A/N: If you read the previous 2 chapters, then congrats. You read over 20,000 words already. XD I swear, ALL chapters will be about 10,000 words (without author's note). Check out my one-shot, "Hands Off My Chocolate."
CHAPTER 3
"We don't meet people by accident. They are meant to cross our path for a reason."
Chloe is a dreamer. She enjoys letting her thoughts roam and daydream like floating on a cloud that carries her to her little mental island. That island, which allows her to be at peace within herself, welcomes any forms of imagination. All her aspirations, desires, and wildest fantasies are written down on post-it notes and affixed to a thread that runs through the cherry blossoms. Because she loves the color pink, this is her favorite tree species. Cherry blossom trees continue to bloom throughout the year on this island amid the ocean.
Her favorite thing on that island is to gaze at the azure horizon, the boundless sky, and the ships passing by. Her only means of escape from this location is a tiny boat secured to a post at the island's base. Seagulls can be seen flying through the air like snowflakes falling from the sky, and some of them have even landed on the boulder that is located on the island. Chloe is cheerfully tending to their needs by providing food.
This island's image, however, has been skewed recently. Chloe hears a voice calling from a distance and immediately knows it as the... girl's voice from the showers. It's like a distinct sound, like a siren. Like the mythical creature that entices with its charming melodies and singing voices, Chloe is set to sail to that creature, willing to risk capsizing her little boat to reach it. Her willingness to jeopardize her own life isn't a concern to her. She must track out that individual.
And she eventually will…
*,*,*
Chloe believes in the power of destiny and the concept of a soulmate. Assuming that a perfect partner has been predetermined for you is such a cliché belief that it almost defies explanation. And even though she is in a relationship now, Chloe does not consider Tom her true soulmate.
Yes, she loves him, and her heartbeat quickens whenever she is with him. But he's not The One. He doesn't cut it. However, even though she does not want to believe in soulmates, she does believe in them. In the same way that someone might deny believing in ghosts while simultaneously being terrified when they "see appearances." She believes that the notion of soulmates could be true.
In addition to the routine activities of her day-to-day life, such as attending classes, spending time with Tom, having ladies' nights, rehearsing, and going to parties, Chloe would instinctively listen for that unique voice in her setting. The moment she heard any song performed by one of the other a cappella groups or any person with a singing voice who passed her while singing, her ears would immediately perk up. Just to discover, to her own chagrin, that it wasn't the one.
Chloe rarely went to the communal shower stalls on campus unless it was necessary and urgent. That is when, one day, as fate would have it, both bathrooms at the Bellas House were continuously occupied by the girls, and she needed to shower before meeting up with Tom. Thus, she went there.
She grabs her toiletry bag with her grooming supplies, a large towel and bathrobe slung over an arm and heads to the shower stalls. She undresses in the changing room, which is currently occupied by women dressing up or blow-drying their hair. A couple of other girls are in the shower room, chatting about music on top charts and popular boy bands.
Without pausing for reflection, Chloe enters a vacant shower stall while the other women continue their conversation in the individual cubicles. She leaves the water to run as she applies shaving cream on her legs and then lets it sit for a little before moving on to shaving. She asks Tom in a text message where they should meet, notifying him that she would be ready in an hour. As soon as she sees it is almost 6:00 p.m. on her phone, she tosses it in her robe pocket and hurries up quickly.
Another girl enters the showers and occupies another stall not so far from where Chloe is; she hears the water starts gushing shortly after. Chloe doesn't pay much attention as she takes her razor and starts shaving.
In the meantime, the other two females have left, but there's water still gushing in the other corner. Chloe continues her routine, which includes rinsing the shaving cream off her legs, applying shampoo to her damp hair, and lathering up with shower gel. She's becoming hungry and planning what she'll eat later, but she feels bad since she's more looking forward to eating than seeing her boyfriend—on their anniversary, no less. Does that make her a terrible girlfriend?
She perks up her ears and listens attentively because she can make out the meager outlines of a tune resonating through the waterfall.
'– I would be your girl
We keep all our promises
Be us against the world.'
The water from the occupied stall comes to a halt, and Chloe freezes on the spot while smiling when she recognizes the song by Katy Perry. Only recently, during their Bellas' Party, she had listened to it while engaging in a drunken dance-off with Fat Amy.
And something else strikes her senses as she realizes that it's that voice again, which is strong enough to cut through the rushing water and grab her attention. That voice that had impacted Chloe, the same one that had not let her sleep at night in the past few weeks. And she dismisses how the lyrics strike her like electricity, down her spine and to the pit of her stomach.
She turns off the water and listens to the singing. The song fills the entire room and leaves goosebumps on Chloe's skin.
'In another life
I would make you stay,'
However, she can't step out of the shower at this time since she's all lathered up and has soap in her eyes; thus, she must have to rinse it all off first. The realization that this is the only chance she has caused her heart to race as she hurriedly taps on the shower to rinse off the lather from her body—the only chance of learning the vocalist's identity.
'So, I don't have to say
The one that got away–'
As she walks past Chloe's stall, the young woman's voice rises with confidence as it reaches the chorus, belting out and hitting higher notes that sound comfortable to her. However, there is no time to evaluate the girl's vocal quality right now. After a couple of heartbeats, the door swings open and falls shut again.
Chloe scrambles to get her towel and dashes outside; her body still drenched with water. To her chagrin, there are also other girls in the corridor with damp hair who seem to have just showered; however, from what Chloe can deduce, none of them have sung their way out of the bathroom as they are engaged in a casual conversation with one another. They are looking at Chloe with looks that can best be described as puzzled and bewildered.
"Did you just see the one that came outside?" the one that got away, she jokes to herself as she approaches the girls, out of breath. She gestures with her hands towards the changing room, and with her other hand, she's holding her towel around her chest. "She was, um, singing. And, maybe you noticed her?"
