Author's Note: Hello lovelies. Its been a while. I've been working on getting back to this story for so long (you guys have no idea)and finally finally I've gotten somewhere with it. I wanted to do a previously on but this is a long chapter as it is that I once again had to split into two.

I'll try to make this short and sweet but I wanted to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for all the reviews, the favorites and PMs asking me to continue this story. I wasn't able to reply to each and everyone of you but yes, I heard it all loud and clear. I'm only sorry it took this long.

I poured my heart and soul into this, I hope you guys can tell. Or not, its quite the mess, or so I would think. It's totally frustrating working on this, doing all the last minute corrections on my phone but beggars can't be choosers. This chapters been marinating in my drive for quite a while so I have loads of people to thank who helped me along the way. To the betas that came and went (waatp especially) and most recently Kristina, and to the people who offered help, I did appreciate the time and the little insights you gave regarding this chapter. So on with the show. I've kept you all waiting long enough.


Chap 30

Everything...

'You'll know everything.' That's what Beca had said last night. Or was that early this morning? It didn't matter, it was the last thing she'd said and those words, her voice continued to play on and on in your head.

You will know everything. No, really. How vague can a person get? Did the girl take a master class at being cryptic? She really had to know that she took it to the next level. What exactly did everything constitute; the question brought even more questions. A million possibilities of dark secrets ranging from normal to the implausible. You ran through each one in your thoughts.

Maybe Beca was bipolar. Or had a twin. Or possibly had that multiple personality disorder thing. Maybe Beca was a vampire, sired to Jesse. Actually you quite liked that one. Maybe she had sold her soul to the devil, Jesse, and she couldn't get out of the deal.

Yeah, you think your mother had been right to warn you about the perils of watching too much television as a kid. You can now see what it had done to you and what was left off your hyperactive brain.

Seriously, with what had transpired over the past week, over the past month even, there was a big gaping hole when it came to Beca and who she really was that made nearly all of those suggestions sound possible; you're banking on the last one. Jesse being the spawn of Satan or Lucifer himself made actual sense to you.

Back to his supposedly soulless friend, though.

What new mysteries was she hiding? What other layer would you peel back? What would it reveal?

With this girl, would there always be more unanswered questions?

You suppose that it had been part of her allure. It was what came with getting to know her, and before, when she was just an image in a magazine or the television. Those tiny pieces had been enough, but now it just gnawed at you. Like the annoying itch that's just out of your reach.

Everything...

You guess she meant it pertaining to the whole British-Jesse-incident thing, but why did it seem like she was hinting at something of an even greater significance than that?

Everything

All you know was that everything about these past few days had been a blur, a tumbled up mess. That mess had mostly consisted of Beca and you trying and failing to get anywhere with your- you no longer know what term to use to label what it is you have between the two of there even was anything worth labeling anymore, that is.

Everything, then, huh? It's quite the word, a word of a magnitude with its beauty hidden in meanings dependent on perspective, and yet it was exactly the word to use to pique your curiosity and your interest. It was also exactly what you had wanted and longed for the most, because after all this time and after all you had gone through and done with and for her, you had yet to really get to know her.

It's also quite the promise. One that, no matter how much you keep telling yourself to be open-minded to, is something you can't help but be wary of. One you can't help but question.

After all that had happened, you resigned to thinking, to accepting that it was just that way with some people in general, that you could never truly know someone you could share moments and those little snippets of information that tell you everything and nothing at the same time

All the more so with Beca who gave you little bits and pieces that you had to work hard for. Pieces you had to scramble to gather as she would always choose carefully how much or how little she would divulge. Maybe it was planned, maybe it was unknowing; you don't really know. You wonder if she knew of her own particular brand of evil, what with constantly keeping you hanging like this; always at an arm's length, all so you wouldn't expect too much from her, for you'd be grateful for the little she did give, for what she so generously handed.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind. Perhaps this could really be the furthest you could go with her. Maybe that's just how much she is able to give and maybe, just maybe, you already know, and will know much more than most people ever will. As long as you remind yourself why you were there, taking the time to drive over to meet her in the first place.

You wonder if that should warrant cutting her some slack and giving her the benefit of the doubt.

You think it's a small miracle that you don't crash Beca's car on the way, as overly distracted as you are by your own thoughts, though thankfully not enough to actually stop driving whilst subconsciously feeling your instincts take over as your mind wanders all over the place.

Over the last few hours, your mind had been buzzing with so many deep, dark and trying, as well as tiring, thoughts; the kind you really really want dispelled and gone. Not all your thoughts, though, no. Or the ability to think, mind you. Just the negative feelings it brought. That, and all the energy it sucked out.

You're pretty thankful for one thing; it's a rather seamless drive over to her pIace, and also quite surprising considering the fact that you had been there exactly once.

You make it to Beca's in what feels like no time at all; granted you did get lost a couple of blocks back, but going through the security was surprisingly fast. It was almost as if you were streamlined and the mention of your name automatically opened all the gates for you.

When you close in and the familiar gate appears, you begin to retract that feeling, and the relief you feel after getting there without so much as a hitch starts to fade fast, changing to one of dread.

That was too fast a trip.

Now that you're already there, your nerves heighten and you feel like it's getting the best of you.

Before you know it, you're within the compound. A man in a uniform offers to take the car and the keys, and slips in the driver's seat to park it. You're left there standing by the porch and you suddenly feel your nerves start to spike even more, wondering if it's too late to turn back now. You could probably still make a run for the car and drive off. Oh yeah, small problem. There is a slight hitch in your otherwise ingenious plan; it's Beca's car.

And then you wonder. Why are you so anxious now that you actually have the chance to hear the truth?

Everything. It's going to be big, isn't it? Whatever she was meaning to tell you, it would change everything. Is this where the sudden nerves came from?

You gather your thoughts, composing yourself before you raise your hand to the door ready to knock. So much could happen, so much could change. You feel it, but are you ready for it?

You're already into the act of knocking. Once, twice. Softly first, but then you're thinking. 'Of course she couldn't hear it, being in such a big house and all', and so you stop gently caressing the door with your knuckles and strike it with your balled fist. Not too hard, though. After all you don't want to alarm the security.

Nothing.

*knock knock*, and then again, sadly, to no response. You look around for some aid, you look to the cameras situated every which way that you're sure are capturing your every move.

Was this Beca's idea? A part of another one of her sick jokes, maybe? She was expecting you, wasn't she? The guards did let you in.

You opt to try again, this time you're fully determined to be heard over whatever noise was keeping anyone inside from responding. Now you're quite positive you are pounding at the door, the pounding you feel reverberating almost as loud as your too anxious heart.

*thump. thump. thump. thump. thwack*

You hear the sound moments before your brain takes in what had happened and you almost have an out-of-body experience; you see, feel, and sense it all as in a slow motion, while you're knocking the door abruptly, suddenly gets pulled open and your hand, now well-acquainted and expecting to be meeting the cool wood, now meets Beca's face instead. And meets it hard.

Sickeningly hard.

There's quite a pause when your tummy does that nervous swoop, almost disappearing altogether. Your entire body is rigid, positively frozen, not believing what had just happened.

Yep, you'd just punched Beca straight in her nose.

Your mouth's gaping, unable to form words.

Beca's still able, though.

"Fu-Ow-" she softly comments, bringing both hands up so as to hold on to her nose as her eyes start watering. You quickly drop your hand. Your mouth falls open and and your eyes widen.

"Beca! I'm so- Ohmygod. I can't believe I actually-"

She quickly steps aside. Her eyes are squeezed shut, face contorted in pain. "Ow!" She says a little louder as she touches her nose tenderly. "I knew you were angry, but I thought the violence would come much, much later." Her voice sounds muffled, almost as if as if she caught a cold all of a sudden.

"It's okay, you can still come in." She says,though a bit warily, noticing you standing there watching her her in horror. She then ushers you inside. "I mean, please do come in. I meant to welcome you in an enthusiastic fashion, but…" She closes her eyes, keeping in the tears. "I think I need an icepack for my nose. Possibly even something for a nosebleed I feel coming- no, wait. Yup, there it is. Excuse me for a moment."

She quickly turns, her her nose is tenderly pinched between two fingers, her her head tilted backwards while she's moving towards the direction of what you remembered to be the kitchen, leaving you at the entrance to to stare in slight shock after her retreating figure.

That so did not start the way you'd'd thought it would. You quickly shake your head, trying to regain your senses, then gently close the door and quickly follow after her.

"Becs?" You call out, mystified as your voice echoes throughout the seemingly empty house. You call for her, but really you're at a loss for words and don't know what to say. This is so horribly, horribly awkward. Not to mention wrong. Not exactly the best first step in whichever peaceful direction of reconciliation this whole day was supposed to be going.

You know that you really want to apologize. You are feeling oh so guilty about how it all transpired, but you can't get past seriously doubting that that had actually happened. It's a complex layer added to your already precariously tipping tower of confusing feelings. One good shove and you think you'd crack; another breakdown might be in order.

There should be a flashing sign above your head that says: 'WARNING: under extreme emotional distress-nerves completely shot.' Yup, that was never good for anyone. Even less so now and especially for Beca who, unfortunately, got the brunt of it.

What's more than upsetting as you near the kitchen, is that you find yourself fighting down the strong urge to laugh and you're feeling yourself coming so close to losing it. You think it's an awful combination of nerves and a slight hysterical amusement at how absurd the situation is a true testament to how weird, entirely unbelievable, and, in Beca's case, painfully awkward your interactions were now.

