Serious language warning for this one.
Also, feedback request? Please?
See the end note for more info.
The Junks and Jessica left Beca with Carl in the pool house to work on the vocals, since Beca kept frying hers. He taught her to sing lower, to push the sound out of her chest instead of her throat, and soon Beca was getting through the song a little easier.
Even though she knew the whole purpose of the show was singing, she didn't realize how much effort would go into it.
She had to think about how she would sing every individual note, in every individual line, through the whole song. If she zoned out for even a second, she'd go flat or sharp or "pitchy," whatever that meant.
With mixing, she knew she could come back and change something if she edited it wrong.
Not with singing.
There was the live aspect, of course, no redos there.
But there was also the way that singing something birthed each note into existence and immediately abandoned it. You couldn't go back and change a note. You couldn't pitch it up or down.
Once you sang a note, it was final.
The melody consumed Beca's thoughts so completely that, as she walked back into the main house, she was surprised to see cameras. The other contestants must have returned from shopping, and it looked like they brought a film crew with them.
"Beca!" Emily called out, which made most of the other women turn. Even though Emily had called her, Beca's gaze quickly fell away from the young brunette to find a certain redhead who was standing in the kitchen.
God, she looked stunning. She was wearing blue again - this time, it was a long shirt under a blazer, with the blazer sleeves rolled up. The light blue long sleeve shirt stuck out of the bottom of the shortened sleeves, the ends lapping over her hands like gentle waves.
She looked so confusingly cozy.
Immediately, Beca looked away. After last night, after watching the show and seeing how much they focused on her and Chloe, she just needed some space from the whole thing. It was just a stupid crush.
And Beca didn't want to be remembered as the woman who went all goo-goo eyes for another woman on a TV show.
She didn't even know if Chloe was into it at all, or if the show had told her to do it. Beca might have been drunk last night, but she couldn't deny the nagging feeling that maybe the show had put Chloe up to this as some kind of story, what with the hashtags and all.
Maybe they'd tell Chloe to break her heart in the middle of one of the episodes.
Beca knew how manipulative Gail and John could be.
And Posen was Chloe's friend for chrissakes.
It was all starting to look a little too convenient to Beca.
And besides, even if it wasn't something the show made Chloe do, it wouldn't last. It never did.
Everyone left eventually.
And this was supposed to be about getting her music out there anyway, so why was she getting all worked up? It was stupid.
Beca had wandered toward Emily, who was talking to a cameraman about changing her song and getting the new one down. She mentioned Beca's new song and dragging the older brunette on camera with her. Beca grimaced as she answered the man's questions - what she was singing, why she chose it - and all the while, she could feel Chloe's eyes on her.
She clearly wanted Beca's attention.
Maybe she wanted to talk to her or something, but Beca didn't care.
Beca excused herself from the interview and tried to sneak around the room towards her bedroom, but Chloe caught her at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hey," she smiled. "We missed you last night."
"Uh huh," Beca muttered to her shoe laces.
"And today, we missed you at the mall. But that probably wouldn't have been your 'scene,'" Chloe went on. Her voice was low, somewhere between a hum and a whisper. Intimate.
It made Beca want to pull her hair out.
"I got you something," Chloe said, and she pulled out a small bag from inside her purse. She shook the contents into her hand and offered it to Beca with a barely-restrained smile.
"I know you don't wear a lot of gold, but these would go great with your outfit for Wednesday," she started to say, and Beca took a deep breath before looking in Chloe's hand.
Laying in Chloe's palm were two spiral gauges, black with golden swirls, and a wide gold cuff with an intricate pattern, for Beca's cartilage piercing. There were also two gold hoops with a similar pattern.
"The buttons on your pants are gold-ish," Chloe explained. "And I just thought it might add a little pizzazz to the outfit."
"Plus, I got some too," she added sheepishly, plucking the hoops from her hand. "And a bracelet. So we could, you know, match."
"You bought me jewelry?"
It came out louder than she anticipated, and Beca felt rather than saw the heads start to turn in their direction. Conversations started to peter off as Chloe spoke again.
"It's not a big deal, Becs," she tried. "I just thought-"
"You just thought you'd buy me matching jewelry so you could play into this whole will-they-won't-they thing?" Beca cut her off. "God, it's so predictable. You conveniently give me matching jewelry, while the cameras are here? I wonder if they'll catch our 'special moment' and blow it way out of proportion again, huh? But no, you were 'helping' me!"
