A/N: I still can't believe that you guys actually like this enough to want a chapter three ;,/ And I still can't believe that I am actually WRITING a chapter three, when I hadn't planned and/or expected to continue past the completely out of the blue one-shot that is now chapter one.

Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, following, and leaving a like; you guys have no idea how much it means to me :,)).

Disclaimer: I don't own the Pitch Perfect universe.

Chloe has never been this anxious to call her best friend over something like what she is currently bursting at the seams with to call said best friend for before.

Certainly—like most people in the world—she has called her go to person of everyday life crises to rant and gush about crushes and instant attractions millions of times before, has rambled to her partner in crime (well, justice actually, since said partner is now a junior freaking lawyer) of about a decade about a pretty face or a magnetic chemistry, but never in her life has it been over something this serious, something this intense, something this...frightening.

Never has it been over her falling in love with her neighbor whom she didn't even know existed until just that morning.

She thinks it should be some sort of a world record, under the one labeled "fastest and stupidest love at first sight."

Chloe takes in a deep breath and holds it in as she listens to the dialing beep of her phone, fingers tapping a frantic beat on her thigh as she waits, simultaneously excited about what she is going to say and nervous about how her best friend is going to react.

If she knew Aubrey at all, she would know that the blonde is going to be so far from pleased that it would take a plane ride and a couple hundred thousand worth of jet-fueled naps over large bodies of water for her—them—to see eye to eye on the reason and spontaneity of her sky-dive-no-parachute equivalence of a jump over the cliff of platonic and unromantic feelings.

But she does know her—quite well actually, due to the craziness and discovery of self-identity that is college—and because of that, Chloe also knows that while it may take a while for her to get there, Aubrey is also going to be the one who is going to dumbly but worriedly jump after her just so she can air swim towards her and latch a parachute onto her back to prevent her thousand feet drop to her untimely demise.

She just hopes that she won't lose her nerve by the time that moment arrives.

"Hello?"

The breath that had been clinging to her throat now puffs out at the sound of the greeting, and Chloe closes her eyes in reaction to her erratic nerves as she says, "Bree. You will not believe this, but I've got something really important to say that I think you will not like."

"What is it?" A gasp floats through the earpiece, "Did you not pass the test?"

Chloe opens her eyes and frowns, having to take a minute to understand what Aubrey is talking about, "Oh, no- I mean, yes, I did- I mean," she lets out a humorless laugh and attempts to rein in her scattered thoughts, "I think I did pretty okay on the test but the results won't come out until the end of this week." She then continues before she can get any further sidetracked, "Anyway, that's not the point, or the reason why I'm calling."

"What do you mean that's not the point; your medical career depends on it and—"

"I have a neighbor next door with a dog and I think I may have just fallen in love with her," Chloe blurts out, unable to hold the words in any longer. Her free hand leaves her thigh to play with the coaster on the coffee table, index finger tracing the smooth and colorful rim, and she tries to use it as an outlet for her anxiety, lest she positively combusts with all the pent up emotions raging inside her.

She has always depended more on touch rather than the four other bodily senses to soothe herself from unwanted feelings, whether it be anger, sadness, nervousness, frustration, embarrassment, or—and this is the most triggering of all—jealousy.

"What?!" Aubrey's shout of incredulity yanks her out of her thoughts, "You have a neighbor?! Since when?"

Funny how that is what her best friend latches on to; as if the idea that she is in love with said neighbor is unsurprising at all.

"Since um, this morning," Chloe answers sheepishly, knowing that the information is not going to help her matters at all. The finger on the coaster picks up just a tiny bit more speed.

There is an indecipherable voice on the other end, followed by a muffled apology, "I'm so sorry, sir. It's just my friend; she's-" The voice returns, this time at the right volume for Chloe to make out the concern lacing it's tone, and she instantly bites her lip at the sudden realization that Aubrey is still at work, "Oh, no, sir, she's fine. Completely fine." Then there is a brief pause in which the voice—Chloe is going to assume at this point that it belongs to Aubrey's boss—makes a particularly gentle statement, prompting her to open her mouth to let her friend know that she can call her back, but then Aubrey is saying, "Actually, sir, can I take you up on the offer to leave a bit earlier for today? My friend just found herself in a bit of a sticky situation and I'm afraid that she might need my help to get her out of it."

Great.

Chloe finds herself torn between relief and indignation as the shuffling of papers resonates from her phone into her ears, trying to decide on whether is she is more glad that Aubrey did not get in trouble with her boss at work or whether she is more put out that Aubrey thinks her "situation" is alarming enough for her to warrant an early leave with said boss on the last half hour of her work for the day.

She didn't get the chance to settle on one however, because Aubrey is already diving right in, "Okay now tell me how exactly did you manage to fall for someone you've just met this morning?"

