Chapter 3
'Absolutely Impossible'
"Silent tears wept behind beautiful smiles are the worst,"
Evenings are best spent in bed, wearing your comfiest pajamas and tucked under warm covers while reading a good book and drinking wine. Add in the soft 80's music playing in the background and it's perfect.
Beca loves the evenings for all the peace and quiet it brings. A time to herself is the most important time. Being alone just means less problems. Less problem means less stress. Less stress means having a healthy heart.
Beca likes having a healthy heart.
Her cat Bella is lazily lounging at the sofa inside her room and is not in the mood for cuddles, much to Beca's dismay. Kitty cuddles are a nice and warm with their little cat paws around your face. And if only her cat isn't being a moody little bitch that she sometimes is, she'd be happier.
Beca secretly likes kitty cuddles.
She turns another page, too wrapped up in the story she is reading that when she glances at the clock she's surprised to find that it's already past ten. Which isn't really a bad thing if you're not like Beca who takes importance in getting her eight hours of sleep. Less than that and her day is ruined. More than eight hours of sleep on the other hand, is absolutely bliss. Sometimes, often in the winter season, she just wishes to stay in bed all day. Probably hibernate for half a year. Aubrey tells her that more than eight hours is unhealthy and a waste. But how else would she spend time? If she's not working, she's sleeping. With the exception of the last Fridays' of the month where she is sneaking out of someone's bed past midnight, that's how her life rolls and it's going to keep rolling that way.
Closing her book and finishing her wine, she pads outside her room and towards the kitchen, rinsing her glass before getting ready to sleep.
Her nightly routine is simple. Arriving home, she changes her clothes, eats take-out dinner, if she's not taking a shower she's washing her face, applying facial toner, a little bit of night cream then it's crawling in the bed with a good book and some wine or snacks. When that's done, she cleans up, brushes her teeth, kisses her cat goodnight before sliding under the covers to curl up in between her dozen of fluffy pillows, putting on an eye mask and shutting off the lights.
It usually takes a couple of minutes before her breathing evens out and she more than welcomes a peaceful dreamless slee—
There's banging. Loud irritating banging and it's coming from the outside.
Beca literally jerks awake.
Her cat, Bella, jumps up on her bed, looking at the door of her room, while she fumbles groggily around. The lights open and she rips off her eye mask, squinting at her surroundings and for a second she doesn't hear anything. She almost thinks that it's all a dream when it happens again.
Loud incessant banging and this time she's sure it's coming from the hallway of her condo unit. More specifically, her door.
It's about past eleven in the evening and not even Stacie would be causing this much ruckus on a Wednesday night, of all nights. But if it's Amy though, Beca wouldn't even be surprised. However, Amy would be most likely to crash Jesse's place though since she's allergic to cats—well she says that she is but everyone thinks that it's just because she has a traumatic experience of being scratched by a cat when she was child. CR says it's her serial killer trait.
With light footsteps she cautiously walks out of her room, her chest jumping as the banging continues after a momentary pause.
She's read this in crime novels.
Her mind is filled with all the possible gruesome scenarios with how this would end. None of them good. This could be a burglar, a killer or a rapist who has unfortunately chosen her as a target.
But then, criminals don't knock—psychopaths do though.
Finding a bit of courage, Beca crosses over towards the door, aiming to check on the monitor that would show the live video footage of the hallway. She had those installed when there were reports about cat burglars and cat-napping.
Bella's safety is top priority.
She takes one look at the monitor and frowns.
There's person out there all right but they seem to be leaning their head flat on the door and all she could see is auburn hair.
It's impossible though.
It can't be.
The moment she opens it, a body clumsily stumbles forward. She is quick to step back to avoid collision and reach out to catch the person's arm in time. She smells vodka and flowers instantly before dazzling blue eyes look up at her.
Chloe Beale?
"H-How did you—"
But she doesn't get to complete her sentence because the newbie is pointing at her with a scary tone.
"You!"
She gulps nervously as she starts backing away. She didn't even have any idea how this crazy employee of hers knew about her address—it's most definitely on the employee directory though.
Also, she's clearly drunk and the last time the newbie got drunk she had physically harassed her until Beca was running out of the club like her life depended on it. She shudders at the memory.
It was a very dark and embarrassing memory.
