Author's Note: Thank you for the kind words and support. I've watched PP1 about a thousand times these past several days, and I stand firmly by how I've chosen to characterize Aubrey, Beca, and their relationship for this story. I'm still incredibly nervous to post this chapter, but I woke up in the middle of the night last night and couldn't stop writing it after days of nothing.
However, before reading this chapter, I just want to remind everyone that, all in all, this story is about Aubrey. If you don't like Aubrey as a character or if you don't like the way I have chosen to write her, this is probably not the story for you. As for Beca - I like Beca. I like her in my story and as a character in general, and I really enjoy the storyline I have planned for her. It is something I have put a lot of deep thought into and it's something I find satisfying and that I'm not going to change. I'm not just writing this story as it comes to me. It is fully planned out from beginning to end - and I like where it ends and I have put effort into each and every character throughout. But this isn't an 'ease all suffering' kind of story with immediate relief. It's slow and brutal, because sometimes that's what trauma is.
I also want to remind everyone before this chapter that I openly do not tag with trigger warnings seeing as most of my work generally revolves around darker topics. No one has said anything in regards to that, but I just want to make sure it's clear that this is a 'read at your own risk' story.
Dysrhythmia
Even if we both break down tonight,
And you say you hate me,
And we go to bed angry,
I know everything will be alright;
I'll be here waiting.
I promise I'm changing;
I just need time.
- NF
BECA
Pt. I
Aubrey,
I'm sorry. Don't blame yourself.
~ Beca
Tell Chloe I love her.
Thank the high heavens for New York traffic, because the last thing Beca hears cannot be the sheer devastation in Aubrey's voice as she walks out the door. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to leave this suddenly. Her footsteps are loud as she clambers down the stairs toward the driveway, stopping only to throw her bag behind a bush so she doesn't have to haul it with her. She has no idea where she's going, only that she needs to be long gone before Chloe's parents get back and potentially try to look for her. That's why the sudden rush. It has nothing to do with Aubrey and everything to do with the temporary window in which she can escape with no one to go after her – and, god, she hopes Aubrey is smart enough to figure that out one day sooner than later.
The city stretches out in front of her as she reaches the end of the driveway and the freedom is suffocating. The endless supply of oxygen strangles her until she cannot breathe and her lungs cry out for her to turn around and retreat to safety. She pushes forward, tears obscuring her vision, threatening to betray her stoicism right there on the street in front of groups of people milling around outside of pizza shops and apartment buildings. At least this is New York; no one pays her much attention.
She walks steadily until she reaches the nearest crosswalk, hesitates on direction, then crosses over toward a more residential looking area illuminated mainly by streetlights. The farther she goes, the fewer people she passes, and when five minutes go by without another person in sight, that's when the first choked cry finds her throat. There's no trying to hold closed the flood gates anymore after that. She turns into a dark walkway between two rundown looking apartment buildings and braces herself against one of the brick walls while trying in vain to keep her sobs inaudible. It's difficult now that she's alone without Aubrey to pretend to be strong for or Mrs. Beale to nag her about whether or not she's okay.
Perhaps she could have put all of the emotions bubbling inside of her off longer had Aubrey actually needed her to be strong. Instead, without Chloe, Aubrey is spiraling off the deep end, aching for connection and finding only Beca and her impenetrable walls. She wants to meet that need, maybe even owes it to her, but she can't sit in that hospital room and say it's killing her too when she's the reason Chloe is in there to begin with. Even now, she still can't pinpoint the signs that led them to this. Sure, Jesse was always jealous, but never in a million years could Beca see this coming. Jesse was what everybody, even Beca herself, considered the perfect guy. That's why Beca had chosen him. Because he was safe, and at the time, settling seemed to outweigh the risks that came with Chloe and Aubrey.
And then there was Luke too.
Even Aubrey knows that it just doesn't make sense.
Beca just wishes she had her same determination to find the answers.
