Pitch Perfect 3: An Unofficial Next Story Chapter 27 - Thoughts & Advice, a pitch perfect fanfic

A/N: Hello Pitch Perfect Fans! Here's is the newest chapter.

Sorry it took me so long to post it. I actually had to break it into two chapters, there was just so much to cover. I hope you like where I chose to end it.

I really appreciate the response to this story. It has made writing it so much better. The reviews from the last chapter were amazing.

I once again want to thank BeChloeIsLegit for all her help. You've been a great writing partner.

Second, this chapter is dedicated to a friend and fellow writer. I know things are not in a good place, and you need to step away for a while. Know that when you need or want a friend, I'm here. Until then you are in my thoughts, and you are a Gem. By the way, I need my TPM and IDLYBAW back. I was reading those.

Thanks to everyone for reading.

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own any rights to Pitch Perfect or any of the characters, but I do love them.

CHAPTER 27

***Thoughts & Good Advice***

"Hello?"

"Sam? It's Beca. Sorry to be calling so late."

"That's okay, Beca. What can I do for you?"

"J Michael was talking about recruiting a talent out of New York who's looking to relocate to LA; right?"

"Yeah, boss."

"Send me her particulars, and contact information. Then book me a flight to New York for tonight. I'm going to close that deal," Beca instructs her assistant. "I'll need everything. Flight, hotel, and a scheduled appointment."

"Okay, you got it, boss."

"And, Sam, I need you to keep this to yourself."

"Boss?"

"I know you and Chloe have grown close…"

"We're cousins…"

"I know, it's further proof the Universe is fucking with me. But I digress. I need some space, and have to take care of something…"

"My lips are sealed, boss."

"Just let her know… I'm okay. And also book me a flight to Portland, Maine. Make it for Wednesday. I should be done with everything in New York by then."

"You got it, boss," says Sam.

"Chloe was right, you're doing an incredible job. I really appreciate it Sam. I couldn't do any of this without you."

"Thanks, boss," replies Sam, a little bit worried.

"Sam," she thinks about saying more, but then says, "text me the particulars when you have the tickets and itinerary."

"Will do, boss. Have a safe flight," Sam says reluctantly.

"Thanks. Hold down the fort for me," Beca responds and hangs up. Beca looks at the Uber driver. "Change of plans. Take me to LAX."

o0o

Beca enters the airport terminal without a destination in mind. She's not looked at her mobile since she ended the call with Sam. It's been buzzing pretty constantly, so she's pretty sure she has a ton of messages from the Bellas.

At some point, she's going to have to check for Sam's message with her travel itinerary. Looking at the departures for New York City, she sees there's a redeye direct flight leaving in just under two hours. Beca hopes Samantha was able to secure a seat on that flight.

Reluctantly, Beca opens her mobile phone and sees she has a number of messages. She's not ready to read them.

She's not sure what she fears most, deep disapproval or deep disappointment. Beca remembers all too vividly the way Chloe's eyes glistened from tears about to be shed as she literally sang her heart out to her.

And Beca knows she broke the redhead's heart by running.

She couldn't help it though. She panicked. A full-on panic attack had gripped her to her core.

Her thumb hovers over the message app. Deep breath, close eyes, as the thumb falls on the message icon. Hesitantly she opens her eyes and begins to read the messages.

They are what she expected.

BlondeTyrant [10:18PM]: WTF HOBBIT!

SaucyAussie: [10:18PM]: Shawshank! Where are you? Just shag the Ginger and get it over with already. Everyone will be happier. Because you know everyone loves a good Bhloe

BlondeTyrant: [10:18PM]: HOBBIT! GET YOUR SKINNY ASS BACK HERE!

BabyBella: [10:19PM]: Beca? R U OK? Please let me know how U R

SexyLegs: [10:20PM]: Beca, Come Back. You have part of your answer

Beca smirks as she reads the texts. She really needs to stop letting Chloe create the usernames in her address book.

Jesse: [10:20PM]: Becaaw, So HAPPY right now. Can't believe she did that. Wait up, we'll head home

Beca rolls her eyes. She can't believe Jesse thought she was choosing him.

BlondeTyrant: [10:21PM]: HOW DARE YOU DO THAT HOBBIT!

BabyBella: [10:22PM]: Beca? Please come back

SexyLegs: [10:22PM]: On second thought Beca, Don't Come Back. Aubrey might murder you. Text back and I will let you know when it's safe

SaucyAussie: [10:23PM]: Shawshank-you're kinda falling down on your Maid of Honor obligations.

LLRose: [10:23PM]: Queen Bee? It's okay-don't go

BlondeTyrant: [10:24PM]: Beca, seriously, Chloe took a leap. You should have caught her.

SexyLegs: [10:25PM]: Seriously Beca, Stay Away. Don't want to have to have to have conjugal visits with Aubrey

BlondeTyrant [10:25PM]: How could you not catch Chloe!?

SaucyAussie: [10:27PM]: Shawshank, where are you? kinda figured you would come back by now

BabyBella: [10:29PM]: Beca? U OK? Please let me know how U R

SweetGinger; [10:30PM]: I'm sorry

Beca can't believe Chloe feels the need to apologize. Then realizes it's exactly what Chloe Beale would do.

Jesse: [10:30PM]: Becaaw, are you headed back to my place?

Beca scoffs. When had Jesse become so clueless?

LLRose: [10:32PM]: Queen Bee?

SexyLegs: [10:35PM] Did you need time to figure things out

BlondeTyrant: [10:37PM]: What the fuck is going on?

BabyBella: [10:38PM]: Beca please

SaucyAussie: [10:40PM]: Hey Shawshank, this seems like unnecessary drama, just come back and make right with Ginger

SweetGinger; [10:45PM]: Make good choices Becs

BabyBella: [10:49PM]: Beca can we talk? Please.

Jesse: [10:50PM]: Becaaw? Are you at home?

BlondeTyrant [10:57PM]: Chloe is hurting. Come back

Jesse: [11:00PM]: Becaaw? Can you text me back?

Lily [11:01PM]: Your ticket is booked on Delta flight 118. Seat 6a. Seats 6b and 6c, next to yours have been saved, so you have the full row.

Beca furrows her brow as she reads the text from Lily. She shivers involuntarily.

Cuz'n: [11:02PM]: Boss - You're booked on Delta flight 118- Direct to LaGuardia, New York City. Seat 6a. Leaving at 12:30AM. Hope you're at the airport. Will setup hotel and meetings next. Good Luck.

Now Beca would be more creeped out, but over the years she's grown used to Lily. She ignores the rest of the messages. She only replies to Chloe's.

TinyDJ: [12:17AM]: I'm the one who's sorry. I have to take care of some things. I will make good choices. Tell the Bellas I'm sorry and not to worry.

It's not enough. She knows it. But it's all she has right now. With a sigh, she heads to the Delta Airlines ticket counter to grab her ticket and check-in.

o0o

Chloe unlocks the door to their apartment and opens it hurriedly, though she knows it's a futile gesture.

She's disappointed, that small part of her that always holds out hope had kept her believing Beca would be there. The lights inside are all off; their darkness extinguishes her hope.

The TV isn't on, nor is music playing in the background. The silence is deafening.

The message is loud and clear. There's nobody home.

She knew this was the likelihood, even as she rushed home. She'd paid no heed to Aubrey's warnings. She had to reach Beca before her friend left, though she was sure it was too late. This thought lingered, and grew and grew with every minute that passed as she headed back to their apartment.

It hadn't really hit her until now, being back at their apartment. Seeing it for herself.

She isn't here.

Only silence.

She. Isn't. Here.

Nothing else matters.

Beca. Isn't. Here.

Chloe knew this would happen. Why had she not trusted her instincts?

Chloe had always dreaded this.

It was something cold, rooted in the deepest parts of her soul. That someday she would cross the line and create a rift in her relationship with Beca.

She had driven Beca away today.

Now there's just this emptiness inside her.

A storm of despair rages inside her mind, but her soul feels hollow.

She can't move for the longest time. When she does it's only to sink to her knees.

And she cries.

Her sobs racked her entire body.

She cries until she feels arms encircling her. Aubrey and Stacie together lift her to her feet and guide Chloe towards Aubrey's apartment. Emily looks at the empty apartment with a deep sense of regret and closes the door.

She can't stay here anymore than Chloe can.

o0o

A little over two hours after getting Sam's message with the flight information, Beca is sitting in her seat, 6a, next to the window. She peers out the small portal window, though it's the middle of the night and the most she can see is the lights of cities and large towns below.

She can't believe Lily was right, she's in 6a and has the entire row to herself. Not for the first time, she chooses to ignore how creepy that is. It's just Lily.

She feels the engines change pitch, and the plane ascend higher, as the pilot looks to avoid some possible turbulence. Beca wishes she could do that in her life.

Her right knee is jiggling nervously, but she's not sure the reason; is it because of fear, nervousness, anticipation, guilt? Beca really can't answer why. Maybe things can be more than one thing at a time?

One thing she knows is she hates flying, thinking it an inconvenient-convenience. Add on top of it that she'd already been in a foul mood and she, of course, grumbled the whole way through the airport security, down the concourse, and into her seat.

Most of the other passengers are asleep, which any sane person would do on a red-eye from Los Angeles to New York City.

She sits within a small pool of light, an island of light in the darkened cabin, sipping at her rum and coke. For the first time ever in her life, Beca had purchased some of those mini-bottles of booze from the stewardess and a can of coke. Now she's sitting there sipping a rum and coke, with her semi-alcohol induced thoughts, which lead her to the one thing that has kept her going all night.

Chloe.

This journey is for Chloe.

