Title: Pretend To Be Mine

Pairing: Donald/Stacie

Disclaimer: Pitch Perfect is NOT mine.

Author's Note: My sincere apologies for the extremely late update on this story. Don't worry though. It might take long for me to update my stories, but I promise I'll always finish them. Anyway, this chapter will start off on the aca-initiation night, and I've decided to make this chapter an angsty one. You won't like the route of it, but the idea won't be so bad. And it will most likely make sense. I'm not sure, and you're probably confused about this note… Read to find out, and REVIEW and let me know what you think. Ideas, opinions, comments, and flames are much appreciated. ;)

-Sux2budude

Chapter Six:

-DS-

…

"So, can I count on you to hold my hair back when I throw up?" Stacie asks one of the girls on the Barden Bella's, as she starts pouring herself some beer. When she doesn't get an answer, she glances over to find Cynthia, staring down her top at her cleavage. Stacie immediately feels uncomfortable, shifting and pulling up her top a little. She's used to guys staring at her rack because in her last ex-boyfriends words, "her rack is unbelievably amazing.". But she's never really caught a girl staring down her shirt before, so Stacie pretends to see something interesting by the bleachers and starts walking away. The initiation party was crowded with acapella groups, intermingling and getting acquainted with each other. She sees Beca, another girl on the Barden Bella's, talking to one of the Treble Makers. She sees Aubrey and Fat Amy talking and pointing at some of the partygoers. She sees a few other Barden Bella members, dancing and drinking, and grinding on other people. And then she sees Donald, talking with Kori, yet another Barden Bella member. She knows she's not in any place to get angry or anything, but she can't help but pull her top down a little bit, making sure that her cleavage was showing and leaving very little to the imagination, and then she's pushing her way towards him.

He looks up when she gets close enough, and Stacie resists the urge to smile triumphantly when his eyes drop to her chest, lingering there for a few moments until Kori pulls his arm a little to get his attention.

"Hi." Stacie smiles, trying to keep her anger in check, her eyes tearing away from where Kori was currently hugging Donald's arm.

Donald finally blinks, the hesitant look in his eyes evident as he looks away from her chest. "Hey." He says, and Stacie feels extremely relieved when he gently pulls his arm away from Kori. "I was just looking for you."

Stacie quirks an eyebrow at him. "Really? I thought you were just talking to Kori."

Donald shifts uncomfortably, glancing from Stacie to Kori, and back. "I was, but I was actually gonna come looking for you in a bit."

Stacie resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, you found me now, so… bye." With that, she turns away, quickly making her way back towards the bleachers.

"Stacie, wait!" Donald calls, running after her. He manages to grab her arm, pulling her to a stop before turning her around to face him. "I thought maybe we could hang out or something." He shrugs, his eyes filled with hope.

Stacie glances back to where Kori is still watching them like a hawk, and she doesn't know what came over her then. "Hang out? That's what friends do, Donald. And we're far from being friends."

He blinks confusedly at her, "What? Stacie, I—,"

"Why don't you just go with her, Donald?"

"Who?" he asks confusedly, and Stacie almost wants to smack him for playing stupid.

"Kori." Stacie emphasizes by pointing in Kori's direction. "She looks like she wants to be your friend. Go hang out with her." With that, Stacie turns away, hurrying towards the table containing all the booze. She grabs an entire bottle of Vodka, downing a quarter of it and reveling in the burning sensation of the alcohol as it runs down her throat. She turns quickly, her eyes meeting Donald's for a split second, and then she bumps into another Treble Maker. A guy with blonde dyed hair. She doesn't care that he's staring down her cleavage, and she doesn't stop him from getting too close to her. Her eyes go back to where Donald is still standing, watching her with a confused look on his face. She looks to his side, and Kori is there again, trying to pull him away. Stacie interprets that as the last straw, as she tears her eyes away from his, before she downs another quarter of the Vodka in her hand, and then she's moving to the music, not caring that the Treble Maker in front of her was grinding against her front, not caring that Donald looks confused and maybe even a bit hurt, and definitely not caring that the alcohol was starting to kick in.

She's dancing, enjoying the way the alcohol seems to lift her spirit, making her momentarily forget about Donald and Kori. The blonde guy in front of her introduces himself as Greg, and she smiles at him a little. She laughs when he does, and tries to act as if she's really listening to him, when in reality, she has no idea what he's talking about. All she knows, is that she wants to erase the feeling of dread spreading quickly across her chest as her eyes roam over the crowd of people. She doesn't realize it until she catches a glimpse of him being pulled away by Kori, but she was really trying to find him in the crowd. And imagine her anger when she sees Kori push Donald back against the wall of one of the school buildings and kisses him.