"This is all your fault!" the newbie yells, stepping forward and Beca knows she is doomed because trying to escape your own home just sounds absurd—her condo is on the twelfth floor and she does not want to die in the fire escape stairs, neck broken, like the victims of those crime shows.
"You, Beca fuckin' Mitchell!"
Shit's about to get real from this point onwards, Beca is sure of it and now she's on extreme panic mode—which doesn't happen… at all.
What has she ever done to deserve this?
Is this god's will, punishing her for being gay?
Maybe she's not praying to Hayley Kiyoko enough.
"Don't you come near me or I-I'm going to call security!" she tries to say that threateningly and it comes out weak—like those victims on crime shows.
Her hands instinctively grab around for anything to defend herself and she hates herself for not taking CR's suggestions about buying pepper spray for self-defense.
Her weapon of choice instead?
A fuckin' remote control!
She's doomed and her poor Bella is going to be an orphan soon. She should've taken Aubrey's advice about writing her will and securing the future.
"I came here to LA so I can be with him… because I love him. We had our future planned out and now you… you come along and decide that I take everything for granted. You gave me an unreasonable deadline because you think your employees don't have a life just like you!" the newbie starts to rant and that last one really hits home.
The nerve of this woman to forcibly enter her home and insult her work ethic! So what if she doesn't have a life? She's successful and can do anything she wants with whoever she wants. And why does she care about some pathetic relationship that she's not even involved in?
Furiously, she throws pillows as she continues stepping backwards from her redheaded psychopath. She almost pumps her fist when she hits Chloe straight on the face but her celebration would have to hold because the girl is relentless—like that blonde evil, but hot, robot chick from Terminator.
Now she's backed up at a corner, against her glass windows, with no escape routes and she's seriously about to scream for help when—
"You… you don't hate me. You hate love. You hate it so much that you… you,"
Her impending scream fizzles into thin air at the words, watching in shock as the newbie's tears fall down delicately and that's when she sees it. The life in those baby blues starts to dim, the sorrow in them evident and unmistakable.
She's seen it before.
In the mirror.
"He's gone,"
The sadness in those words presses down on her chest because she herself cried them out before and it's suddenly like déjà vu. The memories of the hurt and the anger pouring from every corner of her body. The nights spent wasting away on clubs because she doesn't know how to cope, doesn't know how to claw her heart out so she could stop… feeling.
"And it hurts…"
She looks down on the ground where the newbie kneels pathetically, sobbing painfully on the floor as she grips on to the fabric of her pajama pants, a silent cry for help.
Just like she did.
The problem was this sort of cry for help usually remains unheard buried under assurances that 'it's all going to be alright' or 'don't worry you'll find somebody else' when it's not what you need at the moment. It's all true but it does nothing to alleviate the pain.
"It hurts so much and I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in two days and my head hurts. Now it hurts everywhere and it's all my fault…"
Her fingers suddenly tremble, itching to reach out but there are rules she needs to follow. Rules she's made to protect herself. Because once you let your walls down, you become vulnerable and that's when people take advantage of you.
They stab at you repeatedly, leaving you bleeding down the ground crying and begging.
She doesn't want to be that girl anymore but…
"I should've been there on time. I should've apologized some more. I should've…"
She reminds herself of the rules again.
Rule 1: Recognizing a threat as soon as you see it and proceed to expel said threat.
This is clearly a threat. Blatantly attacking her and entering her home. She should do something about it.
Rule 2: The only way to distance self from threats is to be cold. Be very cold.
She needs to yell at her, tell her to go away and call security if she doesn't. The newbie's problems aren't hers to carry. She shouldn't care about any of this nonsense.
Rule 3: Stay in the safe zone at all times.
She should back away, far, far away. Lines have been crossed and now she needs to draw new ones.
Rule 4: Avoid unnecessary physical contact.
Leave her, it's what her mind screams. Pull away from that grip she's got on the fabric of her clothing. She has no right to touch her. This girl is just some employee who got hired because Beca had the last one quitting and running away in tears—and tons of curses aimed at her.
They're all weak.
And this one, she's just like—the old Beca?
"It's not your fault,"
The words tumble out of her lips before she could bite her tongue. Her whole body is shaking. Struggling to fight against the urge to run away. The urge to move and touch another soul. Afraid to reach out and connect because there's only one ending to that scenario. It's definitely not a happy one.
