Earthquake. An earthquake has struck Barden University. Not a little one—a big, building-collapsing, person-squashing, at-least-a-seven-on-the-Richter-scale earthquake.
"Chloe! Wake up."
Wait.
Not an earthquake—Aubrey Posen.
"Mmmfff," Chloe groans, face buried in her pillow. She flings her arm aimlessly to her right, towards the source of the voice.
"Ow, hey!"
She's hit her target.
"Chloe, now." The shaking gets a little more vigorous.
She's also pissed her target off a bit.
"Okay, okay, I'm up," Chloe says, sitting up and stretching her arms behind her back. She peers up at Aubrey, who is standing over her with her arms crossed, still looking peeved. "What do you want?"
"Bellas auditions. In two hours," Aubrey says, tapping her watch for emphasis.
"They're today?!" Chloe exclaims, eyes widening. "Shit, I forgot!"
Aubrey shakes her head. "We've been waiting for this day for months, Chloe. Are you feeling okay?" Her annoyed expression morphs into one of concern.
"I'm fine," Chloe says defensively. Aubrey looks unconvinced. She sits on the edge of Chloe's bed.
"What happened last night?"
After stumbling haphazardly up the stairs of Baker hall, Chloe presses Beca against the wall of the hallway next to her dorm room door, sucking on the brunette's pulse point, settling her hands on her small waist. Beca's head lolls back and hits the wall with a soft thud, her eyes fluttering shut, one hand finding its way to tangle itself in Chloe's red waves.
"Let me just…" Beca gasps out, fumbling with her key in the lock of the door, opening it after a couple of tries. She pulls Chloe inside, kicking the door shut behind them with a definitive slam. Chloe allows herself to be pushed onto the daybed, pulling Beca down with her and kissing her with fervor, tongue stalking past the other girl's lips. She slips her hand under the hem of Beca's shirt, relishing in the gasp the cold of her hand elicits from the brunette. She brushes her thumb along the underside of Beca's bra as Beca trails kisses down to her collarbone, letting out a soft moan when she feels the other girl bite down gently. She's starting to lift Beca's shirt up her abdomen when she feels the brunette plant an open-mouth kiss in the dip between her collarbones. Suddenly, she's hit with a memory so forcefully it makes her stomach knot. At the strangled noise that arises from her throat, Beca ceases her actions and pulls back, looking at her.
"Chloe?" she says, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Are you okay?" Chloe tries to answer her, but her voice doesn't seem to be working, and instead tears well in her eyes and she shuts them angrily, swiping at the ones that escape. She tries to speak again, but all that comes out is something between a cough and a sob, and she feels Beca's fingers gently brush away the tears that are falling at a quickening rate.
"Hey," Beca says, sounding nervous, "what's wrong?"
After a shaky deep breath, Chloe is able to croak out, "Sorry." She feels Beca wrap her arms around her tentatively, and she squeezes back gratefully, burrowing her head in the crook of the brunette's neck. They lay in silence for a while, until Chloe's heart rate slows and her breathing evens out. She can feel Beca watching her, questions dancing behind her steel-blue eyes. She takes another breath and says again, "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," Beca says, but Chloe can tell she's waiting for an explanation.
"My… ex-girlfriend used to always kiss me here," she says, tapping her index finger on the spot between her collarbones. "It just brought up a lot of bad memories."
"I'm sorry," Beca says, her eyes so full of concern it makes Chloe's stomach twist.
"It's not your fault," Chloe says, and squeezes Beca's hand. "You had no way of knowing."
"Do you…" Beca starts, seeming to search for the right words, "Do you want to do this or…" She trails off again.
"I do," Chloe says, fixing her eyes on the ceiling. "I like you. A lot. This is a new, uh, issue for me. I don't know how to explain it to you. It doesn't even make sense to me."
Beca is quiet for a moment. "Can you try?" She shifts her position so she's looking at Chloe, with a look of such compassion Chloe has to close her eyes for a moment to get her bearings.
"Okay," she says, one hand toying with the hem of her shirt. She takes another steadying breath. "Her name was Haley. She had a lot of"—she pauses, considering her words—"issues. She wanted us to keep our relationship a secret, because her parents would freak if they found out she was gay." Beca nods, not saying anything, instead squeezing Chloe's hand encouragingly. "She wouldn't kiss me or hold my hand when we were around other people. Heck, she would barely speak to me."
"Then why didn't you break it off?" Beca asks, her tone one of curiosity, not criticism.
"When we were alone, she was so sweet. She would tell me about her plans for the future, about her friends back home, or dumb stuff, like something stupid some kid had said in class that day," Chloe says wistfully, then adds, "when she wasn't drunk." Beca looks at her questioningly.
"She had a habit of showing up at my place when she had had a few too many to drink," Chloe explains, feeling tears prick at her eyes again. "She would get drunk, and we would sleep together, and then she'd leave." She's crying again, and Beca reaches over to her nightstand and presses a box of tissues into Chloe's hands.
"She did this often?" Beca asks, her frown deepening when Chloe nods. "And you let her?"