Instead, she wants to make this all go away – and there aren't a lot of options for how to make that happen. She pushes herself away from the wall, hyperventilating, and paces up and down the asphalt. For the briefest of moments, she considers calling her dad to come get her. The crushing reality that he's dead still hasn't quite sunk in. It hasn't quite sunk in yet that anybody is dead, even the people she personally watched die. But it's a lie to say she feels like she wasn't there to see it. She was. She definitely fucking was. She still sees it every time she closes her eyes – her father's body, Aubrey trying to revive Cynthia-Rose, the blood all over Chloe's face.
She's never going to be able to face Chloe again, conscious or unconscious.
That's the hardest part.
That's the part she really can't live with.
It's the cruelest irony how she's the only one who was supposed to survive and probably the only one who would rather be dead. Except for maybe Aubrey. But she can't see Aubrey giving up that easily. At least not while she still has something to live for. Eventually, Aubrey will bounce back from this and get on with life, because she still has a life to get on with. Even without Chloe, she still has a career and a family…
Glass from a broken beer bottle crunches under Beca's shoe. The tears come harder as she paces back and forth over the shards, making minimal effort not to step on them. A few of them stick in the soles of her shoes, none of them quite large enough to poke all the way through to her feet. The past few days of planning what she was going to do to herself never ended with a Yuengling bottle in a dark New York alley. But that's where she is. This is it for her.
This must be what Aubrey feels like when her anxiety gets the best of her, because impulsively leaning over to pick up a jagged piece of glass, she feels like she's going to puke. The glass is wet and slippery, and she holds it between two fingers, waiting for some miracle sign like Chloe to walk around the corner and talk her out of it. If some higher power thought she deserved to live, it would give her that. If God was real, he would have at the very fucking least spared Chloe. Chloe didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.
The moment Jesse suggested she invite Chloe to the wedding, she should have said no. But there was a chance to see her again, and that's all she really wanted. Now she's probably going to die because Beca couldn't get her feelings for her under control. That's what caused all of this. That's what caused her problems with Aubrey, with Jesse, and with Chloe, and now everyone is dead because of it.
Her hands are shaking as she touches the glass to her skin and she's still racking her mind for any reason this is the wrong choice. It's more difficult to press down than she thought it would be. Contrary to popular belief in high school, just because she wore a lot of black, she was not one of those 'emo' kids who cut herself. Did she hate life? Sure – but not in a way that made her want to end it. Not like this.
"I figured you'd be a basket case too," a male voice interrupts her.
Beca startles and throws the glass on the ground. "Get away from me." It occurs to her too late that she should have kept the glass in her hand. Just because she's ready to kill herself doesn't mean someone else gets to complete the job – not after what she's been through.
"Relax, I followed you from that donut shop you're living in. I guess my parents drive faster than public transportation. They're on their way here, by the way. They're going to have a field day with you."
This is Chloe's brother. Beca tries to catch her breath and blink away her tears. There isn't a lot of resemblance between the two of them. This guy has dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin…but Beca has stared at Chloe's eyes enough to know the shape of them, and she sees it immediately, even in the dark. "Dude, fuck off." She turns and presses her back against the brick wall behind her.
"If you leave, I'll follow you."
"What the hell do you care?"
"I don't," he assures her, "But Chloe does."
"Chloe's unconscious."
"And what about if she wakes up?" he asks, "Don't you think it'd be a shit thing to tell her that you survived then offed yourself a few weeks later? Then she gets to live with the guilt of not being awake to stop you."
If this is her 'sign', she couldn't have asked for anything worse. "I said fuck off." She looks toward the other end of the alley, but her exit is blocked by a wooden fence twice her height. She can't imagine Chloe taking pleasure in her death any more than she can imagine Aubrey not blaming her, but Aubrey has told her several times now she isn't responsible for this, so who knows? She looks down at the glass then at what little space she has to squeeze by Chloe's brother and weighs her options here.
"I'll tackle you. Don't be a moron."
Her only option is wipe her face with the sleeve of her shirt and be fine. A few deep breaths and she has her breathing under control again even though her heart is still pounding against her ribcage. She was just going for a walk… She needed some fresh air and some time alone. She'll be back later. Yeah, she can sell that. Possibly. She's still somewhat convinced Chloe's mom has some sort of telepathic powers. There's still the option to pick up the glass again and go through with it, but now she's slowly getting her wits about her again and she's seen enough people to die in front of her to know what that does to a person. She wouldn't wish that on anyone.