She's almost forgotten how the whole thing works.
It's been awhile since she… tapped into feelings.
But yet here she was pulling this newbie back to her feet. Maybe it's the odd similarity. Maybe it's those blue eyes. Or the way she tries to hold desperately on to her. She doesn't know. For whatever it is, she doesn't want to dive in deeper.
"He left. You love him and yet he still left you like this. That makes him garbage. He's worthless and he doesn't deserve your love."
Even her breath is shaky as she says those words. Not only because she's aware of how deep her involvement in this situation was becoming but because she's never talked about anything related to this sort of matters for a long time with anyone before.
But there's just something about this scenario she can't place and it has her feeling uneasy. For some reason there's that need to protect this soul, she feels it even though she couldn't understand why.
Why she picks the newbie off the floor, or why she holds her with care, worried that she'd hurt herself. Why she just stands there as arms encircle her and cling to her like she was the last source of hope from someone who is drowning, she has no idea.
She doesn't know where to place her hands. Thinking twice before finally giving the redhead a small awkward pat on the back.
This hug is taking too long though and naturally she's starting to get antsy.
"Uhm… you done?" she slowly asks before faltering because for a second the embrace tightens.
So she's back to awkwardly patting the newbie's back.
"I-Is there someone I can call? Because I'll…" her frown deepens.
Not only because she feels uncomfortable being all disgustingly nice and helpful but also because, she might be imagining it but, it seems like the newbie is getting heavy. And now she almost loses her footing and both of them would've fallen down hard on the floor if it weren't for her fast reflexes.
"Beale, you cannot be sleeping!" she says through gritted teeth, moving her shoulders in a poor attempt to wake the redhead up whose head is lightly bouncing near her neck.
There's audible mumbling but it's basically gibberish and Beca groans at how her perfect night is turning out—very horribly.
It only took one drunk psychotic redhead to flip her peace into chaos. It hasn't even been five minutes and she's been insulted, threatened, chased and groped—yes groped as of the moment because there's certainly a hand squeezing on her breast right this second and it has her flustered.
"Beale! Wake up, you drunk idiot!" she cries out as the redhead literally rests all her weight against her and now they are both sinking down the floor.
Less than a minute later, they do end up on the floor with Chloe all over her, trapping her in a corner, head resting on Beca's chest while she, on the other hand, tries to escape—or push naughty hands away from groping around private places where groping is not allowed.
"Not this again!" she moans miserably.
It takes about five minutes of her struggling, squirming, pushing and grunting before she crawls out successfully to freedom. Now both of them are lying down the floor next to each other, Chloe passed out cold on her side while Beca is tiredly sprawled on the carpet, hair messy, clothes wrinkled and breathing heavily like she run a marathon—a sex marathon but without the pleasure.
Bella meows at her, curiously staring at them but makes no move from her position on the couch with her tail slowly swinging around.
On to the next step then.
Heaving and gritting her teeth, she pulls then carries—drags—the newbie—sack of rice—off the floor and finally lays—throws—her on to the bed before resting—collapsing—on the sofa seat of her room.
Her cat follows her and hops on to the bed which immediately catches her attention.
"Bella, stay away from that psycho. She looks harmless now but she'll make your life hell," she mutters, rather seriously, to her cat.
But her words fall into deaf cat ears as her fur child curls up next to Chloe's cheek and starts sleeping—adorably.
Traitor!
That cat always had a thing for pretty ladies. Lounging contentedly on Stacie's lap, rubbing herself against Aubrey, sweet only when around the cute girls and following the pretty neighbor down the tenth floor for kitty rubs. And now she's getting cozy with the redhead.
Useless lesbian cat!
She's about to stand up and pull her stubborn cat away from the dead to the universe newbie when she hears a knock on the door. This time it's a polite knock and Beca sighs heavily because this better not be another drunk redhead, a polite drunk redhead.
However, when she finds that it's the building's security, she immediately opens the door.
Turns out, security had been looking for a drunk crying redhead who entered the premise a couple of minutes ago with the excuse to use the restroom because she badly needed to pee. With one of the female staff busy attending a complaint from one of the residents, the male security had to stand a couple of feet outside the female restroom only to find out that Beca's sneaky employee managed to slip away from him.
Fortunately, Chloe had given her name earlier before entering the restroom and that's why they came up to check on her.
