AN: Sorry for the delay with this chapter everyone. Things have been a little wild on my end. Let me know what you think! Any feedback is greatly appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything within the PP franchise.
Potential TW: Use of prescription drugs and brief mention of suicide.
Chapter Four: For This Life, I Cannot Change
Each word carries the weight of a fragment of my soul. Piece them together, stitch by stitch, and suddenly my heart is sewn to my sleeve. But it is within this life that I burned away the thread with a flame to light what helps those to forget. But it is within this life that I seek to numb, to 'un-feel' what I do with countless poisons and dazed nights. But it is within this life where my isolation became my only companion. But it is within this life that my addictions live free and run rampant. And for this life, I cannot change.
This was a dream. One big, terrible, nightmare of a dream. Any second, she'll wake up hungover with an extreme desire to disappear into her sheets.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me, Rebecca."
Alternate option: she's dead and the newest resident in Hell.
"It's not what you think!" Chloe quickly jumps away and ends up knocking their drinks off the table. Glass fractures and the shards scatter. The rest of the girls start to stir, blinking confusedly into life.
A tall woman with golden hair stood in the entryway. She wore a white blouse and form fitting blue jeans that ended in a pair of red-bottomed heels. Her skin was pale and unblemished but was beginning to flush in the cheeks of her face. Her eyes, bright green, were narrowed as her hands formed tightly clenched fists. She had quickly disposed of her designer handbag in the kitchen. It looked to have been thrown. Beca rushes into the living and Chloe was at her heels.
"Ana, please, I swear to god-"
"Don't Ana me right now-"
"I promise it's not what you think!"
Chloe, along with the rest of the girls, kept glancing back and forth at the two women locked in a passionate argument. Stacie was grinning wildly at the unexpected entertainment while Aubrey rolled her eyes and returned to her phone. Somehow Beca's hair became even crazier and her eyes were much more tired than Chloe remembers seeing. Her shoulders were rigid in a posture that screamed exhaustion.
"Please," she begs quietly, "let me explain."
The blonde glares at her, green eyes burning. "You have thirty seconds."
"We were in an argument when you walked in, I swear."
"We were," Chloe agrees, but quickly shuts up at the resulting stare from the blonde. The redhead chuckles nervously and glances at Aubrey. She finds no help.
"And who exactly might you be?" Ana's attention is now focused solely on Chloe. Her head tilts slightly to the right, similar to a cat. Unfortunately for Chloe, she was the prey. Chloe only lifts her chin. Her stubborn-will overpowering any urge to turn away.
"I could ask the same thing to you, sweetheart."
Oh no.
Ana laughs haughtily, flipping long, yellow hair over her shoulder. Her nails were manicured and styled meticulously with lilac paint. Gold charm bracelets danced around her wrist as she placed her hand on her hip.
"Ladies, come on, let's sit down like adults-"
"I'm Anastasia fucking Kelley, and you are?"
"Seriously, please stop-"
"I'm Chloe fucking Beale, pleased to make your lovely acquaintance," Chloe smiled sweetly.
"STOP."
The volume Beca produced shocked the room and all eyes finally rested on her.
Breathe. Just breathe. It's fine. You're fine.
The air was sucked from her lungs. Her heart beat a fast staccato. She desperately clawed at something, anything other than this feeling. The room was spinning. No, it's not. She can't feel her hands. Yes, you can. Everyone is staring. Yes, they are.
"What the hell, Beca?" Ana says. She doesn't get a response. "Um, earth to Beca?" She snaps her fingers. Again, no response. The blood had drained from the DJ's already pale face. Alarm bells start going off in Chloe's head.
"She's having a panic attack, jackass." Chloe realizes, running to Beca's side and gently pushing her to sit down on the couch. Beca's eyes are wide and unfocused, the storming grey swirling in chaos. Her chest heaves as an unseen weight prevents her lungs from filling. Chloe takes Beca's wrist softly in her hand and checks her pulse.
"Aubrey, can you please go to the kitchen and get me a damp rag?" Aubrey nods and does as she was asked.
"I don't know why you're losing your shit over her, she does this all the time," Anastasia says. The rest of the room stares at her. Chloe takes the cool rag from Aubrey and delicately wipes Beca's forehead and neck. She shakes under the gentle touch.
"Do you know if she has any medication she needs?" Stacie asks, calmly placing a hand on Chloe's shoulder as a sign of help.
"Jesus, she's fine. She'll just pop a Xanax later and sleep it off."
"Okay, I know I just met Beca tonight, but who even are you?" Aubrey says, disbelief and disgust washing over her defined features. The apathy rolling off the other blonde was sickening to experience. Anastasia rolls her eyes.
Beca is still shaking, but her eyes lost the wild and frantic glaze. Stacie enters the kitchen to grab a glass of water, the clinking of each glass filling the tense and quiet air. Chloe rubs small circles on Beca's back, whispering how she's okay, that she's safe. Minutes pass and finally the panic passes. Slow blinking eyes come into focus and one long, shaky breath slips past chapped lips. Chloe smiles in encouragement, continuing her steady rubbing. Stacie returns with the glass of water and hands it to the brunette. She takes it, her hands unsteadily grasping the cold glass to slowly bring it to her lips. The water, clean and crisp, is grounding for Beca. She sips it, eyes never leaving the floor. She can feel each of their stares burning holes into her chest.
