunk!
Fuck, it would be even better if she was suddenly out of commission because Hunny gave her some strain of Super-Chlamydia. How the fuck would she explain that?
EZ shook his head, laughing as he started away.
"Whatever. Where were we?"
"I think I was somewhere about here."
"Right." Hunny shoved her around and against the wall again, pressing into her front, her hands walking down her thighs, over her ass.
Maybe they should leave.
Maybe that would -
The bathroom scent washed over her again and suddenly her latest dream wracked through her, making her gasp.
Hunny groaned, thinking it had been her to pull that from her.
Beca could see Hunny's unconscious face, she could see Jeremy's sweat-stained face. She felt her hands on Hunny's hips; she was so thin, too thin. She wondered what she was using now. Was there anything much worse than the heroine that Hunny had ODed on? God. The answer to that was unfortunately yes.
Not wanting these thoughts she pushed Hunny's face into her own neck, knowing that Hunny would sink her teeth in. "Harder. Fucking harder!" She cried out in pain and the vividness of the dream faded, mercifully. Thank god. But instead another face popped into her mind, Emily.
God, Emily.
Her friend.
Who was off the wagon.
Emily who felt so different these days.
Her little Flashlight.
Chloe had been right, they needed to call Benji. They needed to do something. She couldn't just let her keep going. She couldn't let her turn into Hunny. She, ugh, cheesy, but she loved her. She was one of her best friends.
God damn it! She pressed herself into Hunny's thigh, looking for that feeling, looking for that ability to drift away fully but it wasn't happening. Actually, the more she tried the less it worked. She wanted to feel it, she wanted it to be like before, she wanted it to be like Chloe had never come back, like she had never, ever come back so Beca didn't have to feel this used, this unwanted, this guilty, like she had never come back to mess up the life that Beca had been living with her fake promises and her flashing eyes. She wished that she didn't love her, she didn't want to love her, she didn't want - she didn't – she wished she had never fucking met her!
She broke off the kiss with a gasp, that pain that she had been trying to push away was suddenly there tenfold, making her stagger, making her moan.
"Bex? What's wrong?"
Like Chloe had never come home? Like she had never known her at all? Oh god.
She didn't want that.
How could she ever want that?
And this, she pushed Hunny away, she didn't want this either. This wasn't who she wanted to be. She hadn't made the fucking choice to be someone else, to have a different life for Chloe.
Suddenly she felt dirty, disgusting.
She needed a shower.
She knew that Hunny was trying to pull her back in but Beca shoved her off, "Let me go!"
"Yeah, merry fucking Christmas to you too, Beca."
But she barely heard her.
She just wanted to fucking go home.
Beca woke up the next morning feeling renewed - which - she found pretty impressive because not only had she consumed her weight in alcohol the night before but she also hadn't gone to bed more than two hours earlier. She had caught a taxi as soon as she stepped from the club, and while the taxi had been one of those annoying chatty ones, she had gotten lost in her thoughts pretty quickly. She wasn't sure where the thought had come from but for some reason she had begun to think about an old photo of herself and Chloe at a party. She had been nineteen or so at the time when it was taken, she thought. It had been a good party too, clearly, because Chloe had been completely passed out in the photo, dead to the world after too many drinks. In the shot Chloe's face had been nestled in the crook of Beca's neck and while Beca wasn't even looking at the camera, as a matter of fact she had been looking elsewhere entirely, she had been laughing with someone. In the photo she had an arm clutched carefully around Chloe's waist, holding her there, holding her in her chair and against her.
Beca had drunkenly become obsessed. She had spent the ride scrolling through old Facebook photo albums, surprised as to how many photos really did exist of the pair of them. She scrolled through, looking at each one in turn. She had been so focused that she thought she had perhaps way overpaid the driver but oh well, he was driving a cab in the early hours of Christmas day, he deserved it. She hadn't found the photo online though and once she got inside she had stumbled drunkenly through a shower and then sat on her bed, laptop in her lap, looking through her personal stash of photos.
She hadn't cried, she had promised herself that she wouldn't cry over this anymore but she had stayed up, studying the curve of Chloe's face, the smile on her own face in each picture, the way they were looking at one another.
The sun had been almost fully up by the time that she had gone to bed.
She couldn't understand how she felt so good.
Well, she didn't.
She felt like shit.
She had spent a while hovering over the toilet, begging to be sick just so she might feel a little better but her body wouldn't allow it.
She had finally given up, taken a few painkillers and made a choice. Sitting there beside the toilet, she had made a choice.
That hadn't been - good - last night - that had been - really bad, actually.
God, she wished that it had been anyone but Hunny. She wished it had been Elle, or anyone really. More than anything, she wished that she didn't have a stupid scabbed over double crescent bite mark on her neck.
It had been bad.