"She's with me," Beca assures them, massaging her temples as she explains some lie about how girlfriends fight from time to time and that results to… irrational behavior.
Basically, it was an awkward conversation and she pretty much slammed the door shut afterwards.
An alibi is essential. Her building's security is strict, given that it's rather on the high end scale of residential buildings. They've always been proud of the safety of their building and that is one of the main reasons why Beca had bought a unit. Lying was the only way so that she wouldn't be the subject of nasty rumors about having her work mate act like a criminal by stalking her address and breaking in her home. Neither does she want the police getting involved. At least, if it's something personal related, like relationship problems, it's more understandable.
"You better be on your knees begging for forgiveness tomorrow," she grumbles as she drapes her blanket over the sleeping redhead.
Her cat is still, unfortunately, sleeping next to Chloe and is now settled at the crook of her neck, paws around her cheek, obviously already claiming Chloe as one of her humans—this slutty little feline.
Beca stares at them for a moment.
It's weird, how comfortable they look on her bed.
She's never brought women in her home. Her friends were the only other people who had stepped into her condo.
Having someone in her bed now, sleeping soundly next to her cat. It looks so…
She shakes her head, frowning at how absurd her thoughts are getting and grabbing two of her very many pillows before walking out towards the sofa where she is, apparently, going to spend her night.
Closing her eyes, she tries to sleep for a minute only to groan and get up again. With much difficulty she walks towards the kitchen with heavy steps, opening her fridge to take out a bottle of coconut water before heading to the bathroom to unlock the medicine cabinet and grab an Advil assuming that there will be a headache for the redhead psycho tomorrow. She places all of that on the small cabinet next to the bed for Chloe.
Dimming the lights, she finally trudges back to the sofa.
It's already past midnight and it's not even the weekend. Her sleep schedule had been ruined, she's spending a night in the sofa and having somebody else in her house is making it hard for her to sleep. She twists and turns, sighing every once in a while.
It's past two in the morning when she loses consciousness, last thoughts drifting to annoying redheads and shitty love problems.
It's broken, all the rules.
For the first time in a year, she's broken all of it and she doesn't even know why she did so.
She hates herself for that.
Rule 5: Run away from drunk straight girls named Chloe.
Beca stretches and twists before hugging the pillow so tightly, eyes still closed as she buries her face in the soft fluffy pillow. It's morning, she can tell from the brightness and the lively noise going around her. It's too bright though for six in the morning and something smells really delicious which then makes her stomach groan.
It's something… that doesn't usually happen.
Which is why her eyes pop open in panic and the moment it does she can tell, something is definitely different.
Wrong, is actually the right word.
She jolts upright and squints at the sunshine spilling from the clear glass windows to the living room. There's soft clatter coming from the kitchen and that instantly makes her heart jump.
The sun is too high up.
There's someone in her kitchen.
The clock reads 10:20 am.
"Fuck!" she hisses, looking around in distress as she stands up to walk to the kitchen.
The color red catches her eyes immediately and she freezes.
Chloe Beale. In her kitchen, holding a spatula and hovering near a pan.
Right exactly at that moment, the newbie turns, holding a plate on the other hand before her baby blue eyes connect with hers.
"Good… morning?"
Like a ticking bomb, the silence counts down to one until she erupts.
"What the fuck is good about the morning when you barged in my home last night, drunk, yelling insults and harassing—?!" she almost growls and the newbie flinches, suddenly looking small in her kitchen.
Beca wants to say more but she stops herself at the sudden rush of blood to her head. Her face is probably turning red right now and she's not surprised. Actually, she has all the right to be infuriated in her own home.
She rubs the back of her neck in order to calm down, closing her eyes as she breathes in and out.
Losing her cool is… not cool.
Bella passes by, stopping for a second—probably to check if she's alright—before proceeding over to Chloe and rubbing herself on the redhead's leg as a sweet morning greeting.
"I was trying to wake you up—"
"And why didn't you?" she cuts her off, her tone jumping through the roof before reminding herself that she needs to calm down, counting down from a hundred to maintain any semblance of sanity she has left.
Everything's messed up.
She's never messed up like this.
"I-I did! And you were mumbling in your sleep—which was cute—but you wouldn't wake up!" Chloe explains, hands flailing around before adding, "Besides it was nine in the morning. You'd still be… late,"
Her voice drops into a small tone, fingers fidgeting as she gnaws on her lower lip.
