Beca made her way back to the green room to grab her stuff, but she didn't stay.
She didn't want to see Stacie, and she wasn't allowed to see Chloe, so she didn't want to see anyone.
Thankfully, there weren't many performances left anyway. In fact, everyone was probably done by now.
The brunette got her bag and went straight to the cars, not bothering with the final stage call. She figured she was already a pariah; she didn't need to call more attention to her own drama. As she slipped into the backseat of the unlocked SUV, she sighed.
She couldn't believe that she had hurt Chloe. Again. It seemed like since they met, all she'd done was hurt the redhead.
At least that tracks with my five-star personality, she thought grimly.
But all Chloe had done was try to reach out, over and over again. It didn't seem fair, or real, the way that Chloe kept giving Beca all of these chances.
Which made Beca question if any of it was real. It would make a lot more sense if Chloe was being manipulated into being nice to her.
But if CR and Stacie were right, and Chloe did have real feelings for Beca, then Beca had been treating her like shit since day numero fucking uno.
Beca had denied Chloe's friendship on the first day of Hollywood week by not sitting next to her, for no other reason than the fact that she figured she was better off alone.
Then, at brunch, the brunette had rejected juice, of all things.
And she made Chloe feel like an idiot for literally just being nice.
(But was that all it was? Just Chloe being nice?)
Whatever, at least she kinda apologized for that.
But then with groups, Beca had let Chloe and the other women down. She was already struggling with the song, and then she missed her alarm and almost ruined their chances of staying on the show at all.
She couldn't do that again.
So she tried to keep away from everyone - especially the redhead - during solos.
All the while, though, Chloe kept worming her way in. Persistently, she kept giving Beca chances, kept offering support and care.
For some unknown reason, Chloe wanted Beca to do good. To succeed.
And the redhead kept giving Beca the tools to do so.
Beca just couldn't trust it.
As Beca waited for someone to take her back to the house, her thoughts stayed on Chloe, on the softness of Chloe's lips against hers on that last night of Hollywood week.
She did remember, then, if she told Stacie about it.
So why didn't she say anything?
If Chloe would have said something, Beca would've known that the kiss was… something. Something that actually happened. Beca could have... processed it, maybe?
Maybe if they had talked about the kiss, Beca wouldn't have been so skeptical about the way the show portrayed the two of them.
But then, Chloe probably thought that Beca was watching the show as it aired.
And that I was, what? Okay with it?
Happy with it?
Totally infatuated with a hot and caring redhead and, like, totally stoked to see our weird budding whatever-the-fuck be used as reality TV fodder?
Beca groaned.
It was all so fucking stupid, anyway.
Obviously they were attracted to each other. But when Beca watched them onscreen, she couldn't understand it.
She couldn't get why Chloe was being the way she was.
And she couldn't get why everyone else seemed okay with it.
After what seemed like an hour of stewing in her own thoughts, CR and Flo climbed into the SUV with her, along with a driver, and they started towards the house.
Beca tried to sulk and ignore them, but Flo was reeling from her Party In The USA performance, and Beca tuned back in when the Guatemalan voiced her excitement for the rest of the night.
"I am excited for my first American club," she gushed. "I believe it will be a life affecting experience."
"Wait, we're not going home?"
"Hell nah," CR responded. "Most of us have reasons to celebrate, remember?"
The SUV dropped them off on a busy street, in front of a huge line of people. Somebody must have called ahead, because the women went straight into the club without checking IDs.
The club was huge inside, and at least two stories, with what looked like a couple bars on each floor. There was a big dance floor in the middle of the first floor, and the second story wrapped around in an open mezzanine.
And it was packed.
The women were escorted to a VIP area, up on the second floor, and without even so much as a word, a hot waitress brought the women a round of shots.
"They did not need to bring eight drinks," Flo said hesitantly. "There are only three of us here."
"I'm not complaining," Beca mumbled, picking up one of the shots, and CR raised two in response.
"Me neither."
By the time the rest of the contestants started arriving, Beca, Flo, and CR had had a fair share of alcohol. And even though CR wasn't particularly hospitable towards Beca, at least she was drinking with her.
CR tried to explain what Beca did, much to Beca's dismay, but Flo didn't seem to get all the animosity.
"In my country, women died of dehydration, of diarrhea, during their periods," she said, swaying back and forth slightly with the onslaught of alcohol. "What you are experiencing? It will pass."
CR shook her head and downed the final shot on their tray as Jessica, Ashley, and Fat Amy were escorted into their section.