You come up to the kitchen a couple of seconds after Beca. You see the familiar backdrop and can't help but feel comforted and nostalgic all at once. Your eyes sweep across the room, not seeing any changes; it could've been yesterday when you hung out here with Marie as you chatted about Beca over breakfast. You see the familiar 'Marie's special' treat of breakfast food all laid out on the table, and you see Marie herself standing there in her apron and oven mitts.

"What happened!?" Marie asks worriedly, eyebrows knotted together as she's looking up midway through her ongoing breakfast preparations; setting the French toast, then expertly turning over one of the pieces of the frying bacon as she watches Beca rushing to the fridge, pulling out the ice pack and placing it on her face. Marie turns off the stove and moves closer to Beca. She pulls off the ice pack so that she could better assess the damage. Your stomach churns with guilt and a sudden spike of the well-remembered fear from when you were younger and used to get in trouble.

"It was an accident!" You quickly say, practically half-shouting, alerting them of your presence in the room. They both turn to you as you make your way inside. You clear your throat. "It's a very, uh, odd... a very, um, hard to explain story. I mean accident." You say, your voice softening as you answer Marie's curious stare.

"Yes, a complete accident. Chloe mistook my face for the door." Beca comments wryly as she sits down and leans her head back, sighing as she gingerly places the ice pack back on her face, but not before softly refusing Marie's attempts to fuss over her some more. "But, yep. I'm fine, Marie. Sorry to interrupt the breakfast preparations."

More frown lines appear on Marie's face as she looks between the two of you.

"Well, yeah. That's kinda… the gist of it." You breathe out, feeling agitated and wired, jumpy almost.

"Wait, let me see if I understand… what you're saying is that you accidentally hit Beca's face?" She says slowly and you can hear the restraint, see how Marie's trying to look fair. You can see she's holding back any judgement, then shakes her head. "Could you say that again? I don't think I heard that or understood any of it correctly." Marie says, sparing glances whilst proceeding to multitask, resuming from where she left off, and moving quickly while dishing out the food and distributing it onto the platters.

"I was at the door, knocking, you know, ¨cause that's what you're supposed to do," you say, trying but failing to keep your tone light, attempting to lighten the matter up some. You wait a beat for anyone to crack a smile. You know it was a weak attempt, but you can't help the rambling and goofing off in serious moments. "Though, I guess I was doing it a tad bit more enthusiastically, insistently…"

"Impatiently." Beca mutters, Your tummy twists. You push through it, slowly trying to explain away what had happened, so as to plead your innocence to Marie.

"'Cause no one was answering after the first few knocks, and I was getting a bit antsy, also...a little paranoid." Beca snorts and that makes your eyebrow rise; an indication your annoyance is next few words come out with a little more attitude.

"...when Beca pulled the door open, and then, like Beca said... it was her face my hand made contact with…" You say, stalling for a little bit only to let it all out in one breath."...Iendedupknockingonheface…"

"Slowly dear, I didn't quite catch that part," Marie requested softly, her tone still patient while half-distracted as she lays the remaining food out, then surveying the table she wipes her hands on her apron before once and for all turning to you.

"I ended up...knockingonherface…" you blurt out, wincing at your choked unintelligible words, no less nervous now that you had Marie's full attention.

Her eyes are patient and kind, encouraging. "Breathe, and now try it again slowly..."

"I ended up…. knocking…. on... her…face…" you confess.

Marie's no less confused, her forehead creases some more as she alternates between looking at her ward and you.

Beca sits up for a moment, long enough to demonstrate it. Balling up her fist, then bringing it to her face in a knocking motion.

The nervous laugh you'd been holding in suddenly bursts free; it escapes without you even meaning it to.

"I'm so sorry," you say, eyes wide when it happens. You try and bite your lip hard to stop, but you can't seem to, because Beca's face is just… priceless, all red and flushed. You're almost impressed at how quickly her face changed color. She's so mad, like freakishly so. You can almost imagine the cartoon-like steam wheezing out of her ears.

At the same time, you can't help but notice that she looks so adorable getting all riled up. Even in its annoyance and embarrassment, she desperately tries to make sure her proud, dignified demeanor still holds up, and yet she fails terribly. She really does look like a little kid, pouting over not getting her way and is on the brink of throwing a tantrum.

You stop for a second, but then there you go again. It doesn't really help in the slightest that as of now there is the addition of what looks to be two cotton swabs stuck way up her bloody nose.

All of a sudden, you hear a choked sound coming from Marie. Both you and Beca turn to her in alarm, your laughter tapers down seeing Marie's flushed face as well,

"You accidentally knocked on Beca's face? Oh dear, that's pretty out there, isn't it?" Pretty soon Marie joins in, laughing heartily and you get another laughing fit mostly from the relief more than anything else. Plus it's always better laughing together with someone else.

Though that's not to be said about the one that's not included, more so the one who was the but of the joke.

Beca's stony face steadily becomes more and more annoyed as she watches you both.

"You do have quite the arm, Chloe. I thought that you two had gotten physical, but she really did knock you about, didn't she, Becky?"

"You could say that 'she didn't know what hit her'!" You add.

"Right on the nose, right on the nose," Marie says.

Between the two of you, you laugh yourselves senseless. Somewhere at the very back of your mind, you do feel like you're not helping at all in alleviating the situation. You wipe away a tear as you both try to catch your breath.

"Are you both about done now?" Beca asks, her face stiff and her voice clipped.

"Sorry, dear." Marie says clearing her throat. "It's just, you don't really… ahem… hear that kinda thing happening often."

"Yeah, because that kind of thing doesn't happen, or rather, it isn't supposed to happen under normal circumstances. Only someone blind, with zero hand-to-eye coordination or the worst reflexes in the history of the world would make that mistake." Beca snaps, effectively jolting your laughter and erasing any calm that had settled.

"Only someone extremely vertically challenged would be of the same striking distance height as my arm." You slam back hard.

"Beca, Chloe, dear…" Marie tries to intervene,

"Only an idiot would continue knocking when they saw the door moving. Yes, the door was moving, not my face… those are two different things if you can't tell."

"Beca Marie Mitchell-" Marie warns with a soft edge to her voice.

"Well, it's easy to get them confused; hard, thick-skinned, wooden and unfeeling. Practically the same thing." You say it under your breath just loud enough to be heard.

You take the seat opposite of Beca. You sit calmly, neither of you looking at the other, and you're still awaiting her comeback, but it never comes. You think Marie's less than pleased countenance is the reason why Beca's holding her tongue. You guess Beca would let it simmer just for a bit. You let a smirk creep onto your face at your little triumph.

"Excuse me, I need another towel or some… other thing." Beca gets up abruptly, pushing her chair so that it scrapes against the floor.

"You should carry your chair, young lady." Marie is quick to reprimand Beca who is equally as quick to follow. She does as asked, but then leaves the room in a huff.

Marie resumes cooking breakfast where she left off while you try your best to appear like everything is going exactly the way it should.

You sit quietly, surrounded by the sounds and smells of the ongoing preparations. You try to find some comfort in it, try to push away the heavy feeling that's settling in your gut, something that felt a lot like remorse.

The seconds stretch as you try and pretend that it's not a tense awkward silence that follows, you open your mouth to attempt to break it, but are beaten to the punch.

"So, long time no see, Chloe dear. You're looking well," Marie says warmly enough, but you notice the expression on her face; a twist to her mouth, a mix of displeasure and something else. She looked ready to chastise you, but behind it was also something, a lingering tiredness and deep sadness.

You immediately feel even more embarrassed, knowing that she had been a witness to all of that, that she had heard all of that You immediately feel bad, sufficiently chagrined. Not entirely about what you had said, mind you, because Beca surely deserved some of it, but that she had to hear you talking smack about Beca. You don't think you can apologize enough to Marie for your behavior. It was easily the worst display of your character and you wonder what Marie thought of you, now that you had not only socked Beca in the face, but had thoroughly badmouthed her as well. In the spirit of moving past it all, though, you try to move forward by carrying a semi-normal conversation.

"You too, Marie. How have you been? I mean, besides what happened just now. I'm hoping there weren't any other lively disturbances to your normal daily activities."

She chuckles tiredly, shaking her head. "I can't say there has been any other that I can think of... and about me, well, I've been better, dear." You open your mouth to reply, but Marie looks like she has more to say, so you stop. "Of course, my body ain't what it used to be, but I still got a lot of fight left in me."

You nod again, stifling the urge to comment, but you do notice that Marie seemed to have lost some weight since the last time you saw her. You feel a flash of worry, feeling partly responsible for the taut lines marring her face and the heaviness in which she carried herself. The worry deepens the more you observe her. Her eyes are withdrawn, dulled and troubled, lost deep in her own thoughts.

"I still have a lot to do, more to take care of before I bite the dust. There are people I need to guarantee that even when I'm gone they'll both be fine, that they'll find happiness… together."

Your ears prick up.

Was she talking about you and Beca? No way! Or was she, maybe, talking about Jesse and Beca?

You open your mouth, not sure how to ask, but Marie seems to be on a roll.

"It's been a difficult road for these two and it almost seems like their problems are never-ending with yet a trickier path up ahead." You can't help the involuntary shiver at her bleak foretelling of this supposedly doomed couple's fate.

"Especially since I know that one of them's too stubborn to admit when she's scared, or when she's helpless. She's the same bullheaded girl that's scared of wanting things too much, because she's convinced that she doesn't deserve to be happy, and who's scared of being attached, of feeling too much and losing control. The one who can't keep a level head and acts out when she's frightened that she's losing someone she loves so dearly. And then there's the other girl-"

'Wait a minute, she said 'girl', right?' You tense all over. What was it that Marie was doing? Did she know about how you really felt about Beca? Was this her way of telling you off? Would she call you out on it and tell you to leave the happy couple alone? To never bother them again?