Beca has tried so hard for so long to not dwell on what the redhead means to her—like why there are butterflies in her stomach every time Chloe comes around, why she lets the crazy redheaded girl hold her even when it's not necessary, and why she long ago stopped pushing Chloe away.

Now she has answers as to why, for Chloe, Beca is willing to let her guard down. Why she's like spellbound by the redhead, enough to just let Chloe Beale in right past all her defenses meticulously built up over the years.

Beca manages to still her nervous movements for now. She closes her eyes, as she thinks about the reason why Chloe's name has seemed to be at the back of her mind so often; even while she's been with Jesse these last few years.

This makes her consider her entire relationship with Jesse. She tries to make sense at the fact that she's pretty sure she kissed Jesse on the day of the ICCA finals at least partly because she thought it's what she had to do to prove she is straight. She also may have kissed him out of fear of being alone. Part of her had thought Chloe was graduating; thought Chloe was leaving; moving on. The ICCA competition was supposed to be her last chance to be around Chloe. Kissing Jesse might have partly been to fill the potential hole that was about to open in her life.

Had Jesse been her shield that day? Had he unknowingly been helping her not have to question her heterosexuality? Helping her not to have to be alone?

Dark thoughts swirl through her mind as she peers out at the dark clouds the plane is flying through this night.

Ironically, she would learn later, it hadn't been the last chance for her to be with Chloe. The redhead had maneuvered it so she would remain in school at Barden, for three more years. Three more years with the Bellas and three more years with her.

Now, Beca found herself wondering what it meant to her that her time with the redhead hadn't come to an end. If Chloe hadn't remained at Barden, would Beca have stayed with Jesse for the following three years of school? With Chloe's proximity, did Beca subconsciously hold onto her 'straight' lifeline?

Beca has a feeling the answer is yes. This causes her to wince at how much of a bitch she has been. She has used Jesse to fill a space, and help define her to the world.

Beca realizes she's used him to hold Chloe at arm's length.

Beca opens another tiny bottle of rum and mixes it into a cup of coke. She swirls it gently to mix and then takes a sip. Thoughts like these demands alcohol; copious amounts of alcohol.

Memories of her time at Barden floods Beca's mind. She knows Jesse has been a good guy; well he had been before he came out to LA. Before Hollywood started to change him. She thinks she might partly be to blame for his changes. She has a feeling she's the catalyst.

While at Barden he had been the perfect boyfriend for Beca—or for anyone, really. He had been kind, and mostly patient. She should love him, in ways more intimate than she does. She does love Jesse, but it feels more like the love for a brother, or a best friend. Romantic love never truly latched on.

Yet she stayed with him, even as he obviously wanted to take it further. Much further than she ever wanted to go. Jesse's one true weakness was he truly believes in Hollywood endings. Her staying with him had fueled his belief that he had found one.

But he hadn't. She isn't his happy ending. The truth is, even after all this time together, he isn't the one who knows Beca. Knows how Beca wants to be held. Knows how Beca wants her coffee in the morning. Knows how Beca likes to be sung to when she's had a particularly trying day. He isn't the one who knows where Beca disappears to when she's having a crappy day.

All of those things are Chloe.

Why had she used Jesse as a shield against being true to herself?

A part of Beca had always wanted more with Chloe - but those feelings had run headlong into the walls she herself erected to protect her heart. Because she wasn't able to better articulate the why of the situation, she had simply ignored and repressed these feelings. The more these feelings manifested themselves, the more she repressed them. And the truth is she hadn't been brave enough to explore these growing needs.

She takes a sip of her rum and coke, deciding to stop that train of thought before it can go any further tonight. There's just not enough booze for her to consume. And, more importantly, no one she can talk to. For now, she would do what she always does and put this thing away to hopefully deal with later.

Well at least try.

Beca leans the seat back and turns off her light, intent on maybe getting a couple hours' sleep. She lets her head fall back to the neck rest, letting out a sigh of dejected tiredness. When she starts to fall asleep, she dreams of cerulean blue eyes, and fire red curls, and she sleeps with a smile on her lips.

o0o

Chloe enters the teacher's staff room, going straight for the coffee machine. Generally, she would avoid the caffeinated beverage when at the academy, but today she needed something extra to get her through.

Sleep really hasn't been something she's doing anymore. Emily and she have been crashing at Aubrey's apartment.

She also needed some time to be alone with her thoughts. She loves her Bella sisters, especially Bree, Stacie, and Emily, but she really could use less support right now. She's not a fragile piece of crystal that's going to shatter. Yes, it hurt to watch Beca flee, but Chloe had always known that was what would happen.

Chloe had just finished a frustrating fifty minutes trying to get her students to appreciate the music of the Seventies, however, this was not the cause of her tension, no that was her own stupidity.

It had been three days since she stupidly confessed her love to Beca through song. Three days since Beca had run. Three days since Beca effectively disappeared from her life, with just one message that night. Three days walking around their apartment like a zombie.

Chloe massages her temple, hoping for relief.

The coffee is ready, and the redhead absently lifts it to her mouth, only to swear loudly when the hot liquid burns her tongue.

"Astoreen, are ye alright?"

Chloe whips her head around, embarrassment coloring her cheeks pink. She feels like a child being caught red-handed. A little chagrined she answers, "Hey Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, sorry about that."

"I've tol' ya lass, ye c'n call me Kate," scolds the older woman.

Chloe gives her a smirk. "When we're not at school if I'm remembering right."

The older woman gives her a look, then waves it away. "Oh, ye. How c'n I scold ye f'r bein' polite." The old woman's face softens. "Now, Astoreen, are ye alright?"

Chloe smiles at the Irish term of endearment. "Yeah, I'm fine, just not thinking this morning. How are you doing?"

The older woman smiles fondly at the younger woman. "I'm well, me Astoreen. Now, do ye want t' tell me the truth?"

Chloe smiles, but it's easy for the wise Irish woman to see the smile doesn't reach the young redhead's eyes. "I'm fine."

"Ye don't look fine, me Astoreen. In fact, ye seem rather agitated. Anything I can help ye with?"

Chloe shakes her head. "It's not a work matter."

"Ach, like that's ever been a matter. Something troubles ya. Perhaps sharing yer troubles with a friend might help."

Chloe considers the offer, but she doesn't have the time right now. She's supposed to have a one-on-one tutorial in five minutes. She shakes her head. "Maybe another time. I have to get back to the music room, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy." Silence settles between them and she sighs.

The old Irish woman studies her, which makes Chloe smile sheepishly. "Of course, Astoreen, now off with ye. Don't let this cailleach keep ye." To emphasize this the old Irish woman does a little shooing motion with her hands.

Chloe giggles and raises her mug in salute and heads back to the music room. Truth be told she's not really up for a lesson, but she made a commitment.

She walks into the music room and automatically heads to the piano. The room is empty, but that's to be expected. The lesson doesn't start for another four minutes. Chloe opens the cover of the piano, as she sits on the bench, and lets her fingers rest on the keys. As she's waiting though, her fingers get antsy, and soon she's lightly ghosting them across the keys.

Without much thought, she starts playing a tune. She doesn't really care all that much what the tune is. Chloe has always liked the sound of a piano. The sound of a piano has always calmed her down and allowed Chloe to forget about all the problems. What she starts playing matches what she is feeling inside; it's something slow and slightly depressing. It takes a minute for her to realize what she's playing.

When she does, her lips turn up into a sad smile. Guess her subconscious is picking her tunes. Her fingers dance along the keys to the tune of 'Let Her Go'.

She starts singing without much thought, the words just flowing forth.

Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

She lets the melody sink-in allowing her feelings of heartbreak to infuse with the tune.

Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

Chloe plays with delicate, agile movements, made perfect by her long fingers. She hits each note in a way that makes the piano ring softly.

Staring at the bottom of your glass
Hoping one day you'll make a dream last
But dreams come slow and they go so fast
You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you'll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies

Her world is crumbling around her, but she's known it was coming. She's prepared her heart for it. Yet the pain is worse than she expected. Right now, she's just too tired to pick up the pieces.

The singing and the playing help, allowing her mind to wander from what she's been worrying about.

Cause you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go

Chloe's long, delicate fingers are flying over the keys, with obvious skill. The redhead's gaze is focused solely on the piano, concentrated, and serious. She doesn't notice Mrs. O'Shaughnessy come to the doorway.

Staring at the ceiling in the dark
Same old empty feeling in your heart
Love comes slow and it goes so fast
Well you see her when you fall asleep
But never to touch and never to keep
'Cause you loved her too much and you dive too deep

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy stands at the door, just listening to the way Chloe is playing the piano. The sadness of the young redhead is just infused into the melody. Considering the obvious emotional state of Chloe, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy is actually quite impressed with how well the young redhead is playing.

It's only topped by how well the young woman is singing. The Blues origin of the song perfectly captured by the redhead's surprising ability to sing bass.

Beca's face flashes in Chloe's mind as she sings the chorus. It causes a slight catch in her voice.

And you let her go
Oh oh oh no
And you let her go
Oh oh oh no
And you let her go

For a moment thoughts of Beca distracts the redhead and her finger slips, just a little, hitting the wrong key. Immediately her concentration goes back to the music, refocusing her.

Well, you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go

In the back of her consciousness, Chloe hears someone at the door, and then footsteps into the room. She doesn't let this intrusion interrupt what is a rather calming exercise. However, she does pull herself back to reality a bit. Not letting herself be so lost in the music.

The grandmotherly woman steps into the room and closes the door behind her. Chloe looks up, her eyes meeting Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's. They share sad smiles.

And you let her go

"Ach, me wee Astoreen, what has ye so brónach? So, sad?," Mrs. O'Shaughnessy asks.

Chloe shakes her head. "I'm not feeling sad. I'm just wallowing in the uselessness of my existence."