The two young women stare at one other and exchange amused glances. But one of the girls says, "The only girl who just left headed that direction." She gestures idly down the corridor's numerous doorways, some of which may not directly lead to other dorm rooms but which Chloe is familiar with because she lived here before in her first year. The little study area is accessible through the first door, the second to the restrooms, another to the laundry room, the basement through another, and the communal kitchens through the last door. Just off to the right is a set of stairs that lead up to the girls' dormitories.
Chloe looks down the corridor and walks quickly, and her dripping body creates a trail of water on the first few steps as she lingers for a second at the base of the stairs. Ultimately, she decides to explore the various rooms first. She opens each door and takes a short peek inside, but other than the students who are now using the rooms and common areas, she doesn't notice anyone who sticks out. Chloe ignores the catcalls, whistling sounds, and nods of encouragement from the males. She is pressed for time and cannot lash out at them. The fact that she is looking for a female vocalist is the only piece of information she has at her disposal.
Think… freshly showered, a girl. Who looks like a singer? Gosh, what does a singer even look like? But Chloe does know that the shower singer has the richest, darkest singing voice range, vibrant, even an excellent vocal texture and timbre—she could be classified as a contralto or mezzo-soprano.
After that, Chloe has the dawning realization that the girl probably would not immediately go to the library or the study area directly after she had finished showering. Perhaps she would return to her room, where she would discard her grooming supplies and her dirty laundry. Or anything similar to that. Gosh, Chloe, you're so clever…
Hence, she decides to take the stairs to the dorm rooms.
Still holding onto her towel around her torso, Chloe runs with lightning speed up the staircase, not caring that she might slip on the puddle she'd left at the base of the stairs earlier. She thinks pathetically that she'd rather have a broken skull than not find that girl. She feels stupid that she seems to be running after a shadow. But she has to find her.
As Chloe walks down the hall, she runs into another young woman, a brunette with a pigtail who is lugging a cardboard box full of books. Chloe can tell from the girl's voice as she's calling for another girl that she isn't the one Chloe is searching for since her voice isn't quite right, and her hair is greasy. On the other hand, the voice used for singing does have a distinct tone from the one used for talking. However, her gut feeling tells her this is not the shower singer.
Just as she gets close to the first landing, Chloe runs into a group of males, presumably sophomores. They nudge each other to point at a drenched, naked Chloe, who is wearing nothing but a towel around herself. As Chloe continues on her way, she gives a frustrated eye roll. At long last, she recognizes the person walking behind the last guy.
Beca, this cute rock chick, is galloping down the stairs. After she looks up from her phone in hand, Beca throws her a perplexed look—because who runs around naked and dripping wet through the hallways wearing just a towel around their body?!—but says nothing. Then, before she stares back at her phone, Chloe could've sworn that the sneaky smile that appeared on the brunette's lips was meant for Chloe. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and this action reveals several different pairs of piercings.
When Chloe sees Beca descending the stairs, it seems time is moving very slowly, so she pauses and stares. She has a wild, odd, and incomprehensible temptation to approach Beca and ask her whether she had been the one singing in the showers. However, after noticing that Beca does not have damp hair, she disregards the possibility and stops paying more attention to her. However, she takes note of the fruity shampoo the other girl is using.
After Chloe has sprinted past Beca, she stops in the next corridor to check both ways. Nobody sticks out in an unusual way; maybe the girl has already disappeared in her dorm room. The more time passes, the less impetus Chloe has to continue her search for her, who seems to have vanished into thin air. And she will definitely not knock at every dorm room to look for the girl.
Chloe speculates that the girl could not have walked so quickly because coming from the showers is often a leisurely stroll for most people. In addition, Chloe did not spend a significant amount of time searching through the previous rooms. As she carefully considers her thoughts, the floor's atmosphere falls into complete silence. It seems that right now, no one is using the stairways going to the top levels, where the first-year Bellas had their dormitories before. Only a handful of students stroll by, chatting, carrying stuff, primarily bags, phones, or books tucked under their arms.
Has she only been imagining it?
She inhales a long and deep breath. What she's doing is crazy, especially considering that she has a date right now. To hunt for the "shower singer" in this building, particularly with Chloe wearing just a towel and in this state, she ultimately concludes that she would rather not want to meet her. Not now, at least. Chloe would terrify her, at which point she would consider Chloe to be utterly insane. And it is something that she categorically does not desire.
Because, after all, she wants to leave a great first impression.
A moment later, she returns to the shower cubicles to collect her stuff. Back at the Bellas residence, when she has finished getting dressed and blow-drying her hair, she sends a text to Tom informing him that she is on her way.
*,*,*
Her boyfriend let Chloe decide where she'd like to go for their first-anniversary dinner date that evening, and she took him up on it. Thus, she decided to go to MODESTO, an excellent restaurant just an hour's drive from campus.
Chloe couldn't place what was wrong with the uncomfortable silence that pervaded the duration of the drive or the evening with him, in general. Tom had been as kind and considerate as he always was, and the fact that he had maintained a gentle hold on Chloe's hand spoke much about his character.
Even in the restaurant, Chloe's thoughts were not entirely on Tom but something else. She had been thinking about the rehearsals, as well as how to encourage the Bellas, and she had momentarily considered persuading Aubrey that they should be more spontaneous and open the group up to exploring new things.
However, Chloe does not want to engage in conflict under any circumstances. It is imperative that she, Aubrey, and everyone else get along well.
She likes being peaceful.
And then there had been that moment when she was fretting about her doctor's diagnosis from earlier that week when she realized that the vocal nodules were the source of her chronic sore throat.
Since they are still relatively small, they do not need treatment just yet. However, in time they will get bigger. Her vocal cords require some rest, as her doctor instructed her to do for the time being. But how should she handle it, given that she performs a cappella? She is not going to tell anybody about it just yet, not even the Bellas and Tom, for that matter.
