AN: Hey guys! I know it's been a while since I've uploaded a chapter of this, and for that I apologize. I've been slowly typing away at it, but I don't want to get too caught up, so I'm taking my time.

This is just me apologizing for being so late and for this chapter; it's pretty rushed, especially in the first half. It won't always be like this, I just wanted to get it moving. The first two chapters were more of an introduction, this is where the real story starts. I hope you enjoy, and I love you awesome nerds!

Chapter 3

"I've got the perfect idea for a song!" I exclaim to Theo the moment I barge into his office.

"Awesome, what is it?" He swivels around in his chair to face me, and I perch on the edge of his desk.

"So, I've been wanting to dabble in country music for a long time now." he gives me a confused look. "The song is called 'What Hurts the Most.'"

"Chloe?"

I nod slowly. "It's about how I can take the pain of everything else, but what hurts the most was being so close. So close to being yours, and having so much to say."

His face breaks out in a wide grin. "Beca, that's brilliant."

"I know, right?" I give him a high-five. "I've already got down some of the lyrics, but I was thinking I could perform it at the next concert."

He blinks. "The next concert is next week."

I laugh. "I know, but I also know you and I can get it done by then."

"Alright. Let's do it."

The rest of the day is spent writing, singing, and producing music. By the time I get back home, it's nine at night, and I can barely speak.

"You look beat." Jesse comments as I flop on the couch, and I nod.

In a scratchy voice, I say, "Theo and I did a lot of work today. It was great." Before he can even ask, I toss him a flash drive. Jesse always asks to listen to my music before it comes out, so I always put it on a flash drive beforehand for him.

He immediately puts it into his laptop and starts playing it. I cringe at the sound of my voice- as I always do, I hate listening to myself- but Jesse has a wide grin. "This is amazing, Becs."

"Thanks, Jess." I whisper and smile back at him.

"I have an idea." He announces and closes his laptop. "We're going out."

"To where?" I groan, but allow him to pull me up.

"The bar. Obviously."

"That, I can agree to." I grab my wallet, and together, we walk out to his car.


It doesn't take too long to get there, technically, but it feels as if it was a million years. Sure, Jesse can really sing, but not when he's just screaming at the top of his lungs. One who didn't know him would think he's already drunk.

"We're going to find you a girl tonight!" He announces over the surprisingly loud music, and I shake my head.

"You've been trying to find me a girl for the past month now, dude. No."

His bottom lip juts out in a pout. "Oh, come on, please?" In a smaller voice, he adds, "I hate seeing you like this. All lonely."

"I'm not alone." I force a smile onto my face to make him feel better. "I have you."

He rolls his eyes at me and gives me a pointed look. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah." I shrug, and we sit together at the bar.

"I'll take a scotch on the rocks." Jesse tells the bartender, and I nod.

"Same." Once we get our drinks, I look back over at Jesse and say, "I hope to know I can't get wasted tonight. I still have to go to work tomorrow." He doesn't answer; he doesn't even look at me. "Dude, what are you staring at?"

He finally turns, and he has an excited look on his face. "Cardi B is here."

"Oh God." I rest my head against the bar. Jesse loves Cardi B, but I find her highly annoying. Sure, some of her songs are good, but her personality isn't the greatest.

"Can we go say hi? Please?" He looks like a puppy begging for a treat, and I sigh.

"You can, I'm staying right here."

He groans. "If I go with you, I look cool. If I go alone, I look like one of those groupies."

"I'm not going."

"Excuse me, ma'am." The bartender walks back up to us with a hesitant smile. "Some people have noticed you here and are asking me to see if you'd sing a song or two for them."

"You gotta do it." Jesse says before I can respond, almost as if he's trying to convince me to.

I roll my eyes at him. "I wasn't going to say no, dumbass."

"Oh." He looks shocked, yet happy, as I stand up and make my way to the stage. As soon as the band stops playing, people start looking up. It only takes a moment for them to notice me and start cheering.

"Good evening, New York City!" I say into the microphone, and they scream even louder. As they do so, I turn and grab one of the guitars from behind me. I look at the band members and gesture to the guitar, and they nod. Turning back to the microphone and crowd, I say, "so I've been working on something new and would love to practice it on you guys, if you don't mind."

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house, that don't bother me

I can take a few years now and then and just let them out,

I'm not afraid to cry every once and awhile

Even though going on with you gone still upsets me

There are day every now and again I pretend I'm ok

But that's not what gets me

I look up from the microphone, and suddenly it seems like everything is moving in slow motion.