The longer she stands in this alley, the more time she has to think about how she has no idea how she's supposed to ever get over this. It wouldn't surprise her if Chloe's parents took this opportunity to have her committed before she can figure it out, because God knows they have their hands full enough with Chloe and Aubrey. It's not really that Beca doesn't want to stay with them and with Aubrey, but how can she? Then there's the matter of free loading at some strangers' apartment on top of that... And what happens once she drains her bank account? It's not like she has a job to return to. She rakes her hand through her hair and hopes they show up soon if only so she won't have any more time to think about it all.
The high beams from a truck fill the entirety of the alleyway about ten minutes later then leave her in the dark again once it's parked. Chloe's mom exits out of the driver's side, looking about 10x more worried than when Beca last saw her – and she had already looked pretty damn worried. "Daniel, thank you," she says once she's close enough for them to hear her.
"Figured you'd want someone in line after Aubrey," he states.
"Get in the car," Julia demands of him, exasperated, and approaches Beca, "Hey."
"What's up, Mrs. B?" Beca tries to laugh, but it sounds more like she's choking over her own saliva, "I was just trying to go for a walk and he…" She should have thought harder about her excuse, because he didn't actually do anything threatening.
"Come on. Let's go somewhere that isn't this alley." Julia rests a hand on her upper back, urging her to walk toward the truck. "Where do you want to go?"
That question doesn't have an answer.
"Pennsylvania," Noah says, "That's where she wants to go. It's a good thing I'm goin' that direction."
Pennsylvania? God, no.
"I think that's a great idea," Julia agrees, "You can have some space and some fresh air."
But what about Aubrey sits in the corner of her mind like she wasn't about to just abandon her completely. Really, they should get her a hotel there somewhere in bumfuck Pennsylvania, because Aubrey is never going to let her back into that apartment – and she's almost too stubborn to want to step foot back in there after leaving. Almost. The thought of going anywhere else, of going somewhere alone, fills her with sickening dread. "I am fine…." She stuffs her shaking hands into her pockets. Sure, Emily did ask her if she needed a place to stay, but she can't go there. She doesn't want to go there. She doesn't want to go anywhere. She doesn't want to be anywhere. Tears keep blurring her vision and she clamps her eyes shut, holding her breath to keep from sobbing.
"Beca, you're going to make yourself hyperventilate. Take a breath."
Beca shakes her head even though her lungs start to burn and force her to take one anyway. She goes about holding that one too until her entire body feels uncomfortably hot and starts to tingle. How could this lady be so fucking nice to her after what she did to her daughter? She's trembling out of control as she drawn into a hug. "I did this to them!" The words just fall out as she tries to shove her away. "Get off of me! I did this to her!" She pushes harder, but Chloe's mom only tightens her grip. "Get off!"
"We're going to the truck."
"I didn't know…"
"I know you didn't." Julia pulls her along, still keeping one arm hooked around her as she opens the back door.
"There should have…I…"
"Nobody is blaming you, Beca. Nobody believes this is your fault, because it's not. Do you know how I know that?" Julia helps her into the back seat then climbs in beside her. "If you had done this to Chloe, I don't believe you'd be alive right now. I have very little doubt that Aubrey would have killed you."
It sounds like a big assumption until it sinks in that she's absolutely right. The second Jesse took a step toward Chloe, Aubrey shot him. She literally pulled out a gun and put a bullet in him without even so much as a second of hesitation. And while that should have made her absolutely terrifying, it kind of made Beca want to hide behind her instead, because when it came down to it, Aubrey would do what needed to be done even if it meant killing someone in self-defense.
"Noah, are the child locks on back here?" Julia asks and closes the door.
"Yes, they are."
She pulls on the handle to double check then rests her hand on Beca's back. "Take me back to Aubrey, please, and then Beca can go with you."
"I just want to go home." Once upon a time, she had one of those. "I want my dad." She had one of those once upon a time too. Now he was dead and someone should be planning a funeral but nobody was because he had been taken and burned beyond recognition with everybody else. She leans forward with her head between her knees. She wasted so much time being mad at him.