Chloe sighs, the memory still fresh like snow on the front of her mind, "I was sleeping when her dog woke me up at six this morning with his insistent barking right outside my bedroom window, and I had gotten pissed and stormed into her backyard and yelled at her, only to see that her adorable dog was just being overly energetic and friendly, and then she invited me in for coffee and a chat over whether Eternal Flame is too old to be considered pop."

"No, it's not; and it's so like you to just storm into a stranger's backyard and let her have it and then agree to have a chat about music over coffee right afterwards, Chloe," Aubrey says, and if it hadn't been for the small chuckle accompanying her words, Chloe would have been mildly offended.

"Her dog's name is Guetta!" She protests, as if that is a valid reason enough—which it is—for her actions, "Tell me that's not cute."

Aubrey groans, "Of course it is. And let me guess, you told her about Titanium?"

Dang, is she really that easy of a person to predict?

Chloe decides not to comment, but her silence is an answer in and of itself, and she removes her phone from her ear and sets it on the coffee table before her at the lower pitched replica of Aubrey's groan, the memory of Beca's blink of surprise at the aftermath of her admission earlier that day still dancing valiantly in front of her eyes.

She puts the rightfully exasperated blonde on speaker and stands up to pace nervously in front of the tv, hands reaching up to twist into the collar of her shirt and teeth clamping down to worry habitually onto her bottom lip, and she stares unseeingly at the carpet under her feet as her heart flutters at the continual mental loop of the girl next door.

No, it's definitely not healthy for her to feel this way; she doesn't even need her lawyer of a best friend to inform her of this fact.

If only her stupid jump-first-think-later of an organ in her chest—on her sleeve—can catch on to the memo.

"I'm on my way over, Chloe. We're going to continue to talk about this later in your house but before I arrive, please try not to panic or make your way back over there, okay?"

Her toes dig into the carpet at her turn and change of direction of her step, "Okay."

Chloe is still pacing by the time Aubrey knocks on the front door, her phone screen long since gone dark by the time she runs to let her best friend in, and her arms immediately goes to wrap around Aubrey's neck as soon as she reaches the end of the second she allows the blonde to take off her shoes.

"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here," she says, her face buried in Aubrey's hair, voice unsteady with emotion and gratitude, "Thank you so much for leaving your amazing job early for this."

"Of course," Aubrey replies, reaching a hand to rub comfortingly between Chloe's shoulder blades, "I would have even if my boss hadn't offered and reassured me to; it is the right thing to do." She then pats lightly against Chloe's back to get her attention, "I also brought ice cream."

Chloe pulls back and gasps at the sight of the tub of cookie dough hidden behind the translucent grocery bag that swings from Aubrey's right hand, her feet coming off the floor once in excitement as she squeals, "Aahh! You're the best, Bree!"

Aubrey laughs and winks at her, returning the second hug Chloe delivers, before following her into the kitchen, setting the bag and her purse down onto the center island. Her expression slowly morphs back into seriousness as she watches Chloe look for bowls and spoons in her respective cabinets and drawers, "So let me get this straight—you know what I mean, Chloe—you walked over to the house next door, found out that your neighbor has a dog named after the creator of your lady jam, accepted a stranger's invitation for coffee, talked to her about the songs that we sang in Barden, and boom, just like that, you're in love with her?"

The giggle that had escaped her lips at the mention of the word "straight"—she is so not straight, if today had been any indication—is quickly forgotten as Chloe listens to the list that the blonde ticked off her fingers, "I actually went back over there after the exam this afternoon to give her a bag of dog treats for her dog."

Aubrey's jaw drops, shaking her head no when Chloe silently asked her if she wanted any of the ice cream, "What? Why?"

Chloe quirks a brow and waves the scooper dismissively in the air, "Because, Bree, I was a bitch for chewing both her and her dog out for waking me up when they were both just going about their daily lives and minding their own business!"

"That's not your fault," Aubrey grumbles, "They totally deserved it for letting you go sleep deprived on the most important exam of your medical career. I would've held a grudge for at least a week."

Chloe looks at her and Aubrey holds out her hands, "Just saying."

She wrenches the scooper into another glob of ice cream and dumps it into her bowl, "Anyway, I went over there and handed the dog treats over to Beca and then—get this—I find out that she had stopped by my mailbox on her way home from work and figured out that my last name is Beale by going through my mail."

Aubrey gapes, her green eyes going wide with shock and disbelief, "Chloe. That has stalker written all over it. I'm ninety percent sure that that is illegal to some extent."

Chloe turns to open her freezer and stuff the dessert into the first available space, before closing the door and picking up the first spoonful of cookie dough, "Right? Isn't it crazy? I can't believe someone would go into such lengths to find out something as simple as my last name."

"Crazy? It's insane! Someone like that is bound to be part of a gang or something!"

"She's a music producer at Residual Heat." She bites at the chunks of chocolate chips in her mouth and licks her spoon clean, humming at the way the vanilla melts on her tongue and slides down her throat, taking the most of the edge off her nerves at the frightening realization that she is already midair in the fall for the snarky brunette next door.