Beca barked out a laugh.
"Do you think flirting with me will get you more time onscreen or something?"
Chloe recoiled with a small gasp.
"Beca, can we go somewhere and talk-"
"No, we really can't," Beca replied. "I don't need your help, or your charity, you're not my girlfriend!"
Beca pushed past Chloe, and past a cameraman man, back through the hallway into her room. She slammed the door of the master and locked it, looking around the room for something to distract her.
She decided on music and settled into the desk chair, booting up her laptop and throwing her headphones over her ears.
She heard faint knocks through thudding bass and was happy to ignore them in favor of something she could actually control.
And after a while, the knocks stopped.
Hours passed as Beca toyed with her 212 vs. Bust a Move mix, trying to get the first switch just right. She worked in a zen state, constantly forcing herself to not think about where she was, or who she was there with. It was just music.
She started to get hungry, but there was no way she was going to risk going into the kitchen, even though she knew Chloe probably wouldn't be there.
Instead, she crawled into the comically large California king bed and turned on the TV.
She didn't watch a lot of anything, TV or movies, but it was better than her own thoughts.
She was halfway through some inane acronym police drama (NCICS? CSINS? NSI?) when the show cut to commercial.
She was singing I'm Still Here onstage for her solo, the band swelling behind her, then the music cut as the screen went black. CR flashed on the screen, then Fat Amy, then Stacie, with dramatic musical hits punctuating their vocals.
Then Jesse's voice came in.
"This season, on American Idol…" he said. "Things. Just. Might. Get. Crazy."
There was a clip of somebody crying, Beca didn't recognize the woman, and somebody collapsed onstage. Ms. Junk hugging Emily. Jessica looking worried as she rubbed Ashley's back.
And then it was her again, in the pit at the house, yelling "Bullshit!" at Posen.
Well they sure edited that fast, Beca thought. Some intern must be working overtime.
"Tune in live Wednesday, 8 PM, 7 PM central," Jesse continued. "And don't forget, we like you just the way you are."
The commercial cut to Katy Perry screaming and clapping, then to Chloe singing Just The Way You Are as it faded out. Chloe locked on to Beca through the screen, all big, blue eyes that looked so open and honest and that sweet smile, the one that made Beca's heart melt. Beca drank it in, getting lost in the redhead's eyes for a moment until she remembered one important thing.
Chloe wasn't looking at her.
She was looking at a camera.
Beca slammed the remote until the TV shut off, and she was left in the darkness. In a room that wasn't hers, in a house she didn't recognize, in a town she didn't know, with women who were determined to get under her skin.
But that didn't mean that she was going to let them.
Cars started to take the women to the House of Blues around 9 AM. They separated the women into two groups, and Beca was in the second wave that would leave around one. She slept in, waking only when her stomach wouldn't let her sleep any longer. Thankfully, she found an array of muffins in the kitchen. She picked up a blueberry one and glanced at the clock - 11:30.
She went back to her room and got ready at a leisurely pace, throwing on black skinny jeans and a blue flannel, and taking time to pack her laptop. She slipped her headphones around her neck, connecting the cord to her phone.
She had no intention on talking to anyone today, and nothing screamed "fuck off" like giant headphones.
She walked back into the main area of the house and saw that Ashley, Stacie, Fat Amy, and Lilly had come downstairs. There was a PA talking to them as Beca came in.
"-so make sure that we have all the lighting cues. No one's going to think you're a drama queen if you speak up," the guy was saying. He looked like he was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, with dark hair and eyes.
"Also, please make sure that we got any equipment you need out of the pool house," he added as he checked his list. "The keyboard and the acoustic/electric are already over there."
"Do they have a mic stand?" Amy asked as she gyrated her hips. "Because I need the stand to do my moves."
"I'm sure we can accomodate," the PA replied. "Okay, everybody ready? We'll need to take two cars."
"I'll ride with Beca," Stacie volunteered sweetly. She blinked slowly at the PA before turning to Beca, shooting daggers with her eyes outside of the PA's range of vision.
The production assistant laughed.
"Okay, so I'll take Stacie and Beca, and I think Flula is already in the SUV in the driveway," he said.
The other women started towards the door, but Stacie made a beeline for the shorter brunette.
"I think we should chat," she said as she linked her arm with Beca.
