Author's Note: So what do you think of the story so far? Pacing too slow or fast enough for you, feel like anything's missing-anything at all. Please let me know.
I love hearing from you guys. Keep the reviews coming! :D And because I'm an overeager beaver, I have this chapter and the next to follow soon...like maybe tomorrow soon. Because I like it when everyone's happy. :)) HA-Pee! pisssss!
Chap 13
The walls on this floor weren't the thickest to begin with, and with people inside the rooms not bothering to control their speaking, or in this case shouting volume, you and anyone within that particular vicinity could hear whatever was going on and what was being said quite clearly.
"Beca, where have you been?" Cameron asks, you can hear his fist pounding -on what you hope in one of the tables- lacing every other word of his sentence.
"Save it, dad." Beca says quick and dismissive-you can clearly picture her eye-roll, hear her scoff of indignation thrown in there.
Outside Conference room B12 it seemed like the entire building had come to a standstill as people surreptitiously stopped their tasks to listen in, glad to be firsthand witnesses to such celebrity drama.
"No, this behaviour isn't acceptable. You haven't been attending all the functions, you're constantly late to staff meetings. I had to look for you myself since you weren't answering any texts or calls from your assistant…" Cameron says, laying out each one of Beca's offenses, speaking with a very different tone than you normally heard-Almost warm, less measured and clipped. There was anger of course, but something else more poignant also lingered there.
"I was taking care of something." You let out a breath of relief at her covering up for you and your actions, It does nothing to alleviate the steadily growing guilt settling in the pit of your stomach..
"Always with the excuses! You better shape up your act young lady-"
"I'm not in the mood alright?" Beca's voice becomes clearer, louder. You can see her now. She hasn't completely stepped out of the room - she's hovering in the entrance - but she's ready to at any moment. She is quickly followed and stopped by Cameron.
"No. Fine you refuse to listen to me as your father and now I'm telling you as your boss...I know I have been absent from your life, but I demand respect. I may not know much about what's going on in your life right now, but the girl I raised wouldn't let anything get in the way of her profession and her dedication to her work. Where's your head these days?"
"Don't give me the I'm-so-disappointed-with-you crap 'cos I don't really care. I'm here aren't I? Let's just get straight to the meeting and not waste any more time." Her voice had a chilling edge trying to keep her anger in check. You know that she's making a supreme effort to remain calm, but her whole body's tense. Her hands are already shaking.
"No. Since you couldn't give us the courtesy of appearing on time, you're suspended. You won't get to attend the meetings or any Voice-related events, functions, shootings, unless you have an apology for the people who've been busting their asses covering up for your absences." Cameron says firmly, laying down the law.
It was like witnessing a car crash first-hand. The carnage and the violence and the impact left you shocked and yet you couldn't quite tear your attention away, as much as you really wanted to. And you were alone, witnessing everything. Aubrey had gone ahead; you parted with a hasty goodbye as you decide to stay, just in case Beca needed you.
"You can't do that!" Beca looks positively furious. She's screaming, overcome by her rage.
"I can't, can't I? Well I just did." Cameron's standing firm, refusing to back down as well. Like father like daughter. Then and there you could see the family resemblance. They were a picture of resoluteness, similar in the determined glint in their dark blue eyes, the set mouth. They stood facing each other- hands placed firmly on their hips- staring each other down, refusing to give way.
"No. I'll talk to Mark, to Jon." Beca's voice is shrill, almost desperate, grasping at straws, trying to find a way to get her way.
"They'll agree with me." Cameron sounds more tired, frustrated but less angry at this point. He makes a move, a last attempt to reach for Beca as a way of calming her down but she quickly almost forcibly pushes him away- deflecting him.
"No they won't. They practically begged me to be on the show. I'm one of the coaches-" Beca laughs derisively, trying to resume her usual confident air - but it sounds forced.
Cameron cuts across her "That was before you started. You're lucky if they'll let you keep the spot. You've yet to show them, to show me that you can take responsibility for your own actions, Beca."
"You can't tell me what to do anymore! And who are you to speak to me about responsibility, you didn't raise me, my mother did. You have no right whatsoever to even mention that to me. You may be my Father, but you aren't my Dad. You only act like it whenever it suits you. " Beca says slowly, fully intending for her words to hit him where it hurt. And she succeeds at the most part, Cameron's visibly upset- his face heavily lined- but it doesn't stop him from retaliating.
"You listen to me and you listen good. Out there, you can do what you like, since apparently I don't have a say anymore, but in here, under here and under me, you will listen. I expect commitment; I expect you to act professionally. And so basically, yes I can tell you whatever the hell I want!" Cameron shouts. You can almost feel the walls shaking, the sound reverberating all the way to where you are hiding.
You see a lot of people duck out of the way as Beca storms out of the room and into the hallway.