"You don't know that," Aubrey sniffs, crossing her arms skeptically over her pristine white button up, "Just because she says that she is a music producer doesn't mean that she is one."

Chloe snorts at the lame attempt of her best friend at trying to devalue Beca's credibility, "There's an entire wall in her living room dedicated to an elaborate mural of concert posters and snippets of magazine articles and photos of musical artists, and if that wasn't enough, there's also a huge ass piano and sound system sitting on either side of the tv, as if she couldn't bear to have them anywhere else in the entire house besides the one place where family and friends and guests alike flock to whenever they visit."

Aubrey closes her mouth after a moment in which Chloe suspects she is using to think of any objections or loopholes to that statement and purses her lips.

Chloe stares at her, grinning as she sucks another chunk of chocolate onto her tongue.

Aubrey shakes her head and reaches a hand up to undo her hair, allowing the blonde tresses that Chloe sometimes finds herself admiring to fall out of its neat bun and tumble down her shoulders. "You've always had a big heart and worn it out on your sleeve, Chloe. I just don't want you to get hurt again giving it away to someone who won't take care of it. There's nothing wrong with falling in love with someone fast and hard; I just hope that you know how risky and dangerous it is for you to do so, how there's almost always a downside and balance to everything in life, especially to the feelings involving that of the intense and beautiful love you always seem to give."

Chloe swallows, her stomach churning uncomfortably at the end of the little speech, knowing that her friend is trying to allude to her ex—numerous exes—without naming the specific names, and that her friend is trying to warn her that it's not a good idea to feel so much and get involved so deep with her neighbor when she essentially hadn't even known her until just twelve hours before.

Especially when she has done just that—getting involved with someone before getting to know his/her true colors—and been burned countless times before.

She knew all of this (she's not that blind and self-destructive as to how she can tend to be with love) but hearing it come from Aubrey's lips—the one person with whom she trusts with her entire being to not take advantage of her tendencies to jump right in at the snap of a finger; the one person with whom she has absolutely no doubt will always be there to help her pick up the pieces whenever at times her own parents don't even seem to get her inability to separate emotions from practicality—is a whole other thing entirely.

It is a whole new level; a whole new bullseye of an arrow to home.

It is a pushing of the label of unhealthy into the territories of toxic.

Suddenly losing her appetite, Chloe pushes the bowl of ice cream away from her and wanders over to the window, looking out at the half wall separating her from the side of Beca's house, the faint light from Beca's living room looking like it's miles away as it shines from the other side, and she runs the fingers of her left hand down the arm of her right. The late evening sky that is a companion to six thirty pm feels like a blanket as it covers the roofs of both houses, and Chloe tries not to wonder about how it is that one can feel like a day has just begun while also feeling like that same day is never going to end.

Aubrey comes to stand beside her and puts a hand comfortingly to her shoulder, and Chloe turns her head to give her best friend a sad smile. Before she could say anything to express her thoughts and feelings regarding her speech however, a sudden loud and obnoxious beep echoes through the air, effectively breaking the shaky but warm bubble of peace.

"Becaw! Time to go meet Emily at Glow Sticks!"

Chloe whirls around and presses herself as close as she possibly can to the glass of the windowpane, not caring that she is going to have to clean the smudges off later, and catches sight of a black car pulling up to the front of the house next door, the back of which is just now disappearing around the bend of the half wall.

With a sudden bout of desperation and need to see who the newcomer is, Chloe rips herself from her glued position to the window and hurries to the door, ignoring Aubrey's calls for her to wait and slow down, and throws on a pair of sneakers before practically bursting out the doorway and spilling down the steps, her heart in her throat and her head foggy with panic, and she sprints to the end of the half wall and flattens herself against the side of the brick facing her house, poking her head around the corner just enough for her eyes to see past the bushes and cement pathing the way over to the front of Beca's house.

A relatively handsome guy with short black hair steps around the hood of his car and grins at Beca—who is shaking her head amusedly at him at the edge of the sidewalk, hair braided on one side and dressed head to toe in black—and Chloe frowns as she watches Beca affectionately dodge a hug new guy attempts to give her, gears turning in her brain as the she eyes the way Beca sticks her tongue out when new guy sticks his lip out in a pout.

Beca steps forward and swings herself into the seat of the passenger side of new guy's car, and new guy just laughs and sticks his hands in his pockets as he stalks back around the front towards the driver's side.

The door closes, and then the car is off.

Chloe whips around, almost slamming into Aubrey—whom she hadn't even noticed is now standing just a foot behind her—in her haste to get into action, and she mumbles a quick apology before sidestepping the blonde to continue on her way, "We're going to Glow Sticks, Bree. Now."

"Now? As in now, now?" Her best friend's voice couldn't be more incredulous and confused than as if she had told her she is an alien from outer space.

"Yes," she growls, already making her way back into her house to look for her keys, "Now. As in, right this fucking second."

A/N: ...Please don't scream.

And as always, suggestions, prompts, or requests for more (?!) are always welcome! :))