The first thing I hear is a loud bang. I don't know where it's from, but suddenly everyone is screaming, running, and diving under chairs and desks. My fight-or-flight instincts tell me to do the same, but for some reason, I can't move.

The next thing I notice is Jesse. He's hiding under a table, and his eyes are wide as we make contact. I can hear him yelling my name, and it sounds so scared and frantic, but I still can't do anything.

The last thing I see is a guy standing at the back of the bar, with a gun pointed at me. At this point, everything suddenly speeds up; he grins at me, and something- probably a bullet- pierces me in the stomach. I scream and fall to the ground. Jesse's at my side in a second, looking terrified. The man gives me one more evil grin before running away.

"Someone call 9-11!" Jesse screams out, and I yelp again when I feel pressure on my stomach. "Beca, can you hear me?"

"Y-yes." I manage to force out an answer, and he sighs.

"I need you to concentrate on the sound of my voice, ok?" I weakly nod, and he continues. "Talk to me, Becs. Tell me a funny story."

"Once upon a time, my best friend dragged me to a bar." I whisper, and he glares at me. "Too s-soon?"

He holds his hands up for me to see, which are covered in blood. "I would say so."

My eyes widen at how much blood he's covered in. "Am I going to die?"

"No, hey, hey, look at me." He gives me a soft smile. "You are not going to die. I promise you aren't."

I cough, and tears flood my eyes with pain. "You c-can't promise t-that."

"You just have to keep fighting." A tear rolls down his face. "Please don't give up on me."

Somehow, I muster the strength to grunt. "What makes you think I'm ready to d-die?"

He gives me a shaky smile. "That's my girl."

The sound of sirens fills the air, and he lets out another sigh of relief. "You're gonna be ok."

I turn my head over toward the door to watch for the EMTs, and it pissed me off how I can't even yell at the people in the room to stop taking pictures.

Jesse, though, must sense what I'm thinking, because he gets up and yells, "get the hell out of here! Any of those pictures or videos get published and we're suing. Don't think I'm joking, because I promise you I am dead serious." They all look at each other before quickly exiting.

"T-thank you." I whisper when he kneels back down next to me, and he nods.

"Of course."

It's starting to get harder to keep my eyes open. "J-Jesse…"

"Don't fall asleep." He warns softly, and I try to nod. It feels like my whole body is made of led, though, and my head doesn't even move.

"I…" I close my eyes to blink, and this time, I know they aren't opening again.

I float in and out of consciousness as the EMTs get me into the ambulance. I register Jesse arguing with one of them to let him ride with us. In the end, he must have won, because the next thing I know, he's holding my hand as we speed down the highway.

We're in the hospital, and we're rushing to the emergency room. Jesse gets pushed off to the side, and I hear him crying in the corner of the room.

"Beca!" Chloe's voice cuts through me like a knife, and I open my eyes enough to see her standing next to Jesse. It isn't enough, though, and it's the last thing I remember before closing my eyes for the last- and what might be final- time.


When my eyes flutter back open, I'm expecting to see Jesse and Chloe standing by my bedside, but the view in front of me shocks me beyond belief. I'm laying in a meadow, and there's kids in old-fashioned clothing running around everywhere.

"Are you ok, ma'am?" A young woman with brunette hair and blue eyes asks, and my mouth falls open when I recognize her. I just can't name her…

"Do I know you?" I blurt out, and I'm surprised again at how strong my voice is. Am I in Heaven? Right as I think it, though, my head starts pounding. I'm pretty sure you can't feel pain in Heaven. So where the hell am I?

"I don't think so, you don't look familiar." She offers me her hand, and I allow her to pull me up. "My name is Stacie. Stacie Conrad."

So that's how I know her… "Beca Mitchell." I introduce myself. Honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't recognized me by now. Or that the paparazzi isn't crowding me… "Um, what year is it?"

She gives me a strange look. "It's 1776."

"No way." I give her a pointed look. "It's 2021, don't lie to me." But as I look around again, I realize it doesn't look like the 21st century at all.

She gives me another strange- yet this time, maybe even concerned- look. "It's definitely 1776. The Declaration of Independence is being signed tomorrow."

I reach into my pockets for my phone, but realize I too am wearing a dress. "What the fuck?"

"Stacie!" Someone calls out, and when I look back up, my breath catches in my throat. A young woman, 21 at the oldest, walks up to us. She has hazel eyes, long brown hair, and an olive complexion. Her voice is soft, yet powerful, as if she knows exactly who she is and what she wants to do. She still has that sparkle in her eye, as if she hasn't experienced tragedy in her life yet.

