A/N: Okay my lovelies, here is the next chapter. I am going to have to issue a major trigger warning for this chapter. Self-harm is a big part of this chapter. So if that is something that might trigger you, I wouldn't recommend reading this update. At least not the bottom half of Chloe's POV. I hope that you guys enjoy this update. Feel free to drop me a line on here or on tumblr.
Serious note: If you struggle with self-harm, please know that you are not alone. There are people out there that care about you. Even as cheesy as it may sound, I am one of those people. If you ever need to talk, drop me a line on tumblr. I spend pretty much all of my free time on there when I am not writing. So if you need a buddy, I will be there for you. My tumblr is blog/jeffrinamichelle
-Chapter 11-
You Shout it Out
~*~Chloe POV~*~
Chloe Beale doesn't get hangovers. Not normally at least.
There is a first time for everything. A pained groan leaves the redhead's mouth as the morning sun filters in through the bedroom window, assaulting her sensitive eyes. They are red-rimmed, a mixture of the copious amount of alcohol that she ingested last night, and quite possibly the tears that she once again shed because of a certain brunette haired DJ.
Chloe knows before her eyes even open that she isn't in her own bedroom. Panic immediately fills her as she cannot recall all of the events from last night. Well, she can remember part of the night, but everything after she slapped the smug look off of Beca's face is an undistinguishable blur.
The panic-stricken redhead finally musters enough courage to open her heavy lidded eyes. The sun filters into her half open lids, shooting pain through her bloodshot eyes.
Her mouth tastes like she drank at least a liter of vodka and licked the contents of an ashtray. Her throat feels like she gargled with razor blades before bed.
All in all, Chloe feels like complete and utter shit. Not a usual feeling for her. At least not physically.
Squinted eyes glance around the seemingly familiar room. Her alcohol fogged mind still slow on processing her surroundings.
It isn't until she hears the soft clearing of a throat that she realizes where she is.
She really should have known as soon as she woke up that she was at Cynthia's Rose's apartment. Over the years, the redhead has spent countless nights over at her friend's house.
Cynthia and her girlfriend Denise have been together since they were in high school. Their relationship was strong, but C.R. had a bit of a gambling problem. The severity of which let to multiple screaming matches and breakups over the years. They always found their way back to one another, even if it took some time.
Turning her sleep-addled head to the direction of the sound, Chloe barely manages to focus her blurry gaze on her friend's amused one.
"What's up drunk princess?" C.R. questions, an amused smile on her face, leaning against the door of her bedroom. "Nice of you to join the land of the living again."
"Ugggg" Chloe moans, hands reaching up to clutch at her aching head. "I feel like I got hit by a truck." The redhead rasps, voice huskily laced with sleep.
"Well you pretty much managed to drink all of the vodka that Pulse had on hand last night. That of course happened after you slapped the taste out of that tiny DJ's mouth."
Chloe clamps a hand over her mouth, horrified by her behavior. Regardless of how much Beca might have deserved the slap, Chloe wasn't one to resort to physical violence.
A sudden wave of nausea rolls through the redhead's stomach, bile rising in her throat to mix with the fermented taste of vodka. The redhead jumps up from the bed, swaying uneasily on her feet as the throbbing in her head renders her momentarily dizzy. As soon as she feels the vertigo pass, she bolts to the bathroom. Her head is barely over the commode before the meager contents of her stomach mix with the water in the bowl.
"Damn girl, you must've ingested your body weight in liquor last night." Chloe startles as C.R. comes up from behind her, relaxing when she feels her friend place a cool washrag on the back of her neck.
"I feel like shit." Chloe moans, her face pressed against the cool porcelain of the commode.
"You look like you feel awesome." C.R. laughs, Chloe's middle finger raised in her direction.
Another wave of nausea hits the redhead like a freight train, dry heaves rocking her slight frame.
When her queasy stomach settles down, Chloe pulls the washrag off of her neck to wipe her mouth. Tossing the soiled rag in the sink, the redhead's fatigued body slumps against the toilet. A satisfied groan leaves her mouth as the porcelain cools her heated flesh.
"Girl, you are giving a new meaning to the meaning of hugging the porcelain god."
"Shut up." Chloe groans. "Just leave me here to die."
"Who are you and what have to done with Chloe?" C.R. laughs, placing her hand comfortably on her friend's back. "I can't leave you here to die. You still have to go home and face the Aca-Nazi."
"Why do I have to…." Chloe lifts her head off of the toilet bowl, eyes widening in horror. "Fuck."
"Fuck is right. She has been calling for the last two hours."
"What time is it now?"
"It's ten."
Chloe groans. "Shit. She is going to kill me."
"Yeah. That is probably an understatement. You were supposed to pick up her parents last night."
