Strangers in the Night

A Pitch Perfect Story

Chapter 2: Exchanging Glances

Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.

Author's Note: Chapter 2! The title comes from the first line of Strangers in the Night. Enjoy. Ramona White is one of my author-created characters. She will not have a huge place in the story, but she does help Beca and Jesse to meet.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Ramona White was a pop-country hopeful. With her twangy Oakie accent, she told Beca that she wanted to be the next Taylor Swift as they sat at a table and sipped their drinks in the bar-restaurant combo in the first floor of the hotel where Ramona was staying in. Except, she wasn't the blonde, blue-eyed Pennsylvania-born turned Nashville native pop-country singer. She was short, with frizzy black hair, thick-rimmed glasses, carried about thirty pounds of something extra around her middle, and a hook of a nose with a mole on the tip that reminded Beca of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz. Ramona had the voice of an angel, though, and she wrote stellar songs, which is why Luke had assigned Beca the task to meet with the Oklahoma girl at her hotel after he listened to one of the CDs that she had sent in the mail to Wharton Records.

Beca had to hold back her laughter when she first saw the awkward looking girl walk into the lounge, wearing a pair of jean shorts, cowboy boots, and a plaid button-up that was unbuttoned over a white tank top. Her frizzy hair was in a knot on the back of her head, and she pushed her glasses further up her nose as she glanced around the lounge for the assistant producer at Wharton Records. Beca had been sitting at a table, waiting for the arrival of the potential client, going over the pitch in her head. They knew that Ramona had probably sent out a bunch of CDs to a bunch of recording companies in LA, New York City, Nashville, et cetera, and the second that Luke heard the music, he contacted her, set her up in a swanky hotel, and sent his "best man" to acquire the nineteen year old girl to their label. Luke knew talent when he heard it, and he wanted Ramona. Beca knew success when she saw it, and right now, looking at this awkward teenager, she didn't see it. Yeah, Ramona could sing, but her appearance left a lot to be desired. The nose, mole and all, the glasses, and the frizzy hair—none of that would sell, unfortunately; people in this business would destroy Ramona before she even got the chance to start. Beca discreetly raised her phone and snapped a picture of the girl, texting it to Luke. Within thirty seconds, Luke texted back two words: fix it. Well, shit. How in the hell was she supposed to do that? She sighed. All of Chloe Beale's fashion expertise and the best makeup artist and hair stylist in the world, also known as Aubrey Posen-Martin, wouldn't be able to salvage something from this. Right? She sent the picture of the girl to both Aubrey and Chloe with only one word to caption it: help? Within a minute, she received a text from both of them, saying that they could make an attempt and that there was probably something to work with. Beca nodded her head. Time to get to work.

She stood up, waving the confused girl over to her. "Miss White?" The girl looked Beca up and down, her brow furrowing momentarily in confusion as she took in Beca's appearance. Beca knew that she didn't look like what people would expect of a producer: she had earrings lining the entire length of both of her ears, including two spiky gauges (small ones—she wasn't into having two holes the size of dimes in her earlobes like some people); her eyes were lined with heavy, dark eye makeup; she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black tank top, showing off many of her six tattoos; she also sported a pair of black motorcycle boots (she didn't own a bike though). Her hair was in a messy ponytail on the back of her head, and there was a jack and coke on the table in front of her, along with opened folder, stuffed thick with a contract, color-coded charts of sales estimates, diagrams for album covers, a schedule of open times to get into the recording studio, and the list goes on. There was a reason why she was the best producer Luke had on the staff. She acquired the most talent, too, because she was prepared, good at what she did, and knew how to bullshit and ass-kiss with the best of them. Ramona made a hesitant step towards Beca, and then another. Soon enough, the frumpy teenager was standing in front of Beca, ringing her hands in front of her. Beca held her hand out to the girl, who took it limply in hers, shook it quickly twice, and then dropped it as if it burned her. Shit, not only did Beca have to work on this chick's look, but she'd also have to work on the girl's confidence and attitude (as in, she needed to develop one, along with a thick-skin) if she wanted to make it in this business. "I'm Beca Mitchell. I'm a producer at Wharton Records."