"Mrs. Applebaum." Stacie smiles at her, and the young- and apparently married- woman waves her off.

"I told you, Emily is fine. We've known each other since we were kids." She then turns to me, and her smile widens. "Hi."

"Hey." I say back, and to be polite, I hold my hand out to her. She stares at me in mild confusion for a second before taking my hand in hers. It's not quite a handshake, but it's something. "I'm Beca. Beca Mitchell."

"Emily Junk." She responds, then quickly shakes her head. "I meant Applebaum, sorry. I'm not used to this whole 'being married' thing yet."

"At least he's rich." Stacie comments, then saunters off. I can't help but notice the way Emily watches her leave. It's a look, and a feeling, I know all too well.

"You like her, don't you?"

She turns to me and gasps, but her ears and face are bright red. "W-what? No, of course not! That's the devil's work."

"Hey," I lower my voice to a whisper. "Where I'm from, women liking women and men liking men is normal."

She perks up at this, a surprised smile covering her face. "Really?"

I nod. "Yeah. It's not accepted by everyone, but it's normal."

"You're the only person I've met other than my husband who understands." Her smile turns a little sad. "Say, can I offer you some dinner?"

"Um." I glance at my watch, which is surprisingly still digital, considering my lack of phone. "I guess so."

"Awesome!" She practically squeals, and the action reminds me so much of Chloe it sends a momentary pain through my chest. I'm thankful for the distraction when she links her arm in mine. "So, where are you from?"

I shrug. I'm not sure I should tell her the truth, considering Stacie's reaction, but something feels different about this girl. Unable to decide, I settle for half of the truth. "Somewhere much different than here."

She looks curious. "How did you get here?"

I shake my head and shrug. "I have no idea."

Her brow furrows, almost as if I'm some mystery she's trying to solve. "You really aren't from around here, are you?"

Another shake of the head. "Is it that obvious?"

She laughs. "You don't talk like the rest of the women in this town."

"Is this New York?"

She lets out another chuckle. "I wish. This is Atlanta, Georgia."

"Oh." I blink in shock.

Ever more confused, she asks, "are you ok? Did something happen to you?"

"It might sound crazy."

She smiles. "I've always believed that things happen in the world that no one can explain." Suddenly, we stop, and she opens the front door of a small, but cute, farmhouse.

"Nice home."

"Thanks." She gives me a polite grin and yells out, "Benji, I'm home! And I've brought a guest!"

Suddenly, a man with brown, curly hair and a wide smile walks out with a newspaper in his hand. "Hi, I'm Benji. Benji Applebaum."

"So nice to meet you, Mr. Applebaum." I say, and he shakes me off in the same manner his wife sis earlier.

"Benji is fine." He turns and leads us to the kitchen. "What brings you to Atlanta?"

I glance over at Emily, and she nods. "A bullet wound."

He gasps. "Are you in the war?"

"What war?" I feel like I should know this, but American History was not my best subject in school.

"The Revolution." Emily says, and I facepalm.

"Right, that war." Mostly to myself, I mutter, "why the hell am I here?"

Benji raises an eyebrow at me. He doesn't look like he's judging me; he just looks as curious as his wife. "Where are you from?"

I sigh, then tell them everything. I tell them about how I'm an actress, a singer, and a producer. I tell them I come from the year 2021. I tell them about Jesse, and Chloe, and college. I tell them about how I was performing on stage, then got shot. I tell them how, when I woke up, I ended up here.

"That's amazing." Benji says. Emily just stares, her mouth wide open in shock.

"Wait. You believe me?" I ask, and they both nod.

"No one could come up with a story that convincing and it not be true." Benji says, and Emily nods.

"Also, the way you carry yourself is so different than anyone we've ever seen." She adds. "You're… confident. Fearless."

At this, I shake my head and laugh. "That's so not true, but thanks."

Before either of them can say anything, there's a loud pounding on the door. "I'll be right back." Benji meets Emily's confused gaze for a second before leaving the room.

She looks over at me with sad, fearful eyes. "They've been trying to convince him to fight for weeks now." I just shake my head, unsure of what to say. I'm still super confused as to how I'm even here.

Benji comes back, and my eyes bug out of my head when I see who's behind him. "Bumper?"

All three people in the house look at me. "That's Mr. Allen to you, ma'am." Bumper says rather rudely, and I almost laugh. "Mr. Applebaum, this isn't up for discussion. We need you."