"I'm good, thanks," Beca replied, and she tried to put on her headphones. Stacie swatted them away and almost knocked them out of Beca's hands.
"Dude!" Beca jumped. "Do you know how much these cost!?"
"Don't call me 'dude,'" Stacie shot back. "And I don't care. I'm not letting you put those on. You're going to listen to me."
The taller brunette forced Beca into the backseat of the SUV as the PA climbed into the front.
"You girls want any music?" he asked, craning his neck around to look at them as he reached for the radio.
"I'd like that!" Beca shouted back, but Stacie leaned forward in between the seats to lay her hand on the PA's. He looked up at her slowly, mouth hanging open, and Beca knew what kind of look Stacie was giving him.
She spoke to him in a low voice, something Beca couldn't hear, and the man let out a choppy, nervous laugh. He turned on the radio, but he adjusted the sound so it was all in the front seat.
Stacie came back to the back seat and sat against the door. She stared at Beca as the smaller brunette scrolled through her phone. After a minute of clicking in and out of the messages app pretending to read them, Beca sighed.
"Fine. What?"
"Talk to Chloe."
"No," Beca shot back. "I don't want to talk to her! I don't want to talk to any of you! I hope I get kicked off just so I can leave and never have to hear from any of you ever again!"
Breathing heavy, Beca sighed and looked at Stacie.
She was watching her like a mother watching their kid's tantrum.
"You done?"
Beca shrugged and clicked back on her phone, only to have it pulled from her hand.
"Jesus!"
"You can ignore me all you want in a sec," Stacie said. "But first, I need you to listen."
The smaller brunette grumbled something affirming, and Stacie took her chance.
"Chloe made me promise not to get involved," she said. "I don't know why, honestly, because I'm so good at this kind of thing, but it's her life. So you tell her I said anything, and I will make sure that you regret it. Got that?"
When Beca didn't say anything, Stacie huffed. She rolled down the window and dangled Beca's phone over the open road.
"Yeah, whatever! Jesus, dude!" Beca shouted. "Don't drop my fucking phone!"
Stacie rolled her eyes and closed the window.
"You're so dramatic," she lamented as the car repressurized.
"Okay," Stacie started again. "Remember when I told you that you needed to watch the show? Because you needed to see how they were showing you?"
Beca nodded.
"Well, I think your spastic little tantrum showed that I was right. And before you say anything," Stacie warned as Beca opened her mouth to cut her off. "I lied. You didn't need to see it for you. You needed to see it for Chloe."
"She's, like, one of my best friends, so I kinda want to kill you," Stacie continued. "Because you said some really fucked up shit to her yesterday."
"How do you know she's not using me for the show?" Beca countered before Stacie could stop her. "How do you know she's not just flirting with me for the drama? For the narrative or whatever?"
There was a moment as Stacie thought, then she laughed.
"I forget that you don't know her, like, at all," she groaned. "Of course you don't get it. Chloe doesn't have a bad bone in her body. She likes you, dumbass. You're just going to have to trust me on this."
She handed Beca back her phone as she sighed. Beca went to grab it, but the leggy brunette pulled it back and grabbed Beca's wrist. Their eyes locked, and Stacie narrowed hers.
"Just, don't hurt her on purpose," she said seriously. "And if you do end up rewatching the show, take your eyes off yourself for literally a second, and look at her. Look at the way she looks at you. That's all you should need, to know that Chloe isn't being fake."
"Whatever," Beca mumbled as she took her phone. She plugged her headphones back in and put them over her ears, letting La Roux flood her thoughts.
It was another forty minutes before they were pulling up to the venue, and Beca was relieved to see that there was only one other SUV in the backstage drop-off area. It looked like the other women had already left, which meant she wouldn't get a lecture from Ms. Junk, or a string of compliments from Emily.
And she wouldn't have to see Chloe.
The women did their sound checks, running through their numbers with the accompaniment as well as the lights. Beca went first, so there was plenty of downtime for her to work on her newest mix in the green room backstage. She found food, and nobody disturbed her - probably because she didn't know where she was.
After a subpar sandwich, she lost track of time as she again immersed herself in her music.
She got up to stretch and check out the rest of the venue when her phone chimed with an email. The subject was "your shit," and the email address had the name Evil Hag.
Curious, she clicked on the notification, opening a short email.
"Yo, I stole your email address from the show," the email said. "Send me your music shit. I've got a friend who DJs at the club we're going to after the show tomorrow. He might play it."
