A/N: This year marks the tenth anniversary of the release of Pitch Perfect (Sep. 28th 2022). YAY!
A/N: PLEASE READ: For the story's purposes, the complete ownership of a sorority home has been given to the Bellas from the novel's start. When an a cappella ensemble has a long and fruitful career, they are entitled to a lucrative privilege that comes with that status. Chloe and Aubrey have taken over as the new captains of The Bellas after their predecessors, the senior Bellas, achieved victory several times and, thus, could hand over the house to the new Bellas. However, they must maintain their current success level to afford this lifestyle. Otherwise, if they cannot be successful and, thus, are unable to afford the higher rent, their only other option is to return to living in dormitories. Weird rules, I know. ;)
This first chapter is written from Chloe's POV, thus Beca may seem out of character because the two of them don't know each other yet.
Disclaimer: The Pitch Perfect franchise doesn't belong to me.
CHAPTER 1
Chloe heaves a sigh of near-perfect contentment as strong arms wrap around her waist and draw her close. Steamy water cascading over their naked bodies, she finds comfort in her partner's arms, in which she has come to enjoy being cradled and carried about when they are both feeling silly and intoxicated with love.
Leaning into him, Chloe's face is resting on the well-defined muscles of his chest—he's been playing football since his first year. His lips graze her shoulder, which causes the spot to tingle. Chloe giggles as his arms climb up her sides, and she turns to look into his eyes, which are a deeper shade of hazel, reflecting his intense desire for her. Smiling, she cranes her head further back and stands on her tiptoes so that she can kiss him, relishing the sensation of his tongue in her mouth.
Aside from the obvious reasons that showering with a partner improves the bonding process, increases intimacy, and acts as an exciting foreplay to lovemaking, Chloe finds it relaxing and fun to be this close together. It makes her comfortable in her skin and generally relieves her stress. Thus, she undertakes this activity very often.
And from an official standpoint, they do not violate any of the school's policies, as long as they don't get caught. You know, just as the notion that one can commit a crime and get away with it as long as they don't get caught? Yeah… But on the other hand, the university has no policies prohibiting students from showering with their significant others. So, Chloe must take extra precautions because they are using the women-only showers, and other women have reported seeing guys here. And since Chloe had already been caught with an ex-boyfriend in the past, she doesn't want that incident to happen again with Tom. Because if she gets caught again, they will both be in serious trouble, and Aubrey will most certainly be furious and disappointed.
"Chloe, we're in our senior year now. And from now on, we'll be leading The Barden Bellas as its captains," Aubrey had told her when they started their last year in college. "And we are required to uphold a perfect representation of a Bella."
"I know, I'm sorry, I–"
"Get your act together, damn it, and stop acting like a fool."
This should have been the first sign of a red flag for Chloe that something was awry, that Aubrey was starting to change, the beginning of when she was getting this anxious. The first sign that Aubrey is becoming different. But Chloe ignored her intuition because she loved Aubrey.
It's been less than 24 hours since the activities fair, and Chloe already wants to forget it. Remove all traces of the humiliation from her mind, then force herself to crawl out of her skin and perish. A third option is to join her best friend in Guatemala, in southern Mexico, and start a new life there as a rice cultivating farmer.
"Hijo de puta! I will kill them!" Flo had said when they had last video-called each other, with a furious countenance and in the utmost seriousness. "I'd do anything to help you, Chlo; you need to toughen up." With her Spanish accent, there's much nasal quality when she speaks and so much temperament. "That helped me out since my seven brothers and I had to sell ponchos every day to some rather rough-looking cowboys with a penchant for oversized mustaches if we wanted to put food on the table."
"Flo–" Chloe had given her an inquisitive glance before rolling her eyes and trying her best to stifle a giggle, "I visited you just last year…."
"So, you know the deplorable conditions that I am forced to endure here to survive," Flo said, looking affronted. "I remember a day when I had to crochet 50 ponchos amid a heat wave with only one glass of water."
"Flo, your father, is an architect, and your mother a renowned pediatrician. We swam in your pool together last year. I can literally see that pool behind you."
"I'm just saying if I were at Barden now, I'd kick those people's asses who are messing with you," Flo had told her.
"Thank you, Flo." Chloe brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye, at the same time thinking how Florencia, who was only 5' ft in height, kicked the butts of people twice her size. Despite this, Chloe trusted Florencia to do that and appreciated the thought. "I love you."
"I love you, too, honey; I will see you soon."
Chloe and her best friend, Aubrey Posen, have recently taken over as leaders of the Barden Bellas and are worried that no one is interested in joining the club. Everyone's memory of The Bellas' most recent performance, which took place four months ago, is still highly vivid. It's undoubtedly related to the group's difficulty in finding new members to join. Aubrey's projectile vomiting at the audience can be found everywhere on YouTube.
And because of that, The Bellas are the laughingstock of the a cappella community. This is why Chloe is trying to ignore things for the time being, even as her anxiety and stress continue to build in response to the possibility that The Bellas would eventually disband in the event that they are unable to find new people.
Because in light of the ICCA Final's vast number of competing acts, how likely would a duo of just sopranos win?
And even if they have enough members, would that suffice for them to compete and win the ICCA Finals next year?
The only chance they will have left is the audition, which will take place this Friday. This is their final and only chance to recruit enough people to meet their requirements.
The water ripples on their bodies as she leans toward her tall, attractive boyfriend, causing her to shudder at his gentle touch to her sides and wonder why his lips below her earlobe don't cause the same sensation. It's not just Tom; she's always been unresponsive when being kissed at her ear. She doesn't understand why most women find these ear kisses so delightful when she, herself, has zero sensation there. Tom had understood that her erogenous zones were not at the base of her ear or her earlobe but along the delicate skin of her shoulders.
He lathers her back up with the soap and then softly massages her. Chloe turns off the water while she uses Tom's shampoo to experiment with a Mohawk style for his hair, giggling playfully when he makes funny faces.
As she hugs him, she says in a hushed voice and arches her head slightly, smiling at him, "We need to be quiet."
