"Are you excited about being here?"

"In your office? Oh absolutely. More than you can imagine." Beca crossed her legs and smirked at the woman across the room.

With a chuckle, the older woman doodled on her notepad. "Funny." She looked up at Beca with a twinkle in her eye. "You're funny." This was Beca's first meeting with her new therapist - one Gwen Curtis. All of Beca's caregivers had signed off on the cross-country move, but they stressed that no matter what, a new therapist had to be established right away. Beca didn't mind; she understood that she may need help handling all of the changes in her life. And "call me Gwen" had been pleasant thus far.

"I've been in a lot of therapists' offices. Trust me. This has to be one of the nicest." Beca gestured around the room - lined with bookcases stuffed with books, framed photos, and a multitude of glass shapes and waves - and leaned forward, raising her eyebrows. "Lots of windows and no parents."

"HA!" Gwen barked out a laugh. "Like I said - funny!" She connected with Beca's eyes. "I meant are you excited to be starting school? Being at Barden?"

Was she excited? Yes… and no. Terrified. Does that count as excited? It probably falls under the excited heading. This was the first time she had set foot on a campus since … that day. It felt nothing like her high school, which she enjoyed. It was almost like a big park with buildings. She had already found several places where she could decompress. Not her dorm room - what with her weird ass roommate Kimmy Jin with her judging looks and sighs.

"Yeahhhh, I kind of am." She shrugged.

Gwen considered Beca's long silence and short response, knowing there was more swirling in the girl's head. "Whatabout?"

Beca exhaled heavily. "Umm … it is nice to not be … always that girl." She looked up uncertainly. "You know?" Gwen looked kindly at her, hoping to encourage more feedback. "With … what happened … people always … like … treated me differently." She began getting more animated, moving her hands to punctuate points. "Some people would treat me like I was fragile. Try to be super gentle with me. Others would avoid me because, like … I guess it made them awkward. Remembering what happened." Beca leaned back against the sofa. "Nobody here knows," she finished softly. Silence weighed heavily on the room, which bothered her. She liked silence, definitely liked silence. But not after she had talked so much about … things … though. Awkward… To break the tension, she rubbed her hands on the couch. Some kind of solid material, but fuzzy like a peach. Probably a cafe or a pebble color in the catalog. "This is really nice material. Suede?"

"Microfiber," Gwen responded without a beat.

Beca nodded. "Smart. Easier to clean."

Gwen studied her for a moment. Beca's full files had come from Portland in preparation for her arrival, so Gwen was fully aware of all that had transpired. How did this kid still function? Traumatic experiences like what she had gone through have destroyed burly men three times her size. Yet this petite … basically child … was sitting in this office about to start on a new adventure. She was heavy with the experiences of life. There was a darkness about her, only amplified by her dark eye shadow, ear piercings, black jeans, and flannel shirt. Clearly trying to project a harder exterior than she probably had. But Gwen, even in the short meeting, knew that Beca didn't want to live in the shadows forever. There was a desire now to hide out, to find safety in the bubble built around her. But there also was something more, a dim light of hope that snuck through the armor plating. Gwen admired Beca and her strength in trying. And Gwen desperately wanted to help her succeed.

After a few quiet moments, Gwen spoke up. "I can see the allure of that." Beca sat silently, staring a hole in geometric pattern on the carpet. "But remember that this is part of your story. A big part." Beca raised her eyes while keeping her head bowed, as if to say "Yeah. I'm well aware." Gwen smiled. "I know you know that. But when the time comes, don't be afraid to let someone in." Beca's eyes returned to particular black square on the carpet. "Maybe not everyone, but the right person … it may help you."

Beca leaned back and looked at the ceiling, roughly rubbing her hands on her jeans. "Yeah… I know…."

After a quick glance at the clock, Gwen smiled and closed her notebook. "Well, I've harassed you long enough." Beca started to open her mouth in protest, but Gwen lifted her hand and grinned. "It's a beautiful day outside. You should go out and enjoy it." Both women stood up and Beca headed for the door. Gwen lightly patted Beca's shoulder. "I'll see you next week? Same time?"

Beca nodded and quietly replied, "Yep. It's on my schedule."

"Great! I can't wait to hear how your first week goes," Gwen warmly answered. As Beca headed down the hallway, Gwen called to her. "Beca?" When the girl turned, the older woman offered, "Try to find something to do. Something fun? That you can get involved in? You deserve to have a place like that." Beca nodded and resumed walking.

The stroll across campus was pleasant enough. Georgia in the summer can feel like Satan's armpit, especially down south in the swamps near the Florida border. Atlanta itself, with its mass of concrete and metal, was more just HOT. Even the frequent afternoon storms didn't cool things off - they just brought more humidity. Barden was far enough outside of Atlanta and its hefty collection of suburbs that it still contained actual trees and green spaces. Before noon, before the fireball of torment was fully in the sky, there was a small window where the campus was actually nice to walk across. That's the only good thing about having the weekly therapy session so early: the long walk across campus wasn't completely miserable.