The email was simply signed "Plaza."
Okay, so that would probably be the coolest email she ever got in her life.
Aubrey Plaza was asking her to send her mixes - her mixes - so her friend could play them.
At an LA club.
How fucking cool would that be, to have an actual DJ play one of her mixes?
But more importantly, which ones should she send?
Beca rummaged through her laptop files, finding a couple of her best club mixes and attaching them to an email. She played it cool in her response, leaving out all the exclamation points she wanted to type.
This was big!
This was so cool!
And now she had Aubrey Plaza's personal email address?
She wanted to tell someone, scrolling through her phone to find her Atlanta friend group message, but before she could type to them, she stopped.
She knew they wouldn't believe her, or, if they did, they wouldn't understand how big of a deal this was.
One of the problems of having friends that were the "ironic" kind of cool meant they didn't really get excited about anything.
She scrolled back up, seeing the unread messages from the women on the show (avoiding one name in particular.) Her finger hovered over the group messages.
At least they would believe her.
She couldn't do it though, and instead, she exited out of the app and turned the phone screen off.
It was stupid, anyway.
The DJ probably wouldn't even play anything.
Beca continued packing everything up and took off around the venue, wandering the space until she was back at the stage.
Lilly was up, whispering into a mic as the band tried to play quieter and quieter so they could hear her. Beca heard Carl call stop, and she leaned out of the curtain to see him.
"I think that's enough for the day," he said. "Let's get you ladies back to the house."
"Is it going to be like this every week?" Beca heard somebody ask on the other side of the curtain.
"Pretty much," another voice responded. "Usually, there's drama and a ton of drinking at the beginning. Not that anybody sees it. But then the contestants get really competitive and moody as the show goes on."
"Is that why they put everybody in the house this year?"
There was a pause, then the second voice spoke again.
"I guess ratings were down."
The pair walked off, leaving Beca backstage alone. She ambled towards the stage door, and towards the cars, thinking about what she had overheard.
So the contestants weren't always in a house together, that much made sense. It probably cost more to have a house big enough to host all of them rather than apartments or something like that.
But were there cameras on all the time in other seasons? Were they tracking everybody's movements, or coupling people off? Or was the show trying to capitalize on all the drama that typically happened behind the scenes?
And had they said ratings were down?
The drinking, though, that made sense too.
Beca was shoved into the backseat of an SUV between Fat Amy and Ashley, which quickly wiped any coherent thought from her mind. Amy elbowed Beca as the car started the long drive back to the house.
"So, you plan to win this thing, Beca?" she asked.
"What?" Beca laughed. "No, not a chance."
Amy nodded with an apathetic expression.
"Yeah, I'm doing the show for exposure, too," she replied. "I think I'm going to do movies. Maybe some characters. Like Fat Amy Winehouse, I did that one in New York. I dunno, I'm pretty great at being an actor. Like, look."
Amy pushed her face back, eyes squinting, her lips pulled down and quivering. She gave a few fake sobs, then she waved her hand across her face, resuming a somewhat normal expression.
"You know what that was?"
"Uh," Beca replied. "You looked pretty sad, I guess."
Amy gave a little fist bump and sighed happily.
"Crushed it," she said softly, and Beca smiled.
Amy talked about herself for most of the ride back, with little to no input from any of the other people in the car, and soon they were pulling back through the security gate.
There was a group of people in the living room, but Beca avoided all of them, making a quick dash to her room. She shut and locked her door again, turning on the TV to full volume to dissuade anyone from checking on her.
She spent the night like that, locked away in her room as she heard other women in the kitchen, and in the pit. She heard when they got food delivered, no matter how much she tried to block it out.
Maybe she should tank her performance tomorrow. At least then she'd get to go home - although, she was here for at least another week anyway, since they said they wouldn't announce the winners until next week.
And she didn't really have the cash to stay in a hotel or get another last-minute plane ticket.
Besides, she liked the composition she'd put together. And with Carl's help, she felt pretty confident in the vocals too. It was everything else - the women, and Chloe - that made everything so complicated.
It didn't help that all of the other contestants seemed comfortable there. Beca felt out of place when they talked about the show or singing, or shopping, or even about each other. It was weird that they all got along so easily. Wasn't this supposed to be a competition show? Shouldn't they all be at each other's throats, or hoping that somebody messed up?