Regardless, she feels a shiver down her spine that she cannot describe, and it is not because of the reason that she feels it should be. Seconds later, she hears the door open, then a dull thud a little later as the door falls closed behind someone. Consequently, Chloe has to put forth a concerted effort, along with her boyfriend, to remain quiet while another person passes by their stall. The whole room suddenly becomes devoid of any audible sound except for the footsteps of the person's flip-flops on the tiles.
She puts two fingers on Tom's lips in a gentle way to hush him, and she can feel him smiling against her fingers.
That other person—a woman—is humming a melody softly as she occupies one of the shower stalls farther away from theirs. Chloe gives the unknown intruder an eye roll, realizing they must be exceptionally discreet now, which ruins the whole fun.
The other noises divert Chloe's attention, so Tom takes advantage of that by squeezing her butt, which causes Chloe to squeal and jump in response. Swatting his arm, she covers her mouth with her hand and listens closely to the bright sound of the splashing water echoing off the tile from that occupied stall. As the water continues to pour, that girl does not seem to have heard anything. In the background, Chloe can hear plastic bottles, most likely her shower supplies, being placed on the shelf while water continues to pour out.
"Be quiet," he tells her with a sly smirk, his voice deep with want, "you're really hot, you know? The things I'd like to do you, babe…."
It's difficult for Chloe to take his attempt at seduction seriously while he still has the lathery Mohawk hairstyle, so she almost laughs when she realizes that he hasn't changed it. She is leaning against him and losing herself in the process. Her heart is throbbing so fast.
Tom is one of a kind, and of all the guys she has dated in the past—not that she had dated many—he is the only one who has ever made her this happy. He is always extremely kind, sweet, and understanding, which is his many endearing qualities.
As soon as the water flow in the adjacent shower stall comes to an abrupt stop moments later, Chloe takes a deep breath, runs her hands along Tom's back, and makes a conscious effort not to make any noise while the other woman is getting ready to leave. While stifling a giggle, Chloe clutches his arms and tries to prevent them from sliding over her while also keeping them from touching her rear. Because she knows that as soon as he touches her, there is no way she will be able to restrain herself from making noises. Her hands travel down the length of his ripped arms and rest on his biceps before finally stopping.
The girl outside is humming a soft rendition of a song that Chloe is familiar with, and as a result, her grin falters momentarily as she listens closely—it's a melody that Chloe knows by heart. Among many other songs, it's her lady jam, when alone and "buttering her muffin," or when making love to her partner to "water up her lady garden," she thinks amusedly and chuckles at the euphemisms she's come up with. So, naturally, it has Pavlov's conditioned response on her, leading her to experience a heat wave.
But also, it's as if a spark had been lit somewhere in the unfathomable abyss of her mind, bringing to the surface a deep-buried memory. But it's not just the song per se—it's the voice causing this.
The melody starts as little more than a somewhat louder humming, but after a while, it flows into a quiet singing that gradually grows louder as it builds up to the chorus. Chloe is feeling all sorts of emotions but guilt—that it's not because of her boyfriend she's feeling this new kind of thrill racing through her body.
"You shout it out
But I can't hear a word you say
I'm talking loud, not saying much…"
In response, Chloe stops what she's doing to pay attention to the singing woman. She gradually turns her head in the direction of the song that lies beyond the shower curtain.
She smiles. The woman's singing resembles the first bluebells of spring, the midnight radiance of a bonfire, the first autumn foliage, or the first snowfall to gently touch your palm. It resembles the smell of freshly mown grass that lingers in the air after it has rained. And the feelings you get when you experience all this.
From a musical standpoint, Chloe realizes that the woman's natural tone is also smooth, pleasant, and more rounded, which would also make her an excellent candidate for singing soft ballads. Her vocal range extends from the lower middle range all the way up to the higher notes, and she can switch between timbres and textures with ease. It sounds amazing.
"I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet
Shoot me down, but I get up,
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away…"
This stranger is singing the verse of "Titanium" with a dulcet voice, hitting every pitch perfectly while grabbing garments, possibly her towel and bathrobe, and her care products, which shows that singing comes naturally to her, like it requires not much effort.
As Chloe turns around completely, she can hear the squeaking sound of damp flip-flops making their way past her cubicle on the checkered tiles. Even when Tom kisses her shoulder from behind her and puts his hands on her hips, she is only half paying attention. Barely hears it as he leans close to her ear and mumbles, "I love you," before gently kissing her right below her earlobe. Again, she disregards how unresponsive she is at that spot. It's not because she does not love him; on the contrary, she loves him a lot. What else may be causing her heart to beat at such a rapid pace?
"Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away…."
And suddenly, that voice ricochets off the surrounding walls, striking Chloe hard in the chest, with the tremendous acoustics of the space amplifying the sound and reverberating in Chloe's ears.
When viewed through the lens of hindsight, one might say that this precise moment was comparable to being shot by Cupid's arrow.
But Chloe is too captivated to think about anything else. A singing voice that sounded powerful and impressive in equal measure had never mesmerized her before. Ever.
Chloe is on the verge of tearing the shower curtain open to see the face of the person who is singing so beautifully. Clutching at the curtain, she exhales a deep, ragged sigh—and ultimately decides against it. It's almost as if she's trying to pluck that voice out of the air to cradle it in her chest like it's a tangible object. However, if she were to remove the curtain, the girl's singing would likely end, and Chloe can't seem to make this happen for unknown reasons. Her body refuses to move.
"You shoot me down, but I won't fall
I am titanium..."
The other woman demonstrates excellent control and projection and goes into exceptional belting. Her vocal range between the two extremes has a distinct "forward" quality, which suggests the tone employed in the belting range and facilitates a smooth transition in how the voice sounds.
As Chloe shuts her eyes, she takes in every nuance of this girl's voice as the chorus repeats, memorizing the sound, and while doing so, her entire body shudders for a myriad of reasons.
"You shoot me down, but I won't fall
I am titanium..."
Chloe hears that voice echoing in her ears, feeling goosebumps creeping over her body as the door to the showers opens and closes with another thud.
Then the room returns to its previous state of silence.
*,*,*
Before Chloe realizes it, the audition is over, and she has no time to dwell on the event.
