Beca rolled and stretched on her bed, trying to get a bearing on where exactly she was as she woke up Monday morning.
"She's been in here all night," someone was saying. "And normally we wouldn't even, like, care, like at all, we'd let her work in here as long as she needed, but we kind of need the space to work on our songs too."
"We worked a little bit this morning, just on our phones," another voice said.
Beca got off the bed. She'd lost the leather jacket, but the ripped jeans and tank top had stayed, askew from an unrestful night of sleep. She padded beyond the partial wall of the bedroom into the kitchen.
Pool house, right, that's where she was.
And apparently other people were, too.
"Beca!" Carl greeted her. "I heard some shit went down last night."
Emily, Katherine, and Jessica were with him, and Beca tried to blink out of her sleepy hungover-ness.
"Do you need the studio still?" Carl asked, and Beca shook her head.
"I already did a song," she yawned. "On the keyboard. We can figure it out later."
"The whole thing?" Emily asked. "Can we hear it?"
"Fine," Beca started, but her body had other plans. She went to clear her throat, but instead she coughed loudly, her nose still clogged from sleep, and her windpipe felt like sandpaper.
"Actually, my voice is kinda shit right now," she grumbled.
Katherine gave a low chuckle.
"Vodka," she said. Beca was about to tell her that it was probably from the late-night scream singing, but Katherine stopped her.
"I'll take sleeping beauty here and get her some tea," she said, wrapping an arm around Beca's shoulders. The small brunette tried to shake her off, but Katherine's grip was tight. "Emily, are you okay here with Jessica?"
Emily gave the okay, and Katherine ushered Beca out of the pool house.
"Don't mess with the recordings on the keyboar- ah! Fuck that's bright!" Beca shouted as she stepped outside. She rubbed her eyes furiously as she let Katherine guide her around the pool.
"You won't find any sympathy here," the older woman chastised. She pushed Beca through the sliding glass door into the main house.
"Sit," she ordered, and Beca did, taking a seat at the end of the dining table. She stretched and felt her pulse echo through every limb in her body, especially her head.
Reverberating bass hangover headache.
Ouch.
"You put on quite a show last night, Beca," Ms. Junk said as she started a kettle of water. "I think you owe a few people apologies."
"Where is everyone?"
Katherine narrowed her eyes at the brunette before answering.
"They went shopping," she said. "They were supposed to rehearse today, in the studio, but somebody had taken up residence and refused to leave. You know, we had to wait for Carl to get here with his back-up keys because that 'somebody' locked us out."
"I bet that somebody's a real asshole," Beca replied sleepily. "Or, hey, maybe she just got blindsided by reality TV bullshit and had to scramble to stay competitive on a show she doesn't even like."
Katherine let the moment hang there for a moment as she busied herself around the kitchen. Beca idly tapped her pockets for her phone. Maybe she left it in the pool house. Or on the couch.
Not that it mattered.
But man, what a night.
She had plowed into the pool house, eyes wild, head heavy with alcohol and anger. The drums were her first instinct, until she realized that not only did she not have any practice on the instrument, but she also didn't have the proper motor skills for drums at the moment.
The keyboard, then, she thought.
And she stayed there for hours.
It was nonsense at first, the chords and keys clashing together chaotically, but a single discordant set - F#, G#, and B - made her pause. This was after she'd used the looping technique that Carl taught her, too, and soon she was finding synth tones and heavy electronic bass.
She was obsessive, and a little manic, with all of her focus zeroed in on the sound she wanted to make.
And then she started singing.
Screaming, really, which was why her throat hurt so bad. The song itself wasn't hard, and the melody didn't really lend itself to screaming. But every line of the song made Beca's blood boil, even as the drunkenness started to wane.
She rode the wave of anger until she had to pee, stumbling through the kitchen to find a small suite with a bathroom and a king bed. She used the facilities and then fell face first onto the comforter, where she stayed until the group came in this morning.
Katherine hummed from the kitchen, pulling Beca out of her reverie.
"You weren't the only one that had to change your song," she said softly. "My daughter, and that sweet Jessica, they're both in there working on new songs as well."
Bea groaned.
"It's still bullshit, dude," she replied, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "All of this is."
The kettle started to boil, and Katherine pulled it off the stovetop. She grabbed a bag of tea and poured the boiling water over it, adding a bit of honey as well. She brought it to Beca and sat down across from her.
Beca mumbled a thank you and stared at the steaming cup.