And it's badness had been what had pushed her over the edge.
She had gotten up - renewed - pissed off and determined and she had broken every single cigarette in the house. She had done it before she had allowed herself to think and then she had changed and gone down to the second-floor gym, working out until she had finally, mercifully, been sick.
This was who she wanted to be.
Well, maybe not the chic who was puking into the gym bathroom toilet thanks to her hangover.
Beca Effin' Mitchell was a badass. She didn't smoke. She worked out. She took care of herself. She could handle things like normal relationships. She had a badass label that was going to get her somewhere.
She wanted to be an adult. A real adult. She wanted to not drink coffee after ten in the morning because it made her sleep poorly, she wanted to pay all of her bills early, she wanted to buy a car because it was rated high in safety features. Because being a real badass, yeah, that wasn't about how many shots you could drink, or women you could bang. Not at all.
She wanted to be a badass and she was going to make it happen.
Because she was Beca Effin' Mitchell.
Somewhere.
It had actually been kind of cool. For a moment there she had felt like her old self, like the Bellas captain who had performed for the president and had led the first American team to win a national title – the one who had made a demo which a big time producer had liked. She was a badass, or, well, she wanted to be one.
And - you know, she had felt like a badass - until the moment she had run to the bathroom to lose everything in her stomach.
Now, as she was pulling on her shittiest, most comfortable clothes and groaning because somehow she was already sore, she felt a little less like an ass kicking bitch.
That was kind of okay though because she could feel it was still there - somewhere.
She hobbled downstairs and sat with a flop on the couch, just beside Emily's head.
Her friend must have thought that she wasn't coming home the night before because she hadn't once allowed herself to be seen like this.
She looked like she was just asleep, yeah, but Beca knew she wasn't. She could smell the thick scent of spiked eggnog - which almost sent her running back to the bathroom. Her hangover was just not okay with that thought. Eggnog. Ugh.
She wondered if maybe Emily had been drinking a bit more than normal because she was unhappy to be here in the condo on Christmas Eve, by herself instead of with her weird, squishy teddy bear of a boyfriend.
Beca could sympathize. And she wished that she had been here the night before.
She had been avoiding picking up her phone all morning, not sure if she wanted to see it full of messages or if she was afraid to see it blank.
Her heart leapt when she saw a message, answering her question for her, but then it crashed just as quickly when she realized the message was from Elle… not from…
"Good morning and Merry Christmas! I was just wondering, did you have fun at all last night? I know that I did."
Beca dropped the phone into her lap.
So she had made a good impression then. Awesome. She groaned and let her head fall back onto the cushions.
"Hey." She shook Emily. "Flashlight. Wake up. Emily."
Shit, she had forgotten how bad hangovers were.
Emily groaned, "Whaaaat?"
"Get up."
Emily shuffled, trying to hide her face from the invading sun, trying to hide that she felt anything other than skippy at that moment, trying to pretend her hangover wasn't happening. "Uuuugh, morning. Sorry. Sleep, fell asleep watching - watching 'A Christmas Story'," she yawned out, "Coffee?"
Beca nodded, and she watched Emily get up wobbly. She let her make the coffee without her, wondering if she was doing the hair of the dog trick that she had taught Beca. She knew she heard the rattle of some pain medicine or other at some point.
Eventually, Emily returned with two empty mugs and the steeping french press.
"You look like crap."
Beca laughed, "Right back at ya, babe."
Emily frowned, folding herself into the couch beside her. "I'm sorry, that was mean. I'm grumpy. Merry Christmas, Bec." She watched the girl smile, pleased - more than she thought she would be - when she saw Flashlight shining through. Emily leaned forward and hugged her and Beca hugged back, maybe a little too tightly. "I'm surprised you're here."
"What? Why? Where else would I be?"
"With Chlo. Obvs."
Beca scoffed, picking at a hole in her sweats, "Shows how in sync we've been, Flash. Chlo and I haven't been, I dunno, yeah, we just haven't really been talking. Like we broke up - not that there was anything to break up. But uh, ugh, some - stupid shit has happened. And - yeah."
"Wait. What do you mean? She's been here like every day."
"What?"
"What do you mean 'what'? What, 'what'? She's been here. I assumed with you. She's been kind of -" Emily turned a slight shade of pink and sent Beca a guilty look.
"Annoying?" Beca supplied, "It's okay Em, you can say that Chloe was annoying. I, of all freaking people, know how annoying Chloe can be. And, I dunno, if she's been here then I didn't know. I haven't been. Not until yesterday. I've been staying at Grasshopper. She must have been looking for me." She groaned, head hitting the couch.
"What happened?" Emily poured them each a cup with such sympathy in her eyes that, damn it, Beca broke down again.
She had been doing that so much! What the fuck?