"I know. I know." Julia scratches up and down her back with her nails.
"No, you don't!" Beca sits back up. "You don't know!" How could she? "You weren't there!"
"I'm not claiming to understand," Julia replies, "You're right. I wasn't there and I cannot understand how you're feeling right now. But I know that your whole life has been uprooted and you're grieving in your own way."
Beca sniffs, disgusted with herself for bawling, and scoots up against the door.
"You are so much like Aubrey," Julia breathes and lets her hand fall, "That's probably why you can never manage to get along."
"We are nothing alike." Aubrey is incredibly rude with her own best interests in mind – only, that's not completely true; she nearly died for Chloe while it was Beca struggling with the idea of putting her own life on the line. Maybe if Beca could think clearly, she could conjure up some other differences.
"You both protect yourselves so hard from people."
"You're both cowards," Daniel chimes in.
"That is not true," Julia says.
Beca forgot he was even in the car. She turns her face and presses it against the window glass so no one can see it anymore.
"Do you need some tissues?" Julia asks when she wipes her nose against her sleeve.
"I don't need anything." She needs for all of this to be over – this whole terrible life. She pulls her feet up onto the seat with her so her knees are close to her chest. "Send me back to LA."
"You're not going back to LA. You're stuck with us."
They can't just stop her from leaving. She isn't a kid. She just has no money to get back there with. …and nothing for her once she gets there.
"I'm not grateful they took me in either," Daniel comments.
"I am grateful! Would you shut up?" Beca is more than grateful. For Chloe's parents. For Aubrey. For Aubrey's friends. They could have left her in Seattle if they had wanted to, and then what? She'd be on the streets without a choice. She wraps her arms around her legs and pulls them in closer to hide the shaking her body is doing.
"You deserve to be somewhere safe, Beca," Julia says as they pull up to the café, "And you're here because we want you to be. Including Aubrey. Things aren't going to change between the two of you overnight, but I do think they are changing."
Aubrey's voice is the first thing Beca hears when Julia opens the car door. Beca can't make out what she's saying, but when she looks up, it's clear Aubrey is having a very one-sided argument with the police officer parked outside. It's difficult to imagine that conversation being about anything other than her disappearance even though she definitely tries to think up some other reasons Aubrey might be distressed and outside.
"I'm not going to tell her what happened," Julia says, "But I am going to tell her you're coming back." She looks at Noah. "Don't let her out of your sight."
"I'm on it." He looks at Beca through the mirror.
"Why aren't you taking me to the hospital?" Beca asks.
"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Julia replies.
Beca shakes her head. That is one of the last places she wants to be.
"Get some rest." Julia gives her knee a squeeze then gets out of the car with Noah's assistance and shuts the door behind her.
Beca watches her approach Aubrey and the police officer. It takes all of five seconds for her to be able to usher Aubrey back inside. She's good with her. Like Chloe is – was – is. Maybe had Beca made more of an effort in the beginning, tried harder to be patient rather than being defiant, they wouldn't be like this. Chloe had flat out told her that tough love wasn't going to get her anywhere, and Beca had laughed her off. It never occurred to her how much worse she was making things until it was too late. She lowers herself onto her side across the backseat and shuts her eyes.
xxxxx
"Do you wanna come sit up front?" Noah asks.
It feels like she just laid down in the back. Beca sits up as Daniel opens the door and exits the car onto a street full of sketchy looking people hovering around their cars. She doesn't really want to get out of the car here.
"Suit yourself." Daniel slams the door.
"Goodbye, Son!" Noah calls after him through the closed door. They both watch him approach a group of guys and take a cigarette from one of them then get a light from another. "I keep tellin' myself he'll get it together someday."
He probably shouldn't hold his breath. Beca scoots into the middle seat as someone gets too close to her side of the truck. The guy gives the truck itself the middle finger and just keeps walking.
"Let's get outta here. You want anything? Food? Coffee?"
"Uh, yeah, coffee, I guess."
"You're in luck. I know a place. Get it? I Noah." He laughs at his own joke.
That was terrible and Beca cringes in response.