The next thing she knew, Tom had been talking about his football team, sharing football anecdotes and current family events, and she again lost focus. Chloe had merely looked around the establishment at the other patrons, many of whom she recognized from campus. She had noticed groups of friends consisting of individuals of varying ages, families, and some couples.
Her attention had also caught two women, in particular, sitting at the bar. In contrast to the hesitant demeanor shown by the blonde woman, the brunette exuded an air of confidence. They had appeared to be close friends until the brunette leaned in and kissed her partner on the lips.
This is what true love looks like, Chloe had pondered. When Chloe and Tom first started dating, she felt she had this expression on her face whenever she looked at him.
True love doesn't get boring.
Love, to Chloe, is staring into her partner's eyes while the rest of the world vanishes around her as if nothing else exists any longer.
Also, as a fan of vocal skills, Chloe highly regards singers with strong voices. Because of this, for her, it is the excitement of hearing your partner's voice and experiencing a tingling sensation spread through your whole body.
Since when did Tom's voice cease to excite her?
For the past several days, Chloe has been pondering the identity of the mysterious singer who keeps belting out in the showers. And why can't she seem to find her? If Chloe had to time their encounter to meet her, what would Chloe do when she did at long last have the chance to meet her? Would she talk to her?
Of course, she would.
"By the way, my parents are planning a family vacation this spring break," Tom had said during their meal, "so I won't probably be around then. It'll be our last family vacation together before I graduate. Hope you're not mad?"
"Yes, sure," Chloe had instantly answered, even though the significance of his statement had not registered with her.
Because at that exact moment, Chloe had had her first conscious thought about Beca.
And Chloe is not even familiar with her on a personal level.
She had been pondering the question of what type of a person lies under that mask, beneath that heavy mascara, that stern demeanor, and without those piercings. Or, if she has any tattoos, though, most certainly. Beca gives off the distinct impression of being the sort of rock star/hipster chick who would be tatted.
"You're not mad, babe?" Tom had never been able to read her mind, read her facial expression, or sense her feelings. There's no emotional connection between them.
He doesn't know that she isn't happy anymore.
On the other hand, the length of time that people spend together is not the factor that decides how intimately they are connected. Because Chloe has feelings of a sort of closeness toward a particular person she barely knows, these feelings are inexplicable from any other angle.
Recently, Chloe got the unmistakable feeling that she was no longer functioning on a timescale that was even remotely plausible. It is as if she had traveled beyond time and space to arrive in Beca's realm from another dimension, where she had a more profound connection with her.
Which is just… weird.
Take this picture: For an instant, Chloe's first encounter with Beca in the hallways when she was engaged in a tense dispute with her father. At that time, Chloe had just seen Beca for the very first time. The instant in which Chloe experienced an irresistible pull toward her without even being aware of it. And how else could Chloe explain the sensation she experienced when encountering Beca by the abandoned pool? And how could all those visions of her at the bottom of the empty pool just be imagined? That moment when Beca had turned away, it seemed as if it was ripping her soul apart and forcing it to split in two different directions.
And also, there's a peculiar sense that she knows Beca Mitchell has, in fact, tattoos on her body—not just the tiny ones on her more usually exposed forearms. That Chloe has seen them for sure. All of them. Indicating that she is familiar with the brunette's body.
Without wearing any clothing.
Chloe felt her blood rush to her head at the thought when she pondered that.
Chloe's strongest intuition informs her that she does know Beca, and the proof is that she has an equalizer bar tattoo on the middle of her back. This burning of familiarity in Chloe's spine concerning a seemingly random feature of a stranger is akin to foretelling the future.
The question now is: what will Chloe do with this information if she's right? This is sort of like a profound connection that she feels for Beca that it seems to surpass linear time. That would suggest that when she met Beca, she felt like she'd known her before.
Similar to meeting your soulmate.
Tom had remained completely clueless during their date and throughout their talk, even though it had been one-sided.
Because Chloe knows that he loves her, she knows that he is unable to recognize her imperfections because of his love for her.
Even if this had been her first time not being nearly as talkative as she usually is. It's possible that he'd even find it refreshing to switch things up a little and chat about himself while they're out on their date.
She indeed does not merit him.
Chloe is oblivious that they have already left the restaurant and are now making their way back to Tom's vehicle. She is standing in the parking lot in front of, she assumes, Tom's car, as she is adjusting her bra through her dress by pulling it up while she stares at her reflection in the glass of the car side door. The streetlamp above provides her with just enough light. At the same time, she is running her tongue over her teeth.
"Babe?" Tom's voice comes from far away.
Chloe casts her gaze toward the area where he is presumed to be standing, which is on the driver's side of the vehicle. But he's standing in front of an entirely different car.
"What's the matter, Chloe?" Tom asks. It seems as if he is both worried and amused at the same time. "Why are you all over the place?"
Chloe jerks back as the tinted window wind down to show a teenage boy with glasses. He flashes a broad smile from ear to ear before winking at her. Chloe, startled, dashes back to Tom as her face begins to glow.
"Sorry, I got distracted," Chloe says, biting the corner of her lower lip and smiling. She reaches up to kiss him. "Let's head back then?"
An excruciating silence stretches between them, and after another moment, Tom speaks again. "Babe, what's wrong? You kinda seem like not yourself lately."
"Hm? Just what exactly do you mean?" Chloe is transfixed by the cityscape as she watches it change before her eyes as she gazes out the window. Even though she is aware of his implication, she tries to steer clear of the topic.
"Come on, talk to me. You didn't say a word the whole evening."
So, he had been aware of her mental preoccupation the whole time they were eating together; nevertheless, he did not remark on it, nor did he confront her about it. Because, most likely, he wanted to avoid creating a fuss and maybe spoiling their date in the process. She owes him an explanation.