Why were they so nice?
She thought about what Ms. Junk said, during Hollywood week, that Chloe being nice to her was so unusual for these shows. Beca agreed, but she couldn't make sense of it the way that Katherine seemed to be able to.
Maybe she would ask her.
Or maybe she wouldn't, it didn't really matter. She'd probably get kicked soon anyway.
Beca felt her stomach rumble, and she paled. She couldn't go another night without eating, but she didn't want to go into the kitchen to see everyone.
Whatever, Mitchell. Don't be a baby.
Sack up, dude.
She took a deep breath and opened her door, only to see that somebody had left her a plate of pizza just outside the threshold. There was also a beer with a red solo cup over its neck.
She didn't stop to think about it as she grabbed the plate and pulled the meal back into her room. She cracked the beer on the edge of the desk and took a huge bite of the pizza. It was still warm.
Jerks.
Show day was uneventful. Everybody pretty much stayed in their own spaces, or, at least, it seemed that way to Beca, because she didn't see anyone until they were getting together to go to House of Blues.
Everybody got to rehearse one more time, but Beca didn't watch any, choosing instead to stay backstage in the green room, where they had set up a viewing area for the show. There were chairs seated audience-style facing a TV screen, and a snack table with all sorts of singer-appropriate treats and libations. Beca sat in the back, headphones on, generally ignoring everything around her.
Once they were done, a PA walked them through the events of the night.
The contestants would stay in the green room for the duration of the show, where they would watch all of the performances and feedback in real time.
And there were cameras in there too, so they'd be on camera all night.
After they performed and heard judge comments, they'd run up to a camera to promote their call-in vote number, then they'd go back to the green room with everyone else.
Once everyone was done, they'd go onstage to say hi to the crowd again, and then it'd be over.
Before Beca was able to get too nervous, the venue started to fill up, and the women were told that the judges had arrived. The women watched on their monitor as Jesse took to the stage, welcoming the crowd and getting them warmed up for the evening of entertainment.
"Ladies!" a voice pulled their attention off the screen and towards the back of the room. Posen had come in with Hannah, the PA.
"Welcome to your first live show!"
The singers hooted and hollered as Beca took in the judge's presence. She was wearing a variation of the flight attendant outfit again, but this time she had the gestures to match, and Beca stifled a laugh.
"The sopranos: Jessica, Chloe, and Lilly. The mezzos: Cynthia Rose, Flo, and Stacie. And the altos: Fat Amy, Emily, Ashley, and Beca," Posen finished with a sigh. "It's time to take the oath!"
"We shall start with the blood of the contestants that came before you!" Posen called, and Hannah reached into her bag and started handing out small, unlabeled bottles of red liquid.
"Legally, I need to state that this is not blood. It's wine," she said as she passed them out. "Also, I have to state that, if you're under twenty-one, you're not allowed to drink these. So just wait til we leave."
Posen shot her a look as the women laughed, then the blonde continued.
"Now, repeat after me!" she cheered. "'I,' then sing your name."
The women chorused in a cacophony of various tones, which only made Posen flinch a little bit. Beca laughed and cracked open her wine.
"'Promise to fulfill the duties and responsibilities of an American Idol contestant.'"
Amy burped loudly as she finished chugging her tiny bottle of wine.
"Didn't we already agree to that with the contracts?" the Australian shouted.
"Just say it!" Posen shrieked, and the women mumbled the line back.
"'And I promise to never have sexual relations with anyone from The Bachelor or Bachelorette franchise, or may my vocal cords be ripped out by wolves.'"
"Oh, I can't say that, babe, you know that," Stacie replied, and the women laughed.
"Me either," Flo said as she sipped her wine. "Or, is 'the bachelor' different in this country? I am speaking of the one eligible man in my home village."
"Do you guys want to see a dead body?" Lilly whispered.
"Okay, fine!" Posen screamed. She heaved forward, and, taking a deep breath, resumed speaking.
"This is your first live show, Idol-bitches!" she shouted. "Prepare to soften the beaches!"
She strolled out of the room with Hannah in tow, and distantly the women heard cheers as Jesse left the stage.
It was show time.
They sent CR out first, and the woman bodied Since U Been Gone like a seasoned professional. Aubrey Plaza openly hit on her, and Katy Perry asked her to sing at her niece's baptism. CR smiled graciously and jogged offstage, making it all look effortless.
