Thank you to everyone who read the previous chapter and to the wonderful people who left reviews. You have no idea how much it means to me.
Beca was tired. No, not even tired. Exhausted would be a better word. There was just so much talking, and hugging, and explaining to what felt like the whole junior class why she had returned. No, she hadn't been a teen mom. No, she wasn't sent off to juvie. Yes, New York was spectacular, with the lights and the energy. It felt almost like another world, illuminating the best parts of the human race. You could find passion everywhere you looked, from the celebrities belting out the highest notes on a Broadway stage to the young singer looking for spare change in the corners of the subway stations.
She swore she didn't remember half the people that recognized her. Their faces were a blur, and she didn't even attempt to remember their names. They all just kinda blended together in her mind. From cheerleaders calling out her name in the middle of the hallway, or prancing down to tell her they were excited to have her back to quiet guys in the library giving her soft smiles before returning to their books, it seemed like almost everyone knew who Beca was.
Barreling into her room and turning the volume of her computer to its maximum setting, Beca plopped down in her seat, her eyes glued to the sound program as the bar ticked across the screen to the beat. Suddenly, a shadow passed behind her, casting an absence of the glare on her computer screen. Whirling her chair around, her eyes met those of the intruder. Crossing her arms over her chest, Beca smiled.
"So what? You think you could just barge into my house now that we live so close? Go back to New York and find someone else to bother."
Luke tried to match the smirk on Beca's face, "Oh you know you want me here. Who else is going to protect you from the horrors of high school?" Beca's smirk turned upwards, letting out a little smile, "Well I don't know what you're talking about. Back in New York I did just fine."
Luke pulled up a stool next to her desk, pulling the headphones off her ears and onto his own. "I'm guessing this is your new mix?" Luke questioned, staring intensely at the screen. His fingers tapped along to the rhythm on the desk, mimicking each one of the down beats. Nodding, Beca looked up to see his reaction.
"You can do better." Luke commented, with a glint in his eyes. Beca responded by reaching out to gently push his shoulder.
"Oh, shut up. I know you love it. You never hate my mixes." Beca laughed. Luke kept up his act, his eyes dramatically opening wide in horror, "Why, Mitchell, do you think you know everything about me?"
"It's because I do." She said assuredly, leaning back in her chair and kicking her feet up onto her desk.
"Well that might be true," Luke confirmed, "but I don't know everything about you."
Beca's eyebrows rose, quizzically. "As a matter of fact," Luke continued, "I think it is part of your job description as my very best friend to explain to me something. Actually, not something...someone. My, Miss Mitchell, it seemed like you had quite a few gentlemen callers at school." Luke sat up straight, putting up his best posh, scholarly British imitation.
She let out a chuckle, ignoring his antics, "You are the weirdest person I have ever met." Nothing would stop Luke until he got some more information out of her.
"Well," Luke continued. "There was that one kid from Calc that couldn't stop staring at you. And there was that other guy that almost ran into a wall after trying to sneak a glance at you. Oh, and we can't forget that handsome guy at lunch. You know the one, I can see you blushing."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Beca tried to change the subject, returning her gaze back the computer screen. Luke wasn't having it though. "Oh, yes you do. I can see it in your eyes. You know the boy, the one with that ginger girl. Actually..." Luke stopped and averted his gaze from Beca and onto the pictures hanging on her wall, "The both of them look oddly similar to those children, right there, in this old picture. Ha! So you did know them!"
"One more word from you and I'll be sure to change my locks so you will never be able to waltz in here, pretending you own the place, ever again," Beca threatened. She knew her attempt to stop Luke was futile. He was ruthless, just like her. That was one of the reasons why he was her closest friend in New York; neither of them would take no for an answer.
Beca took one last glance at her mix before guiding the mouse to the save button, making sure none of her work was lost. Picking up the phone she had tossed onto her bed, she pulled herself up and began shoving Luke through her doorframe, closing the door behind them.
…..
Dr. Mitchell had never really liked Luke. His hair was too perfect, smile was too white. It looked like he had just stepped out from a magazine spread. Luke was older than Beca, even if it was just by a year. In New York, though, everyone grows up so much faster. Kids know how to navigate the subway by heart before they even get into high school. Teenagers roam the streets at night, going to hidden clubs and finding comfort in the back alleys that no one knew about. Dr. Mitchell was sure Luke was the one who dragged Beca to parties; Beca's mom said on occasion they would arrive back together a little tipsy. But that wasn't what Dr. Mitchell mainly hated about Luke.
He supported Beca, God did he support Beca. He took her to play her music in clubs, always making sure she stayed on track with her aspirations of becoming P. Diddy or Drake or whomever else was popular at the time. The thing was, he knew that being a producer wasn't a good career choice. Beca could be a music teacher, or really anything else, Dr. Mitchell didn't mind. He just didn't want his little girl running back home, broken, after a few years when her dreams were crushed in the big city.
Taking away the option of her getting hurt would mean he would never see Beca's passion stomped to the ground. He couldn't take away her computer, her phone, or her mixing board. Dr. Mitchell knew that if he did so, it would be the last straw. Beca would never talk to him again. He knew that if she lost her passion for music, there wouldn't be much left in Beca's life that made her happy. Luke was pretty much her only friend, a good friend, but still her only one. Beca didn't join clubs, play sports, or hang out at the mall like all the other seventeen year olds. Sometimes he just wished she would stop with her rebellious attitude and start to become prepared to face the real world, where ear spikes and tattoos would hinder job offerings. He just couldn't let her go into the world not knowing anything. She needed something to fall back on, something that could help bring her back up after her failure in the industry.
Dr. Mitchell had talked to Luke a few times, knowing fully well that he would probably be attending Barden University the following year. Though, Dr. Mitchell knew that Luke was just going there to please his parents. Yes, he had heard Luke and Beca talking about how after she graduated high school, they would run off to face Los Angeles together. Neither one of them cared about college, just about "paying their dues" and all that other talk.
Luke blindly accepted Dr. Mitchell's concerns. It looked like he was paying attention, but Dr. Mitchell could see how his eyes would glaze over when he spoke. That was why, when Luke and Beca came bouncing down the stairs, laughing, he could hardly look at them. Luke made her happy, Dr Mitchell already knew that. Luke made her smile when no one else could after Beca had to suffer through her parents' messy divorce. Luke was the one that was there for her when no one else was, but still, Dr. Mitchell resented him for being that person in Beca's life. Instead of talking to her father or mother about her problems, she would call Luke at two in the morning to vent about her issues. They would laugh together, cry together, and of course, make music together.
Dr. Mitchell sighed as he glanced over at the two teenagers. They were trying to push each other off the couch, arms flailing and laughs echoing in the open room. He knew he couldn't bear to get in the way of their friendship, in the way of his daughter's dreams that would ultimately lead to her defeat. Pulling out a stack full of papers he had to grade, Dr. Mitchell sat down and began to work late into the night.