Stacie tears her eyes away again, this time trying hard to focus on what Greg was saying. After a full minute of trying to understand him, she gives up, choosing to even things out, and she kisses Greg. He's a little surprised at her actions, but she doesn't mind because she's surprised at her own actions too. She tries to focus on what Greg's lips feel like, but her mind won't stop drifting off to where the black-haired, dark-skinned, bespectacled Treble Maker is. After what felt like a lifetime but was actually just twenty-five seconds, Stacie pulls away, and immediately takes a long drag from her bottle of Vodka. When she glances in the spot where she last saw Donald and Kori kissing, they're no longer there, and Stacie feels the burn of the alcohol, scorching her, except this time, the burn is in her chest. Her lungs work hard to keep taking in and expelling air, and she ignores Greg, turning away and tipsily walks back towards the dorms. Her head and feet are aching among other parts of her that shouldn't be aching. She wants to play off the jealousy, anger, and disappointment that she feels, but it's hard to do that when he's all she can think about. As she continues on alone, she sees Beca and the other Treble Maker guy she saw at the auditions, making out by the school gate. She keeps walking, smiling over at Beca when she calls goodnight. "You too!" she calls back.

When she gets to her dorm room, her roommate isn't there, and she's thankful for that. She pulls her jeans off, followed by her top, before she slips into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Just as she's about to slip under the warm covers of her bed, she hears a quiet knock on her door. She freezes, staring at the door, and then there's another knock, this time a little louder than before. As she pads towards the door, she grabs up her roommates tennis racket, swinging it over her shoulder, before slowly unbolting the door, ready to smash whoever is at the door if it's not her roommate. The door swings open, revealing Donald, standing outside with his usually perfect hair, sticking out at odd angles, and the sweater he was wearing earlier at the party, now missing. "That was fast." She says bitterly.

He gives her a confused look, "What? What's with the racket?"

Stacie sighs heavily, rolling her eyes, leaning against the door frame and ignoring his first and second question. "What do you want?"

"I went back to the party to look for you, but you weren't there, so I came to make sure you made it safely back to your room."

Stacie can barely control her anger at him. "Well, I'm at room. You can leave now." She steps back, ready to slam the door in his face, but he wedges his foot through the door, stopping her.

"Did I do something wrong?" his voice is soft, almost pleading.

Stacie laughs at that, though she doesn't know what's so funny about it. "No, Donald."

"Then why are you like this?"

Her jaw clenches, "Why am I like what, Donald?"

"Like this. Angry and cold."

Before she could stop herself, everything comes spilling out in an angry, frustrated cry. "I'm like this because you're doing everything wrong! First you go and give me those stupid looks that makes me feel things that I shouldn't be feeling for someone like you, and then you turn around and do everything that makes me realize why I shouldn't feel anything for someone like you! You make feel so confused, that I think I'm really losing my mind, Donald! Is that what you want? Do want me to go crazy from trying to find an answer to something that doesn't really have a question?"

He's blinking at her like she's crazy, and he's clearly surprised by her outburst. He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair as he exhales heavily. "Stacie, you—," he pauses, this time rubbing his palm against his face. "I don't understand anything you're saying."

She really didn't think he was gonna say anything like that. She was expecting an explanation for his confusing behavior. "I thought we connected in a way that other people don't…" she tells him slowly. "I guess I thought wrong." With that, she steps away from the door, this time, he doesn't stop her as she closes the door. She turns, leaning against it for support, before slowly sliding down to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest, and burying her head in her hands as the tears start to fall.

It's the first time she's ever cried over a guy. She's had her fair share of crying during her other past relationships, but she's never really cried because of her feelings for a guy. This time, she cries because she feels too much for a guy who she shouldn't feel anything for.

-SD-

…

The next day goes by in a blur. Her mom visits her around one in the afternoon, and Stacie is quite thankful for the distraction. She lies yet again to her mom, telling her that Donald won't be joining them for dinner in the evening because he has a big test to study for. Dinner goes by easily, and Stacie feels relieved when it's over, thankful that her mom barely brought the subject of Donald up. The last thing she needs is to try to come up with a convincing story of what they did at the initiation party last night. Her mom drops her back off in the front of the school, bidding her goodnight. "Wish Donald good luck on his test." Her mom calls, and Stacie fakes a smile, nodding.