"This dear girl loves wholly, uninhibitedly, and selflessly. I asked her to be patient once," Your head jerks up, startled at her words and their weight. She gives you a half-smile. "...but right now she most likely feels like her patience is running out. It's been tried and tested, and she feels like she's already given too much, and that she's lost part of herself in the process." You feel your breath hitch and your chest tighten.

Marie sits close to you, reaches for your hands and gently holds them in her own. "That girl deserves to be happy. To be set at peace. She- you deserve to know the truth." She taps gently at your hands before releasing them, it doesn't keep them from twitching with renewed anxiety.

Somehow you're not certain how you should react. This is what you wanted right? Answers, the truth. But there are always questions, so many of them. Which or What or even who's truth exactly? And was Marie the one supposed to give or even deliver them?

Marie's eyes are intimidating in their directness, "Chloe, my Becky- Beca, as you know, is a very…" she pauses, looking for an appropriate word, "complex girl, serious and withheld."

'Uh-huh, that's putting it mildly. On a bad day, Beca sometimes comes off more robot-like or as a mannequin than an actual person.' You muse.

She smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes."She wasn't always this guarded with who she was and with her secrets. Admittedly, she has always been very mature for her age, but in the beginning she was just like any other happy-go lucky girl. Our little Miss Becky." Marie shakes her head while laughing softly, lost in memory lane, remembering a younger, less jaded Beca. You allow a tentative smile to peek out at this.

"She was this wondering, determined, fiery little thing. Passionate with both her loves and hates." Marie lets out a long heavy sigh, longing apparent in her face, "But then to understand her you have to understand that she had an early start in this business. She had to grow up and quickly to meet the demands of her craft to get where she wanted to be, especially as fast as she did."

"And she was dealing with it, having fun with it even and she was in a good place." Her eyes grow hot with anger, with a hint of defeat. "That was until- well, after her Dad had left, she retreated into herself. She became more single minded and even more determined. She wanted to prove something to Cameron, to everyone, to herself." Her voice wavers. "She then began to isolate herself or do without, simple pleasures, and for most of her life she'd closed doors on making connections with people outside of her intimate circle."

"Renee, her mom, was the only one who could ever coax out little glimpses of the old carefree Beca. They were very close." You feel your throat constrict and your eyes water despite the smile you had on, "Becky absolutely adored her, and Renee her." Marie's voice gets choked up, her wise eyes filling with tears, "We were all devastated when she got diagnosed with cancer, but Beca took it the worst. She didn't know how to deal." Marie's voice breaks, giving away her distress as she trembles..

Your first instinct is to run over and comfort her, but Marie holds up a hand to signal she was okay before she continues speaking. "At first she was angry, she didn't want to accept it. She shut us all out and we didn't know how to reach her."

Your heart aches at Marie's words. Perhaps it was you who needed comforting the most, you wish to extend your longing for a comforting contact elsewhere. Maybe even Beca.

"She got over her anger, of course, but she maintained that wall and hid her emotions away. Somehow she'd kept it all bottled in. She put on a brave face, she became a steady support for everyone. She never let that mask off even when she was with Renee."

"Renee always worried about her. She never wanted any of this for Beca. Long before she'd stopped responding to the treatments, she begged me to make sure our girl would be okay. She prayed that Beca wouldn't lose sight of the important things, that she'd somehow find true contentment."

"We lost Renee that same year Becky won her first Grammy and her career started picking up."

You nod along sadly, heart clenching all the more, breath catching. You feel like there's a shard of glass lodged somewhere in your chest. You remember her emotional acceptance speech that year. You remember tearing up at her touching words, the shared pain heavier with knowing that it was the same year you lost your grandfather.

She releases a heavy sigh. "Beca never really got the time to mourn, she merely burrowed herself into more work."

You feel a pang of guilt as you remember yourself to had been one of those people who feared for Beca quitting the limelight, and had hoped and prayed that she wouldn't disappear.

"And for a while it seemed like it was enough; a concert here, an album release there, promotions, guestings. She claimed it was what she needed. Time passed and it got a bit better. Beca was happy somehow, content somewhat with all her hard work finally paying off. She was reaping the benefits and going about her life."

"Until now. With The Voice and all the contestants, with all the changes in her life… and you actually being the tipping scale in it all."

You feel a hard jolt. It is almost like a kick to your stomach.

"I'm sorry she's having a hard time with-" you stop yourself and shake your head, wanting to start anew. "I'm sorry I messed up her life," you say with your voice guilt you never really let yourself acknowledge is finally breaking to the surface.

"No, no of course you didn!" Marie comes close, grabbing at your hands and squeezes them. "I wasn't blaming anything on you. How could I? I was thanking you, Chloe." Her eyes shine brightly with unshed tears. "I asked you once to stay, to not go on and disappear on her. A lesser person would have."

'A smarter, less pathetic person would've.'You think to yourself, but you shake your head and bite at your lower lip, willing the trembling to stop and for your eyes to stop watering.

"You stayed, and no matter what had happened, you need to know that you've had only the best, positive influence on her; getting her to open up, getting her to stop being so serious and distanced from things. You're letting her feel. She almost seems like herself again."

"Marie-," you say weakly, trying to get her to stop, not being able to handle her gratitude and praise. She didn't know that you were so close to giving up.

But her words are reeling you back in against your better judgement.

"And it may not seem like it, but Beca cares. She cares too much. She's not… she feels that if she showed it, it would be a weakness to be used against her. A lot of people have done it before, and even now with Jesse…"

What was that about Jesse?

You shake your head. Your mind is too overwhelmed to think anything through, your emotions too heavy to even bear.

"Marie, I don't know-," you pause, "Why are you telling me all this?"

She looks to you with a deep sadness, and at that very moment you know she knows. Somehow you already know what's she's asking of you.

"She's difficult and headstrong, and she takes a while, but she does come in her own time, and I know that she cares about you very deeply. I'm just begging for you to see it through. It's not completely hopeless," she pleads desperately.

"I just-," you sigh, "It's all complicated right now, with Beca and I."

"Why should it be? You care about her." She smiles that sly, conspiring, knowing smile.

"I don't-"

"You're in love with her." You shiver delicately as the words were spoken out loud, your truth finally all out in the open. Marie smiles sadly. Her expression not leaving room for you to even try denying it.

She knew. About you... how you felt and she didn't hate you for it.

"And Becky isn't as indifferent to your affections as it might seem. She loves you and needs you more than you even know, Chloe."

Your heart beats wildly not knowing how to take the words in, whether to believe them or not. On one hand Marie's the one who truly knows Beca, who sees all, and Marie isn't cruel enough to give you false hope, but on the other hand there's no more room in your life for bitter disappointment. It had to come from Beca herself, nothing more and nothing less.

"I appreciate what you're sharing about Beca, I really do, but I just can't… do… She- I honestly don't… know what I want to happen anymore."

The situation was messy, Beca was messed up, and you were beyond messed up now. Invested, despite and inspite of it all.

"The two of you can work this out. Well, it's mostly Beca that has a lot to work on."

You don't know what alerts you of her presence. There may have been this prickle of heat, or electricity, or the feeling you get whenever you felt her eyes on you, but then you quickly look from Marie to the doorway that Beca had previously exited from, expecting nothing, only to find the subject of your conversation and her stormy blue eyes standing there once again.

And such a storm those dark eyes promised. If one were to look closely they'd see swirling of a thousand different emotions, all strong and thundering. All miraculously yet just barely kept in check.

"Oh, don't mind me. Do carry on. I'm glad you're not wasting time before you catch up on the latest Beca gossip." Beca says glibly, though her face is twisted in anger.

You and Beca share a loaded glance and you're desperately trying to smother your panic. Did she hear everything? It seems not, for all you can read in her is anger laced with what seems like a similar shade of your own panic reflected there. You aren't certain and Beca quickly turns the direction of her gaze, now focusing on looking harshly at Marie.

"Beca, honey, I was just trading pleasantries with Chloe. We were just catching up."

"Exchanging pleasantries now means comparing notes about how much of a screw up I am, I suppose. Also, yes, my nose is fine, thank you both for caring enough to ask." Beca says. You let out a breath of air, relieved that Beca had only seemed to hear the last part of the conversation. She stomps angrily into the room causing quite the ruckus.

"I thought the ice pack would've cooled you down by now." You try going back to teasing and and being funny again, anything to cover up how scared you'd been for a moment at Beca hearing that you were in love with her.

"Yeah, I'm glad to know this is all a huge effing joke to you." Beca says before slumping into the chair furthest from you. With that being said, you know she's making a supreme effort to keep her anger in check if she's withholding from swearing.

"You can tone down the attitude, young lady, Chloe apologised. We're sorry we laughed Becky."

"Well in case any of you failed to notice, I'm still in pain-"

'Crybaby!' You think with some sly amusement.

"And we were talking, so thanks for interrupting." You say answering back just as snidely.

"Well, I don't appreciate the two of you talking about me behind my back," Beca says swiftly getting to her feet, pushing her chair so violently it topples over. She quickly, somewhat shakily lifts it back up.

"Would you rather we do so with you in the room?" You ask sarcastically.

"Girls! What is with the two of you?!" Marie asks chastising, and instead of heeding the warning tone and bowing out, the two of you continue quarreling, one advancing upon the other.

"She started it! She punched me-"

"'Strongly knocked' are the words I would use, and also like I said, it was an accident. I was aiming for the door, your face just got in the way."

Somehow the trivial fighting of it all made more sense. It felt and made things easier. It was easier than dealing with the heavier emotions that threatened to completely overwhelm you with each passing second.

"You're not even acting apologetic!" Beca huffed.

"Well, I am!"