"Tom," Chloe murmurs. She twiddles the rings on her fingers and thumb and lowers her gaze to her lap while releasing a slow and audible sigh. The question is, what approach will she use going forward? Her most recent thoughts are so absurd that she is at a loss for words while attempting to articulate them. On the other hand, she has enough faith in him to be sure that he will pay attention to what she has to say, take her seriously, and treat her with respect. She has to get this off her chest right now. "Are there moments when you feel something is missing in your life?"
"I have you," Tom returns with a brusque response, though his voice is gentle, while simultaneously turning down the level of the radio to give her his undivided attention. He draws to a close by stating, "So, nothing is missing in my life." Chloe puts on a grin, but she's not feeling it. He's sweet, which mostly made her fall in love with him in the first place. After that, he lets out a nervous little chuckle of laughter. "In what way, though? Like a purpose? Or more of material nature? Or like a partner?
"Maybe something like that," Chloe breathes, clutching her hands into fists on her lap. "Like a partner."
"And you feel I'm not enough for you?"
"No, I mean…" she says tersely, "God, no, not like that. I don't know, to be honest. But–" Chloe inhales deeply, then releases her breath through her parted lips, "–please don't think I'm weird, but, um..."
"Chlo, I already think you're weird; that's why I love you, right?" She looks at his handsome profile and sees him smirking, that boyish smirk she loves so much about him. "So, what is it?"
She's smiling. "Do you believe in parallel universes?" There, it's out now; her insanity laid bare before her.
The only sounds that are getting through to her are the humming of the tires, the droning of the engine, the whistling of the side mirrors in the wind, and the throbbing sound of her heartbeat. When the next light turns red, Tom stops the car and turns to her, seeming puzzled. Perhaps he had been expecting something else altogether. Then he asks, with a softening of his demeanor, "And that's what you've been thinking about the whole evening?"
"No, I mean... yes…." Chloe has no idea why tears are stinging behind her eyelids, but she blinks them away quickly. Her emotions overwhelm her. "This might be beyond my ability to convey, Tom, but I want to be honest with you. I've had these weird dreams that feel intense. In those dreams, I'm in another universe; I'm living a different kind of life, but it's the same. It's like looking through a window and seeing an alternate version of myself." Chloe takes a long breath, barely realizing that they are driving again. She continues, "I'm suddenly that different Chloe-version. I can feel everything she feels, minus her memories. And there's this compelling bond I have with someone. It's confusing to describe, but do you understand what I'm trying to say?" After that, Chloe touches her face and then places her hand over her mouth. She sounds like a nutcase. Because the instant she utters those words, she realizes how ridiculous and stupid they sound.
"Okay," Tom says slowly, raising an eyebrow, "what did you drink tonight? Because I'm sure you only got one glass of wine."
Chloe looks outside, feeling emotionally drained. Even though she trusts Tom not to make fun of her emotions, this is still a topic that would easily label her as psychotic or mental. "Ah, never mind," she says, shaking her head, "I'm sorry. Forget I talked about it."
But then Tom says, after turning the next intersection, "And in that dream, do you love me… or someone else?"
Chloe doesn't realize when she's suddenly holding her breath, feeling blindsided. She doesn't respond at once. Her silence is also an answer.
Tom scratches his chin, chuckling to himself. "I knew that something was off today. I just didn't see this one coming," he then continues somewhat hesitantly, "but to be honest, this is a very creative way to break up."
"I wasn't breaking up, Tom," Chloe states, though she says it without any conviction in her voice, without the energy to justify herself, "I just feel creeped out because of those dreams. The feelings I have in them linger even after waking up."
"Perhaps you're overwhelmed by being the new captain of a choir group with a best friend slash co-captain who undermines you." Tom gives her a sideways glance as he says this. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it once. Then his hands are both on the steering wheel again. "On the other hand, they could just be dreams."
Chloe shakes her head and closes her eyes. "I've never had these kinds of dreams before," she whispers, "They seem so real. Like I'm really there."
They've reached the campus' parking lot, and Tom is looking for an empty spot, driving in circles to find one. As he's doing this, he asks, "And what do you want to do now?"
"Do you believe in it, though?" Chloe asks, disregarding his question, "That those parallel universes exist?"
"To be honest?" Tom shrugs and hesitates, "No, there is no such thing. It's just something that happens in movies and books for entertainment." He parks the car and turns off the engine, staring through the windshield to look at the nearby buildings. "Like, here I am, perplexed that I could be picking up on emotions from my other self that have no bearing on my current existence. I mean, that's sort of creepy."
Chloe is at a loss for words over how to respond to it. Indeed, it gives off a sinister vibe. But, on the other hand, this is merely her idea of the inner turmoil that she experiences. She hasn't yet determined whether that is, in fact, the case.
"You're a dreamer," is the next thing he says to Chloe. She smiles sadly and nods. He had parked his car close to his dormitory. "You go through the world with a different kind of mindset. You love differently. You believe in happily-ever-afters. Why put yourself through unnecessary stress by ruminating about 'what-ifs' and 'could-haves'? If you believe that your dreams could be telling you something, then go for it. You wouldn't be able to love me after this, anyway, Chloe." He pauses before taking her hand in his, not looking at her. "If you need this break to find out what you want, go ahead. Maybe you do need it." He shrugs nonchalantly as though he's not affected at all. "Staying in an unhappy relationship doesn't do us any good. When you look back on anything and have regrets, it is no use to do it."
She feels her tears running, dripping on her lap, but she's smiling sadly, nonetheless. Of course, she doesn't want to leave him, but he's right… if she's not happy anymore, then it's not fair to him. Chloe leans towards him, kissing him on his lips. "I'll always love you. You know that, right?"
He's smirking now, though it's evident in his hazel-brown eyes that he is deeply hurt. He squeezes her hand and kisses her forehead.
"Of course," he replies, "anyway, happy anniversary, babe."