Throughout the audition process, some candidates have given dazzling performances on stage, showcasing their individuality and dedication. She can envision herself collaborating with the candidates they'd picked and growing close to them individually. Given that, it is almost certain that she will. Although she and Aubrey had agreed that there shouldn't be a definite number of people in the group, the day after the Initiation Party and during the next rehearsal, Aubrey had expelled two people, and one failed to show up.
Two more sopranos—the bubbly Jessica Smith, a slim blonde with a soft smile, and the reserved Lilly Onakuramara, a quiet Japanese Kamikaze, she said. Two altos—the tomboyish Cynthia Rose Adams, a pink, short-haired "black beauty" as Fat Amy referred to her, and the flirtatious Stacie Conrad, an attractive, tall brunette with a lot of sex appeal. Three altos—the encouraging Ashley Jones, a dark-haired woman, who speaks her mind, the comical Fat Amy Hobart, an Australian blonde, and the unremarkable Denise Bukowski, round out the group.
Chloe did not get the reason behind why Aubrey want for them to be arranged in such a manner. In terms of versatility, their vocal ranges are unquestionably wider than those ranges.
Since she hasn't been able to hear that distinctive voice again, Chloe feels a great deal of disgruntlement. She had listened carefully to everyone while she was in the communal showers, with or without Tom, especially when those females started singing. Disregarding that, Aubrey began asking why Chloe was using the communal showers so often, even though their sorority house had two bathrooms. Chloe had explained that she could meet Tom there. Thus, Aubrey never asked again. Chloe had tried as often as she could to shower in the communal showers, but she never encountered that girl head-on at any point while she was showering there.
Maybe Chloe wasn't in the right place for Lady Luck to smile upon her at the right time.
She allows herself to daydream for a moment, and her mind wanders back to the comfort of the showers. Imagining herself if she had approached the other woman and asked her to sing. Chloe does not have any qualms about crossing any personal boundaries, in contrast to perhaps that other young woman, who surely would have freaked out under such circumstances: standing in front of practically a stranger and being entirely nude and Chloe coercing her to sing "Titanium" with her.
She wishes for a moment that this should have happened instead.
And that would have made a difference. A significant one. Because Chloe unquestionably would have encouraged the girl to audition for The Bellas and become a member of the group. Become her friend. Her best friend, even. Conviction fires up through her chest, filling her with fresh resolve.
Chloe has to find her.
And this time, sadly, the young woman had not been one of the contestants at the audition. Chloe had a sliver of hope that the girl would have come across their flyers and decided to audition, perhaps because she was aware of her remarkable vocal abilities. But it seemed as if none of the new members, even those who joined the other a cappella groups, had been the girl in question. That was a singing voice that Chloe might have picked up from a mile away and would have instantly recognized as familiar.
In other words, Chloe would have been subjected to the same pulling force she had experienced the first time.
Sighing heavily, she collapses onto her bed in her room, where the lights are off, and the curtains are drawn. It's in the late afternoon, and Aubrey went out with a few of her girlfriends from that other club she'd joined; Chloe declined to join when Aubrey had asked her to come with them, stating that she had a slight headache.
Music resonates from her iPhone, which she has placed on her chest, playing "Titanium – by David Guetta" as she has it on repeat. She rests her arm over her eyes, silently humming the song's melody, her other hand brushing over the hem of her blouse.
She does her best to conjure up an image of what the girl could look like to whom that voice belongs—she could have a pretty face, maybe not, but who cares? What matters is that she has a great voice. Chloe is convinced that she has never previously heard a voice that is so vivid and brimming with energy, and thus, she's sure she'd recognize it again. A voice that was so captivating to her that it took her breath away from the instant she heard it.
Even though Tom is a good-natured guy, he doesn't seem to understand Chloe's reaction. He had not been mad that he had lost her attention altogether the moment Chloe turned away from him. He'd said to her that the girl did, in fact, have a "lovely voice," but it was clear it did not move him in any way. Not in how it has affected Chloe to her very core.
She turns onto her side and assumes a fetal position, and since being in this emotional state for the first time, she doesn't feel like getting some sensual relief. Instead, her iPhone screen briefly illuminates as it falls from her chest onto the mattress before going entirely dark.
The music continues to play, but the girl's voice is increasingly taking its place as Chloe closes her eyes, and the music gradually fades away.
*,*,*
Because of the consistent accomplishments of the previous members of the Bellas, the new members of the Bellas have earned the right to continue living in the sorority house. This right will remain in effect for as long as the new members of the Bellas continue to have successful careers. Otherwise, the circumstances in which being wealthy enough to pay the rent on such a costly residence would be beneficial.
For obvious reasons, the freshmen Bellas have moved into the Bellas House, which has transpired in two weeks. Except for Denise, who stayed in her dormitory because she feared she would not be able to afford the rent if they failed to be successful. She didn't let on what she was thinking, but it's easy to see why she would be concerned.
Chloe had been helping the new Bellas move in every day by assisting them in moving some of their boxes. Aubrey had organized a moving company, instructing them where to place the cardboard boxes as they were being placed in the hallway. The girls have been assigned their rooms, and each of them is now busy unpacking their belongings and decorating their new bedrooms.
Chloe's room is located on the second floor, where also the bedrooms of Jessica, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose are located. On the third floor are four rooms, each occupied by Lilly, Aubrey, Ashley, and Fat Amy. However, the studio found in the attic remains vacant. That room was Alice's—their former captain—old bedroom, which she had all to herself. The lounge room/guestroom is now where they hang out, meditate, read, and study in smaller groups.
At Jessica's old dorm, Chloe is helping her pack her remaining stuff into duffel bags as Jessica is carrying a bag over her shoulder and a couple of stuffed toys.
Looking gloomily at the empty side of the room where she used to sleep, Jessica makes a dramatic gesture with her hand by placing it on her chest and declares, "This is it. It's done!" While they had been packing Jessica's remaining stuff, she told Chloe that she had already said her goodbyes to her roommate earlier that morning. Currently, her roommate and her boyfriend are enjoying their date. Proudly, Jessica announces, "As my new life as a Bella begins, I have come here to mark the end of my previous one."
