Authors Note: Hi all! How's everyone doing? Good I hope or as well as can be expected for this year. Hope you're all keeping healthy and keeping safe.

I'm sorry it's taken a pandemic to get my but into gear-but I'm finally back with new chapters and I will do my utmost to update this on the regular. I got my old beta waatp back and with her help I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel where I finally deliver the end to the story that you all deserve


You come downstage from the performance and everyone's in a tizz and not over your singing . The people are frantic. Another backlash. A public one. You go to find Beca immediately.

Beca looks so defeated and it takes all of your strength not to hold her close and comfort her.

"What now?" You ask inherently, knowing it was something bad.

"There's a girl ' s gone wild video of that night surfacing."

"What night-" You ask, confused.

"Our night with the girls." You suddenly feel sick as you get flashbacks, drunken singing, stripping to your bras, you remember Beca and you sneaking off to make out.

"What was in it?" You ask, steeling yourself, you're almost too afraid to know.

"I don't remember; all I know we were all too drunk out of our minds. Fat Amy was taking videos the whole night"

"I swear I didn't even post it -" Fat Amy says.

"Then who did?"


"Breaking news today. Our favorite DJ, newly single Beca Mitchell and coach of this season's The Voice is at it again, giving us a preview of the antics ongoings going on behind the scenes of the filming, but this time with most of her team in tow, in what looks to be a girls night in gone wild. More to follow after today's headlines."

You're all crammed together in Beca's office, live streaming the whole thing on her laptop while Aubrey's joining in on video call, propped up against someone's purse on the table. Everyone's flanked on either side of Beca, who reluctantly takes the seat directly in front of the screen. You can feel the tension and the nerves practically wafting off of her, she's got that face on, the one where you know she's off somewhere deep in her thoughts. If it had been any other day you'd be teasing her, pinching her cheeks at how cute she looked. You'd have kissed away that too serious vacant expression off her face till she returned to you, but not so today. Today was a serious, solemn kind of day. No one is looking at anyone else, all eyes fixed on the screen as the presenter's monotone voice talks about the trouble in the Gulf and how the prices of farming equipment have risen over the last six atmosphere in the room is the most tense you've ever felt with these girls. It's also the most quiet you can recall any one of them ever being

Actually, the whole building was unusually silent and you wondered what was in store for you. Your mind is working on overtime trying to recall the more risque ongoings of that crazy night; there was dancing and... yeah, there was the whole losing your shirt business but that was all. It briefly crosses your mind that your family, particularly your cousin, Janet, would never let you live this down and would probably bring it up at every family gathering for the next twenty-five years.

No big deal, you just wouldn't show your face in public again until you turned fifty.

You cast your eyes over towards the door, expecting someone, anyone perhaps Cameron Mitchell himself to burst through there and announce you'd been kicked off the show, simply for having a good time.

Wasn't this the side of showbiz and celebrity that Aubrey had warned you about in the very beginning? Hadn't she tried to drill into you the concept of having excess within control, imploring you to behave at all times and conduct yourself with dignity, when you'd applied for the show? You'd scoffed of course not taking her seriously (you didn't think what you did even mattered) but, maybe, just maybe, Aubrey had a point. You were now a public figure that had certain responsibilities to your audience. You couldn't act however you liked anymore, it was unavoidable now. Was this how it was going to be from now on? The paps at every corner, every single social media post scrutinized, and everything you ever did from now on discussed in detail, simply for being associated with Beca.

Your eyes find their way to Beca as it normally did and you let yourself watch her for a moment; she's distracted twirling a tendril of her hair around her finger looking almost bored, and utterly unbothered if not for the furrow on her brow. She lets out an impatient little huff and she mumbles "what's taking so long" just under her breath, it dawns on you just then that of course, this wasn't the first time she'd gone through this. You recall past news headlines with her in it (all pretty innocent compared to this) and you remember how diligently you kept track, how you would await whatever snippet of news there was, or found the clip on YouTube and saved it to your favorites list. You loved every second of screen time that she had.

It's somehow only occurring to you now as you watch the trail end of the current news report, that it's people like you, the slightly too involved celebrity-obsessed fan, that makes the need for every second of a celebrity's life to be broadcast. It makes you feel guilty and somewhat ashamed in the quietness of the room.

It really was rather eerie, this normally busy, bustling building being so still. Normally, there was someone talking, a phone ringing, or the sounds of equipment being moved around. The rest of the staff had filtered out with only Beca's team and her security kept at a close distance.

Somehow there's a strange vibe going on within the walls of Beca's office. You can't speak for them but you're feeling your anxiety building as you keep listening in. You're feeling antsy, you're desperate to move but unable to leave at the same time. Your body's still reeling, riding that adrenaline rush from stepping off stage. Was that really only ten minutes ago?

Every one of you is still fully made up. You had all quickly gone back on stage after the initial reveal and finished your respective scenes with the judges. There's no relief this time around as filming came to an end but instead a profound feeling of looming dread as the credits rolled.

"America's sweetheart, our once unproblematic queen, well-known for keeping a low profile, has had her name popping up left and right as of late-" The reporter's spiel is interlaced with pictures as well as clips of Beca throughout her entire career, dating back from her early start on Broadway till now being flashed on the screen. You know every picture, could almost name the date each one was taken.

"-Ever since taking up the mantle of coach for The Voice, her stint has been rife with controversy; being accused of unprofessionalism, favoring certain contestants, not being present for all of the auditions and coaching opportunities, sending in her assistant in her place and many more."

You hear Beca give a heavy, prolonged sigh. Cynthia lays a hand on her stiff shoulders, Beca smiles a tense but grateful smile. You feel a tinge of jealousy for that smile, for how engaged she is able to be with Cynthia. Beca and you on the other hand have yet to make eye contact, well any type of contact. You can't blame her, you could never be too careful before and now it's worse. Somehow now you felt even more conscious about your agreement even if you were amongst the girls,.

You couldn't blame her but it is eating you up inside. It's a widely known fact that out of the two of you you've always had a harder time tampering with that need for both giving and receiving physical comfort. You yearn for the simple actions you could no longer give as freely. It was in your nature to reach out and touch, to squeeze her shoulder, to give a hug, to feel for the thrumming of the pulse in her wrist. It's a tough job keeping your hands to yourself, you find yourself twisting them together to stop yourself from reaching for Beca.

It's especially hard when she can't, won't look at you, how were you supposed to read her properly? It was always her eyes that gave away her real feelings. You understand she's stressed out beyond reason and her mind is off somewhere but you're scared that she's probably right at this moment having second thoughts about everything.

You feel a lump forming in your throat, as you blink away the hot tears that are threatening to spill.

You can't help waiting for her snap, for the other shoe to drop. This had to be the final nail on the coffin. She'd realize you were more trouble than you were worth and you don't think you can go back to how it was before, yearning from afar with Beca just out of your reach.

After all this would Beca stay? The girl who's first instinct seemed to take the easy way, the flight instead of the fight. She, who ran from every single obstacle that had crossed your paths. Who had, at first, refused your friendship for fear of letting her feelings be known. No, you can't keep thinking that. You had to have faith in her and give her the benefit of the doubt, you know how hard she was trying-she had come a long way already. She had been closed off at the beginning, heavily guarded like a fortress but somehow slowly but surely she had been letting her walls down and slowly letting you in. But how could blame her really, history had not served her well-what could you expect from someone who time and time again had been let down and left behind by everyone she'd ever opened her heart to.