She didn't even like tea.
But she knew better than to reject the peace offering.
Beca played with the spoon in her cup of tea, swirling the liquid around methodically. Even her stirring was in rhythm, her spoon tinging against the ceramic mug in time.
"The only thing I'll say is this," Ms. Junk said after a moment. Beca glanced up and, seeing the openness and genuine care in her expression, she promptly returned her stare to the mug in front of her.
Ting. Ting. Ting. Ting.
"This place can be as real as you decide to make it, reality TV show or not," she said. "You just have to be honest."
She stood, but Beca didn't look up this time. Katherine walked back into the backyard without another word, leaving Beca at the table alone.
Which was how she liked it, right?
Beca prided herself on her ability to be independent, to be alone. But suddenly she felt something akin to loneliness. What was it with these women? She didn't ask for friendship, or kindness, or tea.
And she certainly didn't ask for advice.
Everyone here was being so nice to her, without prompting or reason, but still Beca couldn't trust it.
She'd be an idiot to trust it.
Because just like everyone else in her life, they either wanted something from her, or they were going to leave. That's just what people did.
It was better to keep to herself, to be alone. She didn't need them anyway.
God, this show was so good at getting her worked up! She'd feel great, then awful, then confused about how awful and great she felt. There was no escaping the emotional gymnastics they kept putting her through.
But was that the show, or was that something she was doing to herself?
Beca groaned and took a sip of her tea.
Of course it was delicious.
Of course it fucking was.
Beca retreated to her room and fell back asleep.
Then, when she finally decided it was time to get up and do something, she spent more time than she wanted to admit figuring out how her large rainshower worked.
But once she did, she was able to get cleaned up, and Beca emerged from the steamy bathroom feeling a little bit more like herself. She tried to remember if she had to do anything else for the show today. She figured there might be some cameras milling around, so she made herself presentable before she went out into the kitchen.
The house was still quiet, which Beca was grateful for. She raided the fridge in peaceful solitude, scavenging whatever was left of the Chinese food.
It was bizarre, going from the hectic first day yesterday, where there were no fewer than fifteen people running around and giving orders, to the silence of the house today. The first floor felt even bigger now that it was empty, Beca mused, as she reheated an untouched helping of fried rice in the kitchen microwave.
She wondered what the other rooms looked like as she ate, but she decided against going upstairs. She didn't care that much.
Especially when she didn't know when everyone else would be back.
Speaking of which, she should probably find her phone, in case somebody texted. She checked the couch first, turning over pillows and feeling around the lining of the piece of furniture. She reached under too, but there was no phone to be found.
She hadn't spent any time anywhere else on the first floor, besides her room, so that left the studio.
Beca made the short trek from the main house to the pool house, hearing a deep synth melody emanating from the small building. She walked in to find Carl and Jessica working on a spirited rendition of Material Girl. Emily and Katherine were at the island in the kitchen, and they waved Beca over as she entered.
"Hey! Hi! You came back!" Emily said first. "Here's your jacket back, and I think your phone's in there. I tried to text you, like, an hour ago, and I heard something buzz in the bedroom. So I went to look, and I found your jacket there. Along with your phone. Presumably."
Beca gave a tight smile and took the jacket from Emily, nodding over to Jessica.
"She's good."
"Isn't she though?" Emily gushed. "It's so cool, it's like, I'm just so lucky to even be on the show with all of you guys. You're so good, it's intimidating."
"Uh huh," Beca replied. She took out her phone and scrolled through it, seeing the text from Emily and a solid twenty-something unread messages in the S14 group chat.
Chloe had texted her too, outside of the group message, and so had Fat Amy. Without reading them, Beca clicked out of the app and pocketed her phone.
"Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something," Emily went on. "I have this song I've been working on, that I wrote, actually, and I was wondering if I could sing it for-"
"I think that'll work!" Carl cheered as Jessica finished the final chorus. Beca and the Junks clapped softly, and Jessica did a little curtsy bow.
"So!" Carl said. "Madonna, and Cheap Thrills by Sza, those two are ready to go."
He got up from the keyboard and motioned for Beca to come over.
"Show us what you've got, Mitchell!"
"Right now? Okay, yeah," Beca replied. She got up, and Emily and Katherine followed. The entire group formed a semi-circle around the keyboard, with Beca in the center.