"Don't remind me, C.R." Chloe groans, pulling her stiff body off of the bathroom floor. "I just want to die. Why won't you just let me die?"
"Because Red, if I let you die, then I will face the Aca-Nazi's wrath." C.R. takes a deep breath, wrapping an arm around Chloe's waist. "I love you dude, I really do. I just don't want Aubrey to kill me."
"Fine. Just avenge my death Cynthia Rose. Tell the world that I went out like a champ."
C.R. laughs. "Like a half-dead/hungover champ."
Chloe rolls her eyes, pulling away from C.R.'s grasp. "I hate you sometimes."
"No you don't Red. Chloe Beale is not capable of hatred. I mean you almost had me fooled with the way you slapped DJ half pint silly last night."
"Ugh….Can you not remind me about that? I just….grr…"
"Sorry Red. We should probably get you ready and take you home before Bree comes looking for you."
"Yeah. I guess. Can we get coffee before you drop me off? I can't handle Bree without a metric ton of caffeine in my system."
"Of course my dear. We have to go now because I do have to work today."
"Shit. Okay I am ready."
Chloe makes her way out of the bathroom, walking slowly over to the bed. Grabbing her phone off of the nightstand, she groans at the screen.
20 missed calls.
8 new text messages.
"Fuck."
Chloe takes a deep breath, swiping the screen unlocked. She opens the call log first, knowing that all of the missed calls are going to be from Aubrey. Thankfully, she didn't leave any voicemails. After getting her fill of seeing her best friend's name plastered all over her missed call log, Chloe opens up her text messages.
Bumble-Bree: (11:00 p.m.) Is everything okay Bug? I haven't heard from you in a while. Just wanted to make sure that you are okay.
Bumble-Bree: (11:15 p.m.) Okay Bug. I am really worried right now. Maybe you just can't hear your phone in the club.
Bumble-Bree: (11:30 p.m.) Chloe ELIZABETH Beale! Text me back.
Bumble-Bree: (11:45 p.m.) Are you kidding me right now Chloe? You promised me….I can't even.
Bumble-Bree: (01:10 a.m.) In case you care, Mom and Dad made it in safely. We are at home. You aren't.
Bumble-Bree: (02:00 a.m.) I guess that you aren't coming home tonight. Real nice Chlo.
Bumble-Bree: (08:00 a.m.) Mom and Dad would like to know if you want to go out with us for lunch at 11:30. I haven't heard from you so I don't even know if you are still alive.
Mama Posen: (08:05 a.m.) Hey Bug. I am sorry that you couldn't make it to pick us up last night. Bree said that you weren't feeling good. Just wanted to see if you wanted to join us for lunch. Love you honey.
Sighing, the redhead drops her phone on the bed. She turns to face C.R., a solemn look on her face.
"I really fucked up last night C.R."
"Yeah, you did girl. Aubrey has every right to be pissed."
Chloe groans. "I didn't mean to."
"Oh girl I know. Girls can make you do crazy things."
"Yeah."
"You ready to go face the music?"
"Not particularly."
"The longer you wait, the worse it's going to be."
"I know."
"Get your pants on Red. I'll take you home."
"Fine."
The redhead flops back down on the bed, grabbing her jeans off of the floor. She pulls the fabric over her legs, clasping the button. Running her fingers through her hair to loosen the tangles, Chloe lifts her body off of the bed. She grabs her phone, slipping it into her pocket as she leaves the bedroom.
Chloe always felt like she had an innate ability to be calm in the most stressful of situations. Growing up with her father and having a best friend like Aubrey made the redhead infallible when it came to stress.
So for the life of her, Chloe cannot figure out why she cannot shake the butterflies that are currently swirling in her queasy stomach. She has been sitting outside of her apartment, practically bouncing in the passenger seat of Cynthia Rose's car for the last twenty minutes. She has all but chewed her thumbnail down to the nail plate. C.R. is eyeing the redhead wearily, concern lacing her features.
"Just get it over with Chlo."
"Easier said than done."
"Sitting out here is not going to change the inevitable."
"Why do you have to always be the voice of reason?"
C.R. laughs. "It's what I do. Get your ass inside and face the music Red."
"Jesus. Alright."
"I'll call you later."
"If Bree doesn't kill me."
"She's not going to kill you. Maim you, probably."
"Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."
"You'll be fine."
Chloe finally musters the courage needed to open the passenger door. She throws up her hand in a halfhearted wave as Cynthia Rose pulls her car out of the parking lot.
It takes another ten minutes for Chloe to actually make her way up to the front door of the apartment. In a fleeting moment of cowardice, she contemplates how easy it would be to run the other way. As badly as Chloe wants to give in to that feeling, she knows that it will only make matters worse.
