A/N: Hello all. Fun fact, I wrote this chapter a few weeks ago, decided I hated, trashed the whole thing and rewrote it. The first draft went a different direction than this one, but this one brings a little bit of the conflicts that I've been working towards.

Ch 8

Chloe woke with a lazy smile, feeling sore in all the right places. She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms up over her head and moaned once her muscles were satisfied. Dropping her arms back down, she rubbed her eyes before opening them as she turned to look beside her as she spoke.

"Good morn- "

Her words fell off upon seeing the empty space in her bed. Sitting up quickly, she looked into the connected bathroom's open door, hoping to spot Beca within.

Nothing.

She sighed in disappointment.

She thought back to the night before; when Beca held her and said she wanted to stay. Chloe knew of the rumors of Beca's reputation when it came to relationships. Mainly that she was never really in them reportedly. Stories of her being a 'playboy', for lack of a better word, were often littered across the rags along with grainy snapshots like the one Aubrey had shown her.

But Chloe was embarrassed to admit to herself that she hoped this would be different. That she would be different. Yet here she was, alone the morning after. She sighed dejectedly and set about starting her morning while thinking about what working with Beca would be like now. Were they supposed to pretend nothing happened between them? Chloe didn't know if she could do that.

Not after the way Beca opened up to her last night. Not after what they experienced together.

She'd just pulled her shirt over her head when a voice came.

"Oh, you're up," Chloe jumped in surprise when she saw Beca standing there, "…and wearing clothes."

Chloe just stared at her for a moment, "You're here."

At her obvious observation, Beca looked self-conscious.

"Should I not be?" she looked down at herself and Chloe realized for the first time that Beca was only clad in her bra and underwear, "Should I get dressed too? I can go, if- "

"No, no," Chloe said quickly, shaking her head, "Sorry, I just… you weren't here when I woke up and I thought…"

"Oh," Beca realized what her assumption must've been. Rightly so, she supposed, "You thought I left without my clothes?"

She nodded over to the corner where Chloe hadn't noticed her clothing from the night before still lay in a heap.

"I was going to, I mean, I thought I'd make you some breakfast," Beca shrugged.

"You made breakfast? That's so sweet."

"Well, not really. I said I was going to, but I was in the kitchen and realized it would be cruel to subject you to anything I cooked. But I made coffee."

Chloe laughed.

"Well, it's the thought that counts," she said, stepping closer and dropping her arms over Beca's shoulders, "And it was a very sweet thought."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said softly and leaned in for a kiss.

"Mm, you should hear the thoughts I'm having right now."

Chloe let silence sit for a moment before gasping dramatically and patting her palm against Beca's cheek in a fake slap.

Beca laughed, "Ah, you heard that one, did you?"

"Loud and clear," she answered, playing along, "I may pay you back for that tonight."

Beca slid her hands beneath Chloe's shirt and ran her warm palms up her back, "Why wait?"

Chloe chuckled and dropped her forehead onto her shoulder; wishing she could oblige to exactly that. She groaned as she accepted that she couldn't.

"That sounds amazing," she admitted, "but I have to meet Aubrey and I have an interview with People before call."

"Or," she countered, "You forget all that, and these clothes, and we just stay here all day."

"Ugh, don't tempt me."

Chloe kissed her again, pulling back before it could get too deep, "Come on, I'll make some real breakfast to go with that coffee."

She smiled brightly and left the room.

"Put some clothes on," she requested on her way out, "It's not fair."

Beca sighed, disappointed. She knew Chloe assumed she had been playing around, but she'd been serious. She didn't want to go back out to the world and on with life out there. She wanted to stay right there with Chloe where it felt like the rest of it didn't exist. She scratched her jaw and went over to pick up her jacket. She reached into the pocket while glancing over her shoulder to ensure Chloe wasn't returning and quickly slipped the pill into her mouth and swallowing quickly.

She closed her eyes, imagining it falling into her stomach and releasing into her system, just enough to keep her able to move through the day.

"Beca," she heard Chloe call out from within the apartment, "How do you like your eggs?"

She opened her eyes and wiped her face.

"Cooked," she called back and began to get dressed.

They were at soon at the table eating when Chloe got up the nerve to start a conversation that had been picking at her.

"So," she started and set her fork down, "I don't want to be that girl, but what does this mean?"

Beca swallowed her bite, "Breakfast?"