She says it as a joke, but Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's face suggests she isn't finding any humor in it. With hands on hips, she scolds, "Don't be denigrating me, Astoreen." There's something extra scolding in an Irish accent.

It causes Chloe to sit up and say, "Yes ma'am."

"Better, Astoreen. Now tell me what your wee muirnin Beca's done now?," Mrs. O'Shaughnessy asks with a sigh.

"Why do you think it's Beca?," Chloe asks.

The older woman gives her a soft, knowing smile as she answers, "Because there's no one in this world that can stir up so much emotion in ye, me Astoreen."

Chloe can only smile at this answer. It's true. It's so true.

"Also, because she's worth it," whispers Mrs. O'Shaughnessy. This causes Chloe to smile. "You know, Astoreen, I don't mind listening if ye want t' talk, and maybe, f'r an ol' woman, I might just be able to give ye a wee bit of advice…"

"I can't," Chloe answers. "I have a music lesson any minute." The redhead looks at the clock to emphasize the point. The clock actually shows that the next student is late.

"Ach, you have t'excuse me poor memory, I meant t' tell ye in the break room. Yer next lesson had t' reschedule. I'm sorry, Astoreen."

"It's okay," Chloe replies with a shrug. "Truth is, it's a godsend. I wasn't really in the mood to teach today."

"Well, now ye have the time t' tell me what's goin' on w'ye. I'm always here for ye, Astoreen."

Chloe considers the offer for a half a heartbeat, then launches herself at the Irish grandmother, wrapping her arms around her. She sighs into the older woman's shoulder and whispers, "I'm worried about Beca, and I may have irrevocably destroyed my friendship with her."

"What?," Mrs. O'Shaughnessy asks incredulously. "Don't be daft. Us Gingers are smarter than that. That girl loves ye. It's plain as day."

Chloe shakes her head. "I basically declared my love for her and she ran. Both figuratively and literally ran away. I haven't heard from her since that night, and that was two rather short texts. Since then she's ignored me."

"Oh, such high drama. I blame the soap operas. Give it some time. All the stuff you're dealing with, it's just a bump in the road. It's all part of the lead up to the most amazing relationship the world has ever seen."

Chloe is nonplussed, but she has learned to put great store in any advice Mrs. O'Shaughnessy gives her. "Do you really think so?"

"Aye, lass. That girl loves ye. I think she is dealing with some things, but if ye remain strong, I know love will find the way." There's just such sincerity in her words and in her eyes. It fills her hollow chest with warmth. Suddenly, the thoughts of Beca don't hurt. The memories that have been so bittersweet and tart, are now sweet and delicious. Chloe can't help but smile, fond nostalgia filling her thoughts.

"Now, me Astoreen, why don't ye keep playing?," Mrs. O'Shaughnessy suggests, though there's little doubt for Chloe it is more of a command.

The redhead smiles anyway, nodding. Music makes both of them feel better. "What should I play?"

"Play me the song you would want to play for the wee muirnin if she were here," Mrs. O'Shaughnessy suggests.

A song instantly springs to Chloe's mind. It's been a secret song she's always pictured dancing with Beca to. Dancing at their wedding, in many a fantasy. She sits at the piano bench and her fingers instantly begin tickling the ivory.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy smiles the moment she hears the melody. It's a favorite. It was the last song she ever danced with Mr. O'Shaughnessy to. It just reinforces the feelings she has for the young redheaded lass and the sense that they are connected in a way that is just a mystery of the universe.

Chloe plays the entire first verse before she circles back and begins singing. She worried that with all the emotions churning in her that her voice might catch, but it comes out clear and strong.

What would I do without your smart mouth
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out
Got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down

The first time Chloe had heard this song on the radio, she had been looking out across the student common of Barden and had just happened to have her eyes land on Beca.

What's going on in that beautiful mind
I'm on your magical mystery ride
And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright

Chloe's fingers dance across the keys as she remembers Beca had been in her usual spot under the oak tree, working on a mix of course. It was one of those moments she knew her feelings for the young DJ were more than just Fast Friends.

My head's under water
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

Okay, so maybe she was the crazy one, but Beca had her moments too. Chloe loved every one of them.

Her fingers are quite nimble as she plays. She's often sat in her room with headphones plugged into her keyboard playing this song.

'Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
'Cause I give you all, all of me
And you give me all, all of you

The words have always rung so true for her. She should have sung this at Karaoke. Maybe Beca wouldn't have run. These are words of love. Not a challenge to Jesse.

How many times do I have to tell you
Even when you're crying you're beautiful too
The world is beating you down, I'm around through every move
You're my downfall, you're my muse
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues
I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you

That's actually what she regrets about that night, she's come to realize. Her declaration of love was tinged with jealousy and a juvenile competition when it should have just been the pure love she has for her tiny DJ.

My head's under water
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

Her face shows the emotions she's experiencing but her playing stays pure and perfect. She doesn't think she can make a mistake with this song anymore. Muscle memory is just too ingrained.

She wishes the same could be said in her relationship with Beca. She's made too many mistakes. She just hopes Beca can forgive her.

And while this may never be played at her wedding, it will always be partly true. She will always give her all to Beca.

Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts
Risking it all, though it's hard

Chloe plays the refrain without vocals one time through as she composes herself for the final verse.

She sings with all her heart, because she's singing about Beca, and it just comes naturally, so she ends as strong as she began.

I give you all, all of me
And you give me all, all of you

The last note slowly fades away, and a comfortable silence descends on the room. "Not something you sing if you're letting her go," observes Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.

"Because I realize I'm not," says Chloe. A realization she hadn't been expecting, dawning for her.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy asks, "Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Then let's talk about getting your wee muirnin lass."

o0o

Riding in the taxi, Beca looks out the window at the neighborhood, which is both familiar and alien at the same time. It's like nothing here has really changed, but it's been so long it's all a hazy memory.

Her phone buzzes, alerting her of another message. She ignores it as the only people still texting her are Jesse and Aubrey. Neither are people she wants to hear from right now. Aubrey continues to rant at her in that way that actually tells Beca she cares. Jesse, on the other hand, is full on puppy dog. Not a good look.

Beca can't think about that right now. She needs to focus on the task at hand. She girds herself for the confrontation she's about to have with her mother. She's going home, well to a home. It had never felt like her home, but it had been for a couple years before going off to college. Truly it was just the place she and her mom had finally ended up after the divorce. There are very few happy memories tied to the place.

The cab pulls up to the front of the house and Beca contemplates having him just drive on. The cab driver waits, somewhat patiently as Beca just stares at the house, but she can tell he's getting impatient. With a sigh of resignation, Beca pays the cab driver and climbs out of the car, grabbing her small overnight bag from the backseat.

When she created a plan of action in her head, confronting her mother and getting past the mental hurdles that relationship causes, seemed like a smart plan. Now standing before her mother's house in Portland, Maine, it seems stupid and daunting.

She shivers slightly, but she's not sure if that's from the cool mist of the early morning or the tension building within her. She's going to say the cold gray weather, if for no other reason than she's trying to deny how hard this is. It is much cooler here in Portland, Maine, up north of everything that is her life now. It's not cold-cold, but the cool air in Maine is just fresher and has a crispness to it. There's a steady gentle breeze coming off the ocean, that adds to the coolness and pushes the mist about, just adding to the ghostly bleakness of the area, which is fitting as it mirrors her soul right now.

Beca is actually glad she listened to Sam and bought a light jacket back in New York and packed it into her new overnight bag. She had brought nothing with her from LA, save for her phone and the clothes on her back. This had actually been strangely liberating, which is exactly what she needed.

After a few minutes, Beca realizes she's just been standing in front of her mother's house and must look rather suspicious. She decides she needs to get this over with. With reluctant steps, she slowly walks up the short path to the small house which might have once been considered her home.

She walks to the front steps, and stops, wondering if it's not too late to turn around. Can she take another 'fire and brimstone' speech? Probably not. There are only four steps but they seem so imposing at the moment. Will her mother look at her with scorn when she confesses what's in her heart? She wishes Chloe were here, she provides her strength, a strength she needs as she climbs up to the front porch. But then Chloe would be subjected to the homophobia her mother was being indoctrinated in. Beca couldn't do that to the ray of light that is Chloe Beale.

Approaching the front door of a house she hasn't been to in years, Beca is full of trepidation. She has been putting this off for too long. She finds herself wishing this would just be over with already.

Of course, she's stalling at pushing the doorbell. When she finally does, she doesn't hear anything. Now she's in the weird predicament of, does she push the button again, does she wait, or does she knock?

Finally, she feels enough time has passed enough for it to be reasonable for her to knock. She takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. Then stands there fidgeting, half hoping that her mother isn't actually home. Though the more she thinks about it, that would be stupid and counterproductive. It would mean she would have to wait, wasting time in Portland.

No, Beca has to talk to her mother. It is too important. It is crucial if she's going to fix things with Chloe. Also, she's come to realize she has a mom size hole in her life. Something she had repressed till her well-meaning friends had forced her to confront.

Beca was once quite close to her mother. Her mother had been her world. She was the person who initially introduced Beca to music, and all that world offers.

She remembers her mother's sweet, melodic voice that always would sing her to sleep when she was tired or not feeling well. That was probably what she missed most about her mom.

She's contemplating knocking again when the door does finally open and, with all the courage she can muster, Beca says, "Hey, mom."

An older woman stands in the doorway s, standing rooted in place with shock. It's easy to see that the woman standing before Beca is her mother. She has the same soft brown hair, though it's now streaked with gray. Similar features, though a few more lines around the eyes, and mouth. It's the eyes though that totally reveals the relationship this woman has with Beca. Beca has her mother's eyes. The same storm-blue eyes, with the same hint of sadness. Now those eyes are wide with shock.