You realize you were still staring into space when one of the girls nudges you in the back and you shake yourself to look back at the laptop that you really want to slam shut and go back to your bubble where it's just you and Beca and none of this was happening.

Just then they start to show clips of the night's performances, including your own, and you momentarily lose your train of thought. You try to watch without critiquing yourself, but in hindsight, your song selection of Creep, wasn't the best choice for this "trying to keep everything at a down-low thing" Beca and you were trying and failing to pull off. You now feel like it was a dead give away.

You cringe at the face you pull during one particularly difficult note but no one else reacts to it. You still feel weird seeing yourself on screen sometimes.

"A series of clips were first posted in an insta story under a popular Beca Mitchell Instagram fan account with the hashtag ExposeMitchell, which started to gain traction just hours into the live show. The clips showcasing several fan-favorites; Patricia "Fat Amy" Hobart, Stacie Conrad, Cynthia Rose Adams, and our now infamous redhead, simpering songstress Chloe Beale, the latter now officially being linked to her coach-"

Both Beca and you stiffen, simultaneously there's a loud gasp from Aubrey and you feel your blood run cold before,

"-ch's drastic change in lifestyle, from being our girl next door, to party girl, off the rails Mitchell, with Beale considered the prime bad influence to these changes, with speculations of being one of the reasons behind the break-up of her long time loyal boyfriend and partner, the show's music producer Jesse Swanson. More on the story after the break."

There's a collective intake of breath, a groan, and a buzz of anxiety all around even as the program goes to a commercial break, it's a very welcome distraction from the heaviness engulfing the room.

"That was all very anti-climatic," Aubrey calls out over video call, the only relaxed one in the group; she was the only one safe within the comforts of home. She was safe from the chill that seemed to be permeating around the four of you. (Aubrey, unfortunately, couldn't make it to the studios as it was under lockdown and of course, her being banned.) She video-called as soon as she heard.

"Yeah, must they drag this on longer than they have to?" you ask, aiming for levity trying to play off how you're truly feeling.

Your skin however still smarts, prickles with shame, feeling the full blow of each accusation, ears ringing and hot. You almost hadn't thought about being portrayed as the villain in this scenario. You still don't know how the public would react. At the very beginning, people had liked you, your feedback at the start of the auditions had been really positive and you thrived with the knowledge that you were doing what you loved, reaching out to people and somehow making a difference.

But as time went on, you were finding yourself caring less and less about the show.

"Did anyone else hear how biased it all sounded? Loyal boyfriend. Also Chloe a bad influence on Beca? How so? I guess in terms of bad music maybe, like boybands." Aubrey teases to awkward smiles. You almost feel sorry at how she tries, (oh how she tries) to lighten up the mood, to thaw at the hardening ice, you shake your head at her.

She clears her throat and pulls on a serious face, "They're talking like Beca had suddenly become one of those asshole diva celebrities cursing at her fans, or some blurry-eyed druggie stealing from shops, or having a sex tape or doing anything remotely nefarious, which while her excessive use of eye make up could be considered criminal, I have yet to see any real cause for all the hate."

You take everything in, a bit shell shocked, feeling something dark and ugly bubbling just below the surface, it leaves you quite breathless, the sheer strength it takes to contain it.

You didn't care anymore that you were being dragged in the mud, left and right but this was hurting Beca and anything that hurt her, that threatened to even taint her name, filled you with rage.

Not too long ago you had just escaped, literally drove your way out of the claws of a potential scandal and now this, another shot, a deliberately hurtful act to tear Beca's reputation down. You know you're not the only one wondering if, or when, this barrage of attacks ever end. What was the point of it all? Did it really matter in the long run? Was this just the worst timing of all or was this another jealous fan deliberately setting out to ruin you both.

You feel like an out of shape tennis player, huffing and puffing, up and down trying to volley all these relentless hits coming from all directions. Frankly, you're becoming sick of it all now.

You hear the rest of the girls get to talking, it's all white noise, it feels so stilted, just mindless chattering to cover the growing tension. You don't really feel like contributing, you have a sudden overwhelming urge to make a run for it and make your way home.

"Did you guys actually see any of the circulating videos?" Aubrey asks, curiosity lacing her voice, the topic catching your attention.

"Yeah I saw a clip of us dancing, clearly drunk out of our minds but that's it. Pretty tame if you ask me." Cynthia Rose states around a shrug.

"I still don't understand how this all happened," Stacey says, looking somewhat suspiciously at Fat Amy.

"I mean why should it be a big deal, celebrities party all the time," she says her voice small, her face downturned but somehow you don't think she looks that guilty at all.

"And I'm sure there have been many drunken celebrities captured on film," Cynthia says.

"That's the thing though. Not Beca. This just isn't her, for the most part, she's actually pretty tame, even boring you could say. " Aubrey says in her defense.

"Thanks, Bree." Beca manages a small smile.

"What actions are being taken?" Aubrey asks in a far more serious tone.

"The videos were requested to be taken down, but even if we did that there are plenty of copies being circulated by now," Beca replies her voice monotone.

"Yeah, the account has been put on private." Stacie all but confirms showing her phone and the aforementioned Instagram account.

You head over to the corner couch to lay down, your head throbbing just above your left eyebrow. Your thoughts are too loud, demanding to be heard. They're all over the place and you just want to be away from it all, safe in your bed.

Already this commercial break felt so long, the waiting niggling at you. But at the same time, you weren't quite ready to know what would happen after this. The single moment that could turn things on its head.

Everything prior to this had been speculation or hearsay with no actual proof but this video could very much be the expose of the century. The more this drags on you're losing that thread of hope that this would blow over and you've started to wonder if things could ever go back to normal. If there was such a thing as normal anymore.

What's most disconcerting about it all is no one present at the party seemed to recall exactly what was in it. At the back of your mind, there's this niggling feeling- you were praying to the high heavens and the aca-gods that it wouldn't be so- but somehow you were scared that it would contain the one thing you'd rather be kept private for Beca and yourself-your kiss. Or what had felt like the kiss. Out of every previous kiss that you had with Beca, hell, even any kiss you'd ever shared with anyone else-nothing had compared to that kiss. Because this kiss had felt like the start of forever. No doubts, no anger, just the certainty of tomorrow and whatever came after.

That wasn't meant for anyone else's eyes but yourselves, contrary to what Aubrey might think, you weren't an exhibitionist (You really weren't into the whole putting yourself into compromising positions like that on camera). You pale, remembering how touchy you were with her even without being fully plastered.

But one thing was for sure it contained all your girls, especially Beca and you, being truly and uninhibitedly yourselves for the first time in a long time. That night at her house was or had been, a sanctuary, a place for friends to be free, for lovers to just be, a reprieve from the outside world, and demands of being a celebrity.

You can't help feeling partly responsible, it was after all at your go ahead and your assistance that it happened in the first place, plus it was Beca's first official sleepover, you girls hadn't exactly held back with all the crazy antics and celebration.