"Hi." The girl whispered. Beca sighed, because she totally had her work cut out for her.

"Take a seat." Beca waved to the chair opposite the one she had been sitting in. She sat down and took a sip of her drink, raising a hand to call a waiter over. She barely glanced at the kid, looking to Ramona for her drink order. "What'll it be?"

"Um, just a pop, please. Coke or Pepsi's fine." The waiter took Ramona's soda order. Beca smiled at the girl, who continued to look like she was trying not to throw up.

"Ramona, I know you're nervous about this meeting. I need you to understand something. You wouldn't be here if we didn't think you have a huge amount of talent and the ability to go far in this business. So, tell me a little bit more about your sound. Who are your favorite artists? What kind of music do you want to produce?"

So, Ramona started talking. She talked about her inspiration that came from Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, and a smattering of other female country singers. She talked about how she had her heartbroken by her high school sweetheart—the boy who inspired most of her songs. Apparently, he dumped her for a pretty girl that said she was Ramona's friend but really used her just to copy her homework. All of it was country music fodder, and Beca could definitely see the appeal of another young pop-country singer that sings about a broken heart from the high school boy that got away, just like Taylor Swift. Everything about this girl—minus her looks and her lack of self-confidence—could sell. Beca was going to do her damndest to sell this girl. Occasionally, the girl stopped to sip her drink and take a deep breath, her nerves gradually decreasing as time went on.

"Okay, so I'm going to give you some hard truth right now, Ramona. I'm telling you, because I like you and I want to prepare you for what's to come. I think we both know what I'm going to say." Beca watched as Ramona tensed. "You've got this amazing talent and a gift with words. You're gonna write some amazing songs and sell out a lot of albums, but you're going to be torn apart because of how you look. I like you. A lot. I think you're fun and fresh, but the music business is ninety-five percent looks and five percent talent, unfortunately. At least for women. It sucks. It's not fair. I wish there was something I could do to change it. I might look like I'm edgy and alternative and enjoy telling the world to kiss my ass—I am and I do—but it doesn't change the fact that I'm just sitting behind a soundboard, so I can get away with it. You can't, so we gotta fix this whole situation before we can really sell you." Beca waved her hand at Ramona. Her jaw twitched, and the brunette watched as tears filled the teen's eyes. Shit, she made the kid cry. Contrary to popular belief, Beca wasn't a heartless monster; she felt bad when she had to write "no" emails and letters to people who didn't get picked to possibly be the next big thing. She felt bad when she had to say shit like this to sweet kids like Ramona. "Seriously, Ramona, I don't mean to say this to you and make you feel bad about yourself. You're pretty awesome, but I would be a shitty producer if I didn't try to help you out and be honest."

"I understand," Ramona said, releasing a shuddering breath. She wiped at the corner of her left eye with her index finger shoved under her glasses. Beca frowned, making a mental note of what she needed to do for this girl. First, she had to make an appointment with an eye doctor—glasses can be cute, and if the girl didn't want to do contacts, then she needed better frames. Then, there was an appointment with Aubrey to see what they can do with the frizzy hair, bushy eyebrows, and the obvious lack of know-how when it comes to makeup. Following a lesson on proper hair maintenance and makeup application that would flatter Ramona's natural style (which Beca thought she should totally keep. It would make her more relatable to her teen audience), she would then need to be set up with Chloe. Chloe would help the girl find a flattering clothing style that makes the girl look good, unlike her current outfit, which didn't flatter her build at all.