The woman whispers in disbelief, "Beca?" It's almost as if she's worried that Beca isn't real, just a trick of the light in the morning mist.

Beca has to fight to maintain eye contact. She hesitantly says, "Hi."

"Beca!" Beca's mother surges forward and wraps Beca into a tight hug. The older woman holds onto Beca like she's afraid the younger woman is going to disappear if she doesn't hold on. Beca is shocked, this is totally not the reception she was expecting. It's then Beca realizes she's holding onto her mother in a similar manner.

They just stand there hugging, for an extended amount of time, neither wanting to be the first to disengage. Beca realizes how much she's missed these hugs, how much she's missed her mother. It also dawns on her how much Chloe's hugs had come to replace the lost contact with her mother.

When she had last seen her mother at her graduation ceremony from Barden, they had hugged, but it had been short, perfunctory. They had been surrounded by people and had the tension of Beca's father standing right there with Sheila. The situation had not allowed for Beca to let her guard down. Beca had not allowed herself to let her guard down.

Finally, her mother does pull back but maintains contact with Beca as if she's afraid Beca will leave if contact is lost. Beca can see her mother's gray-blue eyes are brimming with tears, and she feels hers doing the same. Her mother says, "Please come in. Come in." There's a pleading quality to her request.

Beca just nods and allows herself to be pulled across the threshold of the front door. She follows her mother down the hallway to the back of the house. She's walking through a house, not a home. It's as alien a landscape to her as her father's house back in Georgia. It feels strange for her to be here. Still the smells from the kitchen tell her that she is being guided towards the kitchen; the smell of coffee, strong.

Her mother walks her to the small breakfast table and points to an empty chair. "Sit, please. Coffee?"

Beca nods as she takes the offered seat, then looks up at her mother and says, "Yes, please." She tries smiling, but she knows it's sad.

"Let me just call into work," her mother says.

"You don't have to," Beca says.

"No, you're here, they can do without me," her mother says as she types in the phone number. She puts it to her ear and waits for the call to be answered. "Kate? It's Ruth, umm, something has come up unexpectedly. Can you cover for me?... You can? Thanks, I'll make it up to you… Yes, I do… Thanks again… Bye." She smiles softly. "My friend Kate will cover for me. So I'm yours for the day." Beca smiles her thanks. Ruth realizes she still owes her daughter a coffee. "Let me get that coffee."

Beca sits at the small breakfast table as her mother moves about the kitchen, making her cup of coffee. She's sitting on the chair next to the window and looking about. Not much has changed. She's nervous, anxiously tapping her fingers on the table, letting out a nervous breath. Her eyes dart around the kitchen and she's surprised to see a few pictures of her from college. A couple she's sent, more her father must have, and one causes her eyes to widen in disbelief. It was taken in Copenhagen…

Her father wasn't at Copenhagen. She hadn't sent any from Copenhagen.

It was a shot of Beca as the trophy was being presented. It was taken from the crowd and it's of her being hugged from the side by Chloe.

Beca couldn't believe there's a picture of her and Chloe, placed quite prominently in her mother's kitchen.

"Mom?," Beca asks hesitantly. "Where did you get that picture?" She gestures to let her know which picture she's asking about.

Her mother freezes halfway to the small breakfast table, Beca's coffee in her hand. She looks at the indicated picture, but it's more to give her a chance to collect herself. She knows exactly which picture Beca is pointing at.

Her shoulders slump as she finishes walking over. Setting the cup in front of Beca, she takes the seat directly across from her daughter and then looks up. Ruth whispers, "I took it." She cringes as if she's expecting Beca to explode.

The silence stretches between them. Beca's face clearly shows her shock. "You were in Copenhagen? For the World Championship?"

Ruth nods. "Uhhh—Yeah…"

"Why?," Beca asks incredulously.

"Because I wanted to see you perform. I wanted to see you happy. You were so happy, even happier than the year before when you won in New York City."

"Wait! You were in New York City for the ICCA?"

"Yes…" it comes out so defeated, her mother can't meet her eyes. She looks so ashamed. Before Beca can ask anything else, her mom speaks again, softly, almost unheard. "I missed your first, but I went to the next two. I was so proud of you. You seemed so happy up there with your friends."

"Why?"

"Like I said, I wanted…"

Beca cuts her off, "No. I mean, why didn't you reach out. Why didn't you tell me you were there?"

Her mother stares at her coffee, feeling the heat radiating from the mug. Beca is tempted to re-ask the question, but thinks better of it and remains silent. Finally, her mother starts talking. "I-I-I wasn't sure you wanted me there. I knew things were strained when you left for school. I had come to realize how much I had hurt you those final years of high school. It wasn't until you were gone that I comprehended how divorced I was from you."

Beca sits there stunned. This isn't what she expected. She had thought for sure she would get into an argument, or be tossed from the house. To find out her mother had wanted to reconnect but had been too afraid, was shocking.

"After you left, I was lost," Ruth says dejectedly. "I sank deeper into my depression. It was like losing your father all over again. I went back to drinking, but I also went to more services at Pastor Presley's church." She can see Beca visibly flinch at the mention of the minister's name. She nods. "You would have hated me. You were right to stay away."

Beca starts to say something, but her mother shakes her head and continues. "Then I get a message from your father. It's a couple of video clips he took of you and your friends, during your first performance in New York. He was so proud of you. He didn't know how far I had fallen, but just wanted me to see how much college had done for you."

Tears stream down her mother's face. "I descended even further. It was easy to see how you had blossomed once you were away from me." A soft sob escapes her. "It became quite apparent to me that I was the reason your father left, the reason you left and you chose to stay away."

"One night while on a true bender of booze and self-pity, I passed out in an alley behind a bar. By the grace of God, I was found by a church group and not someone who would take advantage of me.

"It was a nondenominational church, run by a woman minister. Pastor Mary McInerney. She sat with me that whole night. She visited the next day, and the next, and the next, till suddenly I realized I had talked with her every day for a month." Beca feels tears streaming down her face. She hadn't known about any of this. She had basically cut her mother out of her life.

Ruth keeps talking. "She began to show me there was another way to see God's word. She showed me that I may have been pushing people away."

Beca finds herself hearing echoes of how she handles things. Pushing people away, running away from problems. She rubs at the tears with the back of her hand.

Her mother continues. "I took a real look in the mirror. I realized one of the things driving you away was Pastor Presley and his fire and brimstone rants of sermons. I realized you had been hurting, and I had been part of the cause. Hell, I may have been the primary cause. I was so ashamed." A small sob escapes her mother and Beca realizes her mother is crying even harder than she is.

Beca can hear the worry in her mother's voice and the guilt. "Stop, please mom. It's okay."

"I was so terrible to you," sobs Ruth.

"It's okay. You should have told me, Mom," Beca whispers.

"I didn't want to drag you down," Ruth replies. "You were growing so well without me. I didn't want to jeopardize it."

Beca can't believe this. She thought her mother had shunned her. She thought her mother didn't want to be part of her life. She thought she had basically been replaced in her mother's life. Now she was learning her mother had thought she was the one who had moved on.

"I've missed you, Mom," Beca whispers.

Ruth whispers back, "I've missed you too, honey."

The two women are up out of their seats and hugging again. Each sobbing into the other's shoulder, holding onto the other for all they are worth. Both are realizing they have lost so much time.

They continue to hold one another for a long time, neither in the mood to let go.

"So, why are you here, honey?," her mother asks, hesitantly.

"I recently realized I miss my mother," Beca answers, feeling safe in this half-truth. She wants to tell her mother everything; she needs to tell her mom everything. She's just not sure she's ready.

Her mother senses this, she looks down at the coffee and decides to give her daughter a second. "Why don't I freshen up your coffee?"

Beca nods her head, thankful for the brief reprieve, as her mother picks up the coffee mug from the table and walks back to the counter area. Beca watches her, biting her lip, something she has always done since she was a little girl. Whenever she had wanted to say something but was unsure, she would bite her lower lip.

Now it seems such a natural action to do, here in her mother's kitchen, as she tries to find a way to word what she's come here to say, in the best possible way, or at least in the least embarrassing way possible.

Her mother returns with a fresh cup of coffee. "Please, let's actually drink these cups," Ruth says, with the ghost of a smile.

"Yes, please," Beca says as she accepts this second cup. She needs to have her coffee. She's actually getting a caffeine headache.

Taking her first sip of coffee this morning, she lets out an exaggerated contented sigh.

"Still an addict, I see," laughs Ruth. Beca opens her eyes and smiles back. She's actually happy to see her mother showing a lighter side.

Life suddenly seems less daunting, as she slowly sips the hot, sweetened beverage. Beca closes her eyes, smiling as she suddenly feels like she is facing a new day.

"Not that I'm not ecstatic you're here, Beca, but I have to ask, what brings you here?," Ruth asks hesitantly.

Beca shrugs, even though she knows exactly why she's there. She takes a deep breath. "I just have something I need to talk to you about. Something really important to me."

This seems to catch her mother off-guard. She sits a little straighter and suddenly looks very nervous. "I-I -I know I don't have the best track record, but I do want to be here for you."

"Thanks, Mom," Beca says, casting a forlorn smile her mother's way, but she lapses into silence. Both women maintain the silence, unsure who should go first.

She hadn't been able to see it for so long, but this woman seems to be an entirely different person. Looking into the eyes of this woman, she knows deep in her heart her mom loves her.

"Honey?"

"To be perfectly honest mom, I have no idea who I am anymore," Beca answers. Beca continues to chew at her bottom lip for a moment, debating if she can go through with this or not.

"Take your time, honey."

Finally, Beca takes a deep breath and starts to speak. "Mom, I'm sorry, I really am, I just don't know how to tell you." Her voice sounds small and timid. She feels like a small child.