"Not that," she said with a nervous chuckle, "I mean, are we…together? Do you want to be something or is, was, this just sex?"

Beca set her own utensil down and looked at the plate; not looking at Chloe as she spoke.

"What do you want?"

She gave her a small smile, even though Beca couldn't see it.

"I asked you first," she said in a teasing tone. When Beca didn't respond other than to nervously run her fingers around the edge of the plate, she decided that playing wasn't the method to use here.

"Ok," she started again, "I like you, Beca. I really like you. I'd like to give this a real shot. If that's something you want too."

Beca finally looked up at her and cleared her throat.

"You should know," she said, "before you ask for this, I've never done, like, a real relationship. I don't even know the first thing about being in one. I'll probably end up disappointing you."

"And I'm sure there'll be times when I disappoint you," Chloe answered and shrugged, "We're just people, Beca. We make mistakes. But if this is something you want, I'm willing to try it out. With you."

Chloe reiterated that the ball was still in Beca's court. She'd noticed last night, several times, that Beca needed prodding to say what she wanted. She waited for Chloe to convince her to say it, to ignore the opposing thoughts or to ask her repeatedly what she wanted. Chloe suspected it was, at least in some part, thanks to whomever it was that put in her head that she couldn't do anything else with her life and matter.

"Beca, what do you want?" she asked directly, "If it's not a relationship, it's ok. We can still work together, still hang out and tears up muffins in that café. Be friends. Just tell me honestly what you want."

Beca remained quiet for a few minutes, causing Chloe to begin panicking a bit internally. She'd talked a fine game about everything being normal, but she knew it would be a struggle for her. She'd keep her promise, but it would be difficult.

After Beca seemed to settle on a thought, Chloe held her breath and waited.

"Could we keep it quiet?" she asked, "While we figure out if we work, I mean, it's not like I'd be ashamed or anything. It's not about you, it's just…I don't want people all about it; dragging you into my mess while we're trying to see how, if, we fit. I'm not exactly the best version of myself when photographers are buzzing around and I don't want that to be the person you're connected to."

Chloe reached over to lay a hand over Beca's, again thinking about how thoughtful she was being.

"Absolutely," she agreed with a smile, "We'll figure it out; slow and quiet."

"In public anyway. 'Cause if last night's any indication, I don't know how quiet you can be."

Chloe laughed and smacked the hand she'd been holding.

"Whose fault is that?" she asked and then leaned in, "Come here."

They shared another kiss, sealing their agreement like a handshake, before Chloe stood up and cleared their plates.

"On that note, is there a back way out of the building?" Beca asked, reluctantly accepting that they did indeed have to go back into the world.

Beca felt her phone buzz as she spoke and took it out, making note of all the missed calls and messages from Angela. No doubt her mother was pissed about her not being at the hotel that morning. Rolling her eyes, she simply put the phone back in her pocket and finished her coffee.

"Yeah," Chloe answered, "go left when you get off the elevator; there's a back parking lot that leads onto the street. I'm going to shower if you want to head out while I'm in there."

Beca nodded, "Sounds good. I'll see you later on set then?"

"Yep," she smiled, "Maybe we can arrive separately for a sneaky late dinner after?"

"It's a date."

"Mm, a date," she grinned happily, "I can't wait."

Beca felt her own smile pull at her own lips and let herself bask in the idea that this could be something special; something just hers that no one else could touch.

She rode the feeling all the way to work, though the building buzz from the pill probably helped.

By the time she got to the studio she was already regretting not taking her own advice and forgetting her obligations as she walked on set into the middle of a loud argument between Gail and John.

"…this shit show!" she heard the director shout at the writer who gasped in response.

"It may be a shit show, but it's my shit show and I refuse to let you disrespect it or my vision for it!"

"Why don't you go have a drink and untwist your panties?"

Gail stomped away from him, her line of retreat bringing her right into Beca's path.

"Hello," she greeted, still clearly frustrated. Beca nodded in response and was set to continue on when Gail spoke again, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Ok."

"What do you think of the story?"

Not expecting the question, Beca just shrugged, "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, but why? What about it made you want to do it? The action, the relationships, the characters, the money?"

Beca thought for a moment. It didn't seem like telling her that Angela accepted the offer for her before Beca ever even read the part would go over very well. She thought about the story. Chloe's character searching for her suddenly missing boyfriend and enlisting his sister, Beca's character, into the search and discovering a conspiracy along the way.

