for Mom, Dad, and Sis; thanks for believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself
the flying hawaiian 001 presents
the guy in the all-girl acapella group pt. ii
chapter one: picking up where we left off
august 14th, 2014
The guitar felt heavy in his hands.
It bore a certain weight that it hadn't before, not even when he first bought it.
He was a younger man then, eyes wide, full of hope for a future he was so certain he'd be able to understand, one he thought he'd be able to adapt to easily. Now, he wasn't so sure. And this reflected in how he held the instrument now. Why, at one point, it felt as light as lifting a pencil.
The lifting came with the spoils of youth, now replaced with the unmistakable weight of adulthood, and the many pains, sacrifices, and hardships that come with all that and more.
He could vividly remember what it was like purchasing the guitar. He'd never felt such freedom before in his life. And now, all he could feel was time. Time as an entity, time as an enigma, always around us but never seen, always on our minds yet never seeming to make much sense, and always at odds with itself. Time would always be there, yet there never seemed to be enough time to do what you want to do.
And even with all this running through his mind, he strummed away at the guitar's strings, and began to play.
once divided, nothing left to subtract
some words once spoken can't be taken back
walks on his own with thoughts he can't help thinking
future's above, but in the past he's slow and sinking
caught a bolt of lightning, cursed the day he let it go
nothingman
nothingman
isn't it something?
nothingman
The moon was full that night. It graced its luminescent shine upon his face as he looked out the window. In the distance, he could see the bright, big lights of the city. He could almost feel the night move over his body, its warmth, the cool, fading summer breeze and the moonlight serving as his guide, his savior. He continued to play.
she once believed
in ever story he had to tell
one day she stiffened, took the other side
empty stares
from each corner of a shared prison cell
one just escapes
one's left inside the well
and he who forgets will be destined to remember
oh, oh, oh
nothingman
nothingman
isn't it something?
nothingman
He took a pause. One of the stairs had creaked. Without a word or a second thought, he put down the guitar. As silently as possible, he reached into a small box he kept on the desk for safekeeping. It felt just as heavy as the guitar, despite being comparably smaller. With a click, he latched it snugly into the holster on his belt. He then made his way through the house. Whatever was making that noise had found refuge in the living room.
He crept past the clock on the wall. It read 1:32. "It's too late for this."
His hands and back were pressed against the wall. To his left and just behind him was the living room. Closing his eyes, breathing in and out, he prepared himself for the worst. After all, that's the risk you take when you become a man, when you become a father. But a man's house is his castle, it shouldn't have to become his fortress.
With both hands clutched tightly onto the gun, he turned the corner, and took aim.
But all he found was the cat hiding behind the couch.
Thomas let out a sigh of relief, putting the gun back into the holster. The cat, Leia, came out from behind the couch, and rubbed her body against his leg. "I bet you're hungry."
After making Leia a bowl of microwavable turkey, he prepared a grilled cheese sandwich for himself.
He was always sure to use three kinds of cheese: cheddar, colby, and provolone. It was also important to toast and butter the bread before adding the cheese, and to cut the sandwich in half to preserve its flavor.
Setting it on a plate with a glass of milk, he took a bite of the sandwich. And the first thing that came to Thomas' mind?
"If Lee were here, he'd love this."
That one thought prompted Thomas to stop chewing. All at once, he felt a rush of second thoughts and doubt flood his mind and his conscience.
"Should I call him? Nah, it's late. But I haven't heard from him in months, and he didn't come back for Christmas, or for the summer either. Is he in some kind of trouble? How much trouble could he get into?"
And the more he lost himself to his own thoughts, the more Thomas realized how silly the whole thing was. He let out a chuckle before continuing to eati his sandwich.
"Oh, who am I kidding? He's fine right now. Probably having the time of his life with his friends. It's what I'd do at his age. Whatever he's up to, he'll be alright. I just know it."
august 21st, 2014
journal entry 1
Are you there, God?
It's me, LP McDaniel. We really need to talk.
Here's the thing: my friends and I have been under A LOT of pressure as of late.