Beca downed the rest of her wine as she started to get anxious. She wiped her palms on the sides of her pants, feeling around her person for her phone. She found it and clicked it on, looking to distract herself, when she saw a text from her dad.
"We're watching!" it read. "Thoughts and prayers, hope you make me proud!"
Beca placed the phone face down in front of her and turned her attention back to the screen as the words resounded in her head.
Proud.
Thoughts and prayers.
She tried to watch the performances, but her vision was starting to swim.
Stacie and Lilly went backstage to get ready, as Ashley was onscreen singing Wannabe by the Spice Girls, dancing around the stage with a wide smile.
Beca couldn't focus.
She wasn't drunk - this wasn't drunk.
It was more like a panic attack.
"Beca?"
Beca turned to find Emily and Katherine regarding her closely.
"You don't have to be nervous, you know," Emily started. "You're literally so talented."
"But, it would be okay, if you were nervous," Katherine added.
"Yeah, totally okay, like I would totally-"
"Guys? I'm fine," Beca cut in. Her eyes darted back to her phone, then to the screen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Junks look at each other, then they split and sat on either side of the smaller brunette.
Emily moved to grab Beca's hand, then stopped, her hand hovering for a second before it fell back in her lap. Beca stared at Stacie singing Moulin Rouge, both the French and the English words hitting Beca's ears like a foreign language.
"We're here for you," Katherine said softly, and Beca sucked in a deep breath.
"We'll just- we'll be here."
Stacie finished to raucous applause, and the camera turned to a red-faced Posen, which made the women that were still in the green room chuckle. Chloe and Jessica left, as they were up next.
Lilly was up then, and when the band started to play It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To, Beca burst into laughter.
The Junks slowly started to laugh too, and after a moment, CR joined in as well.
Amy only shrugged.
"Whatever floats her tits," the Australian sighed, and Beca doubled over again.
The show was going so fast that Beca barely had time to register that Chloe was up next before the redhead was onstage. She had a short sleeve navy shirt, and a tiny white tank top that was already starting to ride up over the edge of her low-slung, skin-tight jeans.
A brassy electric guitar resounded, and Chloe swung her head down, throwing her red curls over her shoulder before leaning into the mic.
"Let's go girls," she spoke/sang, and the crowd burst into cheers.
I'm going out tonight,
I'm feelin' all right,
I'm gonna let it all hang out.
Wanna make some noise,
really raise my voice,
yeah, I wanna scream and shout!
Chloe writhed around the stage, almost putting Stacie's performance to shame with the looks she was throwing over her shoulder.
"Damn," CR groaned from the back of the room. "I don't even like country music, but Red could get it."
"I think she's spoken for," Amy shouted over the song. "When we were rehearsing, she said she was going to dedicate the song to someone special."
Beca tried to tune them out, tune everyone out, but the only thing that could keep her attention was Chloe onstage.
And fuck, did she look hot.
The redhead in question kicked out a leg and twirled her mic cord around, out of her way, and began stalking to the edge of the stage as she sang.
The best thing about being a woman
is the prerogative to have a little fun, and-
Oh, woah-oh-oh!
Go totally crazy!
Forget I'm a lady!
Men's shirts, short skirts-
oh woah, oh, oh! Really go wild,
yeah, doing it in style!
Oh woah, oh, oh, get in the action,
feel the attraction.
Color my hair, do what I dare!
Oh woah, oh, oh, I wanna be free,
yeah,
to feel the way I feel.
Man, I feel like a woman!
"C'mon, shortstack," Amy suddenly said over her shoulder, and Beca jumped.
She had zoned out there.
No reason why.
"We should go backstage."
Chloe finished her song to generous applause, but as Beca and Amy made their way through the backstage to wait in the wings, they couldn't hear the judges' remarks. The band started playing Material Girl for Jessica as Chloe came offstage, standing at the mark to tell people to vote for her.
"That one goes out to a very special someone," Beca heard Chloe say to the camera. "I hope you know who you are."
Chloe spun and saw that Beca and Amy had walked up and gasped.
"Oh! Hi!" she said cheerfully. Her face was flushed from the performance, and she dragged her gaze up and down Beca's form.
"Nice work, ging," Amy said. "You really know how to work a crowd. One member in particular."
Beca forced her eyes to focus as Chloe gazed at her. She couldn't think. Chloe had dedicated the song to someone special-
Her boyfriend?