It's odd feeling nostalgic over something that happened not too long ago. Still, you recall the day with fondness, it was a memorable day except of course for the fuzzy parts after you guys got drunk, but the rest of it you can remember clearly. How Beca had revealed the truth about her and Jesse; she had revealed everything. But also something had shifted that day, you now had hope that things were finally going somewhere certain between you two.

How quickly it all changed. How fleeting it all was. Of course, something came up. You shouldn't have let your guard down. The universe was really trying to one-up itself in shitiness.

You felt cursed like you weren't allowed to bask in your newfound happiness with Beca for even one moment.

What even was this anymore? It was almost laughable if it weren't so heartbreaking.

Would your whole relationship be lined with all these suspicions and vicious rumors? Would your love for Beca and whatever she felt towards you be defined by something nasty, be seen as something wrong and immoral? Why did all this even have to be a big deal anymore?

But somehow you knew it wasn't just the girl on girl matter, it was the whole you, an outsider, who made her gay. It was the whole coach-contestant aspect. The whole 'she had grown up in the spotlight' and all her fans, people who didn't even know her felt like they had a say to her and who she was. The whole 'she was perfect and untouched' till you stole her away from her well-beloved boyfriend, making her the cheater and Jesse the wronged and aggrieved party.

You watch her from where you're seated. To a casual observer, she looked as put together as ever, calm and steady. To you, she was closed off, her walls back up her emotions unreadable, like the inaccessible celebrity that had navigated through these perilous waters her entire life and well she had.

You on the other hand had gone through your whole life a nobody, pretty normal (though Aubrey would claim otherwise) and here you were suddenly in the center of an entire seemingly unending shit storm. Like a zombie hoard with wave after wave attacking you then feeding on you when you were only just recovering. You felt like you were succumbing, little by little. Like the fight was being beaten out of you.

Was it fated that only bad things would follow you now that Beca was in your life?

Just like that, you wanted to curb that thought, guilt hitting you with a pang because of course not, Beca had made you happier than you've ever known. You let a soft groan escape your lips. You want to get out of your own head.

"Chlo, are you okay?" Beca's voice cuts through the fog, almost as if sensing herself in your thoughts. She finally looks over to you, eyes intense, filled with such concern.

Your heart clenches upon looking into those blues you loved so much, visibly tired and heavy with her dilemmas. How could you not be crazy for this girl, you know that she must be wrecked, her thoughts are probably miles away but still, she noticed something was off with you. And something wrong there was, you were talking yourself into a panic, overthinking everything before anything had actually happened. Wasn't that half of your issues?

A while ago you were begging for her to see you, but now you feel ashamed at how easily you swayed. You just want to close your eyes to everything and everyone (even if just for that moment) so you could get your own moment of peace without her judging you.

"Yes, I'm just resting my eyes." You say closing them, you can't look at Beca too long, lest she sees the flurry of doubt and regret, a hurricane wrecking fury in your insides.

"Okay, if you're sure." she meekly says, but you offer no response.

"We'll wake you when the breaks over-" Stacie offers, she spoke too soon as-

"We're back!"

You sit right back up as the commercial comes to an end, and the program's logo flashes on the screen.

"-Before the break, a girls night out exposed with a series of clips of Team Beca's girls and the Coach, Beca Mitchell, herself shown in a different light and put in such a compromising position, wilding it, and getting down and dirty out at their private house party."

The clip plays for all but ten seconds when-

"Fuck. I can't." Beca jumps out of the chair, snapping you out of your inner monologue. "I'm... I don't know if I'm ready for this,'' she says, starting to pace the room, the other girls parting ways as she pushes past them, "I'm not... I can't..." she gasps out her words before she crouches over, her head falling forward into her hands, her fingers gripping tightly at her hair. She lets out a quiet sob.

The rest of you exchange shocked looks, she had been so calm leading up to this. You're biting your lip and your mind is racing, unable to think of what to say to reassure her, to encourage her to what... suck it up? If this was hard for you, it was definitely a hundred times worse for her. You hate yourself for getting stuck on your musings when she was clearly the one most affected by this. You don't know anymore if you're worthy or even the right person to give her the comfort she so desperately needed.

But the more you look at her, the harder it is to keep away. You can't help yourself anymore, approaching her, placing your hands on her shoulders, trying without using pesky words to convey your support.

You still feel her shaking but it slows the longer you stay by her side, you feel her hand reaching for yours to interlace them together. It's subtle and you know from the angle you are sitting that no one else can see what you are doing.

"We're here with you, Beca," Aubrey says, her voice steady and sure over the video call almost as if she were there. "No matter what is shown we'll deal with it. Together."

"Together." Cynthia Rose reaffirms.

"I mean, they are the ones actually there, but for me at least figuratively, in aca-spirit you could say." Aubrey finishes off.

Beca snorts but also gives a pained sigh as she stands, "let's just get this over with." she says as she takes the seat never once letting go of your hand. You feel the thrum of her pulse, the speed of it. She's terrified and trying her hardest not to show it.

She breathes shakily but her mouth's set looking determined, holding on tightly her fingers wrapped around yours, in front of the others who are seemingly paying no attention to your interaction. You realise that in that moment, she doesn't care. There's a sliver of relief that runs through, you can barely tamper down the smile that comes on. You give her hand a gentle squeeze and she responds with the same a few moments later. She's wearing a very tiny crooked smile as she does so.

You feel a protective energy run through you. You don't know how this even happened but whoever had a hand in this would pay. If you found out who it was. And the who of it all was driving you mad.

You don't want to be feeling this way, but it was becoming apparent that the culprit was probably someone in the same room. It's one thing to be scared, paranoid, and feel like the whole world was against you; it's another to suspect even the ones you call your friends.

Friends. The very people you had chosen. There had only been the girls there that night. Your girls: Fat Amy, Cynthia Rose, Stacie, Beca, Aubrey, and yourself. They were your friends that had become your family during the whole run of the show and you had trusted them with this, this all too important secret and you had been betrayed. It felt like a slap to the face. You had been blindsided.

Worse was that they had also betrayed Beca.

You know you aren't supposed to blame them but you can't help it. This couldn't all be a happy accident. One of them had to be involved, be complicit somehow. Your mind is jumping back to possible scenarios. You feel like you're seeing them in a different light, a more conniving one. Now you can't help observing them one by one, measuring them up.

Who would benefit the most from this? Stacie? Cynthia?

Fat Amy catches your eye and you both smile but it feels strained.

'This had to be her doing, it was her phone.' It had been a new model and she had been keen to document the night with it. Had she sold you guys out, was she feeling threatened now that Team Beca's girls stood in her way on the road to stardom?

Or Stacie, she had asked, or was it pressured Fat Amy, to share her videos through the group chat at one point.

Or Cynthia Rose, with her gambling problems, thinking she could make a quick buck out of them to pay for her debts.

For a fleeting moment you wonder if it was even Aubrey. You know she didn't exactly approve of your friendship with Beca. You dismiss that notion quickly, knowing you are clutching at straws. Aubrey had more to lose than anyone (being a lawyer from a prestigious firm) and this served no purpose to her.

At one point you'd even briefly wonder if you'd done it. You'd had a few drinks that evening but you were certain not drunk enough to be so irresponsible, unlike some people you knew your limits.