She explained about all of the times that Chloe insisted that they weren't together, she explained about her promise to Chloe, the principal and the hospital and everything in between. By the time she was done she was hiccupping lamely but she didn't feel embarrassed, Emily had a way of listening that made you feel like you could say or do anything and she wouldn't judge you. So she told her about her realization, about the fact that she was stepping away.
"Forever?" Emily asked, her eyes wide.
"I dunno, I don't think so. I don't want that. But maybe if I step back then we can be friends again one day." Except…
Emily looked about as confused as Beca felt.
"It's just like - um," Beca picked at a fingernail as she spoke, "you ever been in a situation where everything, like literally everything, could be fanfuckingtastic, totally fucking perfect, if this one thing could happen - but that one stupid thing is the only thing that can't?"
"So um, like, what is that code for?"
"I think," she swallowed hard, "I kinda think we could be great, we could be so happy only we can't be together. It's the one thing we can't do."
"Why not?"
Beca gave a passive shrug, "I didn't - and Chloe doesn't want that. Like, trust me, she really doesn't want that. And I don't know, maybe at this point neither do I."
"Uuuh, yeah right!" Emily let out a rude snort. "I just don't understand. I've literally never seen anyone love someone the way that you love Chloe. What's happening in the world right now?"
Beca felt her fingers twitch; she didn't really like it when people talked about that so openly. It was kind of embarrassing being that girl, the one who was in love with someone who didn't love her back...even though that was kind of her M.O. - since she had been doing it since college. "Well, that doesn't really mean anything. You can't love someone who doesn't want you."
"She does, though! Chloe loves you. Like, I know that. Everyone knows that. Like, how do you even know that she doesn't? You're being so stupid."
"How am I the one being stupid? Why does everyone always call me stupid first? Why can't Chloe be the stupid one sometimes?" She barked.
"You're stupid for not seeing it."
Beca sat back with a thump, her mouth slightly open, "And how am I supposed to see it?" Beca cried, her voice rising in indignation.
"Maybe you just don't want to see it. Maybe it just doesn't look like you want it to, so you're refusing to see it."
"I never said that I didn't think she loved me, Em."
"What? Well then?" Emily all but shouted, her hands flailing wildly in that oh so Emily way.
"Yeah, well." She gave a jerk of one shoulder, admitting something she hadn't wanted to thus far, "Sometimes that isn't enough. And, and - and, I didn't, like, I didn't say...whatever...I'm going to lose her now. I can tell. Like, I'm sure of it. It might not be tomorrow, or next week, it might be in a month but I'm going to lose her." She saw Emily staring at her blankly so she continued on in a rush, "We can't be just friends, dude. Like, we can't survive that. We...I...I dunno which."
It was so confusing. She would have said they were in love, she really would have. Oh god, that was so lame to say. What the fuck was this woman doing do her? 'They were in love' what the fuck? She didn't fucking wax poetic. She wasn't her dad.
Except, she would have. She had; she was sure of it a few days ago. Their situation was kind of fucked up, yes, maybe on both sides, but she had thought that they were all - in love - and stuff.
But then again, hopeful thinking? Why would Chloe love her? Fucking Chloe Beale. That didn't even make sense.
Emily huffed, her nostrils flaring as she crossed her arms, angry, "You're both being so stupid. You have to make up. Right now. Where is she? Go and see her."
"Pretty sure she's in Henderson."
"Well, why aren't you there with her? You were supposed to go, right? And also, this," she jabbed a finger into the scab on Beca's neck, making her yowl, "I know Hunny's handywork and that is so not okay!"
"Dude! The fuck?" Beca cowered, trying hard not to show the sick regret on her face.
Emily just stared back at her, obviously offended on Chloe's behalf.
"Dude, you're not getting it." Beca cried, letting out a frustrated growl and strangling the air, ""Yes," She all but shouted, seeing the look on Emily's face, "I'm fully aware that at one point this was kind of my fault, okay? Fuck, I get it! I didn't say what I wanted, okay? I asked her to read my mind and then got all pissed when she couldn't! I've come to terms with that. I'm a fucking idiot. Okay? Fine! But, it doesn't matter anymore! She - doesn't - want - me. Yeah, maybe she likes having sex with me, maybe she likes kissing me and playing house a little, and I know she all best-friendy-loves me - but she doesn't want me – like," she shifted, uncomfortable, "I dunno, like anything more serious than that. Like, ugh like want – want me."
"Ugh," Emily cried, "Who says she doesn't?"
But Beca ignored her, "Whatever. The point is, she's not going to take me to Marcy or in front of Nick's whole family. That would have made us a couple, Em. The dreaded fucking C word. And if she did it would be all 'oooh, this is my best friend, Beca' 'this is my bestie' 'look, it's my best friend, Bec'!" Beca mimicked in a high voice, her hands waving in the air.