"Good luck, Becs," she whispered, pulling Beca in for a close hug. A wave of vanilla hit Beca right in the pit of her stomach. "I know you'll do great."
She took off down the hall as Amy called after her.
"Yeah, I'll do great too, don't worry about Fat Amy! Fucking twig bitches."
Beca's breaths started coming in short gasps as Jessica finished her song, and the judges gave their notes. Beca was next, and she was hyperventilating.
Her dad was watching.
Chloe was watching.
Chloe's special someone was watching.
Everyone was watching.
"Amy, I don't know what I'm doing here," she gasped out, and Amy clapped a hand on her shoulder.
"Just living the dream! I still can't believe they let my sexy fat-ass in," she said. Then, turning, she saw the state that Beca was in.
"Oh, shit," the Australian groaned. "Uhhh. Okay. Look at me."
Amy turned and grabbed Beca by the shoulders.
"Look, you're going to be fine. You're Beca Effin' Mitchell," she said. "Have I ever let you down?"
"I mean, I don't know you," Beca gasped, but her breathing was starting to slow as she thought about her words. "But based on what I do know, being unreliable seems like a hallmark of your personality."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Beca laughed.
"But I'm not sure we have time to unpack that right now."
The crew was moving the piano upstage, front and center, as Jesse came back out.
"How's everybody doing so far?" he asked, and the crowd cheered. Behind him, the crew signaled that they were tested and ready to go.
"Look, nobody's going to die tonight," Amy said softly. "Okay? The stakes are literally so low. It's just a stupid singing show."
Beca nodded.
"Okay, yeah," she replied as she took a deep breath. "Yeah."
"Next up, Beca Mitchell!"
Eff you, eff you very very much.
Cause your words don't translate,
and it's getting quite late,
so please don't stay in touch.
Beca raised the last note up, then back down again, resolving the chord progression as the song ended.
The next thing she knew, she was staring at a crowd that was chanting her name.
Chanting!
It was insane, the way they responded to her and her music. She was in awe. She didn't even know if she hit all the notes, or all of the cues - she pretty much blacked out, honestly - but the crowd had eaten it up. They were losing their goddamn minds.
It was unlike anything Beca had ever experienced.
"Please tell me you put that together," Plaza started the judge remarks. "Because if you didn't I'll literally die."
Beca laughed.
"I did, yeah," she replied as Plaza fanned herself. "I just recorded the drums on the piano, based on what I liked. Emily - uh, Emily Junk helped with the composition though. She told me to add the piano-only parts."
"You have a career in this industry, kid," Katy Perry said, and Plaza nodded. "I can't wait to see what you do."
"Wow, thank you."
All eyes settled on Posen, and the blonde judge tutted.
"Oh, don't you dare, Posen," Katy warned, but Aubrey Posen just sniffed.
"You were a little pitchy," Posen said, and the crowd started to boo. She spoke over them as she stared Beca down.
"Just don't let your showmanship overshadow your vocals," she said. "This is a singing show, after all. Thank you."
Beca rolled her eyes, which apparently everyone could still see, and the crowd laughed. They cheered again as she made her way offstage.
"Becaw!" Jesse called, standing at the camera where she was supposed to ask for votes. "Come here!"
"That was amazing!" he cheered. He handed Beca his mic and pointed to the camera.
"Anything to say to America?"
Beca thought about it for a moment, then laughed.
The whole day - hell, the whole week - came crashing down around her. The Chloe shit, the Posen shit.
The dad shit.
"That song was for a very, very special someone," she said sarcastically. "I hope you know who you are."
Jesse laughed as he stepped further into frame, sidling up next to Beca.
"I just hope it wasn't for me!" he laughed, and Beca laughed too.
"No no," she offered, and Jesse wiped fake sweat from his brow. She looked directly in the camera with a shit-eating grin.
"I think they'll know."
The next song started - Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston - as Beca made her way back to the green room. She was still smiling when she came in, but when she took stock, she could tell that the vibe was very much off. Junks were gone, probably getting ready to sing, and so was Flo. But Chloe and Stacie weren't there, and Jessica and Ashley were staring at her as if they wanted to kill her.
"Hey, chief," CR called her over to where she and Lilly were standing near the snacks.
"You're in deep shit," CR started with a subtle shake of her head.
"You're lucky I didn't bring my extensive knife collection," Lilly whispered, but Beca didn't really hear her.