"I made you breakfast," she starts but stutters when Beca opens her eyes and sharply returns her attention back at her.
At least, it satisfies her when the newbie squirms under her glare.
"A-As an apology? And a thank you… for letting me stay last night," Chloe squeaks, carefully pushing a plate of food towards her as if she was some angry dragon that needed to be appeased.
She prolongs the glare for a couple of moments because the newbie deserved it before glancing down at the plate. A thought suddenly occurs to her and she doesn't waste time contemplating about it.
"Where'd you get that?" she asks, knowing that with all the empty cabinets, there's no way that dish would exist.
It's also the first time the kitchen would be thoroughly used. She never cooks. The microwave and the coffeemaker are the only appliances that she's tampered with. Beyond that, all the kitchen stuff remains sparkly and brand new. Stacie had once pointed out that it's a shame to have such a well-equipped kitchen when nobody even cooks.
Beca likes the aesthetic of it, so what?
She only has snacks, beverages and take-out leftovers. So, it's a surprise to find a plate complete of what one would call a breakfast.
"I had groceries delivered… online," Chloe answers, bright blue eyes flitting over to Beca's laptop and then she bursts out a sorrowful, "I'm sorry. Thinking about it now, I shouldn't have touched your laptop! But it was tiring to go down, I don't have the card key. I think your high-tech door also requires fingerprints or number codes and my hangover isn't helping—don't worry I paid for it!"
Beca's probably popped a nerve at this point. This girl is just something else. She has singlehandedly managed to destroy her everyday routine due to the embarrassing ruckus she made last night, made her sleep in her own sofa, stole her cat's affections, left her hand—paw—prints all over her stuff and now is the sole reason why she's going to be absent—for the very first time in about five years. All of which happened in no less than 24 hours.
She's probably just going to call in sick today. She doubts that she'd function well in this state. The itch to disinfect every single corner of her home won't let her work properly.
Besides, her stomach is grumbling. Loudly.
Another round of awkward silence passes before Beca slowly pulls a chair and sits down, eyes on the plate. She studies it skeptically, doubtful if it was something edible because it looks like something a six year old mashed together for her project. A mug of black coffee also gets slowly and carefully pushed her way, hands pausing as she sharply eyes the cup.
"I… didn't add sugar in that," Chloe explains softly, only being able to breathe properly when she nods.
She takes the fork without a word and starts poking on the scrambled eggs, swallowing because it does smell delicious and she's hungry. But before she takes a bite, she pauses, thinks for a second and then looks up at the newbie nervously standing in front of her.
Her eyes must look threatening because it promptly gets the newbie to blurt nonsense out of sheer panic like, "I washed my hands before I cook… I swear," and "I don't plan on poisoning you. I-I'd never!"
Sighing, she finally breaks the babbling before it gets any worse, "I don't like being watched while eating," and when it doesn't seem to be sinking in she adds, "Please just grab a plate and eat,"
Also, if her stomach goes bad then she's not going to suffer alone.
"Oh… oh!" Chloe mumbles before turning around to do just that.
In seconds, the redhead cautiously sits across her with her own plate and a cup of coffee. They sit in silence and Beca tries not to think much about what's happening because it'll just cause more anxiety in her part.
It's been a while since she had… something like this.
There's movement and instinctively her eyes flit across the redhead as she adds spoonful's of creamer and sugar in to her coffee cup. She frowns repulsively at the light brown liquid in comparison to her dark one.
She likes her coffee black with just a bit of sugar because that's how one should drink real coffee. It's much healthier without the sugar but Beca prefers to add a bit to hers.
Exhaling, she glances away because one's coffee preferences aren't her business and takes a bite of her food.
Which is surprisingly, very delicious. If the saying, 'Do not judge a book by its cover' needed an example this would be it.
"Uhm," Chloe says before clearing her throat to interrupt the silence.
Beca pauses again, hoping to answer immediately and get back to the quiet. She's not really big on small talk.
"Your… bedroom alarm actually went off at six in the morning and well, I… sort of tried to turn it off but I… ended up swiping it off the stand and breaking… it?" the redhead admits, hands flailing around as she tries to explain.
Beca's eyes slowly look up as she tries to push down her temper and painfully extend her patience.
"I… I'm sorry—I'll pay for it!"