Beca explained all of this to Ramona. She also went over the contract, the expected sales that would come from Ramona's first CD release (if the girl was willing to listen to Beca's advice), and all of the other documents she had in her folder. She also went over her plans about getting the girl new glasses (and contacts if she wanted them), free hair and makeup advice, and a free makeover with three new outfits, as well as advice over how to plan future clothing—all on Wharton's wallet. She wrote down her cell phone number, tucking it inside of the folder. "You take this folder, peruse everything, and then give me a call with your decision. I'm telling you that I'm the best that Wharton has, let alone any of the other record labels that you've sent your stuff out to. I'm telling you that we will take your career far, so I really hope that you give us a call that says you want to work with us." She handed the folder to the girl. She stood up, chugging the last of her drink. She shook Ramona's hand, and the girl disappeared, heading back upstairs to her room to decide.

Beca began texting Luke, waving her hand for another drink order. She was pretty sure she bagged the girl, but only time would tell. She also texted the girls, letting them know where she was. A waitress dropped off her drink, and she glanced up at her, smiling. She sipped her drink and glanced around the room, taking in her surroundings. She was waiting on Stacie, who was close by. Aubrey wasn't coming, but Chloe was planning on bringing Evan when they finished up their dinner. As Beca looked around the room, texting Chloe and Luke at the same time, she felt someone's eyes on her. She settled her gaze on a guy with messy dark hair and a scruffy face, dressed in pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, sipping a drink as he leaned against the bar. He was standing there with a couple of other people: a tall, slender Indian guy with thick-rimmed glasses with poufy black hair atop his head, a guy about his height with curly black hair and wearing a striped polo shirt over khakis, a short guy with light brown hair who was wearing a pair of sandals on his feet, and a skinny blonde girl that draped over the guy with the sandals. The rest of them were talking, amongst each other as they drank their drinks, but the guy was staring at her. She rolled her eyes into her drink, looking away from the guy. About two minutes later, Stacie strutted into the room, dressed in a hot pink dress that was skintight and barely covered anything more than her four favorite parts (ass, crotch, and boobs). She tossed her black hair over her shoulder, dropping her black clutch onto the table. On her feet were black pumps that made her legs seem to go on for miles. The hunter was on the prowl.

"Wassup, slut?" Beca asked, looking Stacie up and down.

"I just finished up a date." Stacie winked. She ran a hand through her hair. "Do I have sex hair?" Beca shook her head.

"You're so gross." She laughed at the dark-haired girl. Stacie just grinned, draping herself into the chair next to Beca, one that afforded her a great view of the entire room. She crossed her legs slowly and deliberately, oozing with sex appeal.

"Mmm, it looks like you have a fan, Becs." Stacie said, grabbing Beca's drink and taking a sip of it, her eyes locked onto the group of people by the bar. "He's pretty cute. Looks like he has good arms…the rest of him doesn't look too bad, too." Beca rolled her eyes.

"He's not staring at me. He's probably trying to see up your skirt."

"No, I know when a guy is checking me out, and he's definitely not checking me out. He can't tear his eyes away from you. I guess he likes the alt-girl." Stacie finished off Beca's drink and set the empty glass onto the table. Beca grimaced when Stacie referenced Aubrey's name for Beca when they first met. "I think that you might have found your victim. I bet the sex would be really good…ninety-one days from now."

"He looks like a nerd with a beard."

"Nerds are always kinky, Beca. Best kind of sex to have."

"I hate you." Beca muttered. "Not only are you annoying the shit out of me, but you also stole my drink."

"Well, I guess we will just have to walk over to the bar and get some new ones." Stacie grinned evilly at Beca, who shook her head. Beca raised a hand, but Stacie dove on her, shoving her scantily-clad ass in the tiny brunette's face as she held Beca's arms down.

"Get off of me!" Beca shouted into the muffled confines of Stacie's ass. She literally was nose to barely-covered butt cheek with Stacie. She started laughing uncontrollably when Stacie purposely shimmied so that her butt was being rubbed more firmly against Beca's face. The two of them were a mass of limbs and giggles, and that was how Chloe and Evan found them.

"I had a dream like this once." Evan said, chuckling. "You were with them, Chloe. Except for two things—it was in our bedroom, not a crowded hotel bar, and the three of you were naked while wrestling."