"Thank you all for coming. I think it's best if you all left. I'm sorry," she rasps, placing the glass on the wood floor and meeting their eyes, some concerned, one particular pair of blues swimming with worry.
"I don't know about you acabitches, but there is too much estrogen in this pussy pool. I'm off to find some T for some D," Fat Amy said, ignoring the multiple cringing faces to make her disastrous exit. One by one, the girls took their leave. The last ones in the apartment were Stacie, Aubrey, Chloe, Beca, and Ana. The air held the tension like a sponge takes to water; it was leaking into Beca and filling her with apprehension. Her anxiety was beginning to build yet again.
"Breathe," Chloe whispers softly. Her gentle touch continued the dutiful comfort. Breathe. "Is there anything I can get you?" Beca shakes her head. She remains quiet; gathering her thoughts was proving to be much harder than before. The scrambled, frantic, racing of her mind was destroying whatever was left of her high. She couldn't tell if she was swimming in anxiety or swimming in booze. Either way, any form of clarity seemed too far to reach.
"Maybe you should head to bed, Bec," Stacie suggested. A polite nod was all she received.
"Just leave her be, she'll be alright. I've got it covered," Chloe softly said, her eyes finding Aubrey's with a light smile. Stacie and Aubrey looked hesitant, but trusted her judgement.
"What do you mean 'have it covered'? You're all leaving," Anastasia spoke, setting her phone down and once again fixing a stoney gaze at the intruders. Beca gave a shaky laugh and stood up, wavering for the shortest of seconds before steadying. Chloe attempted to place sure, unshaking hands on Beca's shoulders but was brushed from any contact.
"I don't give a shit who stays or who leaves. I'm going to bed." Her eyes were tired but firm in her decision. Stacie, Aubrey, and Chloe internally sighed, knowing she needed to rest. Anastasia, however, was beginning to glow red in her cheeks.
"Rebecca, you cannot be serious."
Beca's exhaustion won over any frustration boiling inside her chest. "Honestly, Anastasia, I don't give a single, flying fuck what you think. Either stay and shut up or get out. End of discussion. Goodnight." Each step she took up the stairs echoed in the silent and charged air. Anastasia huffed, grabbed her bag and stormed out. A burning stare was all that remained after the door slammed shut. Chloe breathed her first relief since the night took such a drastic turn. Aubrey and Stacie gave her a quiet goodbye before showing themselves out. With everyone gone, Chloe quietly stood by the stairs. She debated leaving, she truly did, but she couldn't leave the rude DJ. Not when she could overdose. So she went up the stairs.
The hallway was dark and plain, hardwood floors and plain grey walls. There were multiple doors, all but one was closed. Chloe took this as a sign the only remaining occupant was inside. Her hand touched the wall, her fingers running across the slightly textured surface. It was cold and solid, one tangible reminder that these aren't the only walls she will face tonight. She was shocked at the emptiness surrounding her. Surely someone with a wallet as large as hers would have more possessions? A shallow mindset, yet still puzzling. Her mind wandered with her stride; the door was ajar, golden light bleeding into the quiet, dark hall. Soft shuffling and quiet curses came from inside the room. With a gentle push, Chloe entered the room.
A bed, unmade with black sheets that glistened in the light, was placed in the center of the adjacent wall that was painted navy blue. Beca stood to her left in the bathroom. It was modern, using white and steel accents; a large, glass shower towered over her. Chloe appeared in the mirror behind her. She looked to be fiddling with a pill bottle, but her hands were too shaky to open it easily. Chloe quietly approached her and gently took the bottle from Beca's cold and weak hands. She opened the bottle and took out a thin, white bar. Placing it on the counter, she poured her a glass of water.
"What are you still doing here?" Beca asked tiredly. She ran a pale hand through her messy hair and ignored the water, dry swallowing the pill.
"You shouldn't be drinking or smoking on this," Chloe comments. She didn't speak with the intention of judgment, only quiet worry.
"What are you, my doctor?" Her words lack the previous bite. Her anxiety spell bled her dry.
"No, but I am a nurse. How often do you take Xanax with alcohol?" Beca remains silent. "I know it's prescribed for a reason. How long have you been on it?"
"2016."
Chloe nods her head and stops her line of questioning.
"You still haven't answered my question. Why are you still here?" Beca's eyes finally meet Chloe's. Lifeless is all Chloe could describe them as.
"I'm here to make sure you don't accidentally kill yourself."
At least she's honest.
"Why does it matter to you? I was a dick."
"You may be a dick, but that doesn't mean I want you dead, Beca." Beca stared at her. Chloe's bright blue eyes drowning with concern and honesty which caught her off guard.
"You don't have to help me," the brunette says. She is firm and resolute but she lacks any real conviction in her tired, rough voice.
"Who else is going to help you, Beca? Anastasia?" Beca remains silent, again. She was too tired to fight. She was too tired for much of anything. "Let me help you. If only for the night. You can kick me out tomorrow. But let me be here for you tonight."
She could easily call security and have the pushy, obnoxious redhead escorted out. But what would that do? Truly? She was the only one who stayed. In a night full of bad decisions, Beca felt obligated to make a good choice, the right choice. She squared her shoulders, feeling how her feet were pulled to the floor. She drew whatever strength she could from her heels to pump through her body. Her mind began to quiet and she blinked once, twice, three times before nodding her head.
"Okay. You can stay."