"Yes, your loud, obnoxious hyena laughter was the perfect proof of that!"

"Well, I was! However, the feeling's completely faded away now." You grit out.

"Would the two of you please act your ages?!" Marie finally bursts, putting her foot down. Her 'I've had it' commanding voice effectively silencing the both of you.

"Sorry, Marie." You and Beca chorus chagrined.

"Two full grown adults hashing it out like a bunch of five year olds." Marie adds. You chance a glance at Beca who's looking resolutely at the ground, when her gaze flickers over she narrows her eyes at you while you roll your eyes in silent retaliation.

"Now the two of you apologize to each other like the mature people I know you to be."

"Why do I need to-" Beca protests astounded, her mouth hanging open. You scoff loudly. Marie looks like she can't believe her ears.

"She's our guest-"

Beca's eyes cut to you, forthright in her anger.

"And last time I checked guests don't hassle the hosts, or overstay or even abuse their welcome. Like seriously, not even past the door and you immediately mess things up!" You feel your body tense, your face pale, hands grow clammy and colder in response.

"Beca-" Marie warns too late.

"Fine, I'll leave then." You say keeping your voice low, devoid of any emotion. "You forget I came here, because you wanted a chance to explain." You say with hopefully a level of dignity, standing up steadily, glad that your legs weren't as shaky as how you felt inside.

You face the floor, not needing anyone to see how desperately you were holding back from crying. You feel a hand-hers- reaching to take hold of your arm, but you yank it away.

"It was really great seeing you Marie, and thanks for setting all of that. I can't- I don't know why I even came. This was a waste of time. I have to go-," you stammer out before your throat closes up and betrays you, feeling foolish when you still get the tiny twist of regret in your belly. It's tiny, but it's still there.

You push it away. You quicken your steps, wanting to put as much distance between Beca and you as possible.

You don't get far, though. You've barely walked three steps when you hear footsteps. You break into a brisk walk now.

"Chloe- No, wait! I'm so- stop! Can you please stop?!" You speed up, running now, ignoring her. Her pleading goes on till you're by the door.

"Chloe. Shit. I'm sorry, alright? I fucked up!"

Determination is coursing through you as your hand's prying the door open, foot ready to step out, door banging loudly against the wall during your less than graceful exit.

"Don't you walk away from me!" You can hear the raw emotion in her voice. Something like agony, or maybe desperation, that's suddenly there. It startles you, jerks your head involuntarily to stop, to look, to face her direction.

Her face is strained and she's breathing hard, almost heaving. Her eyes, normally so steely and piercing, are soft around the edges, red and watery.

You continue to observe her while waiting. The both of you are just there at another standoff. An almost silent, if not for the heavy breathing of you both, yet a less dramatic one. It's more of a final call, the time to show cards. To give up and let things play out as they should. To let things be or to see them finally fall into place.

"You... can't just walk away leaving everything unresolved." she says, almost breathes out, sounding desperate.

You feel laughter once again forming, but this one's a dry bitter one. This one's harsh and cutting.

"Wow. Seriously? That's fucking rich coming from you!" You all but spit out. "You're my mentor, right? Don't you think I'm doing a good job following in your footsteps, Coach Mitchell?"

She winces, but her eyes remain closed tightly. "Don't-!" She starts.

"Don't what?" You ask.

Beca's eyes burst open. "Please, don't start… I don't want to do this anymore." Her voice wavers.

"Then stop aggravating me! Stop setting me off!" You flounder once again, biting back a harsher comeback, feeling a whiplash at her sudden change in demeanor.

You hear more than see her take several quick steps closer, and then she stands within inches of you. The suddenness and the overwhelming effect of her proximity startles you into silence and makes you back up. Your back's against the wall or the door in this case both in the literal and figurative case.

"I don't want to keep having all these meaningless, petty, stupid little fights," she breathes raggedly. Her hot moist breath and her warmth is washing over you, crowding you.

'Then why do you keep starting them?' Bubbles at the top of your tongue.

"Out fights are stupid and meaningless to you now?" You say, though at this point you're just scrambling to regain your confidence. You're trying to act like none of this, none of what Marie had said and what Beca was doing, was getting to you.

"No- no, of course they mean something. I just… can we stop doing this? I don't know what's up with us. Why does every conversation immediately take a turn for worse? I mean, why must we always- why do all our interactions seem so off? This used to be-" she pauses, searching for the right word.

"Easier…" you exhale, completing her sentence and she slowly nods, her eyes not leaving yours. Both of you start talking at the same time.

"Chlo-"

"Bec-"

You stop and nod at her to speak first, she swallows before speaking.

"I was being an idiot-"

"Finally something we agree on," you mutter.

Beca holds her hand up, though, insisting she wasn't finished yet. "A complete pigheaded insensitive ass. And Aubrey was right, you're better off staying away."

"You've got that completely right; two for two," you say. You notice her mouth twitch and yours does too.

"But excluding the last part of the sentence, you gotta admit that as far as being an ass goes, which you so were, you were being a complete meanie."

"Hey!" You protest. As she raises an eyebrow, you close your mouth. You guess she was right; there were a hundred better ways you both could've handled the situation earlier.

"We've become completely inept asses at this whole talking thing. We used to be able to talk…" she stops. Bea clears her throat, rubs her nose and sighs as her voice wavers. "And now we- well I- I just can't seem to say or do the right thing, or anything to and by you anymore. It's not you… it was never you. Marie's right, I'm the one who keeps messing up," she says, her voice tight.

You don't want to point fingers anymore. It hurts, because it's true, and with the new development in your relationship you started to waver in the ways that had made you bond and become close in the first place.

Now all your conversations jumped into deep serious waters, what with the both of you struggling. Beca with her fronts and her barriers, and you being overly emotional made things worse, ending with both being hurt instead of being open to the other. Your defensive walls and maneuvers, Beca closing up or acting out and you being an emotional wreck, constantly kept getting in the way.

"It's just things are... different than before. Have been for quite a while now, I guess." You say.

That's quite the understatement.

"I know, but through it all, I hoped…" she cuts herself off. "I hoped we'd still be us. I mean we're Beca and Chloe, right?"

She looks to you almost in a confirmation, as if asking if that was still a thing. If it meant anything. If it carried any profound weight.

Beca and Chloe.

Chloe and Beca.

Beca.

Chloe.

Those girls could very well be complete strangers to you right now.

It takes you a second to nod in agreement, though what else could you have done? You have been starting to doubt things, because of how confusing and messed up everything had become, and because, more often as of late, the path that had once been so clear - you getting together with Beca obviously being the end game - all seemed way too unrealistic.

Lately, everything kept getting in the way, obscuring, blocking and fogging it all up, and Beca sensing and just knowing, being more aware of that, answered her own question.

"We can still be us. I know we're still us. Y'know, despite everything that has gotten in the way…" she breathes heavily and has an unsure smile on now. She lets out an equally unsure chuckle.

"I hate to sound so… needy or whatever, but can I just say: I'm standing here right now. The truth is, I just really missed this, just being near you- as I always do." She reaches for your hand, but thinks better of it and just clenches her hand, letting it fall to her side. She rubs her face, looking very uncomfortable after her confession. She looks to you and her face changes colors. You're not sure what expression she sees in your face to make it change so.

Was it impassive? Unimpressed?

Somehow you'd gotten better at concealing your true emotions. Her eyes are boring into yours trying to get a read on you.

"I'm sorry, I sound so damn cheesy. Like something straight out of a Nicholas Sparks movie trailer," she mutters but then shrugs. You almost smile. "But I'll plow through all this just so I can be completely honest. I'm trying not to be a total complete wreck. I hadn't really gotten much sleep as I was thinking everything over. Plus, it's always harder when you're actually here in front of me..."

You nod in understanding, a signal for her to go ahead and to get to the point, to cut her rambling short.

"Whenever I'm away, when I'm not with you, everything feels..." she takes a shaky breath, her throat bobbing, "Less. Less happy, less bright, just less… I feel less, sorta incomplete. I felt it so strongly when I was in England which is weird 'cause I never get homesick anymore. Travelling, as you know, is part of the perks of the job. It's the being away from someone, the yearning, or pining for someone that's somewhat new to me. I haven't had someone that I'd want to come home to so badly in a while. I meant it when I said it then, and I mean it even more so now. I really miss us. I miss us being together, and how easy and just so right everything felt when I had you by my side."

"I do-" 'do too' leaps unboundedly to your mind. You tamper down the yearning, holding yourself together. "-not know what to say…" You recover.

"You don't have to say anything. Just, please, stay. I invited you here, because I really wanted us to talk," she smiles wryly, "And look, we're finally getting around to doing it. 'Twas a rough start, but I think we're on to something." She half whispers.

You feel your eyelids flutter shut for a mere second, immersing yourself in her words, breathing them in. What she had just said, as well as the tone she said it in, pitched low and is having quite the effect on you. Its making you feel loose, and gooey also kind of weak. Your eyes lazily open to make direct contact with hers. At the same time you both seem to notice how close in proximity you were to one another and for a moment you're sure her eyes drop down to your lips. Her gaze seems to fall even lower to where your shirt is scooped just a little too low. Your throat feels dry, then her eyes raise to yours again,

Her eyes are piercing yours and you lose yourself in those dark blues, heart speeding then almost stopping altogether at seeing her pupils blown open. You feel your breath hitch.

A sound of someone clearing their throat is heard from somewhere behind you pulling you from your Beca-induced haze. You turn, a young-ish lady you don't recognise with platinum blonde hair and secretary glasses stands there, looking unsurely between the two of you.

"Miss Beca, we need um- the designs need your approval."