"So what?"
Beca scowled, "What does that mean? I'm not just her best friend, dude! Not anymore! If I ever fucking was, I don't even know anymore."
"This is what I mean! What's wrong with you, Beca? I mean, so what? She was still basically in a relationship with you, is," Emily smacked her arm, making her jump and yell, "in a relationship with you. Why can't it be without a label? For whatever crazy Chloe dumb reason, she can't handle a title right now, but that didn't mean that she wasn't your freaking girlfriend! She, like, really was."
"It can, it's not that, ugh, you don't fucking get it, it's about the message she sends me every time she insists that we're not together. She doesn't have to do that, Emily, she chooses to. She's saying something."
"I can't believe how dumb you're being."
"I TOLD HER I LOVED HER AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN SAY IT BACK, EMILY!"
"When?" Emily shot back, "Like thirty seconds before you walked out of the door? Before you went on a date? God, I can't believe you went on a date! Whhhyyyyyy did you go on a date?"
This attitude of Emily's was kind of starting to piss her off. She liked Emily's weird Beca-like blunt moments but what the fuck? "In fucking October, Emily."
"Oh. Shoot."
"Yeah." Beca snarled, leaning back and getting comfortable again, knowing she had just won, "Exactly. Merry fucking Christmas to me."
Emily's eyebrows were drawn, thinking hard of a way that she could still make this work. Clearly, she couldn't think of anything so she just slumped back too. "I still think you're wrong. I still think that you guys weren't meeting each other in the middle. I still think she loves you."
"Dude!"
"I mean like, wait," Emily turned back to her, "have you ever thought about Nick? Maybe she has a reason for not being ready for a title."
But Beca didn't want to hear about Nick so she didn't answer, letting them fall into silence for a minute.
"God!" Beca finally shouted, "I want a cigarette so badly!" Emily laughed but that too fell silent. She glanced at her friend, the woman who had once been that upbeat, cheerful little Legacy. The crazy thing was that through all of this, she could still see that girl in there. "You have to stop drinking, Em."
Emily's face dropped into pale, "What? I'm not, I haven't-"
"Em." Was this a good moment to, what, take her hand? What would Chloe do? Chloe would be touching her in some way, all about the physical support. She reached forward and took her hand but it felt weird – not her at all - so she dropped it again and gave her a small shove. "Emily."
"What? I'm not!"
"I can smell it on you, pea brain."
Emily started, her lip beginning to tremble, her eyes instantly spilling over, "Look, you don't understand. It's fucking impossible."
"It's not. It's just hard. But like -"
Emily let out a giggle, "Pot. Kettle. Hi, you're black."
"Yeah well, I'm an imperfect being. But - you have to stop. You should be with Benji today."
"Well. We all have our crosses to bear."
"God, sometimes you sound so much like me. Or Hunny. No. Sit back down. We're going to talk about this. Talk to me. Like, what's your deal? This album is going to be amazing but it's like you fucking hate it, dude. I kind of can't help but to think that it was kind of the album that pushed you off the wagon. Am I like totally crazy? Because I feel like a dick who ruined your sobriety – again."
"No, it wasn't you. But um." Emily shifted, looking like a pot about to boil and then suddenly exploded, "I do hate it!' Emily flopped bodily back onto the couch, "I hate this job! I don't want to do it. I hate it! I don't know why I ever thought it was what I wanted to do. I hate it so much and like, I so am not good enough for it. This is stupid." Beca blinked, thrown by the sudden rant, "Everyone wants me to make this great stuff but I'm not that great! No! No! Don't even argue! I suck! That is just a fact, Becs! Oh come on, I only got into the Bellas because I'm a Junk. I'm a legacy. It wasn't my voice. It wasn't my dancing. All of the girls were drunk and I'm a Junk. My mom even told me that was how it was going to go! She literally said you guys were going to let me in 'thanks to her'. I mean, what the freak is that? And yeah, I sold 'Flashlight' but I only sold 'Flashlight' because you produced it. And, and, okay, and, come on Becs, I literally only became a Bella captain because I was the only one not graduating! And you know that my Bellas were never as good as yours, you know that. Don't even freaking, fraking argue. Then I made this stupid album and yeah, it did okay, not freaking great or anything and now I'm supposed to do another one and, and, ugh! I'm just supposed to be fine? Like, how do people do that? I hate being this way. I don't want to be."
"Okay, okay, whoa! Look, hey," this time she took her hand and didn't let go, "we can work on this."
Emily kicked at the table, her tears fast.
"Em. We can do this. Together."
'****'
Chloe couldn't have been happier when two days later, she opened her front door and found Emily standing there.
Her heart jumped instantly into her throat.