"Why? What happened?" Beca asked happily. She was still feeling the performance, and she wasn't about to let anyone ruin her mood.
"Man," CR groaned. "You basically just told that redheaded ray of sunshine to fuck off on national TV, you really don't wanna take some responsibility for that?"
"What? The interview?" Beca replied. "I was just being an asshole. The song was mostly for my dad, the absolute homophobic dick. I didn't think Chloe would think I was talking about her."
"You used her words," CR shot back. "You said exactly what she said about you in her interview."
"About me?"
"Yeah, about you," CR yelled. "Are you really that dense? That girl is mad crazy about you, and you just mocked her and all the feelings she has for you."
"But that's not- I thought-"
"Where is that little shit!"
Stacie stormed into the green room, glare pinpointing Beca in a heartbeat. Frozen in fear, Beca stop still as Stacie crossed the room and grabbed her tightly by the bicep.
"Ow!"
"With me, now!" the taller brunette roared, pulling Beca out the way she came in, down the backstage area, and through a door. She pushed Beca into the alley and let the door slam behind them.
"What the fuck did I tell you, Mitchell!" she screamed. "I told you not to fucking hurt her!"
"I didn't mean to!" Beca shouted back. "I was just- just-"
"She's fucking crying in there, you fucking dumbass!" Stacie continued. "You meant to make her feel stupid!"
"I didn't know!" Beca cried. Hot tears burned her face and stung in her eyes.
At least there weren't any cameras around to catch her crying this time.
"You didn't know what?" Stacie seethed.
"I didn't think she was talking about me! I thought she, like, had a boyfriend or whatever!" Beca shouted. Stacie rolled her eyes.
"Yeah fucking right, Mitchell!"
"Why would I think that somebody as perfect as Chloe would give two fucks about me?" Beca shouted.
"Because she's been giving two fucks about you since you met!" Stacie screamed back. "What, you think she kissed all of us during Hollywood week?!"
Beca stopped short in her reply, sucking in air between gasping breaths. She wiped the bottom of her nose with the back of her hand, sniffing back snot.
"She told you about that?" she asked quietly.
"She wouldn't stop talking about it for the last two months," Stacie growled. "And you kept blowing her off, refusing to meet up, and then you get here and throw tantrum after fucking tantrum-"
"Well I didn't know!" Beca fumed.
"Yeah, and you didn't ask either," Stacie spat back. She sighed heavily. "We all told you to talk to her. Why couldn't you just talk to her, like a normal fucking person?"
Beca groaned loudly.
"God, I don't fucking know dude!" she sighed. "I've never felt this way."
"Well," the taller brunette sighed. "You fucking blew it now."
Beca blanched.
"No, I can fix it," she tried frantically. "I'll apologize, I'll go right now-"
"The hell you will, Mitchell," Stacie growled again. Beca tried to push past her, back through the stage door, but Stacie didn't let her.
"Let me go!"
"No!" the taller brunette shouted, shoving Beca back across the alley.
"You're not going near her again, not unless she tells me otherwise," she spat. "You're going to give her some fucking space, and maybe, by the grace of an ever-fucking-loving-and-fucked-up God, just maybe, she'll let you speak to her again. I'm serious, Mitchell. You fucked up. Don't go anywhere near my fucking friend, you hear me?"
"Stacie-"
But Stacie was gone, back inside the venue, and Beca groaned loudly in the empty alley.
God fucking damnit.
Okay, songs first: Fuck You - Manhattan Clique remix, Man I Feel Like a Woman! - Shania Twain, I Wanna Dance with Somebody - Whitney Houston, Material Girl - Madonna, Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson, Wannabe - Spice Girls, It's My Party - Lesley Gore, Moulin Rouge from Moulin Rouge.
Emily was going to sing Cheap Thrills - Sza, and Flo was going to sing Party in the USA - Miley Cyrus, in case I don't get to them.
Okay, so I know Beca's acting like a little bitch but she's *edgy* right now, okay?
I actually have her being even shittier in the next part? Like the night isn't over?
But I need some feedback, because this is slowly turning into a Enemies to Lovers fic and I'm not sure I can stand by it.
It's not like, noncon or anything.
It's just Beca being even more selfish.
Thoughts? Please review or message me or something. I like where it's going, but I'm worried I'll scare some of you away.
Okay thanks bye.