AN: Part 1 of 2. Please read extended Author's Note after chapter, for, you know, sorry. :(
Beca has had a total of forty-five minutes of sleep, to the minute. She knows this, because didn't sleep. Not a wink. She's been counting the seconds. Every, little, ticking eon. She did go to bed at four-thirty, and she took note of that. Three minutes later, and it feels like an eternity. The rest of the forty-two minutes passes by just like so, and she didn't sleep a moment of it. So when the the clock hits the five-fifteen mark, she decides to wake up from her non-sleep.
She needs some air.
She gets up, gets dressed, gets her laptop and headphones, gets what's left of herself off the metaphorical floor in order to take walk out in the quad. Her eyes are swollen, and she won't be bothered to wear makeup for an early morning walk.
She's never been a morning person, but maybe, if she makes an exception just this once, the universe would be kind to her and give her the one exception that she doesn't deserve.
The Bellas rehearsals are at eight, and she's excited for that. She really is. In fact, just thinking about it makes her smile, as she now stops at one of the benches outside her dorm, near the quad. She puts her headphones on, feeling the change of surroundings, change of time. Change of everything.
She puts on Taylor Swift, just because.
She's humming Dear John when Amy passes by her, going somewhere (or having come from somewhere [boys' dorms], probably, where she spent the night, and sneaking out after "celebrating" last night). She lifts her eyes up just in time to see Amy do a double take.
Amy cannot believe it. Beca... exists in the mornings?
"Hey, what're you doing up?" Amy says, as she makes her way to Beca and sits beside her on the bench. She barely hears Beca's reply of "nothing" when she notices Beca's swollen eyes and sees the open playlist on Beca's laptop. Immediately, her eyes pop out. She trains them on Beca.
Beca replies with a similarly questioning look, feigning innocence at the implications of Amy's stare.
So she knows the lyrics of Dear John, okay?
(Almost as much as she memorizes Party in the USA. But that information is irrelevant.)
...
(later...)
The second thought in Chloe's mind this Tuesday is that the Bellas are about to kick ass, and the rest of the world better know it.
The first is that her phone is belting out The Pussycat Dolls at six in the morning.
"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot, like me..."
That's Fat Amy's ringtone. She gropes around on her desk, her face still buried in her feather pillows.
"Don't ch—" "Mmpphhhee?" she groans into her phone.
"It's a code red. She listening to Taylor. Taylor Swift, Chloe!"
Shit. This makes Chloe sit straight up.
...
Aubrey is used to waking up at four in the morning to do her Pilates on Tuesdays, but for this Tuesday, she makes an exception. It's about time she loosened up a bit, so she had decided to set her alarm for 6:30. So when her phone starts ringing at 6:12, the accuracy of her body clock protests.
She jolts up from her bed, eyes still covered by her sleeping mask. Without missing, her hand darts for her phone, positioned parallel to her body, because she's anal that way. Chloe is on the other line.
"Hello?"
"'Bree, it's Beca. She's... listening to Taylor."
Shit. This makes Aubrey lift off her mask.
"Taylor... Hicks?"
"Swift."
"Oh my god, okay..."
She's up and dressed before 6:20.
...
On this fateful Tuesday, the Bellas' second first rehearsals are due at a sharp eight. This is the mark of their first day, a new beginning. But for some reason, as ordained by the aca-gods, everyone is there by 7:30. Everyone, except Beca.
So when Beca gets there at 8:13 AM, she steps foot into the auditorium to the glaring absence of Aubrey's usually stellar, not to mention prepared-for, speech about the golden-ness of time. What she gets, however, is a really awkward moment of silence for her arrival, like she just walked in with a sign that said "I'M EMOTIONALLY DAMAGED RIGHT NOW."
"Um... what's going on?"
She has no idea what she did to merit their stares, but they are looking at her like she just... died, and got up from the grave.
"I'm... fine?"
When none of them make a move to do anything except stare at her with that look of feelings (Jessica is about to literally cry), she shoves it all away, changing the topic to the new mix that she worked on last night, after they have finally gotten their act together, with Aubrey's softening, after the vomit fest that was yesterday's little explosion.