Beca takes a deliberate step away from you and merely nods in acknowledgement. "Okay, Francine, I'll be there." She looks mildly annoyed, but also relieved for some reason. Francine smiles, then leaves in the direction of the living room. Beca looks after her for a moment, then exhales heavily, letting out a long gust of air.

"So, we can… continue that later. The serious stuff will have to wait till then," She says to you, coming close once more, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. She hesitates slightly before she continues to cup your face, her fingers lightly caressing your jaw.

You're holding your breath, feeling your skin tingle and heat up in response to her touches before the both of you seem to come to your senses. You all but pull your face away and she quickly drops her hand before stepping backwards, putting more space between you.

'Why later?' Your thoughts betray you, making you aware of your true feelings. You can't help wanting all the answers right here and now, a couple of other things as well as you find yourself taking your own turn at leering, greatly appreciating Beca's house clothes; shorts and a crop grey tee, liking what was on display, her toned tummy and her flawless legs.

She is sporting a long awaited half smirk when your eyes return to her face. You have it in you to blush, but you don't feel guilty for it.

The girl sure does know how to build up anticipation like no other.

"I have more pressing stuff to attend to. Not that I'm saying that our talk isn't important, of course it is, but I really feel like we need to get some light stuff done first. I don't want the drama overload. I'll just go and continue setting up everything for later. I'll leave you here so you can relax," she allows a half-smile to appear on her face.

"Please, despite the less than warm welcome, do make yourself at home; chat with Marie and enjoy breakfast. It's just the start of the fun and the exciting festivities for the day," she says hurriedly, sounding quite breathless with a hot blush of anticipation painting her cheeks.

You quirk your eyebrow, bemused at her energy and her sudden burst of excitement.

"So I'll just… go. I'll be back, okay?" She says unnecessarily and you're not sure who she's trying to reassure anymore.

"Okay," you say. Your voice is suddenly small and you're feeling a little disappointed as she maneuvers another supposedly quick exit, but you needn't worry. A beat of a second later and she's still there, hesitating, waiting, rocking in place, and gnawing at her lip. Perhaps she's deciding on doing or acting on something.

You feel your heart rate speed up, and you raise an eyebrow questioningly when her eyes meet yours.

"Can I- would it be okay for me to ask something of you?" You shrug, not quite knowing what to expect.

"Would it be okay if I hugged you?" She says, sporting a cute pink on her cheeks, opening her arms expectantly, as a hopeful smile appears. Your heart jumps in your chest a little.

"Um, a hug?" You respond, unprepared for that.

"'Cause I really missed that, too. Besides the person giving them, of course " She says teasingly and a little wistfully, all the while coming closer. You don't know why you're frozen in place. Actually you know perfectly well why. Somehow you know you wouldn't be able to control yourself if she held you closely, if she wrapped you up in her arms. You'd get overwhelmed by the feelings triggered by her warmth and smell and everything Beca, and you'd weaken once again. Everything you'd been holding back, the feelings of missing her and wanting her would break free and overwhelm everything else.

And that wouldn't help at all...this was a time for discussing things, not giving way to wants and desires and acting with lust, that would only send you guys two steps backwards.

"Well I'm not quite-", you flounder for words, anything to stop her from coming closer, you opt for the truth, "I'm not ready for that." You quickly spit out, which successfully stops her approach. Her arms come down then settle limply at her sides.

"And that's totally understandable...okay." she scratches the back of her head, the both of you just stand there fidgeting in place, but Beca then reaches out and settles for a very awkward arm pat which after a second, you return. Your eyes meet and you both look away quickly, a blush painting high on your faces.

"So I'll catch up in a bit. There's just a few last minute preparations that I need to attend to." Beca says, sending one last tentative smile before making her way up the stairs.

"Hey Becs." You find yourself calling out a few seconds in,

She backtracks quickly two steps. "Hmm?" she asks. She waits expectantly. You want to say something. To beg her to start telling you everything. To ask her to stay there and talk, to stay in the moment. (The most natural you'd felt around her since she'd come back.)

"I-never got to ask, how's the nose?" you ask instead, allowing another obvious but no less important concern to leak through.

But it, the explanation slash confrontation would come later, you had the whole day. Besides there was no rushing such a thing.

"Well I can still use it, breathe through it properly -though it is a bit congested." she deadpans.

"That's the cotton getting in the way," you tease.

"You could've used a tampon, Channing Tatum's character in 'She's the Man' swears by them."

She cracks a smile, "You mean Duke Orsino? It was actually Viola or Amanda Bynes who actually said it cause she gets really bad nose bleeds."

You laugh in delighted surprise. "Wait, you said you hadn't watched it."

She tentatively scratches at her nose looking sheepish before smiling,

"Don't look so surprised, I remember it being one of your guilty pleasures under a long line of other Amanda Bynes films ...I actually watched it after you mentioned it to me that one time. More than once... I can actually quote it.."

She lowers her voice." Oh, yeah, I uh, borrowed one of your... yeah... and you're right, they really do work." She does a grade A imitation of Channing himself, quickly getting into character you almost don't reply. You forget sometimes she was an academy award nominee... you have to go all in giving as good as it gets.

"Oh my god you're hurt…" you say a la Viola but clear your throat and rough your voice all Sebastian-like, "I mean, suck it up, be a man and rub some dirt on it. You say complete with exaggerated actions. Beca's eyes shine with amusement and something dear, like affection or was it adoration, something you'd dearly missed.

"Okay, I'll rub some dirt in it." Beca says laughingly, "Ow.", she says, "Don't make me laugh." she says holding her nose, while trying to control her giggles, "And I think I deserved it anyway." she said echoing that phrase from the last time she had gotten hurt while with you, the guilt settles in more strongly.

God. It seemed like all you did was hurt her and her you(Both physically and emotionally) You had the most dysfunctional of relationships, the two of you were toxic to each other, like the worst of vices-both addictive and destructive.

"Not this time, no." you admit, "It was me, me and my ill-timed knocking. I really am sorry for it."

For many things- for everything. For all the times you'd hurt her. Gotten angry with her and let your anger reign over your every rash action.

Not that this meant she was off the hook or completely forgiven. Time would only tell if or when she would succeed in winning your trust back.

This merely meant that you acknowledged how badly, how rash the both of you had acted regarding everything with rational thinking giving way to negative thoughts and actions. Marie was right, the both of you had a lot to work through in order to patch things up. All this would only start when you went about it like mature individuals.

You needed to get this day right on track, "Anyways, I'll leave you to finish the preparations if you need anything I'll just be...here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me…" she looks so hopeful then, happy at your words, it makes something clench harshly, almost painfully inside you. But it's too early, it's too much to promise at the moment, and so you add. "I still haven't gotten my answers yet." It's to remind her and yourself what had to be done, if you wanted to move forward to whatever outcome was best for the both of you.

She looks nervous all of a sudden, it's there in the quick shift in her eyes but she meets yours and she seems to calm.

She nods with a slight, promising smile does that arm pat again then runs up the stairs.

You wander back to the kitchen without the trepidation you had earlier, feeling slightly more hopeful for what lay ahead.

Marie's observing you as you enter. She has an eyebrow raised in observation, questioning without saying anything-you see where Baca gets it.

You smile and she does as well, the both of you visibly relaxing.

"So-what will you be having?"

"Oh I'll definitely have some of the french toast Marie, thanks." You reply feeling more normal having everything underway.

You continue to idly chat with Marie sticking to much lighter topics as you're still feeling a bit shaken from what she'd said earlier, how on point she was with everything on your side of the scale but you're wondering how right she was about Beca…it sounded like her…and yet…you have yet to understand or hear this from Beca herself.

That's what you would have to ask later in your free-for-all questioning, with Beca's once in a lifetime no holds bar offer.

You await the moment with something akin to tense excitement.

"So I understand you'll be having a full blown slumber party-" Marie says pulling you away from your thoughts.

"Yup-I thought it'd just be a pool party but I guess the girls wanted to go all out…"

You can't say you're overly surprised, though you hadn't anticipated it and made the rookie mistake of forgetting to bring a change of clothes. Aside from the clothes on you, you only had your bathing suit and your towel. You quickly shrug that thought away. You had far more pressing things to worry about, and its not like the lack of clothes ever stopped you from having a good time. You'd like to think you actually had more fun without the pesky hindrances of clothes - you wonder if you could convince Beca of this later

"Not that you heard it from me, but Beca's really excited about it." Marie reveals, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You panic for a moment, thinking that Marie had somehow heard your pervy thoughts.

You recover smoothly but somehow can't suppress the tell-tale tint of red coating your cheeks as you reply, "Yeah, it's surely going to be a fun night. It's what the girls talked about the entire night leading up to this morning."

"Um, but...between you and me, Chloe, I think she really will need your help. She was on the verge of hiring a special interior designer from abroad, and an events manager just so she could ensure the perfect sleepover…" she whispers conspiratorially.

Okay, that was a bit much you muse.

"I'll be happy to help, though, I'm sure it's not that bad-"

"You mustn't speak too soon." Marie says, eyes wide but laughing lightly.


After breakfast your feet carried you to where Beca was overseeing the preparations, truly curious to see what exactly Marie was going on about. You follow on as Marie leads the way up the same flights of stairs Beca had disappeared off to earlier which in turn leads down a long stretch of a hallway to a half floor living room area.

You're at the edge of your seat, expectant yet feeling oddly nervous. You're sure you have no reason to be... until you catch sight of Beca running this way and that, surrounded by a dozen or so people, running like her tail was on fire-like she was readying for some big awards show. Seeing all that wasn't helping your nerves any.