"Evan!" Chloe said, laughing, her head falling back so that her red curls fell down her back, clutching her stomach with one hand, and backhanding him in the gut with the other.

"Sounds like fun," Stacie said, popping up and readjusting herself to sit more firmly on Beca's hands. She glanced down and shoved her hands into her dress, tucking her breasts back into the places that she wanted them, not caring that every man in the room was probably staring at her.

"Oh, my god! I couldn't breathe! Your ass was pressed against my face." Beca said, tucking her head onto Stacie's shoulder. "I probably just got an STD. Please tell me you didn't have anal with the guy you fucked fifteen minutes ago." Stacie turned her head and winked at Beca, who groaned. "Where's Aubrey when you need her—I need to borrow her purse toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, and floss to disinfect my mouth."

"She's getting fucked right now…not anally, but in her vag…unprotected…all in the hopes that she will get pregnant, get fat, ruin my wedding, and then pop out a baby that will be covered in blood, that cottage cheese stuff that is always on babies when they're born, and her own urine and feces!" Chloe said, pressing a hand to her chest and trying to take calming breaths to relax herself over the idea of having her wedding ruined by Aubrey being fat.

"It's called vernix." Beca and Stacie said at the same time, making Chloe and Evan stare at them in confusion. "The cheesy stuff on babies is called vernix, which is basically hairy skin." Stacie finished. "How the fuck would you know the technical term?" She said, shifting to stare at Beca with a raised eyebrow.

"Sheila, the step-monster, is a gynecologist and an obstetrician." Evan looked at her blankly. "It means she went to med school to be both a vagina doctor and a baby doctor." He nodded his head.

"Gotcha."

"Why would you know the technical term for vernix, though?" Stacie asked again.

"Because both my mom and dad decided that she was the right one to explain the talk with me when I got my period the first time and became a 'woman.' Bitch went into specifics, telling me all about what menstruation is, all about the reproductive systems of men and women, how to keep myself clean and healthy down there, all of the different kinds of sex people can have—I mean all, as in men and men, women and women, and men and women—the signs to look out for when it comes to sexually transmitted diseases, and what happens during pregnancy and childbirth. It was the longest weekend of my life. I refused to go back to my dad's place for two months, because I couldn't get the images out of my head when she showed me the different pictures of people with STDs and the miracle of life videos that she gives to her patients. Aubrey's in for a rude awakening."

"Gross." Evan said, grimacing. He suddenly realized that Stacie was still sitting on Beca's lap (and hands). "Why are you sitting on Beca?"

"Oh, there's a hot, bearded nerd at the bar whose totes checking Beca out, but she refuses to go over to the bar, so I'm depriving her of alcohol until she agrees to not flag down a waiter but to actually walk over there and talk to him." Stacie grinned.

"A bearded nerd?" Evan laughed, dropping into the chair that Stacie had been sitting in before her attack on Beca, shaking his head. He studied the gaggle of people at the bar, spotting the guy in question as he commented on Stacie's labeling of the guy as a bearded nerd. "Sounds like a newly discovered animal species from the jungle." He slipped into his impression of Steve Irwin—a terrible Australian accent that sounded nothing like the deceased wildlife expert. "Crikey! I do believe we've spotted the bearded nerd by the watering hole. The bearded nerd is a pack animal, mingling with the four-eyed pompadour, the striped-curly nerd that is the bearded nerd's cousin, the pig-faced sandal toad, and the skinny blonde—all are herbivores, which makes them easy prey for the scary, ear-spiked, tattooed lioness who would tear their throats out without a moment's hesitation and the nearly-nekkid huntress whose weapon is yielded between her legs." The three women stared at Evan for a moment before they all broke into laughter. Chloe doubled over, resting her hands on her knees as she laughed so hard, her face turned the same color as her hair, and she started gasping for air. Stacie and Beca buried their faces into each other's necks as they laughed so hard that they cried hot tears against each other's skins.