You shake your head harshly, trying to rid yourself of the notion, not liking where your thoughts are headed.

You understood Beca and her overly cautious tendencies fully now and you felt immensely more guilty, you know how much she valued her privacy and this was the ultimate betrayal, the worst kind of intrusion. She was supposed to be safe in her home amongst trusted friends. It seems like these days no one could be trusted. She had reacted badly before when she found out you had told them about your relationship in the first place.

You hate how it finally dawned on you now the extent of it all. You fully understood only now that she had been hurt.

Everyone had said that they hadn't shared anything from their phones and you wish you were able to trust them but who else could it have been? You don't know who to believe anymore.

You were currently watching the video and it showed a series of events from that night flashing back. It was literally Deja Vu, but it wasn't too bad. There are several clips with silly captions. Amy being dubbed as Fat Amy Winehouse. The phone is passed around showcasing just about everyone in different states of drunkenness. You're all silly, loud, and laughing. You remember most of it: Stacie sitting on Aubrey's lap, some of your drinking shenanigans, just before the movie watching, mercifully without any focus on Beca and yourself. You breathe a sigh of relief it seemed as all were safe for now.

But then suddenly, Fat Amy's face is close to the screen, her eyes are dazed and unfocused.

"Okay Fat Amy Winehouse here with an update on Coach Beca's sleepover. Everyone else seems down for the count but not me!" she slurs her words, trying to whisper but to no avail; her voice the booming noise of an inebriated person. She's trying to talk over some dialogue you hear -was it the movie playing in the background mixing with your other friends' half-asleep drunken ramblings; this part you were seeing for the first time.

Your memories would diverge from here on out as you remember you and Beca had both left the room at this point. Your heart speeds up as you remember the why-you had attempted to carry her to her room and after much struggling, you had made it up the stairway and somehow ended up making out with her... Beca and you exchange looks her eyes wide with barely concealed alarm but it seemed premature there was no danger since they managed to keep themselves in the room.

"Oh, wait what do we have here? Looks like we've got some people missing… let us see who could it be… oh, wait what...was that? What are you saying... huh? What? Get your hair out of your mouth! Audrey was it?" Fat Amy moves closer to a mess of smudged makeup and blonde hair and you see Aubrey lying slumped in a corner in the most unladylike pose you've ever seen her in.

"I look hideous," present-day Aubrey gasps over the phone and you gently shush her.

"Beca," on-screen Aubrey murmurs half-asleep already drooling, bits of candy stuck to her face.

"No, you're Aubrey, Aubrey. Beca is the tiny snarky brunette."

"-and where's that damned redhead?" Cynthia questions further, she looks so very comfortable, her eyes closed with her arms around Stacie's waist.

"They snuck away I suppose. I mean I would too, there's nothing remotely sexy going on here." Stacie says shaking Cynthia's arms off before she gets to her feet.

"I'm not sure if I was hallucinating or if it really happened but didn't Chloe carry Beca off so she could sleep and we could finally enjoy the movie?"Aubrey yawns out, voice deceptively steady,

It was a useless question to pose, Fat Amy was mobile but any previous sign of brain activity much less her memory was completely compromised as she was beyond plastered. She turns around looking at the screen as if seeing it for the first time. "What... oh yeah... this movie, oh… I don't even know what's happening right now... did the lead die already? It's kinda boring."

"Speaking of boring, let's liven things up then... who wants to join me and go find them?" Stacie whispers all conspiratory.

"YES. Why are you guys such weaklings? It's still early! Get moving." Fat Amy says just as she sways on the spot, the camera wobbling dangerously.

"LET'S VIDEOTAPE THIS SHIT!" Cynthia hollers, grabbing for the device. Both the phone and herself teetering, before both falling over into one of the sofa cushions. She doesn't pick herself back up, just groans deeply.

"Careful!" you hear Aubrey admonish.

"I'm not waiting for your weak asses." there's a hand reaching for the device.

You wonder if it was Stacie or was it Fat Amy at this point talking behind the camera at this point as everyone sounded slightly similar with their slurred tones and exaggerated actions.

The camera turns the opposite way away from their faces into the darkened space and you presume by the ruckus following that some of the girls were attempting to carry themselves and make their way out to the hall. You can see them slowly, shakily approaching the very stairway where you remembered kissing Beca senseless. Your heart thuds loudly, Beca's pulse is thrumming.

Then it ended abruptly and a timer showed with a countdown: twenty-four hours to go.

"Well, it seemed that there was something more to that clip." The newsreader explains, his shiny and slightly red face appearing on half of the laptop screen. "An eagle-eyed and keen fan has blown up the last clip. Here's a pixelated picture: it looks in one corner, like two figures locked in an embrace, or could it be more. The anonymous person owner of the Instagram account, ExposeMitchell, who leaked it the video a few hours ago, has promised the more juicy second part, one possibly involving Beca Mitchell, for a sum. Which begs the question, is this a money-motivated attack or simply someone trying to cause a stir and gain attention. Miss Mitchell's net worth is somewhere in the region-"

You jump slightly as Beca, who had become more and more quiet as the video played, her face paling and her hand gripping tighter to yours to keep herself from shaking, slammed the laptop lid shut.

"This is fucked up. Are you fucking kidding me? What is this blackmirror shit?"

"Beca, calm down." you try, to no avail, as she wrenches her wrist from your grasp. She's on her feet and pacing, looking more and more agitated with each pace. You can see she's fighting an inner monologue and you wish you could read her better.

She stops to rest her hands on one of the desks, breathing hard and shaking her head before she suddenly pushes everything off.

The noise is loud in the dark room. Everyone else winces and jumps as a couple of folders and desk knick-knacks fall to the ground whilst you hurriedly run to her, wrapping your arms securely around her to prevent further harm. You feel her trembling violently, breathing fast with all the emotions she can't or won't express before-

"Shit. SHIT! Fuck. God! WHY! Haven't I suffered enough? Why is this happening to me!?" she screams, the raw agony in it pierces at your heart, makes your hair stand on end, your blood turning cold. It hurts, this hurts so bad seeing her like this. All the pain she was feeling that you can't just simply kiss away or make better. You hold her tighter to you, trying in vain to hold everything... everything that seemed to be unraveling at the seams... together.

You feel her shaking as she collapses to her knees, bringing both of you to the floor. No one can quite look the two of you in the eye.

The door opens swiftly, flooding the dimly lit room with harsh light. Hank's in there before you can actually say anything. He quickly scans the room, surveying the damage.

"Becs?" he walks up to her and squats to her level, trying to establish eye contact. He's checking in on her without asking. He ignores you, or more likely, he's ignoring the position you are currently in.

She rubs at her eyes hurriedly as if remembering herself and where she was. She squeezes your arms signaling it was alright before she stands up.

"It's... I'm fine, it's nothing... any news?"

"Our detail has yet to trace the source, we're checking with the rest of the footage and the security of the building if anything seems amiss... if you are okay, I'll just inform you if there are any changes. I'll be outside, holler if you need anything ladies, anything at all."