And Marie was right, this was a bit, how would you say it, over the top. Kinda like what a conceptualized version of a sleepover in those chick flicks would be (the kind that was never legit enough) made for magazines, showcases to be looked at and not for actual people to have actual fun in, much less sleep in.

Also aside from that, it's like the room had been puked on by the giraffe from ToysR Us or maybe a sleepover fairy, if that made any sense. Each surface was filled with toys, gadgets and all sorts of knick knacks for any activity that you could associate with a sleepover.

It's like Beca had searched up sleepover ideas on Google and just bought into everything she saw and subsequently bought everything as a result.

"She's acting like a kid out on her first sleepover…" you can't help but comment later. An enamored giggle escapes you, you're inwardly shaking your head at yourself and your attraction to complete goofballs. You're completely awestruck as you watch Beca get adorably worked up, getting into a heated discussion with Francine (who was, apparently, Beca's long time interior designer) for what seems like half an hour on what kind of pillows were best for pillow fights- if they were to happen (most likely it would, she had a schedule of activities to follow according to Marie.)

Marie's silence speaks volumes.

"Wait…is this her first time? Her first official sleepover?"

Beca chooses that moment to come over, leaving Francine and her staff moving further down the room, disappearing into what might be a bathroom. Beca's looking to you, holding up her last two choices of pillows.

"Am I a sleepover virgin you mean?" she says clearly hearing the tail end of the conversation, the both of you end up smiling, amused at her colorful use of words. Marie doesn't seem to share the same sentiment and excuses herself.

"Did I do something?" you ask, watching as Marie speedily walks away.

"No. The topic of anything remotely sexual pertaining to me kinda puts her off. Marie will forever view me as that adorable, innocent kid." she says, tucking a pillow under each arm.

"Oh, how times have changed."

She narrows her eyes at you but her lip twitches amusedly-not that you noticed cause you were distractedly staring at her lips or anything.

"Are you contesting my innocence or my being adorable?" She ask as those same pretty pink lips move into a smirk.

You look away just so you could meet her equally enticing eyes when you teasingly shoot her down. "Both."

She doesn't get deterred, her lips and her eyes brighten, both seeming to smile. "Well, yes, I'm no longer the doe eyed little girl, but I'd like to think maturity did me well. I'm no longer just adorable-I'm filthy hot." she smirks cockily, around a wink.

Those prove to be a very lethal combination on her. You're almost annoyed at your body's immediate reaction, flushing all over.

"You're lucky puberty came around and worked wonders." you say, not mustering enough strength for it to be an effective enough comeback. Seriously no one could blame you at that moment for that little slip of weakness.

You fall into a comfortable silence that Beca is first to break.

"I'm sure we were engaged in a different topic. Weren't we talking about something of importance earlier, something far more mentally stimulating?" she pretends to ponder.

"The government's efforts to reduce terrorism? Climate change?" you offer, playing along. She laughs, eyes dancing, enjoying your easy banter.

"Yeah no. The life changing issue that you wanted to ponder...You asked if I was a sleepover virgin?" she smiles.

"Well, are you?" you prompt.

"Yes." she sighs. "Well except for you, when you came over but that didn't... really... count."

"I'm not good enough for you. Was I just something to keep you warm?" you tease, but you feel an uncomfortable lump building in your throat at how true it rang, remembering the bigger issue looming ahead. You feel the painful thickness there, finding it hard to swallow, feeling guilty for enjoying this, Beca's presence, at all.

Your thoughts, your feelings, everything about you that's already conflicted, surrenders briefly to your growing doubts, your fears. They are circling, crowding around the quiet hopeful voice in your head. Overpowering it. Fighting, shouting to be heard.

She betrayed you.

But she said she would tell you the truth.

That doesn't erase what she's done.

You don't even know the entire story.

What's to say she wouldn't make up another story to appease you.

Your head hurts. You close your eyes against earnest blues. You're so tired of fighting, always waging an internal battle with yourself. The urge to get away from that moment, from Beca feels overwhelming and strong-the change in you something Beca immediately senses.

You hear as she drops one pillow and takes your hand cautiously. You feel her lift it to press something warm and soft, something that trembles-her lips- gently, reverently against them. You open your eyes and see her head bent low over your hand, she glances up and meets your eyes. She seems reluctant but she pulls herself away, straightening up. But her hand remains where it is, and you are grateful. It's what is tethering you to that moment, pulling you away from the doubtful, angry voices in your head.

And there's also her shiny eyes, promising answers.

Patience. Stay. they say.

Trust me.

Please they beg in unspoken plea.

Beca clears her throat. "I just meant, it's different with a group." she squeezes your hand before she lets go completely.

"Yup, I understood and yep, I figured this was your first time. A monumental moment of sorts." you laugh, still feeling heavy, somewhat stilted.

"Yeah." She smiles timidly as she shrugs.

The moment of silence that follows is yawning compared to the one earlier on.

Out of the corner of your eye Beca moves, she nudges you. She holds up the two pillows, her eyes plead for your help. You grab one, the not too firm rubber pillow and forgo the feather pillow.

She pouts and you feel your chest loosen just the tiny bit.

"Aw-Now that's no fun. Judge me all you like for setting women back and all that but when I imagined my first pillow fight during our first ever sleepover there were feathers flying."

"You mean like this?" you say and grab said pillows before whacking them forcefully together- right over Beca. You may have been a little too enthusiastic, you underestimated your own strength, not expecting the feathers to go flying everywhere. You see the appeal now, watching the feathers getting all over Beca, tangling up in her hair. She tries to scowl but she looks so jubilant, eyes wide and sparkling, watching the feathers floating this way and that. Your delighted laughter escapes you and she soon joins in, the combination of joyous tunes alleviates whatever leftover heaviness and tension you had from earlier on.

She does, however, yank the pillows from your gasp.

"Hey. You have to save those for later!" she says sternly.

You can't help the giggle that bubbles out. You roll your eyes playfully.

"C'mon I'll get in on this before you burst a vessel from overthinking." you tease before you hear a huge, collective gasp coming from behind you. You see the group of people, Francine's staff (that you've somehow forgotten) finally back from wherever they'd wandered of to, staring wide eyed at the mess. You stare back guilty.

"Sorry. The pillows, I didn't expect them to just burst like that." you apologise. They seem to get over their initial shock as they smile with what seems like understanding. They accept your apology and don't make a big deal out of it, already retrieving the special materials to work on cleaning up.

"Those feather pillows really should carry a warning on them, marked as explosive or something." you whisper to Beca, "Also let's start by giving the people a little break or even letting them off for the day."

"No, that's okay guys." you interrupt the staff before they even start, "I'll clean that. We've got it from here."

The clean up crew checks with Beca first.

Beca looks unsure, but you try smiling in what you hope is a reassuring way. "Have faith." you murmur. She gets this worried look on her face before she nods decisively.

You hug the pillow(or what's left of it) to yourself as you watch as Beca exchanges a couple of words with Francine before thanking her. Her interior designer actually looks relieved to finally be let go.

She sports a fond smile when she bids her farewell, "That was pretty gruesome Miss Beca. But I'm sure I'm leaving you in the right hands." she says kissing Beca on the cheek and sending a wink your way.

"Now, now Francine. We agreed to lose the title, it's just Beca. You knew me when I used to have Barbar the Elephant posters and jungle animal wallpapers up in my room."

"You say that like that was so long ago when that was literally just five years ago." Francine is quick to reply. Beca flushes.

"Didn't you say you were anxious to leave?" she says narrowing her eyes at her.

"And miss embarrassing you in front of a friend, this is like a once in a blue moon thing. You never have people over, it's maybe even as rare a sighting as the Halley's comet."

"Okay, you've just implied that not only am I a friendless loser, but a friendless loser who is weirdly unable to let go of her childhood."

"Do you not see where we are, this is like a shrine for that missed childhood. You have issues-" you look to Beca to see if she took any offense but she's smiling.

"That I do know. Now you better go before I decide I could do without you as a friend as well as an Interior designer."

"Well, I do need the job, but there are others out there who would appreciate my genius better, like Chloe here," Francine says putting on pretend airs whilts clapping an arm to your back, "when you win and make it big, I get dibs on decorating your first estate." She says, smiling broadly.

"Anywho, Gotta dash my devotees await me." You catch Beca rolling her eyes, exasperated amusement evident, before Francine obscures your view completely, pulling you into a hug.

"It was nice to meet you, Chloe. I'm a fan by the way, you're what Beca desperately needed-" she whispers intimately, you feel your ears heat up, "-for the team." she adds like she'd forgotten, and somehow you knew she was doing it on purpose.

Francine takes her team with her and the rest filter out as well, leaving Beca and you alone.

"She seems nice. That's quite an interesting dynamic you two have. She's got me curious about your history. You guys seem close, how'd that come about?"

"Sorry about her." Beca nods somewhat distractedly, trying to come up with the right words to describe it,"She's like the older sister I never asked for."

"Or maybe the annoying, single, 'think she's so cool aunt'. Yeah that's more like it, it fits-she's actually in her forties, she keeps healthy."

"I never would've guessed. She could pass for our age. I guess you guys have superior genes or something?" you tease, Beca shakes her head and smiles gently.

"Oh. We're not really related, though it seems like it sometimes. I kind of inherited her along with the other members of the house staff when my Mother-" she clears her throat and presses on, "She's the closest to me in age so we usually get on well, if not for her sudden penchant for embarrassing me in front of important people."

"I'm just people?" you can't resist playfully asking.

"You ignored the word 'important'." Beca answers seriously but with a tiny twinkle to her eyes, "As in important- special-to me." She leaves you gaping there, not expecting or needing a response. You were still unaccustomed to this side of Beca. It was nice, almost scary, how truly open she was being.