"Hey, friend." Emily gave her a small smile and then squeaked when Chloe was suddenly on her. She wrapped her arms around her neck tightly, forgetting for a moment that Emily might need to breathe, frantically holding onto her like her life depended on it. She was so happy to see her. She had been so worried about her. And oh god, she had been so lonely. She could smell wine on the girl but she hugged her anyway. "I tried coming over like, you know, actually on Christmas but you weren't here."
"Yeah." Chloe frowned, interlocking their hands and pulling her inside, "I went to Henderson."
"Oh yeah? How was it? How was your Christmas?"
Chloe cuddled deeper into the Beca sweater she had stolen, pulling the hood up over her curls, "Oh Emily, it was terrible!"
It really had been. She had found herself on the highway after leaving Beca's condo and she just...hadn't stopped. She had shown up late in Henderson and a few days early. And she had regretted her decision to go early immediately. Nick and Jenny had been in the middle of a video game war, both in their pajamas while The Beach Boys sang about Christmas on the stereo. The tree had been light and fragrant, and everything about it had just felt so homey - not her home - but the whole place had given off a warm, happy couple kind of glow.
It had broken her heart to be there alone.
It had made her ache for a home glowing with her own warmth and happiness. Hers and - nothing is worse than being alone for the holidays.
And then Christmas!
She had sat there next to Nick, knowing that he was supposed to be with Jenny, who had opted to avoid the hatred of Marcy and go to her own family's celebration, and she - all she had been able to do was wish for Beca. She was mad at Beca - but not as much as she was mad at herself. So she had smiled, smiled, smiled, hearing all of the comments, all of the accusations. It didn't matter what was said, she just smiled while all along on the inside she had felt like one raw exposed nerve.
Emily gave her a knowing grimace, "Yeah, ours too. We watched 'A Christmas Story' twice and then ordered Chinese. It was - kinda pathetic."
Chloe laughed. "This year has been so weird, hasn't it?" She could see the decline, she could see the build up to happy, the potential for happy and then that day had come and Beca had said 'I love you' and it had been a slow - or maybe not all that slow - descent since. It was hard to believe it had all happened so fast, that it had all happened this year.
"Yup." Emily popped the 'P' as she took a seat.
Chloe sat across the couch from her, turning to face her and taking her hand, "How did we get here?"
"Took a wrong turn at Albuquerque," Emily said, a bit too seriously.
It should have been funny but it just felt too true. "So, what's up?"
Emily reached into her bag and pulled out a package, "I wanted to give you this."
"Oh, Em!" Chloe stared at it, "I have something for you too, but it's at Beca's."
"I know, she got the package the other day. Thank you, I loved it. I'm going to wear it soon."
"Good." She had just dropped off their gifts. She had them - there had been no point in keeping them - but she hadn't been able to get herself to bring up to the condo. She had chickened out, a feeling that was strange, and had dropped them at the front desk, asking someone to bring them up. She was glad to know they had. She just - it had been too close to Christmas and she hadn't been able to stand the idea of hearing about Beca's date, or worse, going up to find that woman there.
"So you gonna open it?"
"Oh!" Chloe jumped and flashed her a smile. The box was small and she unwrapped it carefully. Inside, Chloe sucked in a breath, was a clear glass plate with the words 'Almost Baby's First Christmas' and under that, written in beautifully carved calligraphy was the word, 'Legacy'. "Oh, Em, it's so pretty."
Emily shrugged, blushing, "You know, from one Legacy to the other."
"Emily!" A tear pricked at her eye and Chloe wiped it away before pulling her into a long hug and kissing her temple. "It's beautiful. I love it."
Emily laced their fingers together, the way they sometimes sat and Chloe scooted so she could rest her head against her youngest sister's shoulder. "I uh, I know you said no baby anything for Christmas, um," Emily started with a twitch, "I know you're still worried that you'll lose Legacy but sometimes, I don't know, sometimes people do things even if we don't want them to. It doesn't mean they're ignoring your request, it just means they have their own reasons for doing it." Chloe knew she was trying to make a cryptic point but, unsure if she had made it Emily frowned and added, "Like dating," and then her frown grew. "Wait. No. Errr, that was meant to come off subtle but it didn't. Okay, let me try again, sometimes people-"
Chloe sat up, looking at her friend and Emily fell silent, "I don't know who I'm madder at, her or myself. I know I can't be in a relationship with her, I can't. So I should have cut her loose. Right? Is that what I should have done? I'm not even sure. It is. Right? This is my fault. I never should have started this. I never should have asked her to wait. I relied too much on Beca being honest with me about whether or not she could handle this. On Beca being honest, what was I thinking?"
"Yeah, well, you did start it though. And I think pretty much everyone who knows you is glad you did."