The next words get lodged uncomfortably in her throat like they are a solid object, quite capable of choking her. Her mother looks at her, concern on her face.

"It's okay, honey,"

Beca lets out a sigh, quite aware she's been doing that a lot lately, but things seem so hard and out-of-control. She herself feels out-of-control. Looking up, she finds her mom watching her pensively.

She inhales deeply and looks up at her mother, blushing a light pink. "Mom, I have something I need to tell you... I think I might be gay. A lesbian."

Time stands still.

It takes Beca's mother a few seconds to intake and process everything. She taps a finger against the table surface with a thoughtful expression, then lets out a deep sigh saying, "Well, you do own a lot of plaid."

"Plaid? Really? That's what you have to say?"

"I guess…"

"I just told you I'm... gay…" the word is hard to say. "A Lesbian…" It strikes Beca, this conversation is the first time she's using these words to describe herself out loud; to put these labels on herself. Saying them out loud helps, she feels they're true.

"It's the best I could come up with," Ruth replies with a shrug. "I mean I kind of always thought you were. It's why I was so hard on you, why I shunned you while you were in high school. To be honest, I was shocked to find out you started dating that boy in college, what was his name? Jason?"

"Jesse," Beca supplies.

"Jesse, that's right. I was always surprised when you dated him, and for so long," Ruth says.

"We're still together," Beca whispers.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"That must be complicated."

"More than you know," Beca says as she begins fiddling with her thumb ring, trying to avoid her mother's gaze by looking out the window and at the forest behind the house. "So you don't have a problem with me being a lesbian?"

A long silence filled the air before her mother shakes her head. "I might have four years ago. I was definitely in a dark place. But I love you, Beca. You know that I do," a small smile creeps onto her lips, "and I'm sure that if you are in a place to come and tell me, then you are sure. I'm also guessing there's someone in particular…"

Beca is surprised by this deduction. "Why do you think that?"

"Because, if there wasn't someone, you wouldn't be forced to confront this aspect of yourself," her mother answers.

Beca sighs, pushing her hand back into her hair. Running her fingers through the soft brown locks and letting her eyes fall closed for a moment. "That's true."

"So? There is someone? Someone who is causing this to come to a head?"

"It's complicated…"

"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to, but if you need…"

"You know I came here thinking this would be a confrontation. That I was going to fight with you and challenge your worldview. Then you all but admitted you were wrong and sorry. Now I find myself in the weird place, where I don't want to burden you instead," Beca admits.

"I understand why. It's okay if you don't, but if you want, you can tell me about it," says Ruth.

"It's a long story," explains Beca.

Her mother gives Beca a head shake before she grabs her hand and runs her thumb against it. "That's fine, we have time, honey. At least, if you have time. I mean, if you want. Please, feel free, Beca, to tell me everything." Listening to her mother, Beca now knows where she picked up the propensity to ramble.

Beca is touched by her mother's sincerity, and she finds herself desperately wanting to share with her everything that has happened while she's been at school and in LA. She proceeds to tell her mother the story of her life. It takes all morning and Beca is shocked at her mother's reactions. She looks concerned in all the right moments, thoughtful in others, amused in more than a few, and she smiles mischievously in ones where Beca talks about Chloe, which makes Beca the most nervous.

Her ramblings take her on a journey into all the fears she has. She admits to her mother that many of these fears were installed by her mother's turn to the bottle and religion. This had been at the top of her list of grievances she wanted to bring up to her mother, but now that she is saying the words out loud, it doesn't feel as right. Part of that could be how apologetic her mother is.

When she is finally done, she takes a deep breath, she feels like she's been talking nonstop for hours. Her throat is dry and her mother passed her a glass of water, the coffee finished a long time ago. She glances at the clock on the stove as she takes a sip of water and almost spits it out. She has been talking for hours, three and a half, to be exact.

"There it is, that's all of it. My pitch perfect life," she says biting her lip, waiting for her mother to say something. Ruth just looks at her. "Mom? Can you say something… please?," Beca didn't expect to be so emotional at this moment, she felt her eyes brimming with tears.

"Thank you." Beca looks at her mother in confusion. Ruth continues, "Thank you for coming back. Thank you for being brave enough to face this and share."

"You're not mad at me. Or think I'm weak?"

Ruth shakes her head. "No, not at all. You were dealing with personal demons, many of which I laid upon you."

"I once thought the Bible was so clear on this topic," Ruth says. "But Pastor Mary showed me that God truly is love and much too great to be worried about such trivial things.

"The only thing that makes someone anything is God. God makes us who we are, period. God doesn't make mistakes, and God made you to be exactly who you are, Beca Mitchell."

Ruth points to the picture of Beca and Chloe at Worlds. "That's Chloe, isn't it?" Beca nods. "I took that picture because I had never seen you happier, in your life. Since that moment, I've often looked at it and wondered what you were thinking. The look you're sharing with her is pure love."

Ruth looks back at Beca with all her love. "I want you to be happy, Beca, I don't care if it's with a boy or a girl. All I care is that you are happy. So as long as the person you love makes you happy, then you'll have my blessings and support…"

Beca throws her arms around her mother and hugs her tightly. "To be honest," she whispers, "I'm still finding out things about myself that I didn't know before."

"That's okay, honey. That's life. I'm still learning things about myself." She holds Beca at arm's length, holding her daughter at each elbow. "You need to make decisions for yourself on this Beca. And you need to make them based on what you want, what you need, what you feel in your very soul. Don't worry about Jesse, or your career, or society in general. Do what's best for you, Beca."

"I want Chloe. The funny thing is I don't even feel gay, I just feel that Chloe is my soulmate… oh, God, I just used soulmate as a descriptor. But that's how I feel."

Ruth can't help but laugh. It's infectious and Beca starts giggling too.

"You should tell her," Ruth says when she and Beca are done laughing.

"What? No, I couldn't, I can't…" Beca can't begin to express how much panic the idea fills her with.

"Yes. I'm probably the last person you want advice from. I know this, but if you like this Chloe, tell her"

"Seriously?"

"Yes," her mother answers succinctly.

"You see, it's like this with Chloe…"

o0o

Chloe returns home to the empty apartment. Her talk with Mrs. O'Shaughnessy has actually helped. She's glad she's stayed away. Home without Beca didn't quite seem like home to Chloe.

It wasn't that Chloe was dependent on Beca; it's just that Beca really feels like Chloe's other half. With Beca gone Chloe just doesn't feel whole.

Her phone buzzes, she fishes it out of her back pocket and sees it's Aubrey. "Hey, Bree. What's up?"

"Hey, Chloe, just wanted to see how your day is going," the blonde says.

Chloe sighs, few people are as blessed as she is to have a friend as true as Aubrey, but Chloe also doesn't want to be seen as fragile. "I'm fine, Bree."

"What're you up to?," Aubrey asks.

"I just returned from the academy. I have a couple lessons coming up and I think Emily is going to be back soon," Chloe replies.

"Cool. Will we see you later tonight?"

"Actually, Bree, I think I'm going to stay at my place tonight," Chloe answers. She cringes, slightly nervous about Aubrey's reaction.

Her blonde friend sighs. "Are you sure Chloe?"

"What am I going to do, Bree?," Chloe asks her longtime friend in answer. "I can't hide out at your place forever." She then sighs. "Besides, I don't think Beca's coming back."

"What if she does come back?," Aubrey asks, her concern quite evident.

"I mean I haven't thought about it…"

"Chloe…," Aubrey says incredulously.

"Okay, maybe I have thought about it for like a minute."

Chloe can hear Aubrey sigh over the phone.

"Okay, okay! I have been thinking about what I'm going to say to her a lot," Chloe sighs.

"And?"

"I don't know. I mean I've wished for her to come through our door. I've dreamed about what would happen. I think I have thought of every way it could go."

Chloe's face drops a little and she says with a little less hope, "I always hope it will be alright, but part of me also thinks Beca is never coming through that door and, even if she does, she would never be into me."

"So why do you keep getting your hopes up?," Aubrey asks.

"Because all of these feelings that I have tried to keep buried always come rushing back whenever I see her. And I've never felt feelings like these for anyone else. I just know my feelings for her are real, Bree."

The silence on Aubrey's side tells the redhead her friend isn't convinced. Chloe decides to play unfair. "And, because you were right, at the karaoke. I have to try."

o0o

Beca is tired and just worn out as she steps off the plane and into the concourse. She hates that there are a ton of people all pressing in around her, all determined to be the first to wherever they are going. The concept of personal space completely foreign to this environment.

It's been a really trying week. Exhausting, both physically and mentally. True her time with her mother had gone better than she could have hoped for. They had reconciled and were mending their relationship, but even with everything going right, it's an exhausting experience.

Who knew dealing with emotions could be so tiring?

Beca's flight had not helped the situation. It actually had made the trip worse. Her flight had been completely full, not a single seat open, not even in those horrible five-seat sections that make up the middle of the plane. Beca knows this for sure because she had been in one of these very center seats in the second to the last row. Needless-to-say, there was no rest on the cross-country flight. She had been utterly miserable for the entirety of her nearly eight-hour flight.

Maybe it was part of her penance?

Beca isn't entirely sure if her petite size is a blessing or a curse as she navigates her way through the crush of bodies. She's headed down the escalator towards the baggage claim area and is appalled at the sheer number of people. The baggage claim area is packed, so she's thankful she can skip it having only her carry-on bag.

She's halfway down the escalator when she feels a slight bump. She ignores it but then there was another. Turning, she's about to tell the person to fuck-off but comes up short when she sees it's Lily.

"Lily?"