"Chloe hates that one too." He doesn't seem too offended by that. "But in the comedy world, I'm kind of a big Beale."
Beca doesn't have it in her to laugh or to even feel like laughing. She leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes again at the mention of Chloe. Everything about her parents reminds Beca of her. They don't have to look like her. She hears Chloe in their tones of voices, sees her in their facial expressions. She tries to find comfort it in, but it gives her chest pain. She should have told her she was in love with her. It would have killed Aubrey, but she should have made sure Chloe knew it. Beca didn't want to be 'the other woman', but she should have spared Chloe the pain - not that Chloe stopped to think about how much pain Beca was in when she realized the on and off relationship Chloe had with Aubrey of all people. Thinking about it now, Beca begins to resent her. She almost feels taken advantage of.
She had only been a freshman when Chloe came along – naïve and inexperienced. And Chloe – beautiful, funny, charming – came at her so strongly that Beca couldn't resist.
They all made shitty mistakes.
But until recently, in her mind, Chloe had always been so perfect.
Now Beca was beginning to see she had some pretty fucked up flaws like the rest of them. It's a lot to take in. She never thought of red flags when it came to Chloe, but they were all over. She was just blind to some of them and the rest she projected onto Aubrey. Still. Beca should have told her. They all should have just been honest with each other instead of creating this toxic wasteland where no one was happy.
"Are you feeling any better?" Noah asks.
It's lies that got them all here. Beca shakes her head. She's not sure she's every going to feel 'better'.
"I should warn you, you might not be going to the hospital, but you're about to experience full on house arrest. You'll be lucky if you can go to the bathroom alone."
Part of Beca regrets thinking about killing herself and the other part regrets not going through with it. She would have been dead by now.
"I see a Dunkin' Donuts up ahead. That okay?"
She nods.
"We might get it more than you think – my wife and I." Noah turns into the drive-thru and stops behind another car. "We've both been there in that place where it seems the only way through is out. No hope. Surrounded by people but feeling alone. But you're not alone. We're all experiencing the same fear when it comes to Chloe right now, and the rest of it…you got Aubrey. I know she's a lot, but she's a sweet girl. Easy to win over too."
Easy for him to say.
"You just gotta tell her she's doing a good job at something. Doesn't matter what it is. You just gotta mean it. She's a words of affirmation kind of person. She doesn't read between the lines very well. But you do that and all she'll want is to hear it again." He rolls down his window. "What are you havin'?"
"Just coffee."
"Cream and sugar?"
Beca nods. If it'll help take away the headache she has, she doesn't care what the caffeine has in it.
"You wanna talk about anything?" he asks after he orders and their coffees plus a box of donuts are handed to them.
"Like what? Nothing happened to me." Chloe's in a coma. Aubrey is injured and sick as fuck from it. Everyone else is dead. And she's walking around without a scratch on her.
"Something happened to you."
Beca swirls her coffee around in the cup. "I don't want to talk about it." She isn't sure she can survive talking about what happened to everyone else.
"You wanna talk about Chloe? Or you and Aubrey?"
"Dude, no. I can't."
Noah bobs his head in response. "…wanna rock out?"
"I…" Beca tries to say no, but it's a difficult suggestion to pass up and it stops them from talking. "Yeah, fine, whatever."
"I'm going to pull out the angst playlist. You're gonna like this."
She hopes his playlists are nothing like his humor. They are.
"Come on, sing with me, Beca." He taps a beat against the steering wheel. "Like somehow you just don't belong and no one understands you. Do you ever wanna run away? Do you lock yourself in your room with the radio on, turned up so loud that no one hears you screaming? I know you know this song."
"You're giving me flashbacks of my parents' divorce."
Noah bursts out laughing. "And this song made you feel better, didn't it? I bet you also listened to Linkin Park. Got some of that on here too."