All this misfortune, why does it have to be her of all people?
Why?
By the time breakfast ended, Beca has given up in trying to understand how Chloe Beale's mind works.
She's too tired to analyze this psycho.
Chloe puts too much cream and sugar on her coffee. She smiles through a hangover—how she even smiles after a breakup is beyond her. She's manipulated Bella who keeps following her around like she has her favorite treats. She works messily in the kitchen—which looks as unorganized as her office table—although she did promise to clean it all up. The food she prepared looks really sloppy but tastes delicious. And she sings Lavender's Blue Dilly Dilly while she cleans up the dishes like some Disney princess—she's surprised she hasn't sung Part of Your World yet. Beca is almost certain that if she had windows that open, birds will come flying in and dance around her.
But what takes the cake is how the newbie is begging, yes, begging her to let her stay despite their rocky work relationship, with her being her boss and everything else that has happened.
Now, Beca's sitting on the sofa, massaging her temples as the redhead drops on her knees and pleads.
"Please, just one more night. I can't… go back, at least, not now. Please?" Chloe continues to beg and Beca avoids looking into those big bright blue eyes lest she wants to give in.
"Don't you have friends?" she finally asks and the redhead sighs, looking down.
"I know I've been in LA for two years now but I've been so busy doing part-time jobs to even make close friends. I do have someone I could go to but she has a lot of roommates and it's quite far from the office. Your condo is like fifteen minutes away! Please, Beca? I'll forever be indebted to you!" she pleads some more, shifting near her which makes Beca move to the far end of the sofa.
The safe side.
"Are you not even worried about your cat? Think about Mallows!" she tries because as much as she kinda' pities her, having her stay here, even for just another night, is about to give her a stroke.
"He's with a neighbor right now,"
"Then why don't you live there for the meantime?"
"She has a husband, three children and her brother is crashing in right now. Besides, staying there is useless. She's literally my next door neighbor so I…"
"You can't avoid him that way," Beca completes for her with a heavy sigh, a palm on her forehead as she closes her eyes.
When she opens them again, she almost has a heart attack with how close the redhead suddenly is, kneeling right in front of her.
"I'll sleep in the couch—actually I'll sleep wherever you tell me to! I'll cook and clean for you! And you don't even need to pay me! I'll even take care of Bella like my own!" she says and Beca mistakenly forgets about not looking into those really blue eyes.
Now she's fallen into the trap.
Swiftly looking elsewhere, her eyes fall over to her cat who is sitting just behind Chloe and gazing up at her… pleadingly.
"Seriously?" she mutters in disbelief towards her fur child who meows back at her. "You're even taking her side now?"
"This is so cute. I talk to my cat too," Chloe comments in a whisper, looking at the both of them in awe.
"Shut up," Beca immediately retorts, holding a finger towards her as she glares at her cat.
She leans back after a moment, letting out a puff of air and it's just what this day is all about, sighing and exhaling heavily. She's never been so stressed with non-work things.
However, she almost jerks away when she feels Chloe touch her knee. She's sure her soul jumped to the penthouse suite at the top floor of the building.
"Sorry," comes the meek apology.
"Just… stop touching me," she warns and Chloe nods, holding her hands up.
"Right, sorry again. So…" the redhead begins as Beca turns to look at her still kneeling down in front of her.
Say no. Make her leave and tell her not to bother you.
"Fine—"
There's an excited squeal and a cheer but before open arms lunge towards her, she holds a hand up along with a very firm, "BUT! There's a 'but' here,"
The happy seal noises die down and she sharply eyes the newbie who is swaying like a toddler as she tries to bottle up her excitement, a genuine smile on her lips and eyes dancing with life.
"You are going to cook and clean. Also, stop getting attached to my cat," she points over to her naughty feline who is currently ignoring her as she rolls away—more like strut in her cat like away.
"But I like her," the newbie tries to protest but is drowned out when Beca continues.
"I hate unnecessary noise. I don't do small talk and you're going to stay in your own corner… which is any part of the house away from me," there's a pout at that.
"Can I at least sit here?" she asks, motioning towards the opposite end of the sofa.
"…Yes," she answers after some thought before proceeding to lay out her millions of stipulations while Chloe perches over at the other end, facing her as she hugs her knees to her chest.