"I will, mom."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, mom."

Stacie waits for her mom to pull out of the school parking lot, and she continues to watch her mom's car until the taillights disappear completely into the distance. As she walks back towards her dorm room, she sees Beca, digging through the bushes at the gate.

"Are you looking for something?" she asks as she gets closer.

Beca jumps, whirling around, before sighing in relief. "You nearly scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry… Are you trying to find something?"

"Yeah." Beca nods, "I lost my bracelet last night… it's the only thing I have left from my mom."

"Oh… Uhhh, is she away or something?"

"Or something," Beca shrugs. "She passed away a few years ago."

Stacie pauses at that, "I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

"Well, would you like some help in finding your bracelet?"

Beca looks at her then, "Are you sure? I mean, weren't you on your way to someplace?"

"No, I actually just came back from having dinner with my mom."

"That's cool. You're lucky you still have a mom. I have to be stuck with my dad, who gives probably the worst advice a parent could give their kid."

Stacie laughs, as she stoops down and starts looking through the grass. "What am I looking for exactly?"

"Oh." Beca laughs. "It's a white gold bracelet with a little plaque on it with the name Melissa Larson on it."

Stacie nods, going back to digging through the grass, but then she pauses. "Wait. Is that your mom's name?"

Beca nods with a little smile. "Yeah."

Stacie blinks at her, "Your dad isn't by any chance an English Literature professor here, is he?"

Beca laughs then. "Yeah. That's him."

"So, I don't mean to be nosy or anything, but how come your last name is Mitchell and not Larson?"

Beca chuckles a bit as she gets up and rounds the bush to the other side. "On my birth certificate, my full name is Beca Mitchell-Larson. Mitchell is my mom's last name, and after she died, I guess I wanted to hold onto a part of her, so I took up her last name."

Stacie nods slowly. "My dad died a couple of years ago."

Beca looks up, giving her an apologetic look. "Sorry."

"Yeah… Cancer killed him."

At that, Beca gasps. "Cancer?... My mom died of cancer too."

Stacie's eyes widen a little. "Really?"

"Yeah… It was terrible watching her go through so much pain." Beca shakes her head.

Stacie goes silent then, her fingers still running through the cool grass as her mind drifts back to when her dad was still alive. She knew he was going through so much pain, but every time she was around, he played it off and tried to act as if he doesn't feel a thing. So she tried to stay away so he won't have to try so hard for her. She'd just visit him when he's asleep or when he's using his morphine's.

Stacie feels a cool metallic object under her fingers, and she squints at it a little as she picks the object up. "I think I found it." She says to Beca, who emerges from behind the bushes with a hopeful look. Beca lets out a sigh of relief, followed by a happy smile.

"Oh thank God. I thought I really lost it… Thank you so much."

Stacie smiles, handing the bracelet back to Beca, who takes it gratefully. "You're welcome… Though I must say that with what you and that one Treble guy were doing, I don't have to ask how it came off your wrist in the first place."

Beca laughs as she sticks the bracelet into the pocket of her jeans. "It's actually Kori's and Donald's fault."

Stacie freezes for a moment, giving Beca a confused look. "What?"

Beca nods, "Yeah. Kori kept trying to kiss the poor guy, even when he refused."

Stacie is even more confused then, gesturing for Beca to continue.

"So, Donald came over to us and asked us for some help. Jesse called the campus security to help Kori get back to her dorm room, and I kind of acted as Kori's leaning-post until the security got here."

"Wait… so Donald never took Kori to her room?"

Beca laughs, "I think he was kind of terrified that he was stuck with having to take Kori anywhere… and on top of that, the poor guy looked like he was trying to go meet someone."

"What do you mean?" Stacie asks as they begin to walk back towards their dorm rooms.

Beca shrugs, "He kept saying something about some girl and that he has to get back and see if she's still okay… I'm not sure, but I'd say that Donald must care for this mystery girl because he could've taken advantage of Kori while she was drunk off her ass, but he didn't."

They reach the front of the dorm, and Stacie stops there, telling Beca to go ahead and head inside. She needs to do something first. Beca gives her a confused look but doesn't question her.

-SD-

…

Stacie takes a deep breath as she slowly raises her hand and knocks quietly on Donald's door. She's been there many times before for their study sessions and tutoring, but she's never been so nervous to see him in all her life.

When the door finally opens, Stacie did not expect to see a half-naked girl, only wearing Donald's boxers and a training bra. "Hi." The girl greets sweetly.