*,*,*
Chloe assured Tom that she would be all right walking back to the Bellas' House alone, despite Tom's eagerness to accompany her. As a result of their breakup—on their first anniversary, nonetheless—she realized what a jerk she'd been. She left Tom in the parking lot, thinking she needed time alone to sort things out, feeling that maybe she also lacked the energy to tell her friends about the breakup right now. Thus, she needs time to think.
Talking with Aubrey about it doesn't feel right to her either. It is almost certain that Aubrey will kill her just because she left Tom, who is such a good man.
She needs time to sort out her feelings because she just ended a relationship. Tom's capacity for compassion has earned him her undying love, and she is grateful for everything he has done. But it wasn't right or fair to him if she wasn't giving it her all.
She has no idea that her legs are dragging her across campus, past dormitories, the canteen, and the park, and further up along the way, where it leads to a hidden path. Nobody is here. Now that it's dark, she uses her phone's flashlight to find her way. She's sauntering along the path that leads there, oblivious to her surroundings.
Until she finds herself standing in front of the deserted pool again.
She looks around her and discovers the ladder is perched again against the wall, visible through branches and shrubbery. As she slowly climbs up the ladder, she wonders if anyone has been there. Or if someone may have accidentally left behind the ladder.
Chloe feels a strange heavyweight descending her spine and engulfing her entire body, luring her forward like a puppet on strings. She feels like someone is tugging at the invisible strands strung around her limbs and her very soul.
She is concluding that perhaps the peculiar sensation she is experiencing is her guilty conscience making itself known to her. A feeling of guilt for having hurt Tom. She suddenly has second thoughts and is now questioning whether she did the right thing in breaking up with Tom.
She wonders what the heck is wrong with her, ending a perfectly wonderful relationship with a kind and caring man. And precisely for what? Because she might experience sentiments of desire toward a person she hasn't met or even knows? She feels like such a fool.
And then there are moments again where her mind sways to that certain someone who could be missing from her life.
However, Chloe's thoughts suddenly come to a standstill. The fact that she might be "attracted" to the shower singer's voice doesn't necessarily indicate that she's attracted to the person sexually. Maybe some admiration? Because Chloe admires singers that not only have the ability to sing but also have voices that can move her emotionally. She admires the vocal abilities of the entire Bella family. She just loves a good singing voice that moves her on all levels of her being.
And then, there's Beca.
Chloe feels as if she has a deeper connection with her. Because how else could those memories of Beca be?
Despite this, it's tough to see how it compares to her love for Tom—suggesting that he isn't a substantial enough part of her life to keep loving him.
Even though she tries not to, Chloe can't help but cry as she drops down on the narrowed wall and cradles herself. She can't stop trembling, and the feeling of numbness in her legs prompts her to hunch her body forward. To think she hurt Tom in pursuing a "possible soulmate" is beyond her comprehension. Irrational as it may sound, she should not have given up the one she has always relied on, the one who has always made her happy, the one who has loved her more than she could ever dream.
Who exists…
In a fleeting moment, Chloe considers returning to Tom, telling him that she's been acting entirely irrationally. It's just been a tough week. She'd been under constant emotional pressure. He'd understand.
However, just as she is about to get up, she hears someone singing, and it's not just anybody singing. It's someone she recognizes. It's that unmistakable voice.
'...heart
Beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave?'
The empty pool's acoustics amplify the sound quality of that person's singing, making it seem even more powerful and distinctive. The sound reverberates throughout the swimming pool's atrium. It has a lovely tone, like the middle notes of a cello.
Chloe notices an immediate change in her pulse, which she compares to a dove flapping its wings. As she stands up to investigate the noise, her ears perk up as she searches for its origin. A closer inspection reveals that the sound is not emanating from the bottom of the pool but rather from behind one of the concrete limestone columns at the far end of the building. So, she kicks off her shoes and down the next ladder to the pool's edge, only to put them back on once she's safely on the ground.
She recognizes the song almost instantly. It's "A Thousand Years - by Christina Perri," and the lines of the verse are being sung as Chloe, again, feels her feet drag her toward the source. Her high-heels click-clacking on the concrete—certainly, the singer would hear that, but the girl doesn't stop singing.
She relishes how the vocals sound like the faint exquisite music of a dream, and Chloe doesn't want to wake up until she finds out who is singing so beautifully.
She makes quick strides towards the columns that line the perimeter of the pool and makes her way toward the rear. With each new heartbeat, the volume of the song increases.
'How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone?
There's a column where Chloe stands, hiding in the shadows as she feels this mysterious singer singing the soundtracks to her thoughts. The vocals, by now, sound closer, as if they were just right around the corner. Which they are. This is the closest Chloe will get to her. The weight of the world is on her feet, rooting her on the spot.
'All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow
One step closer…'
As it is, the girl continues to sing. And then Chloe dares to take one more step.
And like flying, brightly colored butterflies from a vast meadow, the chorus fills the air with the killer acoustics that this empty pool provides...
'I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you,'
The moment Chloe sees that profile, she instantly recognizes it. Those headphones draped over that dark-brown, wavy shoulder-length hair, and that pale, stern-appearing face—though it does look at peace now somehow, relaxed. She has her laptop stretched out on her lap, crossed-legged, while her left-hand glides effortlessly and alternately across the laptop's keypads. Her face is illuminated by the light that comes straight from the screen, which beams in her direction.
"Beca?" Chloe mouths, but no sound leaves her. However, Beca looks to her right, as though she's heard, to where Chloe is standing beside the column with her mouth agape at the brunette. Beca, although looking slightly startled, finishes the last lines of the verse without missing the note.
'For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more.'
And then she shrieks in horror like a delayed dramatic reaction, her hand clutched to her chest. She removes her headphones when she yells at Chloe. "What the fuck, dude? Why are you creeping up on me?"
At that very instant, Chloe understands that Beca was the one who had been singing in the shower stalls. Her initial instinct was right. She had been drawn to the same person from the start.
It would be the same as falling in love with Clark Kent and Superman and then discovering they're the same person. Except that Chloe is not in love with this young woman.