The quiet Korean smiles at Beca and deftly relieves Beca of her carry-on. "Hey," says Beca as Lily turns, mumbling something and starts walking up the down escalator. "Lily? Wait! What?"

The silent young woman says something over her shoulder but Beca can't make out anything as usual. There may have been the words, fish, time machine, and death, but she's not sure. She is sure she doesn't want to know how those words come together to make a sentence. Beca waits for a second and then starts up the escalator after Lily. Pumping her legs as hard as she can, she apologizes profusely as she slides past people coming down. Her cheeks are red with embarrassment under the withering looks of disapproval.

She finally catches Lily as the young Asian woman steps off the escalator. "Lily!"

She turns to Beca and beckons for the perturbed DJ to follow, out towards the departures drop-off area just outside the terminal. Again, Lily walks away, towards the direction she indicated and Beca is forced to play catch up. "Jesus, Lily! Can you please slow down?"

Beca slows down to a halt as they emerge from the airport terminal because standing before her is Ashley. Or is it Jessica? The blonde is holding open the door to a limousine.

"What's going on?," Beca asks nervously. Lily doesn't answer, she just gets into the front passenger seat with Beca's overnight bag.

"Don't ask," Jessica answers with a shake of her head. "Fat Amy wants to talk with you."

"How did she know I was even here?," Beca demands.

"Ashley and I learned a long time ago it's better not to ask," replies the blonde.

Beca is directed into the limousine and what she can only describe as a scene from The Godfather. "Ummm... Fat Amy?," she asks, even more baffled.

Fat Amy is sitting at the very back of the limo, with Ashley at her right hand. She sits there with hands together, fingers steepled, like a James Bond villain. "Ahhh, my wayward child has arrived," Fat Amy's Aussie accent seems muffled.

"What was that?," Beca asks, not quite catching what the blonde Aussie is saying as she gets herself seated. Jessica follows Beca into the limousine, taking the seat next to Fat Amy, opposite Ashley.

"Driver, drive," Amy commands in her usual voice, though still muffled; she then turns back towards Beca. "My wayward child, you have arrived." Fat Amy's words are still muffled and she seems to be affecting an impersonation.

"Why do you sound like that?," Beca asks in confusion. "Are you trying to sound like the Godfather?"

With an exaggerated sigh, Fat Amy "I prefer Godmother..."

"Like a Fairy?," Beca asks, totally confused. Ashley and Jessica have to fight to stifle their laughter. This is almost making up for all that Fat Amy has asked of them.

Fat Amy gives the pair an evil eye, which does cause the two to stop with the barely contained mirth. She then looks at Beca and says emphatically, "No! Not a Fairy Godmother. A Marlon Brando God Mother, you know if he was a sexy ass Aussie from Tasmania."

Beca considers this, and then nods, "Yeah, that makes more sense."

Fat Amy makes a face tries again. "Beca, Beca, Beca, you wound me..."

It's at this point Beca notices a bowl of marshmallows sitting next to her strange blonde friend. "Wait, did you stuff marshmallows into your cheeks?"

Fat Amy rolls her eyes, but then swallows several times. "Maybe," she says while tossing a few more marshmallows into her mouth.

Beca gives her a look.

"Excuse me for trying to set the scene," she says with a huff. "Besides, you should be apologizing to me for running out the other night and not returning my messages."

Beca feels bad. She drops her eyes to the floor and starts playing with her thumb ring. She says with all sincerity, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I feel bad about what happened."

"It's okay, Shawshank, but can that be the last? We have the Stag and Hen ball tonight."

Beca looks at her friend incredulously. "The what?"

Ashley answers, "The Stag and Hen ball..."

"It's like a Hen Party," Jessica adds in.

Beca's confusion grows. "Hen Party?"

"Basically, it's a bachelorette party," Ashley answers.

"Then why didn't you just call it a bachelorette party?," Beca asks as if any answer will be ridiculed.

"Because I'm from Tasmania," Fat Amy answers with a huff. "And I want to inject some Aussie awesomeness into these proceedings."

"Okay," Beca huffs back. "I was just asking. So, if a Hen Party is a bachelorette party, I take it the Stag is basically a bachelor party?"

"Yeah," answers Ashley.

"Again with an Aussie flair," says Fat Amy proudly.

"Yeah," Jessica nods. "Though we're having a combined affair so maybe it's now a STEN Party."

"Oh, that's a good one," says Beca. "But, I might have been inclined to call it a HAG Party."

"Hey!," Fat Amy says indignantly.

Beca, Jessica, and Ashley burst into laughter, and after a couple seconds, Fat Amy joins in.

After a bit. "Hey, Beca?," Fat Amy says, a little more serious.

This catches Beca off-guard. "Umm… Yeah?"

"Can you please do something about your toner for Chloe?," Amy asks all serious. "You'll be happier and the Ginger won't look like a pack of dingoes ran off with her binky." The blonde from down under chuckles to herself as Beca splutters her response. Amy does note that there is no denial coming from her best friend.

"Amy!," Beca says with some heat. "It's not that easy."

"Sure it is, Shawshank," Fat Amy assures her smaller friend. "Basically you just need to go back to your place, take Chloe in hand, kiss her, rip her clothes off, toss her down on the bed, and go at it like jackrabbits. Or as Bumper and I call it; Wednesday."

"TMI," Beca says exasperatedly.

"Not for her," Jessica sighs. Ashley nods.

"You all are just so boring," Fat Amy observes. "That said, Shawshank, you still need to do something about the Ginger."

"I know," says Beca in resignation.

"So, what are you going to do?," Fat Amy asks. Ashley and Jessica lean forward, curiosity clear on their faces.

"I'm going to make things right, and your HAG Party…"

"STEN Party, please," Amy interjects.

"...should come in quite handy," Beca says, ignoring Fat Amy. She has a plan forming in her mind. "Amy, instruct your driver to head to UCLA. I need to talk to Stacie. While we drive there we can discuss this party of yours. I'm going to need your help."

"This should be fun," says Fat Amy, rubbing her hands together.

o0o

"BECA!"

The moment she spots the tiny DJ, Stacie leaves her fellow students, and sprints over to the petite brunette. She wraps the tiny DJ up with her long arms, pulling the smaller woman off the ground and tight against her body.

"Oh, my God! Put me down you giraffe in a lab coat," Beca grunts indignantly.

To her surprise, Stacie does and then cuffs Beca on the back of her head with an open palm slap.

"Ow!," Beca yelps. Her hand instinctively going to the back of her head.

"That's what you get for taking off like that." Stacie's glare is intense and Beca thinks it may rival that of Kimmy-Jin, her roommate from Freshman year.

Stacie slaps the back of Beca's head again.

"Ouch! Abuse!"

"That's for going radio silent for a week," Stacie says seriously and then proceeds to do it again.

"That's for not answering any of my texts," says the leggy brunette.

Stacie hits her upside the head again.

"Ouch! Damn you, woman! What the Hell was that for?" Beca is rubbing the back of her head. Those slaps seriously smarted.

"That was to earn points with Aubrey because your antics have totally blocked the Hunter with her." Stacie's voice drops to a whisper. "We haven't done it in over a week."

"Wait, you and Aubrey are actually a thing?," Beca asks, surprised. "I thought all that flirting and innuendo was mostly for show."

Stacie drops her voice into a deep husk. "I never do anything just for show."

Beca has to swallow, partly at the realization she finds Stacie's husky voice a real turn on. She may be further along on the gay spectrum than she thought.

"So you and Posen? That's for real?," Beca asks surprised.

"Yep." Stacie pops the 'P' for emphasis. Beca isn't sure what to say. "She may be the best sex I've ever had, which is saying something because the Bellas alone have been some of the…"

Beca holds her hands up in a poor attempt to block Stacie's verbal assault on her brain. "I do not need the mental images of any of the Bellas with you, ever." Accept one does pop into her brain along with the memory of a revelation.

"Okay, I don't see what the big deal is. The Hunter just landed a little closer to home than you knew. I'm allowed to appreciate the finer things and, trust me, the Bellas are the finer things."

"Oh, my God, can we talk about something else?," Beca pleads.

"Okay, Shortstack, I'll take pity on you. So what brings you to my neck of LA?"

Beca notices some of Stacie's fellow students watching and decides she doesn't want to talk here. "Stace… Do you have time for lunch?"

"For you? Of course. Let me put my samples away and grab my bag."

"Thanks, Stace. I'll wait outside."

"Be out in five… There's a Tex-Mex place we can walk to. It's my favorite."

"Sounds great…"

Fifteen minutes later the two friends are settled at the little mom and pop Tex-Mex place, having just put in their order. "So yeah, I spent the last couple days at my mother's."

"Wow, Becs, that's a lot." Stacie is truly amazed at the narrative Beca just told on the way over, about her reunion with her mother. She lifts her iced tea up taking another sip. The tall brunette quips, "I thought you were just going to say you buried yourself in work and signed a new artist…"

"Oh, I did that too." Beca answers. The excitement of her voice more a cover to move away from the subject of her mom. Though the healing had started, it was still a bit of a raw nerve. She had just needed to tell someone about it, and after Chloe, she trusts Stacie the most. Her sojourn to New York City is the perfect excuse to change the subject, "When I ran, I used work as an excuse to get out of the city. I went to New York City. There was this singer, she could be something, something great. Anyway she wants to move out here, and I convinced her to sign with the studio. I'm not sure if J Michael is ecstatic or annoyed that I jumped in. Things can be two things at once I suppose…" Beca just vomits the words, a rush that Stacie can barely keep up with but tells her that Beca is on edge.

"Beca…"

"... Though J Michael can't really complain because I closed the deal. Her name is Kenya, you know, like the country. Let me tell you, she has a voice that is similar to Sia's, if you crossed it with Shakira's…"

"Beca! Breathe!," Stacie cuts in. Beca shuts up and stares at Stacie. She realizes she was talking way too fast but just couldn't help herself.