Chloe giggles as she stares at her bubbly friend. "You've spent no more than two months so far at Barden," she says, "You haven't even yet begun unpacking, much less gotten rid of the boxes."
"I knew I was destined to become a Bella," Jessica says with a wide grin, squeezing Chloe's hand. "That was the prize I was shooting for."
"I'm glad you auditioned."
As Jessica shuts the door behind them, Chloe and her friend make their way through the dormitory hallway. They make their way down the flight of stairs and share an emotional talk about Jessica's family and her affection for pups.
Chloe is on the next floor when she overhears a man speaking while leaning against a doorframe with his back to the corridor. The man is tall and lanky, with light brown hair and a scruffy beard. He wears a single sports coat, matching slacks, and a button-down top. A brief, reasonably hopeless look around him suggests he's trying to figure out how he got himself in that seemingly unpleasant predicament. The direction the man is staring now is the source of a murmur. Then he steps aside to let a girl with long, straight black hair leave the room with her hands up as if she doesn't want any part of the drama. Chloe hears her brush up against Jessica as she walks through the stairway, and both of them let out annoyed groans.
"Chloe, are you coming?"
For some reason, Chloe's attention is drawn to the scenario unfolding in front of her. She doesn't know why. There's something, though, that seems familiar about the current dispute. As though someone had told her about it a very long time ago. It's not necessarily the circumstance per such, but there's definitely something that's keeping her firmly planted on the spot.
The man seems weary. He steps back when the other person appears at the doorframe, backing the man further towards the corridor.
Chloe recognizes the man's profile; he is one of the comparative literature professors, Dr. Mitchell, at this university, but she has never taken his classes.
The next moment, Chloe's eyes fall on the young woman Dr. Mitchell is conversing with, or more accurately, squabbling with. Puffy and smudged with mascara, the girl's eyes imply that she's been crying. Her dark brown hair is wavy and tousled as if she'd been disturbed from a peaceful sleep as they fall loosely over her shoulders. On her right ear, she is wearing a black spiky earring dangling from the earlobe. Everything that she wears, from her top to her boots, is in deeper tones of color, which could be an unwitting attempt to shift focus away from how she appears and onto what she does or who she is. Chloe finds that how the brunette dresses makes her seem like a hipster version of a cute rock chick. Dr. Mitchell, who might be the girl's father, is seen looking despondently and slightly aggravated at his daughter as she throws her arms in the air in utter exasperation.
The brown-haired girl exclaims in a voice dripping with sarcasm and eyes that are equally agitated, "Just accept the fact that your daughter is a fucking loner and is happy with her solitary lifestyle since I can handle myself very well," she groans loudly, her arms flailing.
"Watch your language!" the man warns. "I'm just saying you'd feel better if—"
"Ugh, no! And I don't want any friends." The brunette scoffs, interrupting her father. "You don't even know me at all, do you?"
The man's body slackens. "Don't do this, Beca." Clearly giving up, he shakes his head. They aren't shouting across the empty corridor, yet their voices can be heard clearly. Chloe pretends to be waiting for someone, so she checks her phone every once in a while to keep herself occupied. She places the duffel bag she has been carrying on the floor, hearing Jessica still calling for her. Chloe overhears the man saying to his daughter in a glum tone. "All I want is for you to be happy and flourish in this place instead of withering away in isolation." The man, leaning away, gives a defiant shake of his head and a sigh of resignation.
"Dad, flourish? Really? Withering? I'm not a flower," comes the snide remark from the girl, "First off, I don't need to be happy. I haven't been happy since you left, so why should it change now?"
This man looks like he got smacked across the face, despondent. As soon as his daughter has uttered those words, she lowers her head and stares at the ground with an expression of annoyance. Perhaps she thinks she's a jerk for having said those words; maybe she wishes she never said what she had said. However, she doesn't apologize. She just keeps taking deep breaths and staring blankly ahead.
"You know what—fine." The man's shoulders sag, controlling his composure. "But please, quit missing classes and use this time wisely by engaging in a worthwhile activity. It means you'll have to put in extra work. With or without friends…."
The brunette suddenly seems aware of the nearby couple standing at one side, staring at Beca and her father because of their not-so-private conversation. Maybe she'd accidentally backed her father out of her room, and they unintentionally continued their discussion in front of the door.
"What exactly are you staring at?" She exclaims angrily at the couple standing next to the professor.
"We just wanted to ask Dr. Mitchell a question about the issues concerning…" the guy says in a squeaky voice, trailing off when he notices the brunette's disgruntled expression, "trans-regional field of theoretical investigation… but you know what, maybe it can wait." They make a hasty getaway from the site.
"Beca," the man sighs. Then, to calm down his upset daughter, he backs her through the door and lifts his palms towards her, imploring her to stay so. "Let's talk about this in private," he urges.
And then Chloe feels this uncanny energy pulling her forward toward this girl... Beca.
But before she can do anything or act on it, the brunette moans in resignation and allows her father to usher her back into the room before shutting the door behind him.
"Chloe, we stay out of it." Strangely, Chloe has been so wrapped up in her own head that she has completely missed the presence of Jessica, who Is suddenly standing right next to her. She has also failed to notice that her friend has put a hand on her arm to prevent her from veering toward the brunette or maybe just to get her attention. "That is none of our business," Jessica tells her, misunderstanding Chloe's behavior. "Let's go; Stacie is already asking where we are."
"Do you know that girl?" Chloe asks, turning to her friend. "I think I've seen her once with Jesse. But I'm not sure if it was really her."
"I met her during the freshmen orientation, which is when I first saw her. So, I take it she may also be a first-year?" Jessica tilts her head as if remembering something. "Ah, wait, we have a few classes together, but she's ignoring everybody. I think she's just not a fan of small talk… or socializing. And besides, she's got that resting-bitchface, and I don't really bother talking to her," Jessica proceeds with a dismissive wave of her hand. They make their way out of the dormitories together, strolling side by side. "Although I've tried chatting to her only once. But she just snubbed me."
"How rude," Chloe says in compassion, adjusting the strap of the duffel bag on her shoulder, "makes her somehow interesting."