"What the hell are you all looking at?" Beca's face is set, barely controlling her rage. The onlookers all disperse. You try to shrink against the wall as she turns the corner and heads in your direction. She nearly passes you, but she stops and nearly bends over, breathing quickly, almost gasping for air. Your heart goes out to her. You approach her gently and put your hand on her back.
"Beca?" She flinches. She quickly looks up and her eyes are red, her emotions barely in check; she looks ready to break.
You pull her into the nearest bathroom and check that all the stalls are empty before you lock the main door. You hear the lock click successfully and you think she takes this as a sign that it was okay, that the coast was clear, as she collapses onto the floor in a heap. You hear her as she suddenly starts crying. You run over to her, concerned.
"Don't," she gets out, curling into herself, facing away from you.
"You don't," you say as you join her on the floor, forcing her to look at you. She's quieting herself, trying to muffle her crying. Right now you don't care that you're lying face down in one of the toilets, you only care that Beca is hurting.
You wrap your arms around her and she stiffens up, but you don't let go. She's too exhausted to even try pushing you away and so you continue holding her, rocking her.
And for the longest moment, all you hear is her choking down her sobs, feeling her shaking, but then, as she calms down, her breathing slows, becomes even-paced, but still laced with an occasional sniffle; a hiccough here and there.
Then, for an even longer time, silence.
You still feel her breathing, so you're not worried.
And then, out of the blue-
"I just hate that he can still do that to me, you know. Make me feel like crap for disappointing him. Whatever...I don't care about what he thinks."
You jump, a little bit shocked at her speaking after all the vacant silence. Her voice sounds hoarse.
"We both know that you care enormously about what he thinks," you gently say. And then, even softer still, "I'm sorry that I made you miss the meeting." You're saying it fervently. "I should've known you had something better to do." Her face is partly obscured by her hair, she's talking mostly to your stomach but you feel her warm, moist breaths on your lap- on your most sensitive area. Your body can't help it's response. You feel yourself clench starting from your stomach the white hot pang traveling everywhere. You feel a little bit ashamed feeling that, when right now you're supposed to be acting the friend comforting her, not someone who gets some weird enjoyment from the girl's most vulnerable state just because you get a free feel-up.
"Yeah, you're right. It is partially your fault. But, as you've noticed I haven't been particularly thrilled with the whole idea of working with him in general. That I'm forced to see him as often as I have to. Whenever there is a meeting with him in it I try to get out of them, or if I ever turn up, it's always at the very end." You shift her ever so gently, trying to move her away from that particular area.
"Isn't he present in most of the meetings?" you say idly, playing off your inner turmoil as she stays rooted on the spot.
"Exactly..." She's wiping furiously at her eyes, laughing bitterly. You pause to think of what to say next, frantically thinking of a way to open a new topic for conversation when-
"I know, you don't have to tell me I'm being stupid. I know I haven't been taking things seriously and I should just apologize and get it over with, I just don't like the idea that he thinks he can get one over me."
"It's just that every time I've ever felt bad about myself, or doubted myself, or felt insecure..." Beca swallows thickly, "…it was always his voice I heard. His voice always telling me that I wasn't worth staying for..." Her voice breaks, wavers and Beca's eyes are welling up once again, looking into yours for something to stop her pain And it's unfair really, because you already knew you were a goner when it came to her, but with Beca looking at you all broken, the most vulnerable you'd ever seen her, you know you are in real trouble now. And she's holding you as if by a chord. You're her life-line and she's holding you tightly to her.
You don't care that you've reached the point of no return. You know you've always had the option to get away, but you don't want to, you gave up on that idea a long time ago. You're entirely in it for the long haul.
You move her gently, changing your positions as you may be here for a while. You adjust your legs as you sit up and pull her so that she's lying on your chest.
"That's the first time he's shouted at me...since...ever. I just didn't think it'd hurt, that I'd get affected this much," Beca sniffles. "Especially with him saying all of those things."
You want to be the one Beca turns to whenever she needs advice. And here, you think, is a good time to prove how exemplary you were at giving it, far better you're sure, than Jesse.
"He was just acting the part of a Dad, of all parents with all the worrying, getting angry when worried, not listening to what you have to say, saying they won't judge and they'll listen but at the end they just shout at you and never give you a chance to defend yourself 'cos they think they're always right..."
You speak from experience. Parents could be so infuriating at times.
"Okay...So wait, you're saying you agree with me?" Beca says, looking deep into your eyes. You smile but shake your head.
"What I'm saying is that even the most perfect families have spats occasionally. Fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, parents and their children. It's normal since no one ever sees eye to eye on all things. My family, we can get into the most pointless arguments. You should see everyone together when we have gatherings. I have this one cousin, Janet, who'll pick a fight for no good reason," but you don't want to get into that, so you continue hoping you're making sense for Beca's sake "-But in the end, while they may be hard to get along with at times, they're still family. He's still your dad and I just know that in the end, whatever way he may choose to show it, he just wants what's right for you. He cares about you a lot, Beca. He loves you. You're his only daughter."