You silently nod, you sense everyone else do the same. Beca stays rooted to the spot as Stacie pushes the laptop back onto the table. Beca had almost shoved it off the table earlier. Stacie lifted the lid, making all the right moves as if to switch the machine off. You can see the timer is still counting down, the editor had added in a dramatic sound effect, each second beeping away the noise resounding in your head.

Despite being one of her biggest fans, you can't understand why someone would be so excited to tear Beca down. This wasn't newsworthy, this was pure maliciousness. This was being treated like a game and for what?

"I can't think... with all this... I can't breathe. I can't..." Beca tries so very hard to keep it together but you can see the worry etched on her face.

"It's going to be okay." You say, rubbing your hand up and down her thigh. "Just breathe with me, nice and gently." She copies your rhythm and you see a few of the lines on her face smooth out a little.

Stacie shuts the laptop closed but stares at it as the fan quietly stops spinning.

"They could be bluffing." Aubrey's voice comes over your phone.

"Or they could have the dirt to end my career and end everything I've worked so hard to build," Beca says, her voice trembling. Her face in her hands.

"There's no need to overreact Beca we don't know for sure what's in it yet, we could've gone to another part of the house for more shenanigans, or maybe turned back around and just continued with whatever movie we were watching or even just passed out right then and there," Aubrey says sensibly, her tone steady. The 'I've got it all under control' voice that you knew so well carrying over strong on the line.

Beca starts to bristle.

"Overreact?! Are you fucking kidding me, Bree? It's all there... there's a picture." you tentatively place a hand on her shoulder to quell the beginnings of another outburst.

"They don't see anything. It's pitch black, that could be a statue for all they know, plus pictures can be altered Beca."

"Okay, first things first we need to find out if anyone else can recall what else was filmed after? I know we were drunk but doesn't that part jog your memories yet? I know, I wasn't with you guys. Wasn't it just you Amy, who was videoing all night?" Aubrey asks in full lawyer mode.

"Not really no, my phone was passed around at some point. As I distinctly remember you all were eager to test my baby out, having the best camera and all. Also cos I couldn't care less about dropping it and such. I was recording for memories' sake but I wasn't gonna do anything with them." Fat Amy says, her voice small.

"All I know is that we agreed not to post anything," Stacie says, but her eyes shoot towards Fat Amy.

"I don't like the accusation in your tone. Why are you all assuming I did it?" Fat Amy asks, sounding hurt.

"It was your phone, Amy! This isn't the time to act airheaded! You're, like, suspect number one right now!" Stacie all but shouts at her.

"If anyone was being suspicious, it was you, Stace! Weren't you the one repetitively asking me to send you copies? I was the one, even while drunk, mind you, who decided not to send anything. I may act crazy most of the time but I wouldn't dare do something this risky, I wouldn't be that stupid and I wouldn't do something like that to my friends. "I'm not airheaded enough to ruin what we've got here." Fat Amy said, indicating the small group in the room.

You recall Aubrey once saying that more often than not, the reason why people did this sort of thing was for the attention, so they could get caught. She always said that whoever had done wrong eventually couldn't live with the guilt of what they'd done or at least had to let someone know of it. So you were just listening but as Amy stopped speaking, you had a sudden thought.

"I have a question, I just want to clear something up." The girls all turn to you, their expressions guilty and a little bit wary. Beca looks at you bewilderedly not understanding where you were taking this. "Does anyone have some sort of clear picture on how'd they actually got back to the sleepover area?"

"No, that's where it got all blurry, but I know I never moved. I stayed in the room, as I'd passed out there, ass up, face down in the cushions until morning." Cynthia Rose said.

"So that's Cynthia Rose's involvement... anyone else?" Aubrey swiftly moves the questioning along.

"I remember seeing you passed out on the couch as well Aubrey." You say an unflattering image of her with her mouth wide open and her legs splayed at a weird angle, resurfacing from the depths of your mind.

"I went to the toilet to puke after following Stacie for a bit... I think that's where I fell asleep until Marie found me a little later and told me to go back to bed." Fat Amy shrugs.

"That leaves..."

Stacie glances up.

"Like I said before..." She started to explain. "I went looking for Beca, but I saw Chloe and her together and saw that they were... preoccupied, so I didn't stick around."

"But were you holding the phone at that point, weren't you? Did you catch them in an incriminating act? Did you stand there and video them for an extended amount of time?" Aubrey presses.

"I don't... I might have… but I'm not sure. I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to see anything. I mean, I knew that it was private." Stacie says finally, her voice shaking as she becomes flustered, her voice breaking under pressure. As tall as she is, she suddenly looks small and so young. "And I wanted the videos because I wanted them to be safe. I didn't feel like Amy would have kept them safe. My phone at least is encrypted and has more than basic security to get in."

"Hey, I'll let you know only a few select people know my password!" Amy can't resist chiming in.

"Everyone knows your password is your birthday, Amy!"

"Cut it out, guys!" You finally say, tired of the petty digs and insults that were slowly causing a rift between your little family.

"Actually does anyone else remember videoing them together at any point?" Aubrey asks,

"No…?" Fat Amy looks to Stacie and Cynthia. Their heads swivel comically as the other two do the same, somehow reminding you of the three stooges, which would've been amusing under different circumstances

"None of you sound too sure," Aubrey states the obvious.

"I mean they were being all flirty the whole night... but then again so was Stacey with every... thing." Cynthia Rose explains.

"The whole thing is just so irresponsible," Aubrey says, flatly.

"We were all just having fun. We're at least entitled to it after all the stress we've been subjected to." Fat Amy says.

"And none of you thought it would have any consequences. That's why I always tell my celebrity clients to just avoid any documentation, no videoing or picturing anything personal even more so incriminating acts at all or at least to keep their devices encrypted." Aubrey says, and you pick up on her tone change.

"Too late for that now." you murmur darkly.

"You forget you were right there drinking and stripping right along with us, Bree." Stacie says. "Plus that's really unfair as there was no harm intended…"

"No harm intended?" Beca suddenly says, her voice thin and watery. She perched on the edge of the desk, leaning down to rest her hands on her knees.

Her eyes are rimmed red , her body trembling with barely controlled emotion. "I have lived my life carefully building up my reputation. I haven't harmed anyone, I'm a good person... and this... this is my legacy at risk. But not only that, this is me not being ready to divulge the truth about myself on national television just yet, and being not even nudged out but dragged out of whatever place of comfort I'm in. This sucks... I'm just not... I haven't figured what I am yet. Why should everyone else get a say?"

"I would never out a sapphic sister. Never." Cynthia Rose swore vehemently. Beca flinches at the unfamiliar term about herself.

"I'm not-" she shakes her head harshly like she was trying to erase the very notion away, "It's not just about me… Chloe... this could ruin her."

'Ruin us' is what you hear.

Her voice cracks as she looks over to you, "She already gets flak and unwanted attention from the press as it is." You can't express how you're feeling at that moment. Overwhelmed doesn't quite cover it.

Stacie was crying. "We'd never do this to you guys. We love you both."

"I swear on my life, I never posted that video." Amy says.

"Did any one of you guys so happen to maybe talk about that night in front of others?" Aubrey prods further,

The three exchange furtive glances. Stacie once again speaks up.

"We may have mentioned it... but like not in detail of course and only amongst ourselves."