Before last month, life was good. In fact, you could even say that life was great! We were touring the world, seeing sights, and entertaining people wherever we went. Most importantly, we were all having fun.
And then something BAD happened. Tell me something, God: is there any possible chance at redemption after you've made a big mistake? Like, say, accidentally flashing the President, and really all of America, on live TV? Because I'm really hoping that there is.
Of all the times that Amy had to go commando, she chose THAT TIME? Why? She says she's been asking herself the same question and even tweeted an apology at President Obama, but apparently that hasn't been enough to get people off our asses.
This whole last month has been the world crashing down on us at random. So, God, if you can help me and my friends find a solution to our current situation, please shine thy Holy Light upon us. Because as of right now, we are royally, officially and overwhelmingly fucked.
LP closed his laptop with a sigh. He then felt his phone buzz in his pocket. With a quick swipe, he grabbed it out. Over the course of fifteen minutes, his 'sisters in Acapella' had managed to send 79 notifications his way.
"How the hell do they all manage to type so fast?"
After setting his laptop into his backpack, he took a minute to scroll through any new info they were all getting.
Almost nothing surprised him. Most of it was nervous rambling about their meeting with the Dean that day, how badly they had ruined their reputation in the span of one month, and something about a golf course, which Amy had graciously provided.
"Oh, boy. This is gonna be fun."
He got up from his seat, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, and put his headphones over his ears. "When in doubt, block the rest of the world out."
He pressed play on his phone's iTunes. The strum of a guitar rang in his ear.
it's a hard world to get a break in
all the good things have been taken
but girl there are ways to make certain things pay
though I'm dressed in these rags
I'll wear sable someday
As he walked along the campus, his eyes became glued to his phone screen. The messages just kept coming.
Chloe: Everybody be at the Dean's office in ten! We can't miss this.
Beca: we know Chlo. you told us yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and the day before the day before that
CR: me, Jess and Stace are already here. where are u guys?
Ashley: Flo, Lily and I are almost there.
Amy: im with the captains, who decided to stop for a caramel macchiato on the way here
Beca: you're the only one who got coffee Ames
Amy: 'snot my fault they have those fuckin' coffee stands everywhere on campus! it's like they're begging me, daring me to desire them and devour them
Chloe: Guys, stay focused! This is important.
CR: i'm always focused, and i made sure we got here before anyone else did
LP: I'll be there asap. Today's a big day, guys!
The raven-haired boy found himself looking up from his phone screen, eyes focused on everything and anything that was directly ahead of him. "Today is a big day. I just hope it's a good one for us. God knows we could use one of those."
The longer they waited, the more Chloe felt like she was losing whatever remained of her sanity. She, Beca, and Amy had arrived before anyone else had, leaving her with plenty of time to reflect on their current situation. And the more she did, the more she saw no reason to feel any sense of optimism about it.
As Chloe continued to frantically pace back and forth across the waiting room, Beca couldn't help but notice her friend's anxiousness fully coming into play. "Chloe, you don't need to keep going around the room in circles. Being nervous right now isn't gonna do anything for us."
In an instant, Chloe turned around, staring directly at Beca. "Um, I don't know if you noticed this, but our reputation just sank to an all-time low because SOMEBODY decided to go commando on stage."
With that sentiment being made apparent, all eyes were on Amy, finishing the last of her coffee. With a shrug of her shoulders, she said, "It was a last-minute decision. I didn't know that the worst was gonna happen!"
Chloe's right eye started to twitch a little. But before her nervous rant could begin, Beca managed to get in a mutter of, "Oh, for fuck's sake." This, in turn, earned her a quick glare from Chloe. "Aaaannndddd time to shut up."
"Just because you didn't know that the worst was gonna happen doesn't mean you shouldn't have at least, I don't know, put on a pair of underwear. I mean, it's not like we were performing live onstage for all of America to see, including the President and the First Lady. Oh, wait. WE WERE!"
As Chloe continued rambling, Beca saw out of the corner of her eye a man getting dragged in by campus police. He was tall, with striking blue hair and an exhausted expression plastered on his face. "I wonder what he's in for."