Jessica turns her head to her. "Chloe," she continues, all gloomy, "you heard her; she doesn't want any friends."
*,*,*
They started with cardio by running rounds in the dance studio, then strutting with borrowed high heels—because a Bella must walk with grace, according to Aubrey. Then aerobic exercises. Except for Stacie, everybody broke down, panting. Since Chloe goes jogging regularly, the workouts never bother her. And Stacie does work out in her spare time, too, as it seems.
Then they proceeded with vocal warmups and worked their way down Aubrey's checklist (20 minutes in total.) Currently, they are on No. 7 of 13 steps – "TWO-OCTAVE PITCH GLIDE WARM-UP."
During this exercise, they create a sound similar to "eee" or "ohhhh" and gently glide over the chromatic notes of a range that spans two octaves. Proceed upwards and then downwards. This will cause your voice to change from being chest-based to being head-based.
"NO, Denise! That's a falsetto; it's too breathy! I want to hear your head voice!" The blonde captain then demonstrated and sang with a head voice in her natural range, placing a hand on Denise's chest, then moving her hand up to Denise's neck and lifting her hand further as she formed it as if holding an invisible bowl, to "allow" the sound to move into the head.
"Jessica, over here!" As she called for the other blonde who had been practicing with Ashley, anyone who wasn't completing the exercises felt the sharpness of Aubrey's demanding glare. Jessica scurried over to them with her head bent low. "Listen now. Jessica, let her hear your head voice."
And no one can match Jessica's unique head voice quality. Not even Aubrey herself.
And still, Jessica isn't getting a solo.
This is what Aubrey wants, however. She wants the group as a whole to strive for uniform excellence rather than encouraging everyone to develop their own unique vocal skills and sense of self-expression. However, in Chloe's opinion, a singer needs to be true to their vocal genetics and stick to those strengths.
Aubrey ought to know that because Alice had tried to suppress her vocal strength. Just like Chloe, Aubrey was relegated to the role of background vocalist and never given the freedom to express herself by singing the notes that were natural to her, despite being one of the excellent singers in the group.
Until the last performance they had. Since Aubrey had been granted the opportunity to sing a solo, she was so anxious about the performance that she suffered from sleep deprivation for days. They'd spent hours and days practicing those inane medley songs. Aubrey sang those lyrics in her most nuanced soprano voice while she jogged with Chloe to improve her stamina, resistance, and vocal functional flexibility without getting winded. As if they'd do crazy choreography like The Treblemakers. But Chloe's love for Aubrey carried Chloe through the unfortunate circumstances she was put through.
Now, Aubrey is becoming like Alice.
The last step was No. 13 – "TONGUE TWISTERS IN DIFFERENT PITCHES," that moment when they lost the group's attention altogether.
"I can't hear you!" Aubrey says to Lilly now. "Are you even saying anything?"
Lilly has an extraordinary sense of rhythm and timing, as well as great breath and voice control despite her whispering. So, for what would she be most suited, given her quietness?
"Aubrey, give them time," Chloe reminds her, but Aubrey just shakes her head.
"Incompetence on this scale makes me want to scream," Aubrey hisses under her breath as she takes a chug of her water.
The rehearsals have been disastrous, but Aubrey should have known better. They have not spent much time together so far. Some of the Bellas struggled with matching pitch (particularly after the workouts, but who could blame them?), staying engaged during the vocal warm-up (their eyes would roll out of boredom and irritation), and doing simultaneous dancing and singing exercises. There was no type of coordination or harmony amongst them. In addition, Aubrey hasn't been helping matters much. She's struggling to fit all her exercises into two hours a day instead of breaking them up so that each one may reach its full potential before moving on to the next.
Putting all of that aside, Chloe has noticed that Aubrey treats her more like an assistant than a co-leader. Chloe was not permitted to express her opinion or offer encouragement to the other girls when it was evident that they were doing blatantly off-key. That was supposed to be Aubrey's job. Because Chloe wasn't "stern" and "authoritarian" enough. But then she dismissed the possibility that Aubrey was anxious to fail because they were taking charge of a group for the first time—maybe it'll get better with time. They also have a gig scheduled for the following month, so….
The girls finally break under the strain of listening to the same medley of songs nonstop for two hours, played as "background music" in an effort to subconsciously induce memorization of the lyrics while doing the workouts and doing the vocal warmups.
Lilly would pretend to have gone into cardiac arrest and become stiff; she'd lie motionless on the ground like a piece of petrified plank wood. Fat Amy would give up during the rounds. She would munch on her snacks and occasionally join the girls; sometimes, she'd sit down as the others did stretching exercises. Aubrey has often threatened to expel her from the group if she did not participate "this instant," to which Fat Amy has retaliated by flipping her the finger.
Chloe, the more lenient of the two, always the peacemaker, and the diplomat between them, reassures Aubrey that she will practice with the ones falling behind. Both Jessica and Stacie struggle to keep up with the tempo because Stacie's movements are inappropriately sexual, while Jessica's movements are too rigid. Although Denise and Cynthia Rose are talented dancers, their moves don't match the song's overall vibe of girl power and feminism. Well, and Ashley is Ashley—she goes with the flow.
When Chloe and Aubrey are finally alone together, Chloe says to Aubrey, "This was just too much at once; you're scaring them." She shifts her position so that she stands behind the piano, and then she goes for her water bottle to take a sip. "Give them time," she adds.
"Which is what we're, in fact, lacking right now. We have a show scheduled for next month, and if this does not succeed, we will inevitably fail the regionals as well," Aubrey groans and glares at her. Chloe is immune to Aubrey Posen's stare; therefore, she cannot intimidate her. Because Chloe knows Aubrey's softer side, she knows that Aubrey's act is only intended to encourage the Bellas to put in more effort. This is the stress you deal with when you become the new captain.
"Look," Chloe says softly, "we're the leaders now. Shouldn't our responsibility be to see each of their strength and work with that?"
"I just… I don't know the best course of action in this case, Chloe. Only a few more months remain, which is not much time left to work with." A sigh escapes Aubrey's lips as she gathers the music sheets, and she pays little attention to Chloe's attempt to provide a solution. "And I feel that it'll be another humiliation next month."