"Beca," CR sighed. "You better recognize the situation you're in."
"What situ-aesh?" Amy called, grabbing a pair of shots off a passing tray before the waitress could even set it down.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," CR groaned, waving the topic off with an errant gesture. Ashley and Jessica shared a look, then grabbed shots off the tray as well. Amy howled as she took both of her shots.
"Does it have something to do with the fact that Shortstack is trending again?"
"I'm what?" Beca shot back, quickly grabbing her phone. She didn't have the Twitter app, so she quickly pulled the site up on her browser and saw that #BecaAndChloe was in the top twenty trending topics.
A quick scan of the top tweets revealed that most of the Twitter-ers were not on her side.
Tweet after tweet, Beca read sympathetic comments about Chloe, about how she "didn't deserve" the way Beca had treated her, and about how "authentic" her emotions were, while Beca was just being "dramatic" and "childish."
"Do you think Chloe has seen this?" Beca asked Amy, and Amy shrugged.
"I dunno," the Australian placated as she picked up the last two shots on the tray. She downed them both and shuddered.
"Maybe the ging went blind."
"I didn't."
Beca looked up to see that Stacie, Lilly, and Chloe had arrived at the VIP section, with Aubrey Plaza in tow.
"Chloe, I-" Beca stood, moving towards Chloe, but Stacie stepped between them. She pushed Beca back into her seat.
"We're here to drink, dance, and have a good time," the taller brunette spat. She glared at all of the women in front of her, her gaze settling on Beca last.
"That okay with everyone?"
"Sounds like a goddamn plan!" Plaza cheered, and a handful of women joined her.
Another round of shots appeared, and as Beca reached for one, Stacie shoved her hand away, giving the smaller brunette's shot as a second drink to Chloe instead.
Okay, Beca thought sullenly. I'll just get drunk on my own.
And an hour later, that was exactly what she had done.
She peeled off from the group, moving instead to sulk at one of the bars on the first floor as most of the women hit the dance floor. The DJ was okay, playing a steady set of club mixes and anthems, and in spite of everything, Beca found that the alcohol and the music was loosening her up.
She sucked down rum and cokes as she watched her housemates lose themselves in the music.
She was jealous; she couldn't deny it. She wanted to feel as free as they did.
But she couldn't, with the weight of her own fuck-ups weighing on her.
As the alcohol took effect, her eyes stopped seeing the group as a whole and instead sought out only Chloe, her lithe body writhing in time to the heavy beats. She watched Chloe dance with Stacie, with Aubrey Plaza, and with CR, along with a smattering of attractive men who ventured into the circle of women.
Beca's blood started to boil as she watched one guy wrap himself around her, pulling her hair off her shoulder and whispering into Chloe's ear.
She could tell the redhead was getting drunker too, as her hips began to swing a little harder, a little farther, and Beca decided she'd had enough.
She didn't need to torture herself.
She was about to call one of the drivers back to pick her up when a familiar orchestral riff faded in.
She couldn't help bobbing her head as Release Me began to play, a little heavy on the drums, but then Bulletproof swept in and she jumped to her feet.
"Holy shit!" she screamed, slamming the rest of her drink and moving towards her group of women across the dance floor. She pushed her way through the crowd, finding Plaza after a moment of searching through sweaty bodies.
"This is my song!" she yelled over the music, and Plaza laughed.
"I told you, dude!" the celebrity yelled back as she twisted and turned. "Your shit's good!"
"This is my song though!" Beca screamed. Hearing her song over the speakers, and with the addition of the alcohol, Beca started to swivel her hips in time.
And there was no denying the song was infectious, as the crowd continued to weave themselves around the beat, flowing in and out of time with Beca's mix.
"This is so cool!" Beca tried to say, and Plaza pulled the small brunette into her body.
"Just keep sending me what you have," she yelled. "You could probably even have a spot, if you wanted it. Like if you wanted an hour or something. I'll ask Javier."
"Who? What?" Beca asked reflexively, but she didn't really care. This was her dream. She was literally living her dream, right now, in this club. Her mistakes faded away as the bass thudded through the speakers, giving way to the synth of Bulletproof.
As the mix came to a close, the next song faded in, and it was another one that Beca recognized.
Natalia Kills, in a club in LA?
After La Roux?
Whatever, it wasn't like Beca was complaining.
Strong guitar chords thrummed as a bass-boosted remix of Problem started, and Beca felt every low note deep in her body.
She was feeling good.