"She was broken," Chloe says, sniffling between words. "I wanted to make her feel loved. I know it sounds stupid, but I loved her." At this, Beca smiles.
"You can't save 'em all, Chlo," she says, running a soothing hand through Chloe's hair.
"She told me she loved me," Chloe says in a voice so small Beca has to strain to hear. "And then when we woke up the next morning, she took it back."
"Oh, Chloe," Beca says, hugging her fiercely, "I'm so sorry."
"Thanks." Chloe nuzzles in cloer to Beca, breathing in the fruity scent of her shampoo. "I'm sorry, too."
"For what?"
"Freaking out on you. You must think I'm pretty fucked up," Chloe says. Suddenly, Beca sits up, looking into Chloe's eyes.
"You're not fucked up. And you don't ever have to apologize," she says forcefully. Chloe sighs and shakes her head, wiping away a few stray tears.
"We barely even know each other and you're being so nice to me," she says, eyebrows knit together. "Why?"
"Because," Beca says, shrugging, "Sometimes those who try to fix others are the most broken of us all."
"Nothing," Chloe says, looking away. "Nothing happened last night." Aubrey looks at her skeptically, but nods once and exits the room.
When Beca shows up to the auditions, Chloe's shocked. And when Beca starts tapping that plastic cup and singing in perfect time with it, she's absolutely floored. The fact that Beca's wearing an obnoxiously low-cut shirt didn't hurt, either. Strangely, Aubrey doesn't look impressed—she looks like she's just taken a whiff of something rancid. The second Tommy announces auditions are finally over, the blond swipes her papers into her arms and huffs out of the auditorium, pausing only to ask Chloe, "Are you coming?"
"I'll catch up with you," Chloe says, hurriedly walking to the wings of the stage, where Beca was talking to one of the boys who had auditioned for the Treblemakers, looking annoyed.
"Hey," Chloe says, touching Beca on the arm. The brunette turns around, a relieved smile adorning her face.
"Chloe, hey," she says a little too enthusiastically, then turns to the boy with a mock-apologetic look on her face. "I have to talk to Chloe about something. I'll see you at the station, Jesse." The boy frowns, then nods, and, thankfully, leaves.
"Thank you," Beca breathes, facing Chloe once more.
"Who's that?" Chloe asks, watching the boy's retreating form.
"Jesse. He works at the radio station with me," Beca says, shaking her head. "He was asking me who would be easier to sleep with, Captain America or a great white shark, and wouldn't take 'I'm gay' as an answer." Chloe giggles.
"Your audition was amazing," she says, grinning at Beca's eye roll. "It was! I didn't expect you to come."
"Well, you made such a convincing argument," Beca says, trailing her eyes suggestively down Chloe's front and winking.
"Perv." Chloe laughs, and Beca snorts.
"Please. I saw you checking me out," she says, and Chloe shrugs.
"Just admiring the view." She queezes Beca's hand once. "Well, I have to go discuss with Aubrey who we're going to invite to join. But don't be surprised if I bust into your room tonight."
"I'll be expecting you," Beca says mock-seductively. "See ya."
Chloe returns to her apartment to find Aubrey pacing in the living room, looking like she has a million things to do but can't decide how or where to start, and there's tension creased between her eyebrows.
"Bree?" Chloe asks, tentatively taking a step towards the blond. "You okay?"
"Yep." Her tone is pinched and she sits down on the couch, glancing at the information sheets from the potential Bellas, then apparently changing her mind and standing again. The air is—in one word—strained.
"You sure?" Chloe approaches her friend and carefully rests and hand on her shoulder.
"Why did that—your—Beca come to auditions?" Aubrey sputters, looking slightly manic.
"I asked her to come," Chloe says, frowning. "Is there an issue?"
"Yes, there's an issue," Aubrey snaps. Chloe recoils, holding up her hands instinctively. Suddenly, Aubrey deflates and sinks back into the couch. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed."
"It's okay," Chloe says, sitting next to the blond and running a soothing hand down her back.
"I don't like how you come home from spending time with that girl," Aubrey says, looking at Chloe, her mouth drawn. "First I see her sneaking out of here and then you come home crying."
Chloe shakes her head. "It's not like that."
"Then how is it, Chloe? I'm worried about you." Aubrey sighs when she feels Chloe stiffen next to her.
"You have nothing to worry about. I can take care of myself," Chloe says, balling her hands into fists. "And I distinctly remember telling you this before."
"See? You always get defensive when I talk about her," Aubrey says, unable to keep her voice from rising.
"Because you're wrong," Chloe shouts, standing abruptly from the couch. "I shouldn't have to defend my relationships to you!"
"Relationships?" Aubrey barks out a short, hollow laughs. "I would hardly call your sleeping around a relationship." The second the words are out of her mouth, her eyes widen. Chloe pales, her mouth dropping open. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry—"
"No, no," Chloe cuts her off in an eerily calm voice. "Whatever."
"Chloe," Aubrey starts, but Chloe holds up her hand.
"Just let me know who you pick." She gestures to the papers on the coffee table, then turns on her heel and leaves the room. She storms down the hall to her room and shuts the door with a resounding slam.