"-And another thing, because of this, we probably won't be able to go on tour! We didn't work this hard just to get kicked at the last minute! So, forgive me for being more than a little upset about this!" Chloe shouted, before taking a seat next to Beca in a huff, folding her arms.
"You done?" Beca asked. Chloe let out a loud sigh. "I'm sorry guys. I'm just really stressed about all of this," she said. "Really? We hadn't noticed," CR blurted out, resulting in Chloe hanging her head low, burying her face in her hands.
"Chlo, we get that you're stressed. We all are. This is just as important to us as it is to you," Beca said, trying her best to be sympathetic. Chloe looked up at her. "Do you really mean that?" she asked, as if daring Beca to be completely honest with her.
After a few seconds, Beca managed to utter, "Yeah, of course. You don't need to worry. We'll take care of this. We always do." She put on a smile, hoping that it would dissuade her redheaded friend's fears.
But she could see that Chloe still wasn't so convinced, and her heart sank just a little more.
Then, right at that moment, LP showed up practically ramming through the door. Beca thought it a miracle that he didn't break off the hinges. "Hey, guys! I'm so sorry that I'm running late, I got caught up with something, but I hope I didn't miss the meeting! I'm not that late, right?", he asked in between breaths. The others could tell he'd been running.
"You're not late, Mac. We haven't even been called in yet.", Beca said. As if on cue, the dean's receptionist came out of his office. "The dean is ready to see you tramps." She remarked in a dry, condescending tone. To say it didn't boost morale for the Bellas would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, LP looked to them all with a smile on his face, and said, "Guess it's showtime, guys." As they all got up, their was a collective feeling of nervousness and tension in the room, and all of them knew it. "Come on, guys. Let's pick ourselves up a little! We're gonna go in there, and we're gonna figure this out. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?" Beca asked as they entered the office.
"YOU'RE CANCELLING OUR TOUR?!" Chloe shouted. All at once, hell appeared to break loose amidst the all-girl (plus one guy) acapella group. Without prompting, all of them began to protest. Unfortunately for them, what they didn't realize is that their rambling was so incoherent, Dean Wallace could hardly register what one of them was trying to say, let alone all of them.
He took one look at this hearty band of misfits, and another at John and Gail, both with a look on their face that screamed 'we really flew out here to deal with these idiots?' So, he reached into a cabinet on the left side of his desk, pulled out a horn, and blew it very loudly.
The sound caused collective panic within the group (Lily even jumped into Stacie's arms 'bridal style'). "Are you going to be quiet?", Wallace questioned them as if he were talking to a group of kindergartners. They nodded their heads.
Then, with a somewhat satisfied smirk on his face, the Dean set down his horn, and said, "That's better. Now, back on topic, as of today, your tour is cancelled effective immediately. If you wish to perform anywhere, that's on your own accord, scheduling, and funding."
Chloe felt like she was about to faint. Or at least throw up. Is this how Aubrey felt? It had to have been. Never mind that, though. This was real. And it was happening. And to all of them, but especially Chloe, it sucked the big one.
"But we have a big show coming up in two weeks! What happened with Amy was a mistake! She's said a thousand times that she's sorry!" LP stammered, anxiously turning over to Amy, who, almost instinctively, said, "Very sorry sir, Dean Wallace sir."
"You can't just leave us out in the dust like this! This is our last year together as a group, we can't let it end like this," LP continued, to which Dean Wallace exhaled. "Look, I understand that this is hard to accept. But the damage done by this little incident of yours is too much to overlook or fix. And on top of that, it seems that your next show will be taken by an opposing acapella group. I'm sorry, but there's nothing more that can be done."
Beca folded her arms, unconvinced that there was nothing that could be done. "What about the group that we're going up against?" She asked. "What about them?" John responded, his exasperated tone matching the expression worn upon his face.
"I mean, if we're gonna be having our concert taken away, I'd like a little info on who's replacing us." Beca said, arms still crossed.
Gail looked to John, who in turn looked to Wallace, who shrugged his shoulders. "Don't look at me, she was asking you two."