"Go." Emily whispers sadly, and Benji turns to look at her. "Just go. They can't win without you."

He sets his jaw and looks back at Bumper. "Alright, let's go."

They head upstairs, and Emily rests her head down on the table. "God, I hope he's going to be ok."

I don't know why, but suddenly an idea hits me. "What if the universe sent me here because it wants me to fight in the war?"

She shrugs. "I mean, maybe."

For some unfathomable reason, I'm glad she at least somewhat thinks it's a possibility. "So, I guess that means I'm fighting in the war."

"Not without me you aren't." The brunette stands up and places her bands on her hips.

"I can't ask you to go with me." Immediately, I shake my head, but she doesn't back down.

"I'm going, whether you like it or not."

I open my mouth to say something (probably some stupid reason as to why she shouldn't go), but Benji and Bumper come back downstairs. Bumper looks satisfied and a little amused, and Benji looks… well, he looks miserable.

Right away, he crosses over to Emily and wraps her up in a hug. "I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

She hugs him back softly. "I know. I trust you."

"We'll leave tomorrow morning at eight." Bumper tells Benji, who nods. He gives Emily a nasty grin, me a curt nod, and exits the house. All three of us involuntarily jump when he slams the door shut.

Benji, looking like he might be sick at any second, says, "I'm going to get some sleep." He looks me in the eye. "It was really nice to meet you, Beca."

I hold my hand out to him for another handshake, which he takes. "Ditto." When they give me confused looks, I realize they don't know what that means. "It was nice to meet you too. And good luck out there."

We watch him trudge back up the stairs. As soon as he's gone, Emily whispers, "we should probably pack some stuff for tomorrow."

I nod, realizing I'm not going to be able to convince her to stay. "If you die, it's not my fault."

She giggles. "Oh, it's totally your fault, but I'm ok with it."

As we make our way outside (where she's taking me, I don't know, but for some reason, I trust her), I ask, "forgive me for asking, but why are you married to your husband if you don't even like men?"

She glances over at me, but I can tell she isn't offended by my inquiry. "How do you know I don't like men?"

I shrug and laugh at the same time. "I'm the same way. Us lesbians can point each other out."

"It was an arranged marriage." She says. "We've been best friends our whole lives. Apparently, my father thought it was meant to be. I couldn't break his heart and tell him I only see Benji as a friend."

"I'm assuming you like your dad?"

From the look she gives me, I can tell she doesn't even think that's a question. "Of course I love him."

"Must be nice." I mutter, and she gives me another one of her confused looks. "My dad and I don't get along. Still to this day, he doesn't consider music a career. I haven't talked to him since graduating from Barden."

"And how long ago was that?" She asks softly, with a sympathetic look in her eyes. At least she doesn't look like she pities me.

"Five years, give or take." I shrug it off, trying to pretend it isn't as big of a deal as it really is.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers, looking down and biting her lip.

"Not your fault." I respond.

"I know, but still." Suddenly, she opens the door to a barn. I'm expecting to see animals, but I'm shocked to see suitcases, water, clothing, food, and any other essentials you could think of. "What is all of this?"

She laughs at my shocked expression and closes the door behind us. "Our emergency room. We can pack a bunch of clothes in the bags. We'll have to dress up as men, though?"

"Why?" God, I should have paid more attention in school.

"Um, because women aren't allowed to be in the military." She says it as if it's obvious.

"Sorry." I mumble. "They are where I'm from."

Her eyes widen. "Really?"

I almost laugh at her genuine amazement. "Yeah. They can also work, vote, and even run for office. Our vice president is a woman. She's black, too."

"That's… wow." I might be imagining it, but it looks like there's a tear in her eye. As soon as she blinks, though, it's gone.

"Yeah." I watch Emily as she starts cramming things into two separate bags. It's interesting, watching her move; she moves so fast, yet it's so graceful. Maybe it's that that leads me to ask, "do you dance?"

"What?" She laughs and turns to look at me. "Yeah, but-"

I don't need her to finish her question to know what she's trying to ask. "The way you move, it's almost as if you're moving to a beat only you can hear."

"It feels like that sometimes." She laughs humorlessly. "Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong century?"

This time, it's my turn to laugh. "Every day."

We pack the rest of the bags in silence, then go back into the house. Emily lays out some blankets and pillows for me, and I sleep on the couch. As I lay there, I can't help but hope this is some weird dream. That, when I wake up, I'll see Jesse and Chloe standing by my bedside and worrying about me.