"Yeah, and we don't use their real names." Amy explained. You don't want to know what they call you behind your backs.

"If this is the case then… we'll have to look at it as a hacking." Aubrey says.

"Or maybe we're making it far more complicated than it is. Maybe... possibly someone just intercepted your phone." Beca suggests.

"I don't…" Fat Amy opens and closes her mouth, then shakes her head unsure.

"Think, you have to think. Between Beca's house and going home, did you run into anyone? Did you place your phone down anywhere or leave it unattended?" Aubrey asks her voice rising; she's desperately trying to get to the bottom of this whole thing, you know how she's at her breaking point, you see how hard she's working at reigning in her exasperation,

And for the first time ever since getting to know her Fat Amy's voice is shaky, thin and embarrassed as she answers haltingly at first but then it all comes spewing out.

"Well... that's the thing... my phone was missing... for a short period of time... just before the show. I remember it was just gone from my bag at one point and then it showed up around the room. I didn't think anything of it then 'cause you know how I leave stuff in the most random places sometimes."

You close your eyes, clenching hard, smothering your groan of frustration. You love Amy to death but how could someone be so freaking irresponsible. But that was kinda her thing, she wasn't the most reliable when it came to anything serious.

"And you only thought to mention this now?" Stacie says, still enraged but dabbing at her tears.

"I didn't think it mattered at the time." Fat Amy says so dejected and so unlike her, you don't have it in you to even be mad anymore.

All you can think is Careless .

You were all so stupidly careless, naive and young. You thought you were untouchable but this was just further proof that there were some truly shit people in the world.

Beca becomes silent, " Okay thanks for answering our questions. I'm sure it mustn't have been easy for everyone. I'll have to talk to my team. They must be sick of me at this point, It's just been one thing after the other…"

You instinctively know that Beca's had enough. She's overwhelmed and wants out of the room, the same as you. You blindly wonder where she's going to go after she leaves the studio. You watch her slide off the desk and smooth down the front of her shirt. She looks around at everyone.

"Amy, I'm going to need you to surrender your phone so we the team can take a look at it, maybe trace your history. It's not that I don't trust you… I just want to be thorough."

"I really don't know how this happened. I erased whatever I had on my phone the very next day." Fat Amy says, sounding truly desperate.

"Some phones have ways to recover newly deleted files." You say as a way to contribute.

"I'm truly sorry for the part I played." Stacie softly confesses.

"The last thing any of us wanted was to hurt you guys." Cynthia Rose says.

"We...I never meant any of this to happen, Becs. I can't say it enough." Fat Amy says before she and the rest of them start to gather their belongings.

"I know, I know… I just have the shitiest luck." Beca says, trying to make light of the situation as she glances at you quickly, as if you've suddenly reminded her of something.

You reach for your phone, seeing the look on Aubrey's face before you hastily say your goodbye before hanging up and you know that, for you, the conversation is not over.

"It's okay girls." Beca moves to hug each one of them, your heart feels full watching her initiate affection, whispering words of encouragement, "Let's call it a night. We're all tired, we need to rest for the results night."

The group all nod, knowing there's little else you can all do.

"You all know the drill by now. We just need to keep mum about everything. Just keep a low profile girls, if we can manage that... we'll be fine and then wait for the next scandal to overshadow it." she says with hope, trying to end the night on a lighter note.

Soon you were all dismissed. Beca reaches for the door handle and calls in Frank and a few other people who were loitering in the lobby, to relay the new information and perhaps come up with a game plan on how best to handle the situation. You see her eyes linger helplessly on you as the door closed.

That can't be it, it felt so unfinished. You wonder what they would come up with, if all else failed, would Beca decide to sever ties once and for all?


"So that's it, we'll really just call it a night then?" Fat Amy asks, looking around her eyes eager to make contact, you lower yours to the floor.

"Yeah Aims... I think it's best we... do." you say to the agreement of Cynthia.

"Yep, we still have to keep it on the down-low and stuff," Cynthia says.

"And we're trying to stay out of trouble," Stacie stresses further to drive the point.

"Yeah, of course. I just thought... maybe we'd talk some more over coffee, but yeah I wasn't really thinking, sorry. " She quickly backtracks, looking appropriately chastised.

"Wouldn't be the first time." You hear Stacey mutter. It bothers you but you know that's how she was when upset. And that's what you all were tired and more than a little upset with the situation perhaps even more so with each other,

"Anyone need a ride?" Fat Amy presses on, extending another olive branch.

"I actually have my car." Cynthia Rose says.

"I'm good. Bye Chlo. Let's go Cynthia. " Stacie says before she walks away with Cynthia Rose, who waves hurriedly, in tow, leaving the two of you with your mouths agape. She was upset but really that was uncalled for-you'd need to have a word with her.

"I'm good as well, but really, thanks Amy. We all need time to cool off." You say, rubbing her shoulder, trying to soften the blow.

"Stace can bitch all she wants if that's what she needs. I'm a big girl I can handle her. But...what I can't handle is not knowing where I stand. You believe me... don't you Chlo?" she asks her eyes uncharacteristically shiny.

"I don't know… " Her face already so uncharacteristically serious drops. You can't mince words with her. "I know you didn't mean for what happened to happen. I also know you wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt us. If that's believing in you, then yes, I do." You say and she's quick to hug you in response.

"Thanks. This is hard for me to say.. and I'm about to do something very unlike me so I'll say it once and let's keep it between us okay, ginger?"

You can only nod.

"I know... I'm not as perfect as I led you all to believe. I'm a hot mess... I'm not the most responsible or reliable person in the world. I'm practically useless. I use humor as a defense mechanism..I'm never truly serious about anything... well that's not entirely true. I'm very serious about our friendship. I never want to go through something like this again. This is hurting me, right now. And you don't know how much it means to me that you still... believe in me. I just want you to know that I truly appreciate your kindness. I knew there was a soul in there somewhere." She tries at a joke and it's not lost on you.

"You're okay. We're... it's going to be okay." You say trying to reassure her and maybe yourself a little as well.

She nods and squeezes your arm before backing away, and turning around. You can tell she is upset by her sloping shoulders like she carried the weight of the world on them, her hands are dug into the back pocket of her pants.

You feel sadness wash over you as you watch your friends walk away feeling the distance far more profoundly. You're left by yourself outside Beca's office, waiting to catch some alone time with her, even if it was just to say goodnight.

You walk around the unusually quiet backstage alone with your loud thoughts your feet leading you towards the stage-the one place where once you felt most at home. Each one of your most memorable performances was here, Beca and the girls by your side. You can't help feeling nostalgic for those carefree, fun-filled days. You were all still so young but why did it feel like the whole world was against you.

The girls were right, no one had meant this to happen. To have your most private, intimate moments picked apart and targeted online. It felt needlessly cruel.

Maybe if this was a different place, a different time, a different set of girls.

But no you were all smackdab in the middle of a live show that had received more press and drama than any other show before. So no one had meant for any of this to happen. Maybe not intentionally, but still the damage was done.

It was painful, but from here on out you would have to cut them off from all things Bechloe related for their safety as well. Better they don't know anything.