Beca is going to plead the fifth on that one. It really sucks how right he is. It's not like the music itself is particularly bad, but Beca herself was pretty cringey back then. She had been twelve when this song came out; at the time, she was begging her mom for black hair and threatening to get a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on her neck just because she knew it would piss her parents off. It was no wonder that in a fit of anger, her mother once called her 'the daughter of Satan' – to which Beca had responded 'so, you?' She breathes a laugh at the memory. It's hard to believe those were better times. "To be hurt, to feel lost, to be left out in the dark, to be pushed when your down, to feel like you've been kicked around, to be on the edge of breaking down and no one there to save you. No, you don't know what it's like. Welcome to my life."
xxxxx
It's takes a few songs, but eventually Beca is convinced to climb over the seats to the front.
"I got the premium Spotify." Noah passes her his phone. "That's the bomb-ass shit right there. No commercials. You should see what these speakers can really do." He opens the windows a crack then cranks up the sound loud enough to wake everyone within a hundred miles radius.
Beca delves deep into his playlist that is literally labeled 'ANGST'. "Why do you even have this?"
"Because my wife hates it!" he shouts over the music, "It makes for the best road trips!"
"I don't know if you're ready for this one!" Beca says as she chooses a song.
"Hit me! Oh yeah!" He head bangs as hard as he can without needing to take his eyes off the road. "Can we forget about the things I said while I was drunk? I didn't mean to call you that. I can't remember what was said or what you threw at me. Please tell me whyyyy…"
Beca is almost certain they're louder than the music itself, if that's even possible. "My car is in the front yard and I'm sleeping with my clothes on. I came in through the window last night, and you're gone. Gooone." Her father had once tried to be like this, the 'cool dad', and she sings louder to forget how much she had taken that for granted. God, she had hated him trying to sing with her. Now she'd do anything for it. "It's no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, 'cause every now and then I kick the living shit outta me." She forgot how good some of these songs were at being a release as some of the anger dissipates.
"Why when I sing these songs by men do I feel so much like a teenage girl?" Noah asks when Thnks fr th Mmrs comes on next.
That makes Beca laugh. "They make me feel like a teenage boy." They both share a puzzled look.
"Wait, wait, I got one for our gender crisis." Noah takes the phone back and scrolls through it. "Now don't lie to me, I know you know every lyric to this song."
The first few notes of Barbie Girl send Beca into a music crisis. "There is no way I will ever sing this song. This isn't even angst."
"You're Ken! He seems like he could be an angsty dude." He jumps into the song with an exaggerated impersonation of Barbie.
Beca never wants to see him and Conrad sing together. She decides this completely. "You will never tell anyone about this."
"You have my word."
Beca looks out the window and wipes the remainder of her tears from her face as she clears her throat to hit the lowest note possible. "Come on, Barbie, let's go party." This is it. This is her rock bottom. Not wanting to kill herself. It doesn't get much lower than Barbie Girl by Aqua. Things can only go up from here.
xxxxx
There's a sense of calm that washes over Beca as the café comes into view. She expected to be nervous to march back in there and be face to face with Aubrey. But Aubrey isn't pissed at her; she's just fucking scared. (And, okay, she might still be a little pissed at her, but Beca is really starting to realize that Aubrey portrays herself a whole lot bigger than she actually is.)
"You ready?" Noah turns off the car.
"Yeah." Beca is about to make an effort this time; a real one. What does she have to lose? "I think I am." She pauses with her hand on the door. "Thanks."
"Anytime. Go ahead in. I have to say goodnight to my boat. She missed me. But I will be keeping an eye on you until you get in the door."
"I'm – I'm fine now." Beca tries to sound convincing even though there's a sinking feeling in the center of her chest as she says it when it couldn't be farther from the truth.
"I'm still watchin'." Noah points two fingers between his eyes and hers.
"Got it." Beca opens the door and slides out of the truck. You got this, Beca. She shuts the door, exhales a lengthy breath, then walks to the stairs with ease. The door is locked and Conrad and Julia both let her in together when she knocks.
"You calmer now?" Julia asks right off the bat.
"Uh, yeah. Where's Aubrey?"
"Bedroom."
Beca has no idea what the fuck she's going to say, but she can't get there fast enough to say it. The door is cracked open and the light is on, so she lets herself in without knocking and shuts the door behind her. "Aubrey, I-"
"I want to go first," Aubrey interrupts her.