Stacie immediately feels the bile rising quickly up the back of her throat, and she has to resist the urge to hurl. "I—I uhhh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's cool." The girl smiles widely, her eyes scanning over Stacie from head to toe. "Did you want to come in?"

Stacie glances over the girls blonde hair, seeing an empty bed that looks like it's been slept in already. "I—, No, thank you… Just tell Donald that I don't ever want to see him again."

"Why?." The girls says slowly, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"That's none of your damn business, blondie. You may be fucking him, but what goes on between me and Donald, stays between me and Donald!" Stacie quickly turns on her heels, leaving as quickly as she can. But before she can get very far, she sees him walking towards her from down the hall. She stops in her tracks, narrowing her eyes at him.

He stops when he sees her too, offering a tiny smile. "Hey." He mutters softly.

Stacie resists the urge to roll her eyes, but she continues forward, completely ignoring him.

Stacie!" she hears him calling her name, even following her as she descends the staircase. "I don't want to talk to you, Donald." She snaps harshly. "I don't have anything to say to you."

"Well I have something to say to you!" he says loudly, sharply.

She stops this time, turning to glare murderously at him. "What do you want, Donald?"

"I want to know why you're acting this way!"

Stacie freezes at that. She wants to scream at him and tell him that he has no right to ask her that because they aren't even dating... not for real, anyways, but... she can't. Instead of answering, she does what she always does in situations when she's stuck and there's nowhere to go. She runs. Not literally.

"Just... Just please, leave me alone, Donald. Go back to your girlfriend." she turns away, feeling her heart breaking little by little, the farther she gets from him.

He blinks confusedly at the back of her head as she walks away, and he's wondering what 'girlfriend' she's talking about. He wants to, but he doesn't go after her. He understands that she's not in the mood to talk about anything at the moment, so he just watches her walk away until she's gone.

...

When he gets to his room, Bonnie Allen, Bumper's older sister is sitting on his bed. "Hey, thanks for letting us stay in your room last night." she says gratefully.

Donald nods wordlessly.

He must look like he just saw someone die because the blonde-emotionless girl gave him a concerned look. "You okay?"

He heaves a sigh, plopping down on his desk chair. "Not really."

"Girl trouble?"

He shrugs, "Something like that."

"Oh, speaking of girls, some hot, tall brunette came by about twenty minutes ago, looking for you."

Donald's head snaps up at that, his eyes narrowing a little. "What?"

"Yeah. She said to tell you that she, and I quote, 'never wants to see you again', and when I asked her why, she practically told me to fuck off and that I, as your 'fuck-buddy' should just keep to my own business." Bonnie shrugs, leaning on her elbows.

Donald's eyes widen like saucers. "She what?!"

"Yeah," Bonnie laughs. "Rude, but... I can't believe that she would think that I'm sleeping with you."

Donald blinks rapidly, his mind racing. And then it hit him like a ton of bricks. "Holy shit, she thought I slept with you."

"Yep. I mean. You're definitely hot and stuff, and I'd totally bone you, but... you're not my type."

Donald practically shoots out of his desk chair, "She thinks I slept with you."

"I believe you just said that, and yes. I think that's what she was thinking when she saw me in your boxers... Oh, I borrowed your boxer by the way."

Donald groans loudly. "Fuck!" he paces around the room, his mind working a thousand miles per minute as he rubs his palm over his face. "I have to tell her the truth. I mean, you're hot too, but you're not my type either."

Bonnie laughs at that. "I know. You have a thing for brunettes."

"I have to go." Donald says suddenly, already hurrying to the door. "I'll see you later!" he calls over his shoulder, before taking off in a sprint down the hall.

He doesn't know what he'll say to her, or if she would even let him say anything at all, but he has to tell her that he's not seeing anyone, he doesn't have a girlfriend, he hasn't even slept or made out with anyone since he met her, and it's stressing the fuck out of him. But he does know for sure now that she feels something for him, otherwise she wouldn't have gotten mad and reacted the way she did. And he's totally going to call her out on it. He just needs to know that this thing that they have between them is a mutual feeling, and not just one-sided on his part.

He needs to know.

-DS-

...

Author's Note: Cliiiiiiiff Hanger, Hanging from a treeeeee! Okay, I'm totally sorry for the cliff hanger, but I didn't want to put all that amazing angsty confrontation in this one chapter. But I'll try to make the next one good. Anyway, REVIEWS are much appreciated. I'll be updating again shortly, so stay tuned for the next chapter.

-Sux2budude