The two of you walk around before deciding to settle down on one of the living room beds. Beca sits gingerly on the sofa bed, trying not to dislodge any pillows while you try jumping onto it and nearly falling off underestimating how bouncy it was. Was this a waterbed?

You're looking round at the overly crowded area which was now converted to a sleepover pillow fort slash showcase room complete with state of the art entertainment system; ready for either karaoke, Wii, Rockband and an array of PlayStation games catering to everyone from Grand Theft Auto to Call of Duty, to Mario kart. There's a candy corner and assorted snacks table. You see plenty of stuff you don't recognise, you also see something that looked suspiciously like an inflatable bouncy house.

"So this is a lot of stuff...where do we sleep?"

"Who said anything about sleeping?" she says waggling her brows, her smile curling devilishly as she leans in.

"What-How do you mean?" you stutter out and just barely hold back a blush.

"Oh. I think you know what I mean." she says her eyes smouldering, her voice dropping low, biting at her lip deliberately teasing. You fight to keep your face stoic, you think you were somewhat successful till she laughs lowly, eyes bright and knowing.

"You're very annoying," You let out an exasperated sigh, "Completely insufferable." you add, and she pulls back, laughing still. "I barely put up with you." you finish and she scoffs disbelievingly. You bite back a smile.

"I heard that in sleepovers, the fun part is the not the sleeping aspect of it. We'll have so many fun activities to keep us preoccupied, sleep will be the last thing on our minds."

"Did you read this in a sleepover manual somewhere?"

"There's a manual?" she asks stricken, brows furrowed, eyes wide. It's your turn to laugh.

"There's none but I'm sure that didn't stop you from researching and planning every little aspect of today." you tease.

"So, I'm thorough. Sue me." she grumbles. You playfully nudged her.

"Nothing wrong with being thorough but planning everything to a tee, it leaves very little space for spontaneity...and also I highly doubt we'll be able to do all this within today." you suggest rationally but softly, not wanting to dampen Beca's spirit.

"I may have gone slightly overboard." She muses.

"You think?" you respond.

She laughs before moving to plop herself down beside you, the bed continues to move after she'd settled down.

You let your eyes drift shut as you both lay comfortably still, it's calming, it's nice hearing your breath synching up to each other's, to feel her soft warmth near you, here with you. Solid and whole. You feel the bed move again. You open you eyes to see her on her side facing you. You mimic her, turning to your side and observe her, observing you.

"What?" you murmur around a yawn, feeling conscious as she continues to stare without saying anything, letting a small smile stretch across her face.

"Do I have something on my face?" you ask consciously.

She shakes her head, her smile growing.

"You want to tell me what's so funny then?"

"Nothing's funny. I'm just...happy. I'm happy you're here, that's all."

You bite back a smile. "It's the least I could do, it turns out I made the right decision-you do need all the help you can get. I arrived right on time."

"Time. " her eyes widen, "wait a minute, what's the time now?"

"Eight oh two?"

Beca jumps up and starts being her on-the-edge, overly frazzled self again, plumping a pillow here and straightening a cushion there.

"It's still pretty early-you've still got four hours to go." you say, moving to sit up.

She shakes her head and starts pacing,

"That's three hours and fifty eight minutes 's no time to rest. I need to check up on the food, you think the girls have any special preferences for dessert? And you think the bbq is enough and the pasta and the sushi platter, I know I should have hired a caterer for the night. What if they want to go mexican? Maybe I should have Marie making fajitas or something?" she says almost in one breath.

Your eyebrows raise high into your forehead. Woah girl. Slow down. One at a time. Beca was getting way ahead of herself.

"Why are you stressing so much over this." you say, amusement fading a little when her face tightens. Your feel your own smile wavering, feeling unsettled seeing Beca looking so anxious, desperate even.

"I just-It has to be perfect...I really want to make up for everything ...I can't afford to mess this up." She confesses. It eats at you, makes you want to comfort her, hold and squeeze her hand badly, but you restrain yourself.

"Hey, we're your friends. It's the thought that counts, we appreciate the effort. You don't have to try so hard. We already like you." You try teasing. Her eyes twinkle a bit, a haphazard smile pulls at the corner of she lips.

"So you still like me? Good to know." Beca says weakly, her eyes soft.

"I said it as a sorta like a group thing not just solely me- that part I'm not so sure of yet." you evade, still cautious. You tamper down that feeling of unease at brushing closely to the deeper issue. Not now.

Later, right? The serious stuff would come later. Beca had said so. She was right, it was best that way.

You thought you'd been most looking forward to it, but now it felt easier, better to enjoy just this, being in the moment without the heavy weight of all the pressing issues. You hope the powers that may be wouldn't hold it against you if you allowed yourself to forget even for just one moment.

"Cos you said well yeah...I just...y'know."

"Yeah…" you murmur not quite acknowledging, "Here...fine. I'll do more than just give my opinion. I'll get my hands dirty." you say getting to your feet, she bounds up to you, looking a little more hopeful,

"Just a little bit of a reminder, you can't force some things, you just need to let it happen." you try hinting.

She looks bemused but she seems willing to listen.

"See you don't need much. Simplicity is key in this case and you only need three basic things; You got the location down, the second and absolutely vital thing that we all will be needing is the food and beverages, and believe me, you have more than enough. It's byob- bring your own booze- so that's taken care of and everything, the company yeah...we'll be expecting them in a little bit..."

"So that's definitely all covered but uh- it was too late to cancel the petting zoo, the mini bar or the exotic dancers." she says mildly apprehensive.

You're just about ready to scold her but she suddenly snorts, then continues to silently laugh at your worried expression. "C'mon I'm not completely hopeless." she says shaking her head but smiling widely.

"Sure you aren't." You lightly grumble, "Okay let's see if we can salvage this. Let's get all this straightened out."

You get to work, start putting away some things, axe some ideas; the waterbed (it was fun sure and weirdly comfortable but not enough for all of you to settle comfortably on for the entire night, no one would get sleep with the constant jostling that would happen whenever someone were to make a slight adjustment). You regret saying no to a kajillion board games that you usually enjoyed (Monopoly, Cluedo), twister (you'll save that for another time)and paintball on the lawn.

You say no to the make over kits and nail and salon area- to open up the space a bit more. You choose the appropriate amount of pillows just for sleeping but keep some closeby for probable pillow fights, at the end of it all you end up scrapping the whole idea of having a scheduled list of activities or just a schedule in general.


Afterwards, an hour or so later, you stand back proud of Beca and yourself for managing to pull this off together. Everything was as it should be. There was the soft but firm pull out sofa bed, covered neatly with a number of pillows, and warm blankets. There were bean bags littered across the room. The entertainment system and all its components remained untouched; the impressive widescreen television and gadgets were off to one side, with the drinks, snacks and candy corner and popcorn maker well within reach.

You can't help feeling caught up in the excitement. You were well on your way for one of the best sleepovers ever. It's pretty simple compared to what was going on earlier but you know it was what was needed.

The both of you decide to step out to get some air; it's mostly to keep Beca from fussing over the sleepover area some more. You stop by the kitchen to grab a couple of light snacks and then settle down by the pool area.

You spot a covered Jacuzzi tub and you can't help the giddy excitement from seeing it. So you had a thing for hot tubs-not that you'd ever really tried one before-but they'd always appealed to you. Out of the corner of your eye, just enough to pull away your attention, sat Beca getting comfortable. She lays down on a pool chair beside it, putting her sunglasses on, a relaxed smile painting her face.

You take a moment to appreciate the picture of Beca so lax and free, away from anyone else's prying eyes but your own.

"See something you like?" she asks smirking when she catches you. You flush but you don't look away.

"Oh yeah…" you pause just to see her face redden with a blush of her own. You smile slightly before adding, "The hot tub. I've actually never tried one before." You say, sitting by it.

Beca looks surprised for a mere moment but smiles easily, "Well there's no time like the present. Today's a special day, a day for firsts."

What she says comes across lightly enough but you both realise at the same time that she means so much more.

It was time.

You both know you've arrived at that point, the time for the serious talk. For a brief period earlier you'd both allowed yourselves a moment to separate from the deeper issues, to just enjoy being in each other's presence, rid of any hurt or anger. You knew you could only evade it for so long.

Even Mother Nature seems to have been made aware, adapting to the change. The air seems to still, the breeze slow and gentle, the clouds move shielding the harsh light, and there's Beca herself, eyes calm and steady, all waiting for you to start.

"So when can I start the whole y'know questioning thing…" you try, voicing it aloud.

"You just said that there are some things you need to let happen.." she echoes you, half-smiling though her eyes remain intense, serious. Still, she seems to be readying herself, tensing as she sits up and turns to you, pushing her shades up into her hair.

"But if I don't start, it may never happen. So-how do these questioning things usually go?"

"You used to just 'do it' before, as I recall. Never stopped you from talking my ear off with the 'why this, why that." Beca teases, you reach over to push at her shoulder, she laughs when she dodges it and holds your hand and doesn't let go. She trails her hand pressing her fingers into your palm before interlacing them and you feel a tiny, nervous jolt in your tummy. You squeeze her hand once, before loosening your grip from hers.

She smiles still, though it's a little hesitant, a little bit forced.

"Also the way you say it, you're making it sound like I did something illegal so that I had to be brought in for questioning…" she lets out a tiny laugh though her eyes convey her slight disappointment.

"Well, it depends on what you're going to tell me. Let's hear it all out-I wouldn't know exactly what you got up to while you were away…" you respond semi-serious. "So confess!"

She smiles and sighs, "I don't care what anyone says, that's my favorite and most memorable line from Game of Thrones."