Chloe takes a cautious step forward, saying dumbly as she's slowly regaining her voice, "So, you can sing?"
Beca rolls her eyes at her, clearly having no patience seeing Chloe, or anyone else in general, right now.
"I never said I can't."
Which is basically true. She never denied it. Well, in fact, Chloe never exchanged more than a few words with the brunette. Beca gives an indolent shrug, turning her head away and back on her laptop. "Look, I'm trying to work. And I was hoping to have some privacy."
"I, um, I won't disturb you," Chloe says hoarsely, not attempting to budge from her spot, heart racing. She will definitely not leave now, not after searching for weeks for this woman—like she'd been searching her whole life for her. Not that she would; she just can't. She leans against the column beside her as her legs go slightly numb.
She still cannot believe that she has mentally left her peaceful island and sailed to the sea to find the mythical creature that has lured her with its beautiful voice. Except that this creature isn't a creature, but Beca Mitchell. "You can sing really beautifully," Chloe blurts out without thinking; her overwhelming emotions speak for her. Because her mind has gone blank.
Chloe watches as Beca's face turns again towards her, an eyebrow raised, and the corner of her lips twitches into a slight smirk. "Thank... you? I guess," she says uncertainly. She shrugs her shoulders and looks away again.
"You were the one who was singing in der showers, right?" Chloe holds her breath, her eyes focused on every reaction Beca makes, every movement, not wanting to miss anything. She senses that her presence is unwelcome as Beca wants to be left alone. And she's vainly trying to fill the silence, making their interaction last, keep the ball rolling….
"How am I supposed to know whom you encounter in the showers? Almost every second weirdo on campus bursts out singing," Beca says mockingly while adjusting the bracelets on her left wrist, seemingly to give her hands something to do. "Why? Are you going to tell me you've been following me since then?"
Chloe flinches at that, feeling taken aback by the assumption. "Um, no. I just heard you from over there." She gestures toward the ladder where she came from, and Beca follows her gaze, "and then I came over here. And I heard you once in the showers, of course, when you sang, Titanium."
Beca gives a single nod to indicate that she accepts this explanation, but she does not seem interested in continuing this interaction between them. Chloe feels her heart drop. This girl is not easy by any stretch of the imagination.
"Beca," she finally says, speaking the name out loud this time. Beca turns her head, responding with a slight tilt of her head that should indicate her curiosity. "May I ask a question?"
"So, you won't back off?" Beca gives an audible grunt as she grumbles to signify her exasperation, then throws her arms in the air in frustration. After making a few keystrokes on her laptop, she shuts it down and then takes up her phone from where it was sitting on the ground next to her.
"No, wait," Chloe says, taking a deep breath, "This might seem creepy, but…."
Beca tucks her laptop back in its bag, then rises to her feet. She dusts her jeans off, looking expectantly at Chloe. "You're already being a creep," she remarks, "dude, you've been stalking me since the showers."
"No, I told you I've just heard you singing back there."
Beca is glaring at her with piercing eyes. It's intimidating. And for some sick reason, also adorable.
Chloe pulls her gaze down and rubs her elbow as she experiences a sudden onset of nervousness. She believes it's the same nervousness you get when first meeting your crush. Your usual confidence wavers, you become shy, or your usually eloquent self gets tongue-tied when they're around. She's never felt like a blithering idiot in front of someone before, and yet, here she is. That Chloe is behaving so awkwardly in front of Beca should be giving her some cues, but why is this even happening? Is this like having a "girl crush" because she heard Beca sing and she'd been fantasizing about the brunette recently? Every time she stares back up at Beca, her heartbeat quickens to such a degree that it prevents her from behaving in her usual manner.
However, she's not nervous for the reason that she believes.
She's not crushing on another woman.
The reason for this is that she wants to ask a question that would either confirm or deny her intuition. That she feels she knows Beca from a past or different life… How curious that may sound.
"It's not like it blew my mind and left me speechless in any way," Chloe continues to fill the silence between them. She is surprised at how effortlessly she can mitigate Beca's musical aptitude without stuttering even once, but she can feel the heat raising in the apples of her cheeks. Even though she does not personally know Beca, she has the distinct impression that Beca reflects a negative view of her own worth. Beca doesn't seem to be the kind to fish for compliments, particularly from people she doesn't know. Once they become friends— which is something Chloe is confident is inevitable—Chloe vows that she will lavish compliments on her at any opportunity. But right now, she says, "I mean, you're not that bad. It could be better."
"Dude, you literally told me earlier that I sing beautifully," Beca retorts mockingly, frowning as she watches Chloe intently. Chloe feels her cheeks getting warmer still. "However," Beca firmly adds, "I am not interested in hearing your assessment of my singing ability."
Beca moves to turn and leave, but then Chloe calls after her. "Beca, wait." How is she even supposed to ask this without coming across as a freak? "This will sound totes random," but in this aspect, she is impatient since she is unsure when she will next get the opportunity to be alone with Beca to ask this question. And maybe the next time they were in a public place, Beca might report her for harassment. "But tell me, please, do you have tattoos on the middle part of your back?"
"What?"
Chloe takes a deep breath, then exhales. Slowly. Evenly. She asks, "Yes, you know, like an equalizer bar?"
Silence.
It seems as if the question had a weighty effect on Beca, almost as if a bolt of lightning struck her, scorching her until she was all ashes. It takes a little while before she responds, "Okay, how and why?"
Once again, she is faced with this conundrum. Chloe is debating whether it is suitable for her to reveal her "insanity" because clearly she's gone insane, to someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a total stranger concerning her intuition on a particular body ink of Beca. And she doesn't want Beca to be put off by her creepiness in any way. Somewhere deep inside, she wants to be truthful, however. Therefore, she makes the decision to only reveal part of the truth. At least for now.