Chloe was shaking her head, "It doesn't matter. She can't love me, Emily. She can't. Not now. I can't let her. Not when being with me would be so hard, mean so much. Not when-"
"So, I'm not calling you on anything or - anything, I so promise, but err, have you ever noticed that you give a different reason why you can't be together every time someone asks? It kind of makes it seem like you don't really have a real reason and so you're just coming up with stuff."
"That's not true! I've always said that she can't love me!"
"Yeah well, are you planning on stopping gravity too? And why the frick can't she? I mean really? Isn't the whole point of life to find someone who loves you the way that she loves you?"
Chloe looked up fast, suddenly needing to know, "How? How does she love me? What does that mean?"
Emily just shrugged, she didn't have the answer but neither one really needed it anyway, "She loves you the way that everyone is supposed to be loved, I guess. She loves you like Benji loved me."
"Awe, sweetie." She squeezed her hand, "He still does. I know it. But. Beca. It's different. I can't love her, Emily."
Emily scoffs, "Sometimes I think that is closer to the truth than what you said before."
"What?" She thought back on her words, not understanding.
"You just said 'I can't love her', Chlo, usually you say 'she can't love me'."
Chloe blinked, startled. Had she? "I can't. I can't love her. It's – it's too – it could be -"
"God, freaking, fraking damn it, why can't you?"
"For exactly this reason. I spent Christmas alone. She's dating. She's been gone - my Bec has been gone for weeks - longer - and I don't even know where she went. I asked and asked but she just closed the door on me. It -" It reminded her of her early days with Nick, well, her late early days. "I don't know, Emily! I don't know exactly, I just know I can't! It would ruin everything!" She looked up and was surprised to see that Emily looked like she wanted to slap her,
"What? Okay yeah, she's doing all of that but to be fair you've been dangling this carrot called 'like everything she has ever wanted' in front of her for months. If she's acting a little screwy, then that's," Emily fumbled for words for a second before finishing on, "then that's on you."
"We can't- I'm - I'm so -"
"Ugh, oh my god, I know! You can't. You' can't, you can't, you can't - and that's fine. You feel like you can't right now. Great. But you won't even talk to her about it. You just say this vague thing about 'can't right now' and 'not never' but you like literally just don't. Like, have you told her why you 'can't'? Do you even know? And yeah, maybe you asked her to talk to you and tell you all of that flooey but it's not like she actually can! If she does then she'll be the dick who is pressuring the pregnant, soon to be divorced, newly gay lady!" Chloe opened her mouth to argue with that totally unfair comment but Emily cut her off, "And asking her to wait was shitty but also like kind of not shitty and stuff, I get it, and, okay, so maybe if she had just told you what you wanted but," she groaned, looking a little dizzy, "There's no communication at all. That's what's needed, right?"
Chloe's mouth opened but what the hell could she say. Had she been doing that? Holding Beca in a corner like that? "I, uh,"
"So you're just going to lose it all?' Emily's cheeks were red, flushed with anger. "The person you're supposed to be with? Your best friend?"
"Um."
"That's just – that's just so wrong! You don't walk away from something like that! Don't you know that? If I had any choice – Benji – you just – Bec – ugh!" Emily had apparently had enough. "Okay, I have to go. You two are the most stupid stubborn women ever." She crumpled a little under that, her whole body sagging to the side, "I mean, I love you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I love you. I do, but err, ugh. Yeah. Okay. Right. Bye."
Chloe watched her go, not offended by her anger as much as surprised. Emily just wanted them to be happy.
Emily was right. She was losing everything.
Could they - could they just go back to being friends?
She remembered that day, the first time she had kissed her, she had remembered the overwhelming need, she still felt that need every time she saw her. It hadn't diminished an ounce. If anything it had exponentially grown.
Could she do that? Could she turn that around and just be her friend again? Give up the kissing and the touching?
Did she have a choice?
She picked up her phone, her fingers hovering over the pad for a minute before she typed out, "Emily is a wise girl."
A text came back a few minutes later, reading of hesitance, "Oh?"
"Yeah. Can I come over?"
Chloe couldn't read Beca's face at all so she wasn't sure what it meant when Beca opened the door. Perhaps it was only that Chloe knocking at the front door was as weird for Beca as it had been for her to actually be the one doing it. Normally she just barged in, and that wasn't just since they had become - more than friends - that had been always. Beca's house had always been free territory to Chloe. Even Beca's room in college had pretty much been a place that she considered to be partially her space and vice versa.
Maybe the look on her face just meant that Beca's heart was beating with the same nervous tension that Chloe's was.
"Hey."
"Hi." Beca shifted after a second, letting her inside.