In the next room over, the man with blue hair sat in a chair, arm resting and hand upon his chin. He was bored, and the officer getting in his face and in his business knew he was bored. "Are you even fucking listening to me? Day one, and you're already at risk of suspension! Hell, you might even get expelled, and that's if I'm feeling lucky," the officer shouted.
The man sighed, and said, "Damn, that's crazy." He knew the officer's patience, whatever small measure he may have had, was running thin. "Do I really need to spell it out for you? We can make this easy if you cooperate and actually listen to anything that I've been saying, or you can make this harder for yourself, and I can make your time here a living hell. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"
He then looked up at the officer, a smirk on his face. "Crystal clear, el capitán de los cerdos."
The officer had enough. He gritted his teeth, pulling out his handcuffs and latching the man within them. But before he could get an opportunity to go any further with his use for them, a female officer came in, halting him immediately. "That's enough, Kurschner. I'll take it from here. The Dean wants to see this one next."
The man looked from the female officer to Officer Kurschner, his enjoyment growing second by second. "But Callahan, he's a delinquent and I-"
"I don't particularly care what you think of him right now. What matters is that he's needed in the room over. Is that clear?" Officer Callahan interrupted. Kurschner tried to speak, but words and mouth didn't feel like connecting at that moment for him.
So, he unlocked the cuffs, grumbling while the man said, with a smirk, "Easy on the merchandise, officer. I don't wanna walk out with bruised hands."
All Officer Kurschner could do was glare at him as the cuffs were removed, and the man walked away with Officer Callahan, who led him out of the room.
"So, let me get this right. You want to take on this group from Germany in a competition viewed by several countries around the world?" John asked. "And you're also going to do it without any funding from Barden University?" Gail continued, both looking incredulous as Beca nodded her head.
Then, the two looked at each other, then back at the almost all-girl acapella group, then back at each other, and instantly began laughing hysterically.
At the same time, the gang all looked at one another, slowly realizing just how much of a tall order Beca had placed upon them.
As their laughter dissipated, John and Gail looked to the Bellas. "Do you realize just what you're getting yourselves into? This isn't Lincoln Center, girls." The former asked condescendingly. "Dude, I'm a dude." LP remarked, to which John muttered, "Whatever."
"The point stands: you just don't have what it takes. These are serious, professional groups, and, no offense, but none of you are serious or professional. And even if you were, you still wouldn't be able to win. Case closed." Gail said.
There was a notable silence in the room. None of the Bellas knew what else there was to say or do, if there was anything that could be said or done. Then, LP McDaniel spoke up.
"And what if we do win?"
The three adults looked to one another. None of them were sure how to answer his question. Even John was almost impressed by his audacity.
Nevertheless, he kept his normal attitude, and remarked, "If you all want to try this, you're welcome to. It's your funeral."
LP looked to Beca and Chloe, smiling confidently. He then turned his attention to Dean Wallace. "All due respect sir, but I think that we have a shot at this. And I'm certain that my friends think so too."
Dean Wallace opened his mouth to speak, but unfortunately for him, the door opened right as he was about to.
And in walked Officer Callahan and the man with blue hair. Immediately, Chloe cried out "You?!". He responded in kind with, "You?!"
Luckily for all who're confused (yourselves included), Amy butted in with, "Wait, who the hell is this guy?"
author's note
so, I'm back, I guess. don't really know where to begin, or what to say. guess I should say I'm sorry that I was gone so long, especially if you've been waiting on this since, God, how long has it been since I announced this, over three years ago? yeah, let's just say that a combination of college, depression, and a pandemic are the absolute worst fucking combo I've ever experienced personally, and they are a real motherfucker to work through. would say that I'm fine, but that wouldn't be me being honest. really wanted to make this sooner, but every time I did, I got afraid that nobody would read it, or even care. yet, I've found that sometimes, the hardest points in your life are the points where doing anything just to take your mind off of where you are, what you're thinking about, can really save your life in a lot of ways. so, for those who've stuck around since the beginning, thanks for coming back, I'm eternally grateful for your support. and for those who are new, welcome. normally, I'd recommend reading the first fic, but if you clicked on this one for any particular reason, you probably know these movies better than I do and can just follow along with this. let us see where the road takes us, shall we?