"It won't be," Chloe reassures her gently, "Aubrey, look, I thought you never wanted to be like Alice. But look at you now."
"Because I feel like I'm the only one of us taking the responsibilities that come with this position seriously," she remarks, tucking the music sheets in its bag quite passive-aggressively. Then she turns her back on Chloe by erasing the whiteboard.
"A-ca-scuse me?" Chloe gasps in shock, feeling slightly hurt at the accusation. Her mouth parts as she struggles to find the words to respond.
"You heard me." Aubrey spins around and smacks the whiteboard eraser into its rack, resulting in the marker falling off the board. Aubrey utters a grunt of exasperation before crouching like a lady to pick it up. "Ugh!"
"Will you calm down!" Chloe chastises her. "Of course, I take my responsibilities seriously," she adds, indignation dripping at every syllable. She makes her way around the piano to get closer to Aubrey, but the glare her tall, blonde best friend presents her with this time causes Chloe to stop dead in her tracks. Chloe's eyes shift from their argument and onto the now empty space of the dance studio, the chairs that are strewn about, and the window that is ajar as she tries to think of a more peaceful approach. This time, she uses a more comforting tone as she endeavors to convince Aubrey that they have simply been working on their performance for the past few days. "They will improve with time, you'll see. A cappella should be fun and not like this. Look, we're going to be patient, levelheaded, and critical leaders, and we're in this together."
Chloe sees the fire flashing within milliseconds behind her co-leader's icy blue eyes, but it does not last for very long as they face each other in a head-on stare-down. After that, Aubrey's stern features begin to deflate. Because of everything the two have been through together, Chloe is confident that Aubrey loves her. "Are you sure we're going to make this work? That they will get this right?"
The question catches Chloe off guard, and her mind quickly jumps to each of the Bellas and their poor performances and vocal ability during the last few rehearsals. They were singing out of pitch and forgetting the lyrics. Shaky steps, awkward motions, unladylike and or sexual gestures, and wild flapping of the arms. Their attitudes throughout the rehearsals. Since they lack physical stamina, focus, and coordination, they cannot complete even the simplest tasks in Aubrey's eyes. Due to the lack of beats, rhythm, and cohesiveness, all that was reinforced by the general feeling that something was missing. Or maybe even—someone.
But she believes in them. She's never been so confident.
"Totes," Chloe says with an eager nod, "and no one is born a master."
*,*,*
Another two weeks later, they have their first exclusive Bellas Party.
"All right, a-ca-pitches," Aubrey announces by raising her glass of champagne in the air, "from now on, we shall be sisters forever," she pauses and looks around her to meet each of the Bellas' eyes as intently as she can, "We shall be Bellas for life. Until one of you commits a crime by having sexual relations with our rivals, with the enemy, the Trebles. I will never, ever forgive any of you. Remember that. You have given us your oath, word, and blood."
Chloe drops her head and coughs beside her. She has no clue where Aubrey is going with this speech, but she doesn't want her to exaggerate the threat and scare off the Bellas.
Chloe breaks in with a cheery, champagne-filled toast, saying, "Anyway, we formally welcome each of you, and we realize that it took us some time for this. Here's to the Bellas and their bright future!"
"But having sex with people other than the Trebles is okay, right?" Stacie's eyebrows go up in question. "Because I am not here at college to have no sex whatsoever."
"And not for education nor the degree," Fat Amy roars in her Australian accent, huffing, "we are here for the sex!"
When Aubrey growls through gritted teeth, Chloe can feel the tension from her co-captain and see her palm clench on her glass. "I don't care whom you bitches have sex with–" her eyes halting briefly at Cynthia Rose, then moving along the other, "–what your sexuality is," then to Stacie and Fat Amy, "or how often you have sex, I don't care–"
The Bellas, assuming she's finished speaking, begin to clap slowly.
But Aubrey continues sharply, "–as long as you, I repeat, don't get Treble-boned."
Chloe places a hand on Aubrey's arm, taking her aside. "I think they get it. This is our first party, so let's just enjoy it. This is for us to bond, Aubrey, don't ruin this."
"Sorry, but I have to ensure they understand."
"It has already cost us two members," Chloe states calmly, "don't you think it's enough?"
Aubrey takes a deep breath, nods twice, and turns towards the group. They chatter along, immediately silenced by Aubrey's fierce smile.
"I apologize, ladies," she says, tapping her manicured fingernails on her champagne glass, "I apologize if I went on too long, but I think you get the message."
Lilly moves her lips, and Chloe and Aubrey lean forward to hear her. Only Denise, standing to the left of Lilly, repeats her words with something like, "Bellas are like wolves" and "if you run from a wolf, you may run into a bear."
The Bellas give each other a look, then nod. "Nicely said," Chloe encourages as Stacie turns up the volume of the music that blasts through the entire house.
"To the Bellas!"
*,*,*
Even though some females have been passed out drunk on the sofa, floor, or table for hours, the party continues until well after midnight. Aubrey had lowered the volume to fit the mood. Fat Amy is snoozing on the kitchen table with her head cocked to one side and an outline of empty beer bottles marking her form. Chloe giggled at the sight, but she scolded the rest of the Bellas for snapping pictures to embarrass the passed-out blonde Australian the following day. Also, Chloe had placed a blanket over Fat Amy's exposed belly to keep her warm.
Denise had long returned to her dormitory, announcing that she might not make it back if she drank more than she already had. They offered she could stay the night and crash on the guestroom's couch, but she insisted on leaving, claiming that she'd instead want to sleep in her own bed.
The only girls that are now enjoying a movie are Stacie, Jessica, Lilly, and Ashley. After advising the girls to get plenty of rest so they could function at their rehearsal with fresh minds, Aubrey said goodnight at 11 o'clock and walked up to her room.
Chloe reaches for her iPhone, which Aubrey had stashed away in a drawer during the party. She thinks of Tom and sends him a text that reads, 'Goodnight, love you and miss you,' then slips her phone into her jeans' back pocket.