She started toward the living room, ready to pull Beca down beside her but instead she stopped at the kitchen, putting her purse on the island and turning back to Beca who was watching her silently. "You're right." She had to just rip off the Band-Aid, saying what she had come here to say, "This hasn't been fair to you. You shouldn't have to wait. And you shouldn't have to get dragged into something because I showed up on your doorstep totally unannounced one day. And things...things can be ruined. You were right, Bec." It was so strange being this uncomfortable with Beca of all people. "So," she took a deep breath, "I'm not going to make you anymore."
Beca's eyes narrowed.
"Friends?" She gave her a soft, crooked smile, hoping it was genuine enough but also welcoming enough.
Beca stared, her face frozen, looking like she felt sick. She stared so long, unmoving that Chloe's discomfort only grew.
"Beca?"
Was this a rejection? Was this a no, I don't want you in my life? Because she -
Finally, Beca let out a shaky laugh and nodded once.
Oh, thank god.
See, they could do this. They could totally do this. For a second she felt the strange urge to give her a high five, proud of them. They totally had this. Yeah. Totally.
"Can I - can I maybe hug you?" She winced for a second, thinking that Beca was going to say no; she looked like she was considering it. Then she gave another curt nod.
She worked hard to move slowly, to not squeeze too tight but - she realized that she didn't know how to hug her - not anymore. She had been hugging her so her face fell into her neck for so long - always - but the thought of her lips brushing Beca's throat was too much. "So what are you doing tonight? Do you want to get dinner?"
"Um, sure," Beca's voice was gravelly and rough but she nodded.
"Cooking or going out?"
Beca looked around, her face pained again. "Let's, maybe let's go out."
But dinner was terrible.
They both were trying, she could tell, but each little thing was awkward. Beca drove them and it was strange when Chloe didn't reach over and put her hand on her thigh. She didn't give her a wink, she didn't run her finger up and down it, trying to tease, to see how much of a reaction she could get from Beca at a stop light. She didn't simply put her hand there to touch her, just to maintain contact while they talked. Somehow Chloe's left hand, the one that should have been in Beca's lap, felt hot and itchy the entire drive, too heavy in her own lap like it was glowing red, pointing out the fact that it was not where it should be.
They got to the restaurant and they were placed toward the back with all of the other two person tables. Which shouldn't have been awkward, they were always placed in this section since they were always going out just the two of them – like – always. It was clear, though that most of the people around them were on dates, some first dates with awkward too loud laughter and others who were old hands at their relationships and sat just a little closer, giving one another knowing looks; and though they tried to simply ignore it, they both noticed – and tried not to wonder what they looked like.
Did they look like a couple who had recently broken up? Did they look like a couple in that dreaded 'let's stay friends' stage? She had never had a lot of success with that. She always wanted to, she missed her exes when they were gone but that stage had always gone poorly. Chloe had to bend over and dig through her purse for nothing in particular to calm the onslaught of tears that threatened to burst free.
When they both wanted the same dish they shifted a bit awkwardly and decided to both order it - when normally they would have ordered one and then something else and just split the two. They would have started out with two forks, picking across each other's plates until eventually one fork was left behind or accidently switched and eventually they were finishing off both plates together, passing them back and forth, unsure who had whose fork or who had ordered which dish.
When Chloe finished her water and couldn't catch the eye of the waiter Beca habitually slipped her glass over, not thinking twice and Chloe drank it. It wasn't until it was gone that Chloe frowned, her thanks coming out strangely.
Then the bill came and it was the worst moment of discomfort yet. They both looked at it, both with wallets in hand and it had been like negotiating a peace treaty. Paying for things had never been a thing between them, sometimes Beca paid, sometimes Chloe paid – always, it had always been like that since the very first time that Chloe bought Beca a coffee in the student union. They had never thought twice about it because it wasn't a big deal, whomever didn't get this one would inevitably get next.
Did the awkwardness, the friendly struggle of 'I got it', 'no really, I got it' mean that they both were worried that there wouldn't be a next time?
Chloe had been at a loss the entire way home, her mind constantly and confusedly humming, 'I've got my ticket for the long way round' as if it were a question she didn't know how to answer.
'****'
Yeah, that just – that really just hadn't worked.
Beca was trying, she really fucking was, but she just didn't see how the hell they were going to be friends. 'Friends' for them didn't look right, it didn't look like everyone else's friendships - it was too close to - not just friends. None of this felt freaking natural. They were both too quiet, too weirded out.
They were just putting off the inevitable. But Beca owed it to Chloe to try, right? She had to kind of - do that.
She didn't know why but they didn't just end the evening there. Apparently, they were both gluttons for punishment. So Beca curled up into a ball in the corner of her couch and watched as Chloe stretched out, her toes coming close to Beca's thigh but never actually touching it. Which was - just - so freaking weird - there were no legs in her lap, no toes digging under her thighs for warmth. They both looked at one another awkwardly for a second before Beca laughed, looking down at Chloe's toes. She loved her toes, they were fucking adorable. Which, sounded weird, but she did. "Your toenail polish is chipped! I think I've only seen that like twice ever. You okay, dude? Someone switch you for a different version of Chloe?"