"As much as I want to hear you talk about your work, and I definitely want to come back to Kenya, let's table that discussion for another time," Stacie says gently.

"What, why?"

"Because, Beca, everything that is going on with you personally is way more important than all the professional success you are experiencing," Stacie says emphatically.

"Oh," is all Beca can say as she drops her eyes to the table, a little chagrined.

"Hey." Stacie waves to get Beca's attention back. "Not that I don't want to hear your work stories, and I totally appreciate you sharing with me about your mom," she gestures around them at the restaurant, "and I'm totally digging getting to have lunch with you at my favorite place near campus," Stacie fixes Beca with a look, "and I'm so glad you're back. But, what's the real reason you came to see me?"

Beca shrugs. "To talk."

"Beca."

"Really, just to talk…"

"Beca," there's a tone of incredulity.

"Fine!," Beca huffs. "I'm worried about Chloe…"

"What's wrong with Chloe?," Stacie asks, immediately concerned.

"Nothing… She's fine… I think…" Beca stammers.

Stacie fixes Beca with a look. "You haven't spoken with Chloe yet, have you?"

Beca's eyes drop to the table. "Ummm… No…"

"Beca…" Stacie's tone is filled with reproach.

Beca is completely flummoxed and feels herself getting emotional. Since her meeting with her mother, Beca had been a jumbled hot mess of emotions. Tears began to form in her eyes as Beca tries to speak. "I… I… I'm not sure…"

Stacie has never seen the little badass in such a state. Beca doesn't show emotions like these. "Beca?"

Beca keeps her eyes cast down. The look on Chloe's face at the Karaoke bar is frozen in her mind. She's playing with her thumb ring when she hears Stacie repeat her name in question. Beca talks but it's low and hard for Stacie to hear. "I-I-I'm not sure how to fix this. I really messed things up and I'm worried…"

Stacie decides honesty is the best policy in this situation. "Yes, yes you did. But this is Chloe and she loves you. If you're honest with her, she'll be forgiving."

Beca finally manages to raise her eyes to meet Stacie's. "This screw up seems a bit bigger."

The tall brunette nods her head, her face conveying the truth of what Beca just said. "It is, which is why you have to get over yourself and not do that thing you do."

"What 'thing'?," Beca asks truly confused.

"The verbal avoidance thing you do," Stacie says plainly. There's no teasing or mischief in her tone. The brilliant brunette is quite serious.

Beca can't help the chuckles that escapes her lips though. "That's a good way to put it. I never heard it called that. I mastered it at a young age."

Stacie nods, understanding. She also came from a broken home. She had dealt with it in a slightly different manner. The Hunter had been born, so she met the needs of physical intimacy and human interaction but never any emotional attachment. She looks at Beca with caring eyes. "Yeah, but with Chloe, you need to not master it. She's someone who believes in communication."

Before either can say anything else the waitress arrives with food and the two friends lapse into silence. There's an awkwardness to the silence, so each begins to eat as a way to cover.

Stacie is about to resume her questioning, but Beca beats her to the punch. "Stacie… Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Shortstack…"

"Something personal…"

Stacie gives her a look that just says, 'Are you serious?'

Beca sighs. "You and Chloe?"

Stacie smiles. It's a slight smile, close to a smirk, but warm and caring, without a hint of mocking or teasing. "I was wondering when you would ask about that…"

Beca's eyes grow round. Her speaking picks up and she shakes her head back and forth. "What-I-mean… What? I'm just curious…"

"Uh-huh… So what do you want to know?"

Beca pauses. What did she want to know? Why did she ask that. She settles on the question that best fits her need to know. Beca asks, "Why didn't you two start dating?"

"Hmmm, thought maybe you would want to know how she is in the sack…"

"What-No! I mean-uh… maybe-NO!"

"Relax, Becs. I didn't really expect you to ask that."

"Oh, thanks…"

"She's awesome though, really attentive and loving… and quite athletic…"

"What?"

"... like really bendy…"

"Ugh-Stop!" Beca covers her ears and looks up at her taller friend, and in a small voice asks, "Please?"

Stacie takes pity on her best friend and says, "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Uhh-Why didn't you two date?"

"That's not where I was in my life. I was enjoying the freedom and experimentation…"

"Oh-I see…"

"Though before Aubrey, Chloe was the only person I considered changing that for…"

"What?"

"Yeah, Beca, Chloe is the only person who came close to taming the Hunter in college…"

"So why didn't you? I mean, Chloe's amazing."

Stacie shook her head. "She didn't want a long-term relationship. Her heart was, is with someone else."

"What-who?," Beca asks.

"Do you really have to ask, Becs?"

"No, I guess not."

"Besides, I am not a fan of being murdered in my sleep." Beca gives the taller woman a quizzical look, so Stacie elaborates. "Which you would have surely done if I started dating your Chlo."

"I-I-I-wouldn't…" Beca trails off as Stacie fixes her with a look. "Okay, maybe…" Stacie continues to stare at her, till Beca huffs, "Fine, yes, I would have." Beca crosses her arms. "Happy?"

Stacie smiles in victory. "Peachy." She then sits up and asks, "Now that you have come to terms with the idea that Chloe means more to you than just mere friendship, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't think I can do anything until I talk to Jesse," Beca says softly. "I really need to break it off with him." Beca looks at Stacie with a sad smile. "He's going to hate me. He is quite happy because he thinks I chose him when I ran out on Chloe singing at Karaoke."

"Forget about Jesse. It is your life and you have to make decisions based on what makes you happy."

"I have, but I need your help," Beca says solemnly.

"Well, you got my attention," Stacie says with a sly grin.

o0o

Looking in the mirror, Chloe thinks about how she wants to do her makeup. She always starts with her eyes, they being her best feature. She decides on a color that brings out her eyes, but is a little understated. She really doesn't feel like going out, so she doesn't want to do the full makeover this evening.

This is not the typical for her. Usually, getting ready with the Bellas is its own adventure. All the Bellas, save for Emily, are confident women, secure in their appearance. Chloe knows Emily will get there someday, when she realizes just how beautiful she is. Yet she hopes her younger friend retains some of her innocence. Loss of innocence comes from experiencing the ups and downs of life. Chloe wishes she still had some innocence, having experienced a few to many downs recently.

Chloe wonders about the need each Bella has to make sure their look is in consideration as the best within their little group. How it's kind of an unofficial contest amongst the Bellas. With the likes of Stacie and Aubrey around, Chloe has always had to bring her 'A' game; but tonight she's just not feeling it.

What Chloe is feeling is a bit of tension, okay, maybe a lot of tension. She needs to relax. She pulls out her phone, deciding to play some fun, upbeat music. Music always helps her to relax. She, of course, has all sorts of different playlists for different moods - all created by Beca over the years. Which might not be the best for not thinking about her tiny DJ, or getting over a broken heart, but music is always a panacea for her. She scrolls through her phone, looking for one titled 'Paint the town red!' It's one of her favorite playlists for getting ready for a night on the town. She finds it and hits play. She closes her eyes and lets the music wash over her. The first up is Kygo's 'First Time' featuring Ellie Goulding. It's soft and tender, and helps her relax.

She starts swaying to the music as she takes a few swipes at her lashes with the mascara. Chloe needs to look good this evening since they are all going to Fat Amy's Stag and Hen Ball, and she doesn't want to answer any questions about how she's feeling.

Maybe, if she looks like she's ready to party, and having fun, she can avoid any awkward conversations.

Chloe has contemplated for the entire day whether she'd be up for going to this event or not. She had seesawed back and forth, most often on the side of not going. Usually she would be overly excited to go to a gala event; but tonight her heart just isn't in it.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's words the other day in the music room though ring in her head. The grandmotherly woman had been so sure of Beca's love for Chloe, and effusive in her praise, Chloe couldn't help but feel the confidence. Time and continued silence from Beca had tempered her hope. Yet there was still enough, she had decided that it would be fine to go; beneficial even.

She finishes touching up her makeup and did one more once over in the mirror. Her quick appraisal was that she looks good. She shuts down the music, puts her phone in her clutch, and heads to the living room.

Stacie, the only person besides Chloe who's ready to go, lounges on the couch as she waits for Aubrey and Emily to finish getting ready. Stacie is a knockout as usual, dressed in a little blue cocktail dress that comes down to just above her mid thigh. It has an extremely tight fit and is cut super low in front to show-off the maximum cleavage.

Maybe in another time, Chloe would feel jealous at how effortless it seems to be for Stacie to look so incredible, but not tonight. Tonight she's content to look good, but has no need to shine. Feeling content enough with her outfit and makeup, Chloe lets out a sigh. She regrets it immediately.

"What's up, Red?"

"Nothing," Chloe answers quickly. Stacie raises an eyebrow in query. Chloe rolls her eyes, "I don't want to go through any 'what-ifs' tonight. Tonight is about going out, celebrating a friend, and having fun. And, to that end, I must say you look quite sexy tonight."

"And you're looking equally sexy, Red," Stacie replies, noting the sexy shimmering red dress Chloe is wearing. It compliments her coloring and really highlights her hair. Its skirt is cut perfectly for her figure, just long enough to be tasteful, but short enough to really show-off her legs.

"Thanks, Stace. I might look it, but I don't feel it," Chloe answers honestly.

"Red…" Stacie starts. The brunette knows things that might help Chloe relax, or feel better even, but she promised Beca she would keep the DJ's secret. She walks a fine line. "You look beautiful and I think you will have a great time. Just be open to having a good time, okay."