Since Chloe feels the need for some oxygen, she leaves the house. She's crossing her fingers that her earlier rejection of him didn't leave him too disheartened. During the evening, he sent her a text asking to meet up, but she declined because she was at a party. When he asked Chloe if he could come along, she laughed it off, since it would be unfair if she were the only one who brought a boyfriend.
'It's our first Bellas' Party, no boys allowed ;)' she messaged him. After that, Aubrey collected up all the girls' smartphones, including Chloe's, for the sole purpose of a distraction-free party and hid them in a drawer, acting as though she were the strict mother who needed to discipline the girls' behavior. Aubrey added that this was so their bonding time as a group could take place without interruption, and it would be "just for tonight." All the Bellas agreed to this.
Chloe bonded with the girls quickly, loving each of them as though they'd known each other for many years, not just a couple of weeks since the audition. But this results from their shared living situation and the regular rehearsals they undergo. It's just that with 1-2 of them, she'd bonded more than with the others, but she doesn't have favorites.
It's a beautiful, cloudless night. The walk across the sorority homes takes about ten minutes, so Chloe walks down the small path towards the dormitories, staring up at the building with dots of light indicating occupied rooms, presumably of students who aren't sleeping yet.
Then she recalls the brunette girl she saw two weeks ago and thinks about where she might have her window.
Chloe can't help but think about the girl who, like a classic hipster chick, was looking downcast as she glared at her father. She doesn't understand the reason behind the brunette's anger, but she's interested in finding out why it was such a big deal.
Furthermore, she wonders why, out of all the individuals she might be thinking of at this exact moment, this girl pops up in her mind.
She goes through the gap in the hedges that divide the common dormitories from the sorority homes. Then she continues walking for another half hour along the campus perimeter until she reaches that structure that houses an abandoned pool that had been drained years ago. She sees the ladders propped up against the building wall, partially obscured by shrubs and tree branches, and decides to climb one of them. Her best guess is that it's for preparing for the upcoming riff-off competition to access the site, at which all new a cappella members partake.
The warm, white glow of the moon illuminates the vast space. As Chloe observes—with pensive sadness—the void at the bottom of the pool from her vantage point behind the stone railing, she cannot help but feel overcome with the peculiar sensation that her life lacks something important.
A daydream enters her mind as she sees groups of a cappella members filling the drained pool and the perimeter, as if blurring into the image. The ones at the bottom of the pool compete in a singing competition—the riff-off.
Chloe and Aubrey were only in their first year of college when their previous captain, Alice, prohibited them in the strongest possible terms from partaking in such an unsophisticated contest. She had stated that a lady of the Barden Bellas would never participate in such an activity.
Chloe glances at the drained pool with a half-smile and watches the groups singing and performing songs with no instruments; their arrangements are perfect, voices blending and harmonizing flawlessly. But one of them sticks out—a female vocalist. It's a face Chloe doesn't instantly recognize, but something inside her tells her she's seen this brunette woman before.
And then this girl, Beca's face, appears again in her imagination, morphing and distorting into the image currently in front of her, the vision of the girl singing and employing her voice to compete with the other groups. She is rapping the lyrics to the song "No Diggity" as she moves to the center of the empty pool, standing in the spotlight. Everybody around, including the crowd sitting around the pool's edge, is frowning in bewilderment, and gazing at each other in a state of confused astonishment; nobody seems to know the lyrics.
If she goes on like this, she will presumably just humiliate herself, but then...
The only moment they understand what's going on is when this version of Beca starts singing the chorus part. Her all-female group begins with beats, provides the backing vocals, do the harmonies at the right parts. And their improvised arrangements sound impeccable and spot-on. It gives Chloe goosebumps.
After that, one of the other competing groups starts singing along with her, and gradually, all the other groups join in. In the end, they join voices to hum the chorus together, serving as the background vocals, at which point they are perceived as a single large group.
Then, as Chloe watches, a hazy image of another young woman materializes from the midst of the group in front of her eyes and joins the others. The person may be a warped version of Chloe herself, but it's also possible that she isn't. Both possibilities are feasible. Despite this, the fact that she has hair the color of flaming red makes her stand out from the rest of the crowd and makes it hard to confuse her with anyone else.
But then… does that mean that the all-female group of this Beca are the current Bellas?
As Chloe maintains her position behind the stone railing, she is able to make out the roaring of the music playing within her mind. The voice of this brunette girl, Beca, is unmistakable, despite the fact that Chloe may just be experiencing auditory and visual hallucinations of this piece at this very moment. It is not the first time she has heard that voice. But where exactly? And that every other aspect appears to be as though it were a reality.
As much as Chloe wants to believe that the event in question actually took place, she can't shake the feeling that these are someone else's recollections. Exactly as fixed in time, yet in a thousand slightly different ways that hardly matter. Regardless, she finds it quite unusual and unsettling.
This is not a memory that belongs to her.
How is it even possible to imagine this? To remember this?
Remember something that never happened in reality?
Or had she just been so drunk and hungover that she couldn't remember this happening before? But why are these Bellas so superb? The same result of completing hundreds of hours of hard work and training Chloe's Bellas would get. And why is Beca among them? The memories suddenly flood her like a river through a shattered dam.
Chloe shakes her head, wondering if she has gone insane or is just too drunk now from all the liquor she has consumed the whole evening.
Her iPhone vibrates, and she picks it up from her back pocket.
It's a text from Stacie, 'Grl, whr the heck r u? Not cool not saying anythg Luv u, cap.'
Stacie's text is broken because she's most likely too inebriated to type. Because whereas Chloe doesn't give a hoot about grammar or spelling, Stacie constantly makes sure to proofread her text messages twice. Chloe had been referring to the tallest Bella as the one she had grown the closest to over the course of the previous month. They are each other's opposite room neighbors, both extroverted and have the same sense of levity and bantering flair. Thus, they hang out together quite often.
'Just took a quick walk. Be right back. Xoxo'
Chloe tucks away her phone in the pocket of her jeans, brushes her hair with her fingertips behind her ear, and moves her focus away from the fading vision in front of her eyes.
By ascending the ladder, she eventually escapes the enormous expanse of the abandoned pool. At the bottom of the structure, she closes her eyes as she takes a long breath to ensure that she can thoroughly savor the sensation of breathing in the cool air before moving forward by taking a step.