"Um, well, I feel like I know you, but I'm not quite sure," Chloe starts airily, dropping her eyes to her feet and twiddling the ring on her thumb, "and something is telling me that I'll only figure out that it's really you, is that tattoo." She presses her lips together and throws Beca fleeting glances as if not wanting to scare her away by staring longer at her than it's necessary. Beca's impenetrable eyes and inscrutable countenance give little away. "Told you it's totes random," she adds quickly, chuckling. She drops her gaze again and counts to ten, anticipating for Beca to either give her an answer or flee.
The shuffling of clothes and footsteps are approaching, moving toward Chloe. And then she sees Beca's legs and sneakers in her line of sight. She doesn't dare to lift her gaze to see the expression on Beca's face. Thus, she brushes at her dress, fiddling with it to give her hands something to do, to seem less threatening, even flicking an invisible lint that she definitely doesn't see because it's dimly lit around.
Because she already knows that Beca's thinking she's such a creepy person, maybe even a scopophiliac, someone who derives sexual pleasure from watching nude bodies—a peeping tom? Because Chloe's knowledge of this may rest just on having caught Beca unclothed in the shower stalls, right? Chloe is readying herself to get ridiculed or get pepper sprayed, so she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. She would deserve it.
"And what do you mean you feel like you know me?" Beca asks instead and looks up at Chloe, voice passive, unsure what to do with the situation.
"I can't really explain."
"Then, too bad," Beca drawls, "I cannot answer that question."
"I'll leave right away if you answer me." Chloe gives a forced smile, trying to bargain to get at least something out of it. Even a tiny nod would suffice. There's a long pause while Beca searches Chloe's eyes, maybe to confirm that she's serious. "Please? And then you can resume watching porn here," Chloe says with a coy smirk, winking.
"I wasn't watching po–" Beca seems to be fighting off a smile. And this is how Chloe knows she broke the ice; that's how she knows she had her. She sees Beca's hard, impenetrable exterior crumbling. But the next instant, the brunette shakes her head to get her demeanor in check as she clears her throat. Hardness returns. "God, fuck it if you don't want to leave," she retorts and shrugs as she turns around again, "Then I'll leave."
"Beca, please, just answer. And I'll never again harass you." Chloe reaches for Beca's arm, at which the brunette jerks and shrugs her grip off. The way Chloe's acting right now is so desperate; it's as if her life depended on the outcome. Would it suggest that the pull she feels towards the brunette, that she may be her soulmate? She'd initially considered this before. And this thought is crossing her mind again. And it's still preposterous, though.
She tells herself that, in fact, soulmates don't have to be romantically involved in being considered such. One of the Bellas is, in fact, her soulmate, which is also purely platonic.
"You're so annoying," Beca tells her, glaring at Chloe, "and it's freaking me out."
The slightly shorter woman grunts and shakes her head. She appears to be anchored on the spot, even though she occasionally flicks her gaze in the opposite direction, toward the nearest exit of the atrium, as if she were considering dashing for it—but she is unable to. In a state of conflict, she can't help but fixate her eyes again on Chloe's, who only wants to know this one simple, utterly random question directed at a stranger.
The hairs on the back of Chloe's neck are standing on end as a result of the electrifying tension between them. But, coincidentally, it's Beca who reaches back and runs her palm over her own neck. She nods once and exhales.
"All right. And you will leave me alone then?" She then pauses, emotions flashing across her face like the sweeping of sun-rent clouds over the otherwise peaceful countryside. As she backs away, the muscles in her shoulders tense up. Her left hand is gripping the strap of her laptop bag, which is over one shoulder, as tightly as possible, imparting the sense that she is desperately trying to hold on to it for dear life.
After two heartbeats, Chloe smiles and nods eagerly in agreement, extending her pinky finger toward Beca to seal her promise. Beca looks at her finger with an amused though suppressed, smile. Chloe feels like an idiot; what did she even expect? She's slowly withdrawing her arm and bringing it to her back. And behind her back, Chloe crosses her index and middle finger, smirking sneakily.
Which would invalidate the promise, right? she ponders, feeling childish.
Though hesitantly, Beca confirms Chloe's speculation. "I, um, have one." The way she says it is barely above a whisper, but she's said it. She reaches behind her back as if her tattoo were there to be felt. "It's a small equalizer bar tatts and right where you guessed it. Congrats on guessing it right." She fixes her gaze squarely on Chloe, one corner of her lips twitching into a sneer. "The fact that you know this is freaking me out." She then pulls her brows together, indicating bewilderment and confusion at the same time. She moves the hand on her back into the back pocket of her jeans.
"Can you explain how you know? Not even my roommate knows because I never run around naked like some people," she says while looking Chloe up and down in an attempt to elicit a response. After running into each other on the stairs in the late afternoon today, when Chloe was just wearing a towel, Chloe is aware of what Beca is insinuating. It's safe to assume that Beca would immediately take flight if she found out that Chloe was chasing after her. "Except, maybe that one dude I've dated once," she rambles on as if merely thinking aloud, gesturing aimlessly as she continues her monologue, "but still, I'm not a nudist, like, I tell people to look at my nice cool tatts especially the one on my back, and–"
She scratches her forehead thoughtfully in an out-of-character moment of reflection and disconnection from her façade persona, and freezes.
She clears her throat and is suddenly all stern-looking again. Defensive. Vigilant.
"Beca," says Chloe softly, with a shake of her head, marinating the sound of her name in her mouth. "I didn't see it." Which earns her another raised eyebrow. "I just knew."
"Dude, that doesn't even make any sense." Beca shrieks in frustration, accompanied by a roll of her eyes and a sideways sneer at Chloe. "Are you a psychic or something? Or are you just some kind of creepy voyeur whenever I shower?"
There it is. Chloe was right that Beca would be thinking this!