"I have to pee!" Chloe said, rushing off to find the bathroom in the lobby of the hotel, barely able to form words or to walk straight due to her continued laughing.

"The jungle isn't in Australia," Beca said, shaking her head.

"There are rainforests in Australia…isn't that like the same thing as a jungle?" Stacie said. The two girls shrugged their shoulders. "Whatever. I need a drink, and the…what did you call him? The tall pompadour?" She asked Evan.

"The four-eyed pompadour."

"Right, the four-eyed pompadour looks about right to handle the weapon between this huntress's thighs." She stood up, holding a hand out for Beca. "C'mon. Time for the scary, ear-spiked, tattooed lioness to go tear out the throat of a certain herbivore."

"No way. I'm not going."

"Beca, you have to!" Stacie said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at the tiny brunette.

"I'm all for Beca not going over there, because that means that my fiancée won't partake in this stupid dare of not having sex with me for three months." Evan said, raising a hand to high five Beca, who returned it, grinning at him.

"But that means that the longer Beca waits to do this dare, the longer she will have to wait to have sex. We all know how much you like to have sex!" Stacie pointed a finger at Beca. "Almost as much as I do!"

"No one likes to have sex almost as much as you do. We'd all die from exhaustion." Beca said, shaking her head.

"Seriously, Beca. Do you really want to be abstinent for the rest of your life? You know that Aubrey's not going to let you out of this dare—she is going to harass you and harass you until you finally give in and participate in it. Plus, you know that you don't want her to win."

"Fuck…I don't want to go over there, Stacie. I feel like enough of a freak due to Aubrey talking me into this bullshit."

"Fine. Be a baby." Stacie said with narrowed eyes. "Evan, let's go get drinks for Chloe and the baby." Beca rolled her eyes, watching as the two of them walked off. A few minutes later, a still-chuckling Chloe dropped into the seat beside Beca.

"Hi," Chloe said, grabbing Beca's hand and interlacing her fingers with the brunette. Beca smiled at her older, redheaded friend.

"Hi. You're pretty tonight. How was dinner with the fella?" She asked her, and Chloe preened with her free hand, her blue eyes twinkling.

"It was fun. I'm glad he suggested it. I wouldn't let him out of bed all day, and finally he said that he was going to eat me—and not in the good way—if we didn't get up and get dressed. So, we went to the restaurant where we had our first date and ate all desserts and just enjoyed being together." Chloe smiled, squeezing Beca's hand. "It was fantastic and wonderful and amazing and special…I just love him, you know?" Beca rolled her eyes at her best friend.

"I know you do." She bit her lip, looking away from the redhead to glance as discreetly as she could at the guy by the bar. Yup…he was still staring, chuckling at something Evan was saying to the group of them as he and Stacie waited for their drinks to be prepared. Stacie was busy shoving her tongue down the throat of the dark-skinned guy with the glasses and the poufy hair while she waited.

"Oh! The bearded nerd is hot." Chloe breathed into Beca's ear, making the brunette jump guiltily at getting caught staring at the guy. She turned to look at the redhead, and she found herself pressed nose to nose with her friend.

"Personal space is a concept neither you nor Stacie know anything about, huh?" Beca said, shifting so that there was some more space between hers and Chloe's faces. The redhead rolled her eyes.

"Is he The One?"

"The One? You're making it sound like he's my soul mate or something."

"He might be! Is he the guy that you're going to satisfy the dare with? He's really cute. He's got that shaggy dog kind of look going on, but he looks muscular in all the right places."

"What are all the right places?" Beca asked, furrowing her brow at Chloe.

"Arms, stomach, chest, legs, and dick. Duh. Well, back, too, but I can't see his back, so I'm gonna just guess and say that is muscular, too." Beca rolled her eyes.

"A muscular dick? Is the dick a muscle?"

"I don't know. We should ask Stacie. She's the one studying to be an urologist."