At the back of your mind, you register that the meeting was taking way longer than you expected-maybe it was best you go on ahead. You feel it was better to worry at home than here all alone in the dark. Your mind tended to wander. At this point, you're thinking what other actions they could possibly take to keep protecting Beca and your secret. You wonder how much more they could limit your freedom-you already had all the unwanted attention and you couldn't get enough time to yourselves-you wonder how long this could even possibly go on for. You wonder if there was any way this could end well.

"I thought I had dismissed you already." Beca flippantly says as a way of greeting. You jump a foot in the air- you think you hear a laugh -she's way too amused at successfully sneaking up on you from behind the stage where she finds you walking alongside the judge's chairs.

"You did but we hardly spoke one word to one another-I wanted to check on you." you carefully say, trying to gauge her mood. She looks stern but she shakes her head at you fondly.

"You're all meant to be resting." she takes a look around perhaps thinking the rest of them had been hard-headed as well.

"They went ahead but...how could I? I'm too restless not knowing what the aftermath of all this could be."

"I'm sorry, but can I just say that none of this would have happened if we had kept them out of everything in the first place." she says and you can't tell if she's being serious but somehow the effects all the same as if it was.

"Yes, I know...I fucked up. I-" you say and somehow you're already near crying, surprised at the sudden onslaught of emotions, probably the guilt catching up to you feeling like a dam was finally let loose. You're all ready to spew unlimited apologies, to break down, ready to fall to your knees but she cuts you off. There's an intensity to her features that makes your heart speed up, makes you stand still-freezes you in place.

"-No, no. Hey! Chlo I was semi-joking. Sorry." Before you know she's standing right before you, her breath hot against your face, warm hands taking your cheeks directing your eyes to hers, contrite blues staring back at you, her thumbs caressing your skin reassuringly. You feel your lids close at the feeling, leaning into her touch, "that wasn't what I was getting at...I wasn't trying to blame you...I could never blame you. I was just thinking the whole time I was in there that despite all that's happened I could never regret having all of you in my life, you're the people I care about. I realize it comes with the territory of letting yourself become vulnerable... you open yourself up to all the emotions; sadness, disappointment, happiness." you feel her hands leave your face to brush your hair behind your ear, before she lowers them and settles them on your shoulders.

Your eyes open, you feel like your ears are betraying you, uncertain of what you were hearing.

"I'm not quite sure I follow what you're getting at-also who are you and what have you done to my Beca?"

At long last she smiles and the mere moment makes your breath catch, makes your heart speed up.

"I don't know. I guess you could say the old Beca would've considered running away and hiding from all her emotions, but the new Beca knows she has someone waiting for her to talk her emotions over with." her eyes focused intently on your face, she's looking at you so fondly it makes you lower yours for a moment, makes you flush all the way down to your toes. You lift your head once again

"Okay... we're speaking in third person then so I guess that's good for current Chloe?"

"I suppose Beca thinks it is" she laughs but shakes her head her eyes once again taking on that intensity, drinking your features almost hungrily, "But what Beca... what I'm trying to tell you that... all of this..." She waves her hand around a little. "... caring for people other than myself. Not being so guarded all the time. You don't get it Chloe. Until you, I never, I never would have thought to let anyone in... more so, a whole group of people into my life."

"And for that, I can only apologize-"

"-No, you don't have to do that," Beca says, moving impossibly closer to you. "I'm just trying to say that I never really knew how much I was capable of... caring , until you..."

She cocked her head to the side and smiled that sad smile that had no business weighing down her glorious features.

"I never knew before that there are really some people worth risking it all for." you see a sheen in her eyes and you feel your own eyes tearing up, you're feeling so overwhelmed with her words, the words you had been least expecting, yet somehow you didn't feel like you deserved them just yet.

"Don't say that!" You say, taking a half step back and wrapping your arms around yourself. "The last thing I want to be is the reason that you lose everything that you've worked so hard for."

You don't get it, do you?" She says, casually looking over her shoulder to check there wasn't anyone around. "My work, heck my life had no meaning then-It didn't matter much about Jesse and I... it wasn't real. it didn't really touch me. But you... this…. all of it. It was one of the things that were truly mine, just mine. It didn't belong to the studio, it wasn't part of a contract or obligation. It somehow remained untouched by all of that... until this all happened."

You take in her words with care, trying not to overreact at what she said. She was watching your reaction but you tried so hard to remain impassive.

"The only thing that's really pissing me off is in the midst of all of this, what'll come out of everything is that I look like the immoral tramp and Jesse the good guy. Fuck, it's like no matter what I do he wins. " She finishes off, breathing heavily shaking her head.

You bite your lip hard, you'd give anything to take away this burden for her if there was a way you could take this on yourself, you'd do it.

"He doesn't have to... you control the narrative. You can..you could decide to come... come clean." you say, the words leaving your mouth before you could think it through, somehow you're still able to edit your wording last minute-still Beca's eyes flash dangerously, understanding your intention.

You find yourself regretting the word vomit immediately as she pulls away putting some distance between the two of you. You feel the cold wash over you without her warmth enveloping you.

" No , that's not- " she's shaking her head vigorously, "there's no way on God's green earth that that would be happening." she forces out the words between gritted teeth,

"I just thought-" You were getting the wrong idea you thought that with all that she was saying she sounded like she could be ready to take some risks but... baby steps it was always baby steps with this one. "I thought that that was one way you could subvert his plan to paint you as the bad guy." you manage to get out.

"I should get to decide when I... come out ." she almost chokes on the word, "not anyone else. I get to decide this. They can't take this from me." Her voice trembles and yet her eyes are steadfast.

You feel shame wash over you-dammit you were such an unfeeling bitch at times. Who were you to force your wants on her? This was her journey and you had no business doing so. You try your best to remedy that.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking... of course, no one should dictate to you when it is you should feel ready. It's always been your choice. And I'm here to support you-"

"But I'm not ready." she stresses, becoming emotional, "I don't think I'll ever feel ready... maybe with some time but not like this… Not with some outside pressures-trying to force me into a neat little box...I never wanted this. I don't want anything to do with this." She's hugging herself, her face turned away from you. You wait for the pin to drop that this was it, any moment now she'd run away screaming about how you and all of this just wasn't worth it.

She was going to end it. It was the only option, the sane one and you couldn't even blame her for it. It was probably for the best as you couldn't keep putting her career in danger like this.

"So you want us to end this... is that what you're trying to tell me here? I mean I don't blame you...I totally understand if you want to put us on pause for a while until this all blows over-"

"-What? No!" she almost shouts. "That's one you got from all that?" Her eyes widen and look desperately towards you which takes you by surprise when you see the anguish in them, you see her biting her lip trying to reign in her emotions.

"I don't know..."

"Of course not! Why would you-"

She sees your shiny eyes and the tears coursing down your cheeks and her face becomes solemn.

"-Chloe." she says your name so softly, her voice filled with so much care and understanding, it makes you cry harder." I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, I know I'm agitated and all over the place... and I can't get any of my words straight...plus this isn't the best situation to be in…" she breathes raggedly, wiping a hand across her face. "but there's no way I can get through this on my own. I need you with me. I'm always gonna need you... Also we just had our first official date, and it was totally one of the best nights of my existence so there's no way I'm giving this up so easily."