And who could forget their little group therapy session?
.:.
"Beca, I know that I've been hard on you, okay? I know that I have been hard on everyone here, but I am my father's daughter. And he always said... 'If at first you don't succeed... pack your bags.'"
Little did they know that Aubrey's confession would be the start of the next hour of feelings galore, of hidden tidbits about one another's lives (and some not-so-hidden ones), and of the first, legitimate bonding moment for them.
"I have a lot of sex." Well, not exactly news, but a confession nonetheless.
"I have a huge... gambling problem." Not expected, but still a confession.
"I ate my twin in the womb." Weird, slightly psychopathic, but still a confession.
"And... my real name is Fat Patricia." Not expected. At all.
"I have been in love... with Unicycle for the past four years now. I ju- I have never acted on it because of the oath, but... god, I have wanted him ever since we met at Clown Camp®."
Not... just... not.
"That's weird, but," Beca replies to Aubrey, not really knowing how to handle the revelation, "you... should be with Uni, if that will make you happy. Forget the oath."
"Nononono, I could never—"
"Aubrey," Chloe tells to her friend (who looks just about ready for a second cookie-toss), "let it go."
Finally, Aubrey lets it go.
The rest of the hour is spent releasing and bonding and hearing all about Fat Amy/Patricia's bands (Fat Amy and the little chub chubs, Fat Amy and the old girl, etc.) and other exploits. Jessica hates sweets, Ashley cannot beatbox properly, Denise... likes girls (too), and Beca didn't have a lot of friends who were girls, before.
And then came the greatest revelation of all: Chloe cannot sing her usual range.
"I thought... this season... was over," Chloe cries.
"Beca," Aubrey stands up, "what do we do?"
She tosses the holy pitch pipe, a glorious moment of relinquishing control to the one person in their group that she had finally learned to trust, enough to give her a chance. To try, for once.
And in that moment, Beca swears Aubrey has terrible aim.
(Beca's severe lack of hand-eye coordination did not help.)
...
Yesterday was the mark of a new era for the Bardern Bellas, and it's a great day to start afresh. So, as the new Bella captain (after boiling the pitch pipe and soaking it in dishwashing liquid overnight), Beca works them through her mix, explaining the different parts, the sopranos, percussions, altos, and all the little details that get her excited for the upcoming finals, which is soon. Very,very soon.
"Won't you come see about me..."
A hush falls on the entire team as she sings the first strains of "Don't You" along to her mix, demonstrating this next song. She momentarily pauses, leaning on her laptop. Yes, okay. She can hear them looking at her. It's distracting. But she's not ready to open that Pandora's box with them quite yet.
The rest of the rehearsals proceed with a new bravado, as they work their way through the vocals, now working as a team, for each other. Because they know each other now, and it's the relationships that pull them through. Not the music or the winning.
"Alright guys, that's it for his morning. It's... 9:50, so for those of you who have classes..."
Beca gets her stuff, while the other Bellas take their time; a strange occurrence, because they're usually rushed out before any of them even finish the "ah" of their hands-in.
She leaves quickly and without hesitation. It's a work in progress.
AN: Oh god.
Yes. Yes, I understand that you all hate me right now. Hell, I hate me right now, giving ya'll this horrendous chapter after being on hiatus, and then cutting it short. Not my best by a long shot, I know. But in all honesty, I could never find how to write the "next" part, and you have to believe me when I say I am sorely, sorely sorry. This fic is coming to and end soon, and I know you are all expecting that "THE ENDINGS ARE THE BEST. PART." and I'm just terrified, okay, I'm sorry. This fic is my baby, and will finish it, and will try to make it good enough for you guys. The next part will be up in a bit, just need some polishing.
FYI, everything terrible about this chapter is because of me, and everything great is because of my perfect Beta. That is all.
*runs away and cries*
Up next: Later that Tuesday, at the station...
Coming soon: Benji's pigeon...
PS. For Grey, whose idea it was to incorporate the Bellas's help. I cannot pm you, but know that I am always grateful for your reviews. :)