"She does like learning about penises. I just don't want to hear all about the other stuff that urologists need to know about. Like pissing and kidneys and stuff." Beca grimaced.

"I know. Why didn't she just do gynecology, like a normal person."

"She doesn't like vag as much as she likes dick. Plus, she still gets to be up close and personal with a vagina when women have issues with peeing, so she can get her lady-bits fix when she needs it."

"Anyways, you should totally go out with him. Although, you might want to tell him to shave his face when you go out with him, because beards hurt. Unless you have a hairy bush, but you don't, so…"

"How would you know the state of my pubic hair growth? It's been several years since you've seen me fully naked…"

"You're telling me that you grew that shit out so that it looks like the hair on your head?"

"No…"

"Exactly."

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Anyways, you should totally go for him. He's hot."

"He screams nerd."

"How do you know?"

"Just look at him."

"I am, and he looks fine. Most definitely not like a nerd. His friends are total nerds, but he doesn't look that bad."

"Chloe," Beca sighed. "I don't want to do this."

"I said it last night, and I'll say it again. I know you're scared of getting hurt, but that doesn't mean you should give up on love completely. What is the worst thing that can happen?"

"I told Aubrey it is that he realizes that I'm not going to put out and then dumps me and solidifies my belief that relationships are stupid."

"That's not it. I don't think that scares you at all. If anything, I think that's what you're hoping for so that you can get away with trying to succeed at the bet without actually having to go through with it. No, I know what you're scared of. You're scared that you're going to find someone that you like, that you want to be with, and you fall for him. I think you're scared of what comes after this dare is over with—when it is just you and this man, and you have feelings for him. You're scared that things aren't going to work out, just like they didn't work out for your parents." Beca turned her head away from the redhead, discreetly reaching up to swipe at a tear that slipped from her eye.

"You and Aubrey are exceptions, because you guys have decent guys that actually care about you." Beca told her.

"We didn't always have those guys, though. We've dated our fair share of assholes before we found Evan and Josh. We both dealt with broken hearts and bruised egos. You were there for a few of them. If things don't work out, then we will be there to help you pick up the pieces, just like you were there for us. You're never going to know if you don't try. You might find someone really fantastic and treats you amazingly and makes you feel like the best person in the world. You might find the person you're supposed to spend your life with."

"I don't know if I want to."

"Look at what happened after your parents divorced, Beca. They're both really happy now. Dr. Mitchell married…the new Mrs.…well, she's also Dr. Mitchell. And, your mom married that other guy at her office. All four of them are fantastically happy and in love. You're parents were supposed to be together long enough to have you, and that is why they were married. It was fate. You were meant to be here, and when the time was right, they ended things and found the other person that they were supposed to spend their life with."

"Chloe, you're such an idiot." Beca rolled her eyes at the philosophical bullshit that her best friend was spouting.

"Whatever, Beca. I'm just saying that you should really give this a chance, okay?" Beca shook her head at the redhead before turning her head to glance at the bar (and the bearded nerd). "Is he still staring?"

"Shut up. I was just looking for Stacie and your fiancé to see where our drinks are." Beca said quickly, tearing her eyes away from the handsome stranger. A few minutes later, she found herself looking over at the bar, but the handsome stranger was gone. She heard someone clear their throat next to her, and she glanced up. Her eyebrows rose in shock when she realized that the handsome stranger was standing beside her, a beer bottle in his left hand and a glass of what she was hoping was a jack and coke.

"Hi," he said, smiling down at her. He held the drink towards her. "Your friend said you like to drink a jack and coke." He said, offering her the glass. She nodded her head, waving her hand slightly at Chloe, who had stood up and excused herself to 'find her fiancé.'

"I do." She said, taking the glass from him, trying to not drop it when she felt the tips of her fingers stroke along the tips of his. She quickly brought the glass to her lips, taking a big sip of the drink.

"M'name's Jesse." He said, extending his hand toward her. She stared at the hand for a moment before raising her hand to shake his.

"I'm Beca."