"Singing is fine as long as you don't do it on the top of your lungs. You're not to touch any of my things without my permission. I can lend you some clothes. And you are not to drink or even take a small sip of alcohol while you stay here. Got it?" she says before looking back at the redhead who is now currently cradling Bella.
Great, not even a minute later and her words are flushed down some public toilet. Guess it's no helping Bella getting attached to Chloe.
One look at the newbie and she knows there's a question bubbling and hanging at the tip of her tongue.
"What?"
"Can I call you Becs outside work? We're about the same age anyway—"
"No,"
"But why—"
"NO,"
"May I go to the bathroom?"
Scratching the side of her face, Beca reminds herself not to stress too much as she reviews her work papers, "Yes and you don't have to ask permission for that all the time," she breathes out before writing something down on her notepad.
It's been almost two hours since their strange agreement. She has busied herself with work at the kitchen table and Chloe has been busy either playing with Bella or browsing through magazines. She's also tried to pass by her several times, taking a curious peek earlier at her work before Beca gave her another cold glare. She's also showered and changed in one of Beca's hoodies and cotton shorts—which was a mistake because now looking down flawless legs is certainly not an option now.
There's a woman wearing her clothes, smelling like Beca's own shampoo while walking around inside her home and Beca still has eyes. Eyes which have always preferred and had been attracted to women since birth, as CR says. No matter who it was, having gorgeous legs exposed like that in front of her still catches her attention. It's just natural admiration to beauty though. She's not some hormonal teenaged boy or old perverted fart who thinks of doing dirty things to every female specie who shows skin. She's a gentlewoman. So she admires for a second, looks away and buries herself in paperwork instead.
Chloe disappears to the bathroom and Beca finally lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Having someone else around makes her feel conscious of her actions, especially when she could feel eyes looking her way.
She feels it strongly again though and she rubs her neck before jumping at the sudden small poke on her shoulder.
"Fuckin—!" she blurts out in surprise before she finds the redhead hovering behind her.
How long she had been standing behind her, she doesn't know. She hadn't even heard her come out and walk near her.
"Sorry," the redhead apologizes and it's like what, the tenth time she's said that word?
"I'm not here to make small talk or disturb you—I mean this is obviously disturbance but it's work related!" she quickly explains before placing a USB next to her laptop—a red ladybug shaped USB.
"See?" she follows, pointing at it and when Beca looks at her in confusion she continues.
"It was in my pocket and well, today's my deadline for the proposal you wanted," she says and Beca eyes the object.
She doesn't know but there's guilt gnawing inside her reminding her why Chloe had drunkenly landed on her doorstep. The words she threw at her last night.
This report was the reason why the newbie lacked sleep and ultimately got into a fight with her boyfriend.
But just as she thought of it, she almost scoffs at herself for suddenly caring.
It's work related and she has every right to be demanding. This festival's success relies on her ability to lead. She has deadlines too and tons of other projects lined up this month.
"You gave me an unreasonable deadline because you think your employees don't have a life just like you!"
She takes the USB, plugging it in her laptop wordlessly as she avoids looking up at Chloe.
She doesn't like the thoughts pushing in her head are at all and Beca may have shut out the softer part of her for so long but she still knows what pain is. Knows when she's inflicted it on someone so carelessly and discarded their own feelings.
She knows.
She lets Chloe open the Powerpoint presentation and this time she feels the newbie's nerves, eyes hoping to get her approval.
Beca could see it, there's potential, not only on the proposal but at the passionate redhead in front of her. She could see it, the similarity they both have despite the obvious differences.
"Congratulations, you've been promoted," she remembers hearing it.
She remembers having her head held up, looking proud and letting out a smile despite how badly her heart was breaking. She remembers shaking her boss' hand and promising to do her best even though all she wanted to do was break down and cry. She wanted to run but she stood her ground as she signed contracts. She wanted to shut out the world but she entered meeting rooms and entertained clients with a visualization of the drafts for their proposal. She ignored her friends' worried looks and told them that she's over it.
That she deserves better.
That she's not angry anymore.
That she's moved on now.
That she wishes her luck with her life.
That she's alright.
Even though she cries to sleep every night. Even though she hastily bought an expensive condo unit because living in their shared apartment only hurts so much she can't breathe. Even though she's drunk every last Friday of the month because the alcohol makes her vision blurry and the face of whoever she's sleeping with turns into her. Even though she's clearly broken.