You can't be entirely sure that you're getting to her-you can no longer see her eyes-she had just burrowed, placed her head in the crook of your neck. You feel a tiny shiver when her lips brush against your skin. And you thought you had solved your problem.
She expels a large breath that does noting to help your current state. "I guess I haven't made it easy on him either..."
You're rubbing her back trying to give her the comfort she deserves. You chastise yourself for thinking only of yourself during a time like this.
"So, are you okay?" She nods tiredly, spent from crying, letting it all out. She's looking up at you. You resist the impulse to reach for her face and wipe away her tears. It takes so much effort that you physically ache inside.
"So, you ready to step outside? Ready to march into his office and apologise?" you say, squashing the other words threatening to pour out sounding a lot like I love you, choose me, marry me. Let me make you happy. Man you loved 'My Best Friend's Wedding', though you really believed that he should've ended up with Julia Roberts. Hello! the hot redhead should totally get the girl, you mean the guy.
"No-"
"No?" Oh shit. See, you sucked at giving speeches, you didn't help her at all. That's the last time you give out any advice. Or you probably had to do it better next time - if there ever was a next time that is…
"I'll have to fix up first. I probably look like crap." She's standing up.
"No," you say aloud, protesting the movement. So what if you were on the floor. Beca had been wrapped up in your embrace. Beca pivots, looking back at you questioningly.
"-You don't look like crap, what are you talking about?" you say, hoping that it sounded like a whole continuous sentence.
"Are you kidding me? Man, I look horrible." Not possible you think. Her nose is all red and so what if she looks less put together than usual, more flustered and her eye make-up has gone all over the place. To you, what difference does it make? It didn't matter, but Beca seemed to think it did so you provide the remedy.
"Here...I have my make-up on me. We'll fix that in a bit, just um splash your face first and, uh, gently pat - not rub - cold water underneath your eyes," you instruct, which Beca promptly follows. "Then, uh, dry off... with this." She does this for a few minutes. You thrust paper towels towards her and as soon as she finishes, she dabs at her face.
"All good?" she asks, smiling half-heartedly.
"With the smile, much better," you reply, but you notice a piece of tissue stuck just under her eye. You reach forward to pull it off, your fingers finally making the much desired contact with her face.
"What?" she asks nervously, jumping and pulling away from the contact.
"Hold still... Here," you say when you successfully get it off. "Don't be so jumpy. I'll be trying to salvage whatever you have on your face..."
"You make it sound like it's beyond saving..."
"No, just some touch-ups here and there..." You proceed to do so. You work on touching up her mascara and smudging the eyeliner. You work steadily, occasionally answering Beca's questions.
"Are you just winging it or do you really know what you're doing?"
"Trust me." She opens her eyes and narrows them.
"Fine, I uh read some article online. I've done it myself a few times, so close your eyes please. So we can get this done."
"What article?"
"The fashion spot one. Have you heard of it?" She shakes her head.
"Stop moving… Well what I'm following is what some NARS national makeup stylist, Jake Broullard, said to, which is to 'add a darker shadow around your lashes, top and bottom, and blend with a softer colour..." you dictate while you perform the actions. "-This will transform your teary eyes into sexy eyes." You also add concealer under the eyes and a little blush to cheeks and lastly, "perk up your look with a coloured eye liner." There, you're done. Not too shabby. "Viola! It is finished," you say, trying a French accent.
"Yeah I look...ready enough?" she says glancing at the mirror, dismissing your work and how beautiful a transformation you had accomplished.
"But do you feel ready?" you say prodding at her.
"Yeah...a little." Yeah that really convinced me. Hmm sarcasm you see the appeal.
"If I had Zaditor with me you could use it to get rid of the redness in your eyes, but its fine... You're fine." Mighty fine.
"What time is it?" she asks.
"Pretty late I think. They're probably locking up by now."
"Let's go then," she says, then tries the toilet door but doesn't go out.
"What?" you ask, wondering what was taking her so long, if she had suddenly gotten cold feet and needed some more time.
"Are you okay?'
"Yeah. Yeah... No, it's not me..."
"What is it then?"
"It's the door."
You make your way to the door and try the handle. It won't budge. "It's locked," you say, glancing questioningly at Beca who has a sombre expression on her face.
"Yeah I know... We're locked in."
A/N: Also thanks for the music suggestions, keep 'em coming I will try to use them if and when I can. I really loved listening to the ones you all have already suggested. Keeping an ear out for all kinds of music-I really do want to expand my horizons.
Have a hug and spread the love!