You gulp hard and wipe the tears from your face. Beca looks away but you see that her expression is pained, almost angry at herself for making you so upset. Her eyes regain that intense quality, she looks almost desperate to get her message clearly across.

"I'm not going to end this. I don't ever want to end this. Cos whatever this is going on between us, it's all I've ever wanted in life. To belong to someone and to have someone truly mine. "

You're on the verge of tears again, dwelling closer to ugly crying territory (but had you actually ever left) you're trying to keep the sniffling to a minimum, wishing you had a Kleenex in your pocket.

"We just can't risk anything else going out, the media crew are all working on this video right now. I'm sorry but we can't involve the girls in this any longer."

You nod, knowing that she's right. You open your mouth to speak when she snaps her head up to look at you again.

"Wait, you really thought I wanted to end this?" she asks softly, her eyes are wide looking at you imploringly, she looks truly disappointed.

"Yeah." You say quietly. Her thumbs caress your cheek, wiping away your tears. She leans in to kiss your lids, then your temple.

"Silly girl. What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm serious about this? I'm done being a flight risk. I can't go back to the way it was before I was just weightless and wandering aimlessly around and you, you ground me. You make me want to stay."

"But I've caused you so much-" It's hard to get out when your throat burns and your heart aches, because this was your biggest regret, bringing all this uncertainty into her life but she's there shushing you, unwrapping your arms from around your chest, and placing them loosely around her waist,

"-You've caused me nothing." She says softly as she tucks her head under your chin, "This will blow over as I said earlier and if not, the media team will work their magic they'll get to the bottom of it then cause a stir elsewhere."

You can't quite still your sobs but it's no longer sadness it carries but relief.

"You heard me, Chloe?" She places a kiss to the crook of your neck and follows the pathway upwards stopping just by your ear, making you shiver involuntarily "You have caused me nothing but you've given me everything, everything I could ever hope to have and so much more. My career is one thing but what we have is far more important. Whatever may happen, we're in this together now, Chloe."

You can't even begin to respond to that, your heart feels too full.

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?" she says, leaning back trying to make eye contact, "What are you thinking?" she whispers brushing your hair out of your face, taking away what you were using to hide from her probing eyes.

"This all sounds too good to be true." You say. "What has gotten into you? You were in there for so long and a part of me honestly thought that you'd come out and tell me that that would be the last I'd be seeing you."

"I admit they suggested early on that it would make my life easier if I just ended things, maybe even have you removed you from the show." Beca says and you breathe in sharply, a pain blooming in your chest. She looks up and you see the same anguish in her eyes. "As soon as I heard it, I just... I shut down that idea immediately. I may have fired the person on the spot. I couldn't even fathom that... not having you near, not seeing you whenever I wanted. They couldn't keep me away from you even if they tried."

"I still don't get it-"

"What's so hard to get?"

"Why are you so being so good to me? You could've taken that opportunity and gotten rid of me, made things easier for yourself. Why after everything I put you through would you even choose me?" you don't know why you sound so adamant or so angry but you do.

Beca shrugs her shoulders, looking towards the stage curtains for a couple of seconds breathing deeply, 'she has no answers' you think, wildly feeling like laughing, before she looks back, her eyes boring into yours, "I guess... I've signed myself up for that... and I really don't care much for easy anyway but mainly because... I love you, Chloe." she smiles this soft helpless smile.

You blink slowly.

"I'm in love with you." she stresses, her voice small but sure and full of such emotion.

You swear your heart stops for a moment before it starts up again, thumping so loud you can feel it pounding in your chest.

It felt like you've waited so long, more than half your life for those words from Beca and for them to actually come from her own lips. It hardly feels real, you half expect to be shaken from a dream,

"Wait... you... love... me?"

"How could I not?"

Your body moves on its own accord, not caring that you were still within office grounds, it leads you all the way to her arms, with your own finding purchase around her waist and hers around your neck. You find yourself pushing Beca into her own chair with you clambering onto her lap, your lips finally meeting in a searing kiss. Beca though surprised at the sudden attack accepts your weight smoothly.

"I love you too." you say and those are the last words you say for the next few minutes, the two of you getting lost in each other warmth, showing each other just how much.


"I know Fat Amy can be pretty out there but I really want to believe her. She has no ill intentions towards anyone... well maybe except Bumper Allan." you say moments later after you resurface for much-needed air, the two of you nuzzling comfortably in what was now the love seat. You would never see the chair the same way again.

"She wouldn't lie about something like this." Beca agrees with you.

"None of them would. I trust them. I hate to say it but I had a moment of doubt to begin with but it quickly went away."

"That story about her phone... Who else could have accessed it?" Beca asked.

"It had to be someone who works here." you state.

"That's a lot of suspects."

"But only a few people have access to the same room as us contestants."

"We have the PAs, the make up artists, vocal coaches," Beca trails them off one by one.

You don't know why, but if you had a suspect there was only one person you had in mind.

"Music directors." you finish softly.

She looks shocked but her face clears, not even bothering to contest it.

"I know. But would he risk it. We have CCTV around this whole building. Believe me I've asked the security team to look into it, they're gathering it up now."

"So you're saying us fooling around could be caught on tape?"

"I guess there are blindspots that I'm very well aware of and plus I'm tiny there are several angles you could have me where you wouldn't even notice I was there the whole time-"

You pull away anyway when you hear fast-paced footsteps approaching. You think it might be one of the late-night security officers doing the rounds of the backstage but you are surprised when Cameron Mitchell comes walking in.

"Dad!" He's quick to swoop in and pull Beca from the chair, ignoring you as he wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly to his chest. Beca sinks into his embrace.

"Beca, sorry I came as soon as I heard-"

"-Dad, I really don't want to have to involve you in this. " Beca starts, still not used to relying on him for anything. Cameron interrupts.

"I'm already involved, you're my daughter. I've been kept out of all of this long enough Becs."

She lets out a sarcastic little laugh which makes you smile, "Okay, fine. Seems like I don't have a choice in the matter. "

"You're absolutely right, you don't. What happened with the girls? Did anyone come forward? Do you have a suspicion who's behind it? What has your team said about it?" Cameron fires his questions and you find your feet and stand up. He gives you a brief nod, acknowledging you finally.

"We took Fat Amy's phone and the team are already working on it." Beca explained. She gives you a smile as you move to stand next to her. "I don't think the girls are involved, they have nothing to gain from doing this."

"Hmm." Cameron said thoughtfully.

"I think we've all but confirmed that Jesse had something to do with it, I'm positive." Beca said.

"Says who?" Cameron asked.

"It couldn't be anyone else Dad. We just need confirmation, which is what my team is working on. We'll have proof soon."

"No, you won't." Cameron explains, reaching into his pocket for his cell. "I'm here because I had my own set of people looking into it and the security footage brought up someone completely different."

"Who?" Beca asked as Cameron showed his daughter the phone. He pressed the video play button and a grainy image flickered on his screen.

You heard Beca gasp as she looked to you in surprise.

"After all I've done for her!" Beca exclaimed, pushing the phone towards you, rage evident on her face.

"Wait, that's…" you say as you recognize the figure immediately-tall and distinctly female.


The chapter was too long and I had to opt out with my now signature cliffhanger. Expect the next one soon!