Beca always had to process when she came out of sessions. The events of the past year had completely flipped her life upside down. No, that isn't accurate. They had destroyed her life. Like the hurricanes that Georgians feared each summer, The Incident and all that followed had flattened everything. She had spent months trying to rebuild. The temptation was to just try to copy the way things used to be, to rebuild using old blueprints. Through all of the time spent on couches in various therapists' office, Beca had realized that she didn't need to do that, though. She was grateful for that awakening but not sure about how to go about doing that. Currently, her plan was to re-examine everything to see what she wanted to include and what she wasn't going to hang onto. She was done always trying to put on a happy front. Some days she just wasn't happy. That should be okay. She knew music would still be a featured element of her life, but she didn't know if she would ever want to perform again - too many confusing thoughts on that for now. And so Beca kept deciding what she felt about each component of life: entertainment, social issues, sexuality. And sometimes she was surprised at what she uncovered.

Her thoughts were disrupted by the commotion coming from the green beside her. She looked over to see what was going on. A large banner flapped in the breeze reading Barden University Activities Fair. Beca rolled her eyes, thinking of Gwen's advice. How conveeeenient. Part of her wanted to just keep walking on back to her dorm. A BIG part of her. She could come back later, if she decided that she wanted to actually get involved - which she wasn't sure about yet. She hesitated for a bit, wrestling internally. The crowd would probably get larger as the day went along. Crowds. Ugh. Right now the area was busy, but not super congested. Beca sighed and decided to at least stroll through. Maybe there would be something interesting.

She was surprised at the number of groups represented on the green. The Barden Newspaper. Dudes with Ponytails. Running Around in Circles. Wait, what? Beca spotted her roommate Kimmy Jin at the Korean Student Association booth. One booth advertised DJs. Beca's heart raced a bit, thinking about how that might be a good idea. She was quickly disappointed when she realized it was a club for "Deaf Jews. A Club For The Hearing Impaired Children of Israel." She chuckled and shook her head: she hadn't expected that one. As she kept walking, she found her path blocked by a bright yellow flyer. The flyer was being held by a tanned arm that was attached to a smiling woman.

"Hi! Any interest in auditioning for our a capella group?

Beca pulled back a bit to try to read the paper. Then she studied the person holding it. She was breathtaking. Red hair, huge smile, and blue eyes. Very blue eyes. Very bright blue eyes that seemed to capture Beca in their tractor beam. Beca blinked a couple of times and sized up the blonde next to the redhead. Also very pretty. No huge smile. Looked like she kind of wanted Beca to die. "A capella. Oh right, this is a thing now."

The redhead lit up more - if that was possible - at Beca's recognition. "Totes. We sing covers of songs but do it without any instruments." She took a breath and continued, "It all comes from our mouths!"

Beca was a bit uncomfortable at the exuberance. And the somewhat suggestive words. What about the word mouth generated such a strange response. Like it brought to mind things being done with a mouth. Kind of the opposite of moist, which always kind of made Beca want to gag. "Wow."

The girl seemed to take Beca's continued presence and lack of response as a sign of interest. "There are four groups on campus. The Bellas. That's us. We're the tits." Beca shuddered again. That's another image loaded word. The girl then began pointing at different booths in the vicinity. "The BU Harmonics... GIRLS, including Barb, give back rubs to GUYS who don't know they're gay yet. The High Notes…." Beca shifted her attention to the indicated group of Shaggy from Scooby Doo looking weirdos. They were laughing a ton and falling over. Beca looked back at her tour guide as she continued talking. "They're, um, not particularly motivated." Beca raised her eyebrows and grimaced in agreement. "And then there's — the BU Treblemakers." The girl rolled her eyes as the group burst into song. Wankers.

After a few seconds, Beca grabbed the flier. Then the girl grabbeds her arm suddenly. "Hey! I have a tattoo!" She was studying a small skull wearing headphones with "XV" on its forehead on Beca's wrist.

Beca stared down at the hand clutching her. "Oh yeah?"

The hand's owner nodded and lowered her voice, like she was sharing a secret. "I sorta went through a punk phase. I was listening to a lot of Evanescence."

Beca smirked to herself, never being able to picture this sunny redhead with the blue blue tractor beam eyes as a punk lover. "O...kay."

Somewhat desperately, the redhead asked, "So are you interested?"

Beca looked at the flyer and back at the girl. She also glanced over at the blonde, who was looking impatient and irritated. Strike One: that blonde seems like a shrew. Strike Two: Performing. Not happening. Strike Three: These people are dorks. "I don't know. Seems pretty lame."

That did it. The blonde stepped up, looming over Beca's small frame. "Aca-scuse me? Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart topper is not lame." Beca's eyes went wide at the intensity of the retort.

The redhead scowled at the blonde, thinking she still had a chance with Beca. "We sing all over the world and compete in national championships."

Beca laughed out loud. "On purpose?"

The blonde was fuming now. "We played the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center you bitch!"

Beca moved her hands downward, like she was trying to calm a small child. "Settle."

Exasperated, the redhead glared at her friend and turned back to Beca. "What Aubrey means to say is that we're a close-knit, talented group of ladies whose dream is to return to the national finals at Lincoln Center this year. Help us turn our dreams into a reality?"

The pleading look in her eyes pierced Beca. The girl seemed cool - a little crazy and handsy - but cool. But her friend was a nut job. "Sorry, I'm not really a singer so... It was nice meeting you." Beca backed away and then resumed her walk through the fair. She caught sight of a sign for Campus Radio Station. Now that seemed like something that could work. The thought of being able to be involved with music, but not be out in front of people? That might fit into the new construction that Beca was in the midst of. She signed up on the mostly empty sheet. Only one other name was above hers: "Jesse Swanson." Beca nodded to herself, thinking that she may have a good chance at getting picked.