Chloe hears the message her friend is saying, but it's hard to fully accept. There are so many questions running through her mind. Would Beca be at the Stag and Hen? Were they still friends? Would Beca forgive her? All questions swirling around her mind. Yet she isn't really up for discussing this now, so she does what she's always done best, put on a natural mask. She smiles warmly at Stacie, flashing her pearly whites. "You're right, Stace. Let's get this show on the road." The redhead stands to emphasize the point.

Stacie isn't fooled, but she knows Shortstack won't let her down so she let's it pass. "That's the spirit, Red."

Chloe catches a hint that she hasn't fooled Stacie, but her friend's response is enough to maintain the charade. For that she's thankful.

"Chloe, you look so beautiful tonight. Even more than you normally do."

Chloe is snapped out of her thoughts by Emily's compliment. Chloe blushes, partly for the compliment, partly because Emily has been so cute this past week. The younger Bella has been so worried for her, and supportive. If Aubrey is the older sister Chloe always wanted, Emily is the younger.

"You're one to talk, Legacy," Stacie declares at the younger Bella. "You clean up good." She's checking out Emily's outfit with a look of genuine appreciation on her face.

Embarrassed, Emily asks as cover, "Is it time to go?"

"I think we're all ready," says Aubrey as she walks in. She's wear a green dress that is almost exactly like Stacie's. Together they make quite the pair.

"You guys go ahead," Stacie tells Emily and Chloe. "Aubrey and I will catch up. We need to…" Stacie trails off, trying to find a good excuse.

"Sate the Hunter," offers Chloe.

"Oh, dear God," says Aubrey as she covers her face in embarrassment.

"Exactly," shouts Stacie excitedly as she points to Chloe.

"We're not skipping Amy's gala to 'sate the Hunter'," Aubrey says, doing air quotes.

"Fine," Stacie says with a bit of petulance. Chloe almost breaks into giggles as Stacie even crosses her arms. "We'll do it later."

Chloe notes that Aubrey doesn't disagree with the statement. She has to smile, she really is happy the affect Stacie is having on her longtime blonde friend.

Emily, still not quite comfortable with the sexual innuendos Stacie trades in, coughs uncomfortably, asking, "Are we ready to go?"

Aubrey answers quickly, she wouldn't mind changing the subject either, "Just waiting for the Uber."

"The Uber is outside," Stacie says looking at her phone.

"Then let's go, ladies!," Aubrey declares.

The women all chuckle and head out to grab the Uber.

They are all pretty excited; even Chloe to a certain extent. The Uber will be taking them on an hour-long drive to Beverly Hills. They are going to an upscale hotel that none of them could afford to stay at. Bumper and Fat Amy have rented out the hotel's ballroom along with its rooftop garden for their Stag and Hen Gala.

Considering the extravaganzas Fat Amy and Bumper have already put on, this night promises to be… spectacular.

o0o

The party is spectacular; both in look and feel. Ashley and Jessica have done a masterful job. The high-ceilinged ballroom is amazing, the set-up tastefully done.

Chloe has to admit she is quite impressed with how Ashley and Jessica have managed to navigate Fat Amy's many idiosyncrasies and come up with this elegant affair. The pair are quite talented Chloe is even more impressed when she considers how they have had to juggle the wishes and ideas of Fat Amy and Bumper.

She looks about the ballroom. The place is quite large and she is amazed at how filled it is due to so many guests in attendance. She recognizes a number of the people personally, some more from the show, and even some B-level celebrities.

All the Bellas, save for Beca, are there now. Even Alice and her 'Mean Girls' and a number of Treblemakers. Chloe can see that all the participants from the show have been invited; even the members of DSM. Chloe can see Kommissar and Pieter talking with a woman from one of the many Bravo reality shows.

Chloe can't help thinking, with Kommissar there, maybe it's a good thing Beca didn't show.

The party is spectacular, but Chloe is feeling done with it. She, Aubrey, Stacie, and Emily have been at the party for nearly an hour, their Uber having made great time.

Most of the people are already partaking of the refreshments, eating appetizers, and drinking what Chloe assumes is copious amounts of alcohol. She had picked up a champagne flute, but set it down two-thirds full, after a couple sips. In her mood, alcohol didn't seem the best of ideas.

Looking over to the back of the ballroom, she giggles. Several of the Treblemakers are up on a small stage singing; Unicycle and Donald leading the way. The boys still got it, and for a flash, she thinks it would be fun to grab the Bellas and show everyone how it's done. Chloe shakes her head no. Singing this evening just doesn't hold any appeal.

Yes, it's quite the gala event, but Chloe isn't really feeling the party though. Miserable might be an overstatement of what she's feeling, but it's close. Especially when it seems she's been abandoned by her friends who were all pulled away shortly after arriving. She doesn't blame them though. They should have fun, they shouldn't feel any obligation to her. They've all been more than supportive this week. So it's good they enjoy themselves tonight.

Just as it's okay that she doesn't feel like she should be partying.

Now it doesn't take being a genius like Stacie to realize why she feels so out of place. She hasn't heard from Beca in over a week. She assumes their friendship is at an end. She feels the hollowness of loss more distinct than she has all week, save for that moment she returned to their apartment last week. It's hard to celebrate anything when you lose something so precious to you.

For a time she had been buoyed by Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's words of encouragement. Now though, standing amidst so many people, she feels the loneliness of Beca's absence more poignantly. As Beca's silence has continued this week, Chloe's insecurities have grown and multiplied, and her resolve has faltered.

She only came to the gala, to show her support for Fat Amy. Now that she's met this obligation, she feels she can in good conscious, leave to go back to the apartment.

With that decision made, Chloe pulls out her mobile phone so she can order an Uber. Something catches her eye and causes her to pause.

It's a glimpse of a familiar person across the room.

Chloe does a double take. The woman looks like Beca; an awful lot like Beca.

The woman is in a stunning black dress that shows off her body in just the right way. Yet It's hard to believe it's her tiny DJ. Beca never wears dresses. In fact, Chloe knows for a fact, Beca only owns one that Chloe basically forced the grumpy DJ to buy.

Chloe moves in the direction of the ballroom entrance, to get a better look at the woman currently standing at the double doors. Not only is the woman wearing a familiar black dress, but her hair is done in a signature Stacie style, down on the left side with gentle curls, up on the right side, and pinned back, showing off an ear with an impressive number of piercings.

After forcing her way through the ever growing crowd, Chloe finds herself standing approximately twenty feet from the woman, from Beca. It is Beca.

Beca in a sexy black dress. A dress Chloe does recognize. It is the one Chloe had convinced Beca to buy, though she never got to see Beca wearing it. She hadn't realized what a tragedy that truly was.

Chloe can't help but stare at the brunette. The black dress is perfect on her, just as Chloe thought it would be, when they bought it. Chloe loves the way it falls from her hips, highlighting Beca's curves perfectly. She likes the way it's tight on the brunette's chest, creating just the right amount of cleavage. It makes her look sultry but not enough to make her look cheap.

To complete the sexy look, the dress has a slit up the side showing off Beca's legs. Somehow this feature of the dress, paired with the sleek black heels, gives the impression Beca's legs go on for days.

Chloe is rendered speechless by the sight of the beautiful brunette, not just because she's made up like never before, or she's wearing the sexy black dress that hugs her curves in all the right ways, but because Beca is looking straight at her. Chloe is sure she's never seen Beca look so beautiful, until the brunette smiles at her, and then she's sure she is seeing Beca at her most beautiful. The smile lights up her whole face. It's the smile that Chloe has only seen a few times and relishes the memory of every one of them.

It takes every ounce of her self-control to not shout for joy and sprint to Beca.

Chloe's mouth suddenly goes dry when she realizes Beca has started to make her way towards her. Beca takes slow steady steps, maneuvering around the myriad of people standing between her and Chloe. The redhead watches with a mix of emotions as Beca gets closer, their eyes never leaving each other.

Chloe's breathing becomes uneven as her mind races. Will Beca come to her and pretend like nothing happened? Is she going to apologize for not calling the past week? Chloe is so nervous and so unsure of what to expect when Beca finally reaches her.

The petite brunette makes her way around the last few people between them and stops just a few feet away from Chloe. Both women seem to hesitate in that moment.

Beca takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the redhead with a false sense of confidence. She hadn't taken her eyes off Chloe as she made her way across the room. Chloe's face shows some fear and trepidation, and it causes the DJ to worry. Has she caused too much damage to their relationship? To their friendship?

Beca looks down for a moment, knowing that she's the one who put that look on Chloe's face. She is suddenly unsure of what to say to Chloe. Beca's confidence falters. She looks up and now sees worry, concern, and a hint of hope in Chloe's eyes. It spurs her to continue moving. The petite brunette cautiously closes the distance between herself and Chloe.

Beca sees Chloe take a small breath, as she reaches the redhead, and hears her say, "Beca, I'm so sor..." Beca doesn't allow Chloe to finish her apology. In Beca's mind Chloe doesn't have anything to apologize for. So Beca cuts her words off by wrapping her arms around the redhead in a decidedly more than friendly hug. She whispers into Chloe's neck, "I'm so sorry, Chlo."

Chloe is shocked at this turn of events. Beca doesn't initiate hugs; not really. And when she does, they are brief and fleeting; always leaving Chloe wanting more. This is not the case now. Beca not only initiated this hug, but is also maintaining it, which Chloe happily returns.

Their meeting seems almost private. It is very personal. It doesn't matter that they are in a crowded ballroom.

Chloe pulls back from the hug. She stares at Beca and Beca stares back at her.

"Beca, you look so beautiful…"

Chloe doesn't finish the sentence, because Beca has gently placed both her hands along Chloe's jawline, tilts her head up, and kisses the shocked redhead.

o0o

A/N: That seems a good place to end it. Until next chapter, which will definitely be interesting.