The more she thought about it, she acknowledged that it wasn't anything overly original, but it was different that what she'd done yet.

"It's different?" she answered in more of a question than a statement. It felt like a cop out but she didn't know what the woman wanted her to say.

"You think it's good? As it is?"

"Sure, why?"

Gail sighed, "Nothing."

Beca watched her go, confused, and was then surprised to hear Dominique speaking from nearby.

"She's a little stressed," the petite Brit informed.

"Yeah, I got that," she answered sarcastically, "What's that about?"

"Other than our director being a right prick?" somehow the insult still sounded elegant when spoken in her accent, "She's been talking about rewriting the ending and is getting some push back about it."

"Rewrites?" Beca repeated.

"A bit strange, yeah?"

Beca shrugged, pretty indifferent to it all. The job was the job. Whatever they decided, Beca would show up and read the words just the same. Not giving it any further thought, she excused herself to get ready for her scenes.

She entered her trailer with a hanger of her wardrobe for the day, hopefully to get dressed and have a few moments to herself before call time. Closing the door, she turned around and stopped.

"Of course," she said to herself when met with the sight of her mother sitting in her the trailer in a perfected dramatic power pose.

"So you are alive," Angela remarked with a quirk of her eyebrow, "Here I thought you must be dead since you couldn't seem to answer your phone."

"Lucky for your lifestyle, I'm still around to make money," she said as she walked by her and set the hanger on a hook.

"You make me sound so superficial."

"Imagine that," she muttered in reply and pulled her shirt over her head.

Her mother suddenly grabbed her wrist to halt her dressing; Beca hadn't even noticed her approaching.

"Cut the shit, Rebecca," she instructed, using her full name to show she meant business, "This is the second morning in a row you've vanished on me."

"Well that's just not true. I didn't vanish this morning, Angela," she disagreed, "I vanished last night."

"Oh I see," she said cynically, "So you were out all night with one of you ill-chosen interests. That's just lovely."

Beca laughed, "I wouldn't call her ill-chosen."

"Don't play games with me," she argued, "You were out all night and you have a ten hour day to get through."

Angela reached out and grabbed either of Beca's cheeks, tilting her head side to side while inspecting her.

"What are you- "she stopped when Angela let go of her and started digging in her purse. After a moment, she pulled out an orange bottle and dumped a few pills into her palm.

"Here."

"I already- "

"You were out all night. You know you have to be in top form, not nodding off or hungover and screwing things up for us."

"I- "

"Do it, Beca!" she ordered harshly and before Beca could try to explain, again, that she'd already taken something Angela grabbed her daughter by the back of her neck and forced the pills into her mouth.

Shocked and struggling against the unprecedented act, Beca felt herself swallowing before she could control it. She coughed a few times against the unexpected intrusion to her throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Nothing is wrong with me," she snapped back at her, "I'm only looking out for you; for us. I'm the only one looking out for us. Protecting what we've worked so hard for!"

"We?" Beca asked angrily, "We've worked so hard, have we? I didn't realize we were doing all those night shoots or locations in shitty weather or being poked and passed along vultures shoving microphones and cameras in our faces all these years!"

Angela shoved a water bottle roughly against her chest.

"Grow up!" she demanded, "Now get yourself together and do your job."

Beca looked at the bottle a moment, watching how it crinkled under her tightening grip.

"What if I don't want to?" she asked through clenched teeth; opening her eyes see her words land, "What if I don't want to do my job anymore? What if I just walk out of here and never show my face again?"

Angela held her stare with her own cold eyes for a second before her hand darted out and slapped her so quickly Beca heard it land before she felt it.

"Grow up!" Angela snarled; taking a moment to look at the redness blooming on Beca's pale skin, "I'll let make-up know you need a little extra attention today; Lord knows how your late-night exploits lead to little accidents."

Saying no more, Angela left the trailer, finding Jesse standing nearby, having been on the way out of his own trailer when he thought he heard shouting. He looked at the woman.

"Everything ok?"

"Oh yes," Angela answered perfectly, "You've heard how difficult Beca can be."

She gave him a perfect smile and continued on her way, leaving the actor to look back at the trailer a moment before he left as well.

Inside, Beca stared at the door, trying not to think about how Angela's hand had hit right on the spot Chloe had playfully pretended to slap her earlier. She threw the water bottle at the door as hard as she could before dropping into a seat and covering her face with her hands to muffle her long shout.

"Fuck!"

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