The presentation goes on, slides flashing every couple of minutes and cute little animations popping up here and there while she remains silent.
"What do you think?" Chloe finally asks as Beca's eyes stare at the screen, unreadable and serious.
"Who do you think should headline the event?" she finally asks after a couple of minutes and Chloe goes on to press a button, apparently ready for the question.
"Her," Chloe points out to one of the most popular singers at the moment. A vision of red hair, green eyes and a seductive smile greet Beca.
"Paris Blake. She's about to release an album and I've heard that they are still deciding where she's going to perform it first.
Beca inhales sharply and shakes her head a bit. "She's not going to take it. It's going to be a challenge getting her for our festival,"
"But with the right proposal she will," Chloe presses on. "We need to get the press to talk about our event. Celebrities like to participate on those kinds of things that will end up on the front page. We get her on board and the rest follows,"
"Yes but we don't have the budget for her because we also have to woo the other top tier artists to perform for us. We bring in the fresh faces, new bands which is easy to get. They'll do anything for the exposure but we also have the bigger artists which will be the main reason for people to watch. Having her in with the rate she has now is going to be a burden for our pockets,"
"But what if we make her perform for less?" Chloe suddenly says, unwilling to let it go. Eyes determinedly looking at her for a moment before she finally drops it on her.
"What if I get her to come on board? Would you finally like me and be my friend?" she directly proposes, challenging her.
It throws her off balance completely because Beca thinks they've mentally agreed that they'd never get along. That they'd mutually hated each other but it seems Chloe is still hoping for otherwise.
This girl doesn't know how to give up.
She never thought behind drunken slurs and forced hugs she really meant it. Being friends, that is.
"Why is winning my friendship so important to you?" she asks, still confused as to why Chloe keeps pushing them to be close.
"Because I want to be your friend?"
"Still, is this… pity? Or do you want a promotion?"
"No! How could you think of me that way?"
"Then what?"
"Because I feel like we'd be really good friends!"
"How exactly did you figure that out?"
"I don't know! I feel it? I just… I just want to be close to you!" Chloe spits out.
Beca's frown deepens as she leans back, tilting her head a bit and crossing her arms defensively across her chest. She doesn't understand this. Can't even wrap her head around the idea.
"But I've been mean to you all this time," she finally admits but Chloe only shrugs. "You're weird," she follows with a comment which the newbie instantly takes offence in.
"Hey, you're the weird one for not wanting to be friends and being mean to me for little petty reasons!" she throws back and Beca balks.
Guess it's finally time to draw out the last card.
"I'm a lesbian,"
"So? I'm straight," the redhead simply says without even blinking.
"And that doesn't make you uncomfortable?"
Because there's always that negative thought that girls like Chloe had of girls like her. She's had people treat her like the plague or avoid her out of discomfort. The world might be changing but some things remain the same. Acceptance isn't always easy for people like her. Every time someone asks it's like having to come out again and again… and again.
It's always a struggle.
"No. Why would it? Except…" she suddenly pulls back a bit. "Are you planning to do something dirty to me?" she squeaks in horror, eyeing her maliciously with her arms coming up to her chest and Beca almost breaks a nerve again.
And there it is.
"What?! No! I'd never!" she immediately gasps.
Ironically, it's her who crashed into her home and groped her! She ought to let her know that it's her who is the potential predator here.
"Exactly," Chloe points out, relaxing back again, even moving her chair closer to her and Beca just stares at her in disbelief.
What planet did this girl come from?
"So what do you say? I get Paris Blake for the music fest and you get to openly welcome me in the group as your friend? Also, I get to call you Becs and stop giving me a hard time at work," she challenges which Beca doesn't plan on backing out from.
"You get her in the music festival and ensure that the event turns out successfully and you get to have my blessing as a member of our group, my most coveted friendship, unlimited cuddles with Bella and my respect as a workmate. Deal?" she lays out confidently.
"Fine. Deal!" Chloe verbalizes out with a smile.
But Beca knows she's already won.
The fighting spirit is cute but it's all in vain. There's no way she can pull it all off.
Absolutely impossible.
Authors Note:
I'm on vacation but I'm still writing. I can't stop.
I love reading all your comments. Keep em coming, darlings.
Beca and Chloe make a bet. First to fall in love... loses? Oh crap- wrong bet.