With the last ounce of courage that Chloe possesses, she digs her keys out of her jeans, pressing the cool metal into the lock of the door. Fumbling slightly due to the pounding in her head from her hangover, she manages to unlock the door.
Chloe stands awkwardly inside the front of the apartment, eyes downcast. Aubrey is seated on the living room couch, jaw clenched tightly in frustration. Her arms are crossed over her chest, in anger or protection, Chloe can't be sure. Chloe approaches her best friend carefully, hands up in surrender.
"Bree…" Chloe starts, mouth snapping shut as Aubrey holds a hand up in front of the redhead.
"Save it Chloe. You cannot possibly have an acceptable excuse for not doing the one thing that you promised me you would do."
"It is pretty obvious that didn't go as planned."
"Well." Chloe starts, sitting down on the living room table in front of Aubrey. "No. Beca was there and some words were exchanged. I got upset."
"I'm sorry Bree."
"I can't do shit with I'm sorry Chloe. Unless you have the ability to go back in time and pick my parents up like you promised, then we have a huge problem."
Aubrey stands up off the couch, pacing the space between the Chloe and the couch.
"Chloe, I asked you to do one thing for me. You made these plans to pick up my parents and then you just blew it off. All because you couldn't face being in the same room as your one night stand. The same one night stand that I warned you about. I told you that she was trouble, that she liked to sleep around. And yet you still went for it."
Chloe can feel her mind racing. The buzzing in her ears is drowning out Aubrey's rant.
-You always fuck up. Why can't you do anything right? You can't even keep a promise that you made to your best friend. What kind of friend are you?-
The voice in her head sounds suspiciously like her best friend. Chloe's eyes snap shut at the onslaught of emotion.
"I mean. Why do you do this to yourself Chloe? You are worth so much more. Yet you continuously put yourself in situations where you are going to be hurt. Where you are going to be used, undervalued."
-How much longer do you think that Aubrey is going to put up with you? You have been lucky that she has stuck by your side for as long as she has. She deserves better than you.-
Aubrey's gaze falls on her best friend. Chloe's jaw is clenched tightly, nails digging harshly into her palms.
"Why don't you understand how amazing you are? You deserve to be more than just a one night stand. Beca is a fool if she doesn't see that."
-Just look at the stress on her face. How much better off do you think that she would be if you weren't around? How much happier she would be if she didn't have to take care of the broken redhead.-
"I know that things have been tough since mama Beale died. That doesn't mean that you have to continue to be so self-destructive towards yourself. You're the only person that I have. Especially since I royally fucked things up with Stacie."
-There is really no reason for you to stick around anymore. You are only causing more pain. Just put everyone out of their misery and end it already. So they don't have to take care of you anymore.-
"I am so pissed at you right now. So, so mad Chloe. But you know that I will forgive you, I always do. I just don't know what has been going on with you lately. What's gotten into that pretty little head? I feel like you are slipping away from me Chlo Bug."
Aubrey tries to meet Chloe's eyes. The normal vibrant blues that shine brightly with life are a dull, glossy blue. Chloe's eyes stare back at Aubrey, completely non-responsive to the blonde's words.
-Just do it already. Stop making everyone else suffer because you are weak. Take the blade and press it as deeply as you can. Ignore the pain. If you feel pain, dig the metal in deeper. Everyone will be better off once you are gone.-
Aubrey stops her pacing, kneeling down in front of her best friend. Chloe's face is still frozen, now completely devoid of any emotion. Aubrey reaches out, grasping the redhead's hand.
The sudden touch seems to break Chloe out of her trance. Chloe's eyes narrow, taking in the concerned look in Aubrey's eyes.
The sudden rush of emotions is too much for Chloe to bear. She feels guilty for letting Aubrey down. She feels angry for the way that the blonde talked to her. But mostly she just feels incredibly sad. Sad and tired. Tired of being sad. Just done. She isn't sure how to reach out to Aubrey, to ask her for help. Right now she isn't sure that she wants to. After everything that Aubrey just said to her, Chloe isn't confident that her best friend would even be willing to help her. So Chloe channels all of her mixed-up emotions into the one thing that she feels comfortable with right at this very moment, rage. Wrenching her hand out of the blonde's, Chloe stands up so suddenly that Aubrey stumbles back into the couch. The surprised and hurt look in the blonde's eyes causing Chloe's pent-up anger to boil over.
"Just back the fuck off Aubrey!"
Chloe moves away from the blonde quickly, anger evident in her footfalls. She walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Aubrey wants to chase after Chloe. Deep down she knows that pushing Chloe when she is overly emotional will cause her to shut down completely. After five minutes of calming breaths, Aubrey has figured out that Chloe isn't going to come out of the bathroom. She knows that if she doesn't leave now, she will be late for lunch. Her father does not tolerate tardiness. With another lingering glance at the closed bathroom door, Aubrey makes her way out of the house.