Chloe chuckled stiffly, curling her toes as though she were a little embarrassed as she confessed, "It's getting harder and harder to reach my feet to do them."
They laughed together but it was forced and it died quickly when Beca opened her mouth to offer to do them and realized that maybe she shouldn't.
Oh come on, this was stupid.
They could do this!
This was - them - come on!
"So I signed the divorce papers."
Beca blinked, "Oh yeah? How was that? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It will take a while before it comes through. I cried, a lot more than I thought I would but it's done now. It was strange being in Henderson though, knowing that everyone knew we had signed them."
"Oh yeah. How, err, how was Christmas?" She wished that Chloe had put her feet in her lap, at least then she would have something to fiddle with while she did her best not to look at her and while she tried to ignore this totally shitty feeling in her stomach.
"It was fine." She could tell by how brightly Chloe was smiling that she was lying. "You? How was your Christmas?"
"You know, whatever. We watched movies."
Chloe nodded, "How is Emily? When she came over earlier I was so busy thinking about other things that I forgot that I wanted to talk to her about everything."
"Everything?"
"You know." Chloe's lips twisted strangely with her nerves. "How is she?"
"I'm surprised you saw her honestly. I told her that we needed to work on what's going on with her, that we should do it together but she's been locked in her room pretty much since then. It's like living with an alcoholic hermit that's afraid of her own shadow."
She watched Chloe's face morph into concern, "Beca, we have to do something. We've been so selfish, our friend is drowning and we're worrying about relationship drama."
Beca wanted to laugh, feeling her defenses rising. Yeah, well, it was a lot harder being the rejectee, wasn't it? Maybe it was a little more thought consuming. "What would you like to do? I mean, I thought about hog-tying her so she can't grab a bottle but that just seemed a little harsh. And plus like, I'm not even sure how or where to buy that kind of rope? Like, do they sell that at Home Depot? Or-"
"Beca! This isn't funny."
"I'm not saying it is but please don't come in here and act like I haven't been trying to figure it out." Beca snapped.
"We need to call Benji."
"Chloe!" Beca groaned. Okay yeah, last night that had seemed like a good plan, but now in the face of the woman who was rejecting her, just like Benji was rejecting Emily, it seemed less so. Then again, she was a child sometimes and maybe she was just saying no now because Chloe was saying yes. "That's just, eerrgh, it's not right. Okay, like I've been saying," she said slowly, too slowly, "let's do something you and I or maybe with the Bellas but don't include her boyfriend - who kicked her out - for drinking. It's not our choice. We shouldn't just decide that Benji and Emily are going to make up. I'm probably going to have to put her album on hold as it is if she keeps behaving this way. Don't fucking do that."
"Who else is she going to listen to but the person she loves?"
Beca knew her eye roll was a little extreme, but really? The person she loves? Doors weren't opened, clouds didn't part because of love like Chloe seemed to think they did. "Look, if Benji is going to kick her out for behaving like a typical alcoholic and having a fucking hard time then fuck him. He's not fighting for her, dude! He doesn't deserve her."
"Okay, Beca, come on. That is not what's happening."
"God, just stop sticking your nose in everyone else's problems. You act like the world can't get by without you. This is us, Emily and I, we got this."
"Oh so I'm not a part of 'us' anymore, Bec? I don't get to be in the club now? Is that it, Beca?"
"God, you act like, you act like everyone in the world freaking needs you in order to survive!"
"I do not!"
"Yes! Yes you freaking do, dude! Like we couldn't possibly get along without you!"
"Alright!" Chloe snapped, clapping her hands together once, her face pale except for two dark splotches at her cheeks. "Our problems aside, and yes, I know you're really talking about us now, Beca, Benji needs to know how bad it is! Maybe we should call her sponsor. It's our job to do something. She's drowning!"
"I'll figure it out, Chloe, fuck! But I'm not calling Benji!" Beca wasn't even sure how they had gone from okay-ish, awkward yeah and maybe hating it, to straight up fighting so quickly. Maybe because Chloe was right and they weren't really fighting about Emily.
"Okay. You know what? Fine! Whatever! Do what you want! You always do anyway! Beca Mitchell! That's what she does! Who – who freaking cares how it makes other people feel!"
She watched Chloe rise as she spoke.
"What does that-"
She knew she was leaving, knew she should stop her but she didn't, couldn't.
Instead Beca just watched the door Chloe had gone through, chewing hard on her lip and trying to bury the fucking freak out.
This wasn't going to work.
Absurdly and without any reason words drifted through her mind, making her bite down hard on her cheek: 'Two bottle whiskey for the way...'