Alcohol, adrenaline, and latent relief flooded through her as the track looped its intro, and suddenly Plaza stepped away from her, moving towards CR as the woman beckoned the judge over.
And Beca was face to face with Chloe Beale.
Beca didn't think. Couldn't think. She stepped forward, wrapping her arm around the redhead's waist and pulling her close.
Sweat, drippin' down my neck.
Thinking 'bout your tattooed knuckles on my thigh,
boy, boy, boy.
Chloe leaned into Beca's body, awkward with drunkenness, sliding a leg between the brunette's. Her body began to roll in time as Beca wrapped her other arm around Chloe's waist.
The redhead's arms went around Beca's neck, and Beca curled her head against the taller woman's shoulder.
Cold shower, you've got no
power to control
how I make you my toy, toy, toy.
Beca put possessive hands against Chloe's hips and rolled sinfully against her, and Beca heard the redhead inhale sharply.
My hips rocking as we keep lip locking.
Got the neighbors screaming
even, "Louder, louder."
Lick me down like you were
rolling rizia, like I'm smoking.
Come and put me out.
Beca spun Chloe in her arms, pressing up against the redhead's backside, pulling her hair like a curtain, away from that perfectly freckled neck.
I'm your dream girl,
this is real love.
Beca ran her lips up the column of tendons, against the shell of her ear as she softly hummed the next lyrics.
But you know what they say about me.
"That girl is a problem.
girl is a problem.
girl is a problem, problem."
She felt Chloe shudder and press against her, rotating her hips so that she dug into Beca, pressing against her in a way that felt so right and yet not enough at the same time.
But then Chloe ran a hand up, and back, threading itself in Beca's hair and pulling the woman closer, if that was possible. Chloe was taller, but as she danced, the woman had dropped, and now Beca was wrapped tightly over her shoulder.
Oh baby,
you're so bad, boy.
Drive me mad, boy,
but you don't care what they say about me.
The brunette's hands bracketed Chloe's hips, but the redhead grabbed them, forcing one of Beca's hands up onto her rib cage, and the other, lower, against the front of her hip.
"That girl is a problem.
girl is a problem.
girl is a problem, problem."
God damn problem.
Beca unintentionally gripped with both hands, the one at Chloe's ribs bunching up the fabric of her unbuttoned short sleeve shirt and tank, while the other hand tightened around Chloe's upper thigh. Chloe arched under her palms, pressing further into the curve of Beca's hips.
I got your name hanging from my chain.
Don't you want to claim my body like a vandal?
Got the cure underneath your shirt.
Don't you want to save this dirty little damsel?
It was Beca's turn to gasp when Chloe spun back around, eyes meeting hers, their gazes locking as Chloe righted herself. She had one hand entangled in her own hair, and the other found its way to Beca's hip, then further, pulling Beca into her with her hand on the smaller woman's ass.
Beca's hands settled higher this time, on the curve of Chloe's middle back, where her shirt had been pulled up surreptitiously. The pair started to slow as they got impossibly close, and Beca felt intoxicated by the proximity.
Got my mink coat falling to the
motel floor, you're on the bed
wolf whistling. "Louder, louder."
Your lips smudging all my makeup,
kicking both my heels off.
Come and pin me down.
Beca's palms were flat against the flush skin of Chloe's back as the redhead clawed at the nape of Beca's neck, raking against the brunette's sensitive skin as their hips rolled in perfect synchronicity.
Then, suddenly, cold air rushed in, and Beca opened her eyes to see that Stacie had pulled Chloe away from the smaller brunette and was now standing in her place.
She shoved Beca back, lifted her fist, and swung, connecting solidly with Beca's jaw.
The song was still going, and Beca blinked back tears as she tested her jaw.
She touched it softly, and even through the alcohol, she could feel the tenderness.
"Leave," Stacie yelled over the music. "Before I hit you again."
Beca tried to look over her shoulder, to Chloe, but the older woman hid behind her friend.
"Fuck," Beca whispered.
And she turned to leave, the Natilia Kills song chasing her out as she stepped onto the pavement of the cold LA night.
We're hell-raising, and we don't need saving,
cuz there's no salvation for a bad girl.
We're rock bottom, but there ain't no stopping,
cuz they don't know nothing about love.
We're hell-raising, and we don't need saving,
cuz there's no salvation for a bad boy.
We're rock bottom, but there ain't no stopping,
cuz it's you and me against the world.
Songs - Bulletproof vs. Release Me by The Outfit, and Problem by Natalia Kills.