"No," she chuckles and, again, shakes her head in amusement. Chloe could use her only weapon, which she knows knocks people out; she might try if it could knock Beca out. Give the brunette something to be worried about—by being flirtatious. "And no. It's–" she pauses dramatically while biting the bottom of her lip and gazing down coyly, a hand brushing a curl behind her ear, then she cocks her head to the side and looks back up at Beca, "–my little secret," she emphasizes with a wink.
Beca seems somewhat flustered as her eyes widen, blinking rapidly as if dazed.
Oh my God! It worked?! Holy…
Feeling smug, Chloe then turns around and walks off. As a result of the unexpected turn of events, she has just gained the upper hand in this intimidating circumstance, and as a result, she is feeling relieved. It is not that Beca is frightening; rather, it is what Chloe's emotions are doing to her that is terrifying. Chloe is overjoyed that she can finally return to being herself again. And she's especially pleased about Beca's revelation.
Beca, as expected or more or less hoped, follows her.
"Seriously, dude?"
As Chloe looks over her shoulder, she continues to chuckle at Beca's perplexed expression. They make their way around the pool's perimeter, stopping by the ladder.
"Where are you going?" Beca calls.
Chloe carefully makes her way up the ladder because, you know, it's not easy with high-heels, and calls to Beca, "I told you I'd leave you alone if you answer me, right? So, I'm leaving."
She is taking this step in the hopes of gaining clarity on two separate facets of the matter:
First, if Chloe were to withdraw herself from Beca physically, would the magnetic attraction still be there?
Second, if what Chloe has described as an electrifying tension between them earlier was more than just Chloe's imagination, and if it was felt mutually, then Beca would come after her.
And to Chloe's own surprise, Beca climbs up the ladder, and follows her. "I know what you're doing, so stop it."
"What am I doing?" she laughs.
"Putting me in suspense and then just leaving," Beca scolds her with an irritated frown, "like a dumb cliffhanger."
Chloe turns her head to Beca. The shorter girl's face looks ashen under the moonlight, pale like porcelain. And the more she tries to look angry, the more she looks endearing.
Chloe stares up the path that recedes in the shrubbery and shadows. The Bellas' House and the dormitories are just a few minutes away from one another in opposite directions along the path. Chloe turns around and down the empty pool, then back at Beca.
Suddenly, a peculiar feeling begins to permeate her from the inside out. It's as if she's sinking into warm quicksand, but she doesn't feel the dread that typically accompanies that experience. Because so long as you remain still, you won't sink any farther. That's what Chloe is doing now: she doesn't move when she looks back at Beca.
Chloe thinks about the riff-off brunette woman she had seen in one of her vivid daydreams while her gaze is traveling across Beca's facial features, her stern yet confused look, those dark eyes that slightly widen. At the same time, she thinks about Beca's singing voice from wherever they came and how it has moved and pulled on Chloe like a magnetic force field.
"Have you ever sang in a riff-off challenge before?" she asks, without skipping a beat.
"A riff-what?"
"A riff-off challenge," Chloe repeats slowly, clearly, "it's when a cappella groups compete by singing songs based on the category previously chosen. And there are a couple of other rules."
"Dude, I'm not even in an a cappella group," Beca says like it's that obvious. "It's only for nerds, and it's pretty lame." The way she says it is quite mocking, like inciting Chloe for a reaction again. But then again, this Becamight not know that Chloe's a choir vocalist. Beca doesn't even know her name as they've never officially introduced each other.
"You think so?" Chloe challenges, lifting a corner of her lips, head held high, "because a cappella singing entails keeping pitch and harmonizing with other members' singing voices," she says, taunting Beca as she's gesturing nonchalantly with her hand. "I don't think that's something you're capable of."
"I'm, wait, what?" Beca exclaims as she crosses her arms in defense. "How would YOU know that? Can YOU even sing? Oh, wait a sec," Beca arches an eyebrow, a half-smirk on her lips as if a sudden realization has just hit her, "I know you're a Bella. Jesse told me about you freaks! And it's just pretty lame."
Jesse definitely didn't tell her that we, The Bellas, are freaks, right? Because that would make him a freak, too. Maybe Beca means a cappella members as being freaks in general. No, she's not taking this personally.
"A-ca-scuse me? We're not lame!" Chloe chortles, acting petulant, but she can't refrain from smiling as she can't believe that she's having this conversation with Beca. Chloe then also mimics the brunette's body language by crossing her arms. But unlike Beca, Chloe's over the moon about this subject because it's her passion. "We sing covers of songs, but we do it without any instruments…" then her smile turns into an even wider grin, a finger gesturing at her lips, "it's all from our mouths."
"Yikes."
In that instant, a startling breeze of cold air hits them, and Chloe feels a sudden wave of a déjà-vu-like experience jolt within her—though as insubstantial as smoke—after those words have been exchanged. Again, the feeling is similar to that of unearthing a deep-buried memory. She looks to Beca, who appears just how Chloe is feeling—startled.
And it's like curtains from behind those dark blue eyes that swing aside, and recognition fills the center stage of her mind. As though Beca is feeling it, too.
This former familiarity between them.
When Chloe blinks, the entire magic is suddenly gone, evaporating like smoke into the sky. And for an odd moment that Chloe can't seem to explain, Beca stares up as though she's watching the trail of the magic spell dissipate into the pitch-black night sky.
But she is only looking up at the sky as it's suddenly starting to rain as she's holding out her open palm, tiny drops of water pouring down, turning the air frigid.
Chloe holds her breath.
"I should head back," Beca says after a long pause, "but it was nice talking to you, nerd."
Chloe watches as Beca throws a last fleeting glance over her shoulder at her before she climbs down the other ladder and continues to walk up the path that leads into the bushes and darkness.
She doesn't look back again.
A/N: It would be really nice if you left at least "Kudos" or "Keep going." This story is really hard to write. As of now, I've written up to 23 chapters (each one of the same length and quality. :)
Thanks for the favorites/liking it. Check out this story's tumblr: chiquelle. I will post images there that will be relevant in later chapters.