Her words almost make Beca laugh because they're the most Aubrey-like words she's ever heard. The amusement fades when she looks at Aubrey's bloodshot eyes, however, and it's clear that somehow Aubrey knows what she almost did. She's quick to place the blame on Julia until she sees Aubrey's computer open on the nightstand. Beca had forgot to log herself out of her social media – and open on the screen is Emily's question asking if she needed a place to stay left unanswered. Next to it, on the floor, is Beca's bag. There was also her note. She definitely doesn't know what to say now.
There's a keyboard on the bed that Beca didn't notice when she walked into the room. It looks to be relatively used and has Conrad's name written across the back of it in purple glitter glue. Aubrey sits crisscross and pulls it closer to her. She's nervous, hyper-focused on her breathing as she places her only working hand on the keys. The notes she plays are slow, solemn, familiar in a way that Beca can't quite place – even with one hand, it sounds beautiful. It isn't until Aubrey starts singing that Beca realizes it's a song she knows – but this is Aubrey's interpretation; she made it her own.
"I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend. You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in. And if you do not want to see me again, I would understand. I would understand. The angry boy a bit too insane, icing over a secret pain; you know you don't belong. You're the first to fight. You're way too loud. You're the flash of light on the burial shroud. I know something's wrong. Well, everyone I know has got a reason to say – put the past away."
Maybe they are too much alike.
"I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend. You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in. And if you do not want to see me again, I would understand. I would understand. Well, he's on the table and he's gone to code, and I do not think anyone knows what they're doing here. And your friends have left you. You've been dismissed. I never thought it would come to this and I – I want you to know everyone's got to face down the demons. Maybe today, we can put the past away."
The Aubrey Beca is hearing now is an Aubrey that Beca only knew existed through stories told to her by Chloe – and that Beca wasn't sure was actually real. It sure always sounded like a figment of Chloe's imagination. But the raw emotion in her voice is undeniable and it's so much more beautiful than when it's clear all she's thinking about it hitting the right notes.
Beca forces herself out of the daze she's in listening to her, because Aubrey is trying to communicate with her – like actually trying in a way that she knows Beca will understand her. This is her chance to figure it out back. She approaches the bed and sits next to her slowly so as not to rock the keyboard then watches her hand. Contrary to what Aubrey believes, Beca is not completely inept when it comes to musical instruments. She might have shorter fingers than Aubrey has, but she can still play the damn keyboard. She catches on at the very end and picks up the slack that Aubrey's other hand can't. This is what it looks like to meet in the middle.
"I wish we could step back from that ledge, my friend. We could cut ties with all the lies that we've been living in. But if you do not want to see me again, I would understand. I would understand. I would understand."
The silence as Aubrey pushes the keyboard back is almost too heavy to hold. "That was-" Beca searches for a word to use that can encompass all of her thoughts. There was so many words in the English vocabulary and none of them seem right, so she takes the best one before it's too late to finish her sentence. "Enchanting."
The corners of Aubrey's lips turn upward in a small that fades just as quickly as it appears. She looks so god damn…broken. "We're gonna get this right eventually."
"Three-hundredths time's a charm," Beca mutters. "Aubrey, I…"
"Me too," Aubrey fills the gap when Beca still can't find the words. She finally makes eye contact. "Are you okay?"
Beca responds with a loud breath of air through her mouth. Her vocal cords tighten, making it impossible for her to answer even if she wanted to. The false calm she felt seconds prior disappears and tears begin welling up in her eyes again. She's not okay. She's fucking devastated. She wants to fucking die and get away from this.
There's another silence and Aubrey looks like she's thinking, or even quite possibly hesitating. She looks off to the side then decides to turn her whole body toward Beca and, in one swift moment, has her wrapped in the tightest hug Beca has ever been pulled into. It knocks them both over and they stay there, legs tangled, eyes squeezed shut, both of them stuck in this nightmare together.
"Are you okay?" Beca finally finds the ability to speak.
Aubrey nods into her shoulder.
Beca doesn't believe her any more than she believes her own lies. Aubrey still feels like a fucking furnace. She slides her hands under her shirt to cool her down and tries to keep telling herself that, somehow, they are both going to survive this.
Song used: Jumper (rendition by Kina Grannis)