"Uhm," Beca started, pressing the buttons to get the keyboard set up. She cued up the recording she'd done the night before, then changed the voice of the keyboard so it sounded more electronic.
She pressed play on the loop, and a quick, deep bass began to thud through the amps, offset by various sound effects. A distorted snare tapped out a triple beat as Beca began to play full chords on the keyboard. They delayed in time with the beat, distorting as Beca held them.
Look inside, look inside your tiny mind,
then look a bit harder.
Cause we're so uninspired, so sick and tired,
of all the hatred you harbor.
So you say it's not okay to be gay?
Well I think you're just evil.
You're just some racist who can't tie my laces.
Your point of view is medieval.
Beca nodded along as she flipped off the drums, leaving only her keyboard tone to fill in at the chorus. She hit all the notes in the chords individually as she ran up the scale, singing as she went.
Fuck you.
Fuck you very, very much.
Cause we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew,
so please don't stay in touch.
Beca began to repeat the chords as the chorus built, and she felt her voice begin to strain. It wasn't the key so much as the song itself, which made Beca want to punch something.
Or someone.
Still, she went on singing until the end of the chorus.
Fuck you.
Fuck you very, very much.
Cause your words don't translate, and it's getting quite late,
so please don't stay in touch.
She was about to switch the drums back on for the second verse when she felt Carl's hand on her arm. She turned, pulling her hands off the keys, to find the group of musicians gaping at her.
She had forgotten they were there.
"You did that last night?" Emily gasped. "Beca, oh my gosh!"
Beca nodded.
"What, was it… like do I need to do something different?" Beca asked cautiously. She brushed her hair out of her face to find Carl watching her with a curious expression.
"That's an original composition?" he questioned, and Beca nodded again. Carl whistled loudly.
"Let me ask the boss," he said as he shook his head. He stepped away and pulled out his phone. Emily immediately filled his place next to Beca, now laying her hand on Beca's arm.
"You know what would be awesome?" she started to say. "What if you-"
"Wait," Carl said sharply. Both Beca and Emily turned and saw he was smirking.
"'Eff' You," he laughed. "Can you do that for me? Please?"
Beca laughed as she realized that she probably couldn't say 'fuck' on national TV. She nodded, and Carl did too. He stepped outside, pulling the phone up to his ear.
Emily leaned forward to press a key, and Beca jumped.
"What if you- I mean. Can I say something?" Emily asked as her eyes darted around the women surrounding the keyboard. Her gaze landed on Beca, shyly meeting the older woman's eye.
"What are you thinking?" Beca asked, and Emily blushed.
"Well, I know you don't, uhm, watch the show," Emily said, now averting her eyes from the smaller brunette in front of her. "But this is, wow! This is unlike anything they've ever put on air."
"Really?" Beca asked, looking to Katherine and then Jessica for confirmation.
"Usually, contestants will slow things down," Jessica agreed. "So they can show off their vocals."
"So that's where I'm thinking, what if you sike them out, you know? Start playing a slow, moody ballad, then wham!"
Beca felt her first smile that she'd worn all day start to form on her lips. Playing the song like that would be super entertaining, mostly because she'd get to mess with Posen's head.
Now that would be fun.
"Okay, so maybe just piano?" Beca asked, switching the tone of the keyboard back to its Grand Piano setting. She started to play the chords, slow and somber, repeating the lyrics of the first verse.
Emily and Jessica nodded along.
"That's what the songs normally sound like," Katherine agreed. She wore a small smile as she watched Beca play.
"And they'll be all like, 'what!? We told them to play pump up songs!'" Emily said. "And then, after the sad chorus, you come in with the drums!"
Clicking the playback button, Beca did just that, and she switched the keyboard back into the synth tone as she sang the second verse. Both Jessica and Emily danced haphazardly to the beat as Katherine just laughed.
"They're going to be so surprised!" Jessica exclaimed as Beca went into the chorus.
"I'm not sure that they'll know what to do with you," Ms. Junk added.
As she finished the second chorus, Beca cut the drums again, playing the arpeggiated notes under the third verse. Then, for the last chorus, she quickly switched the tone back to the regular piano to play herself out slowly just as Carl came back into the pool house.
"Oh," he laughed when he heard Beca's latest remix.
"Those judges are going to kill me."
Songs mentioned: Material Girl by Madonna, and Cheap Thrills by Sza. Beca's song is Fuck You by Lilly Allen, but the remix is specifically the Manhattan Clique remix. Hope you liked it!