You shake your head, "You should be glad I'm asking nicely. They had other unorthodox methods...unless you want me to be calling out "Shame' as you walk through the entire city in your birthday suit."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement, "Well that's actually looking promising at the moment compared to this." You have a retort poised ready on your tongue but you're interrupted, "And all that just to get me in my birthday suit, you needn't go through such a hassle, you could just simply ask nicely. You know I can't deny you much of anything." she teases mercilessly, with a touch of honesty towards the end.

You blush, yet press forward "You promised." you remind her.

"I know, I asked for this-and I said I'll answer ...whatever it is you wanted to know-"

"Like anything at all?" You clarify,

"If I can…if it's within my ability for one thing… I will try, to the best of my abilities…"

"So…the ball's in your court, it's your move, or any other sports expression you wanna allude to." she takes a deep breath almost like in preparation for your onslaught of questions.

She waits and so do you, you wait for the words to stem to your lips, but nothing comes- you just end up staring at her.

Now was the time to ask, but which question first, there were just so many. Perhaps you should've come prepared; made a list and arranged them by priority, but right now you feel you have to go with what's really bugging you.

You're distracted for a bit, taking Beca in fully. She's nervous, if it's any indication by her bouncing knee and her trembling hands, and consequently, so are you, but somehow you had to get over it- someone had to woman up. If you let your nerves control you, you wouldn't be able to do this and get the answers you most desperately craved.

"Now that you've mentioned it I feel like I'm a witness at a stand, it's like we're doing an official interview." she babbles.

"Maybe we can do it rapidfire like. Yeah maybe that'll be easier, you're used to those." you offer.

Beca shrugs almost in an 'let's just get it over with' kinda way.

"So you wanted to talk-let's talk then. Just go on, I'll count you off, three. two. one, start."

"I thought we already had…and no one counts off at an interview unless you're the Assistant director or the production crew, not the interviewer herself. "

"No, you've been evading, stalling, dawdling." You say and she smiles sheepishly, ducking her head at getting caught.

"I'm trying to compose myself, I'm trying to find the right words…there's so much to say." she closes her mouth, breathes harshly- "if this is like any old interview, I don't know why it's suddenly so nerve-wracking."

"It's just me, Becs." You sigh, nudging her. She lets a half smile grace her lips.

"Yeah, exactly why I'm so nervous."

"Why don't you start at the very beginning I hear it's a very good place to start." you try joking, but roll your eyes at yourself. Beca manages another weak, nervous smile.

"It's not something you just casually start with, I kind of need to work up to it…and also it's important that we establish some ground rules."

"Sounds serious." you play it cool, still needing to keep it light, it's your own lifeline to not give into weakness, to your mounting fear, to keep your wits about you.

"You have no idea." she mutters, eyes shifting from yours to her hands, now clasped tightly together.

"Okay then let's work up to it-so ground rules. We give each other time to talk, to explain." You say.

"Yes. And we need to promise to listen first and to hold back from reacting." She says earnestly, her eyes conveying her apprehension, "It's easier said than done but we need to both promise to try our utmost hardest."

"No walking out." she adds, gulping before adding,"No matter what."

You glance up sharply, what did she mean. Was she expecting another walk out. Was her big confession so walk out worthy?

You nod slowly, then give one short nod consenting fully. "No matter what." you echo.

Okay, see this wasn't so hard. Mature individuals you both definitely were.

"So…okay. Maybe you can tell me, what really made you decide to come back here to the States I mean…?"

"Like I said in front of the girls…I had to be a better coach and-"

You shake your head, cutting across, eyes closing. "The real reason. " You say hoping she heard your silent please. You wanted, needed to hear this explanation, this confirmation from her. It would paint a clearer picture on what had been going through her head at the time. What was the trigger, her change of heart that made her drop everything and leave her responsibilities, her fiance. Did she leave him for real.

"It is the real reason, one of them anyway. The main one-you already know it."

You open your eyes.

"But since you're so keen for me to spell it out, I'm here-a lot earlier than I intended-because I just...have to make amends...start over fresh...turn a new leaf actually that's the truth plain and simple...with the people-the person who matters most to me."

"Our last conversation had a lot to do with my decision, when you told me that I was 'all words' I hated it, I didn't want it to be true...cos l said that quite a lot about my father and his promises growing up-but that's completely out of context...I came because-I wanted to...I had to do this not just for you, but for me too."

So it really was for you. But how can she say this but act another way. How can she explain what she still had going on with Jesse.

"You say you did this for us, that you missed me. But you were still with Jesse yesterday…" You cut across her, now doing away with pretences and getting straight to the point. "You guys were ...together." you're having a hard time saying it, feeling your throat closing up.

Everything still feels raw, especially now that you're acknowledging the pain that's finally and fully being allowed to come to the surface.

"Yeah because we met up for the signing of a new artist, Emily Junk. Plus we had to talk a couple of business things over late into the night." She explains it away so easily, so casually dismissive, you find it hard to contain the annoyance, barely keeping yourself from interrupting even after you swore you'd give her a chance to finish, to tell you everything. "There was a lot to talk about."

You really want to give her a chance to explain but with Beca you couldn't beat around the bush, you had to push to get a straight answer out of her.

"And that's it-that's all you did together. You talked, and what, I'm just supposed to believe that?"

"Why not, it's the truth-" she begins to say flippantly, defensively. She bites her lip. she shakes her head, "I'm asking you to believe me. I would never do that to you."

Her earnest eyes pierce you but you shake your head, above it all you were still hesitant to trust, still stinging with hurt, the sting reaching all the way to your eyes, which you somehow miraculously keep dry.

"So why was he in your bed-or you were in his bed-I don't care about the details but you were both sharing a room the other night-"

She looks confused, like she was hearing all of this for the first time. If she was acting, this was the best work you'd ever seen from her. "We had separate rooms, we may have slept on the same bed once during the trip but we didn't sleep together…well we've slept together technically, but we didn't sleep with each other…"

Your brows come together."You need to say that again Beca cos that made little to zero sense." You laugh almost hysterically, your voice strangled feeling your frustration mounting, you can't help it it was either that or bursting into tears.

And you can't be a slobbering mess not when you know there's still more that needed to be asked, to be answered.

"Yeah. I'm so-I'm really trying to do this...bottom line is-No, I didn't have sex with Jesse. Why would you think I did?"

She was telling you one thing and yet all circumstances seemed to point to the contrary, proved otherwise. She wanted you to blindly trust her, to take her for her word.

"You see I hate this, when you talk to me like that and flash your pretty blue eyes all I want to do is believe you."

She looks defeated, desperate. Her hand reaches to hold yours but you quickly pull away. You get to your feet, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. It serves a double purpose, keeping yourself from reaching out and accepting her touch as well as holding yourself together, keeping yourself whole as your body shakes with barely controlled emotion.

"I felt so bad, so guilty that night after we fought, after I accused you, that's why I called you to apologise for jumping the gun and according to you setting 'us' up for a loss but the next thing I know, that I hear is Jesse. Do you know how that felt hearing him answer, hearing him- " you pinch the bridge of your nose trying to keep your tears at bay. You tighten your arms around yourself, needing to remain stable, to keep standing even when you feel like you're on unstable grounds.

"And all the while knowing just how easy it was for you to go back to him after one fight."

"Did Jesse tell you all this? Whatever he said it's not what it seemed, it's not what you think, Chloe. Believe me when I say that nothing happened or will ever happen between me and Jesse."

"How do I know that for truth, Beca? I don't know what's truth from your lies anymore. What's your proof, how do I even believe you?"

This all felt repetitive. Tiresome. Every one of her truths are tinged with your doubt.

You hate how you can no longer find it in yourself to trust her and her explanations any longer.

She too gets to her feet, her eyes wild in their intensity, hungry and desperate for your absolution.

"Because! Because I promised you, because there's nothing between Jesse and I-anymore."

All at once you feel wave upon wave of remembered negative feelings, all your other doubts and fears, your insecurities regarding her are all scratching at you, tripping over the other to make themselves known,

"Now, when it's inconvenient or when you've fought. When you don't get enough attention from him and you always have me as your backup option!" You spit them out in a slew of angry, hateful words, not caring that you're failing once again at keeping it together, that you're both completely disregarding the flimsy ground rules you'd set up earlier.

"You know how I feel. You know that isn't true…" she sounds close to crying, her voice strained and trembling.

"There you go again, this isn't true- that isn't true, the truth is-" you scoff, "Well the truth is, I don't know anything for sure with you."

"Fuck, you're not even listening to me.. I'm practically trying to tell you-" she bites her lip, starts shaking her head, breathing harshly like a caged beast unable to get free, the very picture of frustration. It spikes your annoyance all the more.

Really...she was frustrated, really now.

Her posture relaxes slightly when she notices your own expression.

She continues with forced calm "I'm trying to tell you the one thing that will silence all your doubts-"

"Don't try so hard Beca you might hurt yourself and by the way yelling the supposed truth doesn't make it any more real." you say unable to stop snarking.

"Fuck you, Chloe and just so you know, I'm fucking committed in telling you the whole truth, so help me God. And don't pull that bull-you know me Chloe and you sure as hell know it in your heart what is and isn't true."

You've had it. You snap. "No I don't. So stop beating around the fucking bush and then just fucking tell me what is this fucking life-altering, game-changing truth then, Beca what is!"

"Jesse and I aren't together-"she shouts, breathing heavily, her face red. You almost lose your cool feeling your whole body tremble in frustration, you would've screamed if not for her next words halting and erasing any words, any possible thought from your mind.

"It was a ruse-it wasn't real." her eyes burn into yours.

"We never were together."


Author's Note: I know you guys missed my cliffhangers. We're back pitches! And this isn't even it, the next chap is the real juicy shit.