Then, she collides with another person.
"Dude, watch the fuck out!"
Chloe blinks. She was sure of being alone here.
The other person looks disgruntled as they take their headphones down, watching Chloe warily.
"Excuse me," she says quickly, staggering backward. And the first thing she catches is those deep, ravishing eyes.
It's this girl, Beca.
Chloe allows her eyes to roam over the pallid face of the other woman, who keeps her hands hidden in the pockets of her jeans. The brunette's ensemble comprises tattered jeans and a dark blue and black checkered shirt. Headphones draped around her neck as if they were a piece of accessory.
Chloe could have picked out this young woman—whom Jessica referred to as having a "resting-bitchface"—even in a crowded place since she always seems to have the same expression.
The girl scurries past Chloe, keeping a safe distance as she does so. She's eyeing her warily as she walks past, huffing when Chloe doesn't take her eyes away from her.
It's possible that they simply happened to be walking toward each other at the same time. And suddenly, in the middle of the night, when neither one of them was paying attention to their surroundings, their two worlds collide.
But why her? Why Beca, of all people? Why here, of all places?
"It's getting weird..." the young woman mumbles in a sing-song mockery voice, nervously chuckling in her fist as she shakes her head. She stares warily at Chloe, body half-turned away. Beca might be experiencing a heightened sense of self-consciousness, as Chloe feels she can't seem to tear her eyes away from her. And Beca seems like she can't leave, as if Chloe's stare is gluing the brunette on the spot.
But just as it was with that wonderfully beautiful voice from the communal showers and the regret of not having confronted the singer, therefore not discovering her identity, Chloe feels at this very moment that she needs to speak to this girl. She doesn't want to dwell on this moment in the future and spend her time at night counting all the "what ifs" like a flock of sheep passing her mind.
Because something feels so strange, something is pulling her, like gravity, toward the earth. But instead of the earth, it's this girl. For whatever reason.
But without a doubt, Chloe wants to know why she has seen this girl in her mind taking part in the riff-off challenge down in the empty pool, rapping and singing along with the audience.
With her and the other Bellas.
As if it's haunting her, like the memory of some former happiness.
"You're Beca, right?" Chloe asks, more a statement than a question. She initially crosses her arms, then quickly uncrosses them to seem approachable. Put on an air of casualness and ease. And without adopting an adversarial stance.
"How'd you...?" the girl stammers, "Dude, have you been stalking me?" This brunette chick moves backward with extreme caution. Then, in an increasingly apparent attempt to keep Chloe from maybe scratching her eyes, Beca steps back, like Chloe is a predator she wants to keep an eye on.
"No, I just overheard your name being mentioned once," Chloe says with a smile. "Your, um, your little dispute with your father?"
"Which one?" A little pause before Beca adds as if remembering, "Oh, sure, that one. Everybody heard that, and everybody remembers." She gives a sigh of exasperation and rolls her eyes at the words. She looks Chloe over carefully while maintaining a sneer on her lips. She appears to be on the verge of making a break for it by quickly glancing in the direction of the dormitories. And Beca obviously gives off the impression that she does not like to talk with anyone. It seems as though she is experiencing an overwhelming sense of unease while interacting with another person. "Look, I have to go back. Nice, um, talking to you."
The girl, Beca, places her headphones back on to signify the end of their "conversation," then turns on her heel to walk quickly away. With long, quick strides away from Chloe.
Now, Chloe isn't someone who can be easily turned down. On the contrary, she loves the challenge that comes with it. And she must discover the origin of this feeling of belonging to something—or someone. And why. If she finds a person intriguing, she has to get to know that person. No matter what it takes.
And Beca is undoubtedly that—intriguing. Yet, there's something about the enigmatic brunette with those steel-blue eyes that Chloe cannot quite comprehend. For example, this tremendous pull. Like a gravitational pull of a black hole that is tearing Chloe apart as she merges into the accretion disk surrounding Beca.
It is a concept that she cannot grasp, but Chloe feels like her insides are screaming from all pores, calling for Beca. Whether she had consciously put Beca's facial features on that envisioned female vocalist's face from the riff-off, Chloe could not tell. But as the vision appeared out of nowhere, like her brain had projected these images before her, making them seem real, she doesn't believe she consciously created that fantasy.
That moment seemed like traversing a tunnel to a Parallel Universe, she ponders. And seeing a representation of herself as well as all the individuals she is familiar with. The connections that she has with them... With Beca. And in this reality, she experiences everything that the other version of herself feels, which is why it is so difficult for her to differentiate between them.
Panic overcomes her—What if the other world is real and this one is the dream?
Okay, Chloe, think logically…
Is it possible that this is an indication of early-onset psychosis? Or perhaps she has a brain tumor. Is it developing some form of insanity? Hallucination? What's happening to her, at the tender age of 21? Why, exactly, did she see Beca Mitchell's face while she imagined the riff-off girl down at the pool?
And why did the Beca that existed in this reality have the voice of the shower singer?
Could this be a sign from the Universe that perhaps it was Beca Mitchell who was singing in the shower stalls?
Whose singing voice did Chloe find herself pulled to for some inexplicable reason?
Chloe is so baffled by the prospect that she can only shake her head. It gives her a chill to the bone as she tries to push any thoughts of the brunette out of her mind.
It cannot be.
A/N: This story isn't finished, so I actually hadn't intended to share it quite yet but because of the anniversary I posted it. :) As a personal challenge, I've decided to make each chapter roughly 10,000 words long (more or less.) As a matter of fact, the first three chapters are PRECISELY 10,000 words (without Author's Note, of course). Unless I have overseen a couple errors... :) Since this is a Parallel Universe, the timeline will be slightly different but still the same. I will also mention A. Kendrick and B. Snow real life personalities and friendship and include moments from the other Pitch Perfect movies (just minor stuff). Sadly, Emily Junk is not part of this story since the plot takes place in 2011-2012.
A/N: If you hadn't read the top A/N, you should do so. It's important for the story's plot.
Sidenote: Beca (22 Sep. 1992) Chloe (07 June 1990)