Chloe sighs in relief as she hears the front door close.
Aubrey's words cut though Chloe's being, shattering the small amount of sanity that she was desperately trying to hold on to.
The absolute clarity in which Aubrey spoke her hurtful words make Chloe's already weak resolve to break.
She swore to herself that she was going to try and stop hurting herself. And she had been doing so well. Sure she still had her moments of weakness, but she was getting better.
-She left. Just like they always do. They stick around until they find out how fucked up you really are and they can't handle it. Finish what you start today.-
"STOP!"
Chloe tangles her fingers through her red locks, tugging them painfully. She takes a deep breath, trying to push back that nagging voice in the back of her head. She tugs her hair again as hard as she can, wincing at the stinging pain.
The pain on her scalp is refreshing but it is not enough to quell the overwhelming sense of nothingness coursing through the redhead's veins.
She knows what she has to do in order to gain back control. She knows that the desire will not fade until she gives in to the nagging voice in the back of her head.
Sucking in a deep breath, Chloe opens the medicine cabinet. She pulls out her small box of supplies. Pulling a towel out of the cabinet, Chloe places the items on the counter.
The redhead unbuttons her jeans, shimmying out of the tight denim. She folds the fabric neatly, placing it on top of the counter. Turning the tap of the sink on, she shifts the temperature to be as hot as possible.
Chloe sits down on the closed lid of the commode. Opening her box, she pulls out the necessary items. A shiny new razor blade that she placed in the box last week, plus an alcohol wipe.
Chloe tosses the small hand towel into the sink.
Pulling the blade off of the counter, the redhead rips open the alcohol wipe. She swipes the wet fabric over the blade, careful not to slice open her finger.
She takes the wipe and rubs it over her damaged skin. Tossing the wipe into the waste bin, Chloe grabs the hot towel out of the sink, wringing the excess water out of the fabric.
Taking a deep breath, Chloe presses the cool metal against her skin. A small whimper escapes her lips as the blade cuts through her scarred flesh.
The first cut is always a mixed bag for the redhead. She has never been able to get used to the pain of the first cut. It still hurts like a bitch as the sharp metal digs into her sensitive skin. The overwhelming relief of her pain pouring out with her blood makes the sharp sting worth it.
-Aubrey has finally given up on you. She can't handle being around a failure like you. You keep dragging her down with you. Slice into your worthless skin again, release Aubrey from the prison that you have locked her in.-
By the second cut, Chloe is almost in a trance like state, the only feeling is the overwhelming relief of being in control.
Chloe may not be able to control the way that her body looks, or the feeling of worthlessness that she can't seem to shake. But she is completely in control of how deep she cuts; of how much she makes herself bleed.
She turns her blade to the other thigh, cutting an identical mark into her flesh. The white hot heat of the metal digging into her skin causes a small moan to bubble up from her throat.
-Good job! Finally doing what is right for everybody. Press that blade harder into the skin.-
Having that one shred of control is the only thing that keeps Chloe grounded.
Breaking out of her reverie, Chloe turns her attention to the task at hand. She has made a deep cut on the inside of her thigh. The second cut is placed a few inches above the first one, although it is not nearly as deep. The third cut is placed on the opposite thigh.
-Press deeper. You are doing the right thing. You're almost there.-
Pressing the now hot metal deeper into the flesh, Chloe hisses out in a mixture of pain and relief. She can almost feel the sharp blade pressing into the muscle of her thigh.
Feeling the hot tears falling from her eyes, Chloe lets out a sob.
The formidable puddle of blood on the floor is startling. Chloe can feel the dizziness set in from the loss of blood, but she can't seem to make herself stop. The last thing that she remembers is the fourth cut that she places on her wrist.
~*~Beca POV~*~
Beca's first desire when she wakes up is to be dead. Her brain is throbbing painfully against her skull. The slivers of light filtering through her blinds feel like they are burning holes through her eyelids, sending searing pain through her retinas.
"Fuck." Beca's voice is rough, throat rubbed raw from lack of use mixed with intake of alcohol. She is pretty sure that she gargled with razorblades at some point in the night.
Reaching over to her nightstand, she blindly reaches for her phone. Grabbing the offending device, she lights up the screen to read the time. She groans as the bright light stings her sensitive eyes.
The time reflecting back at the brunette tell her the story that she already knew. She is really fucking late for work.
Like over two hours late. She is surprised that she doesn't have a ridiculous amount of missed calls from her boss, threatening her life or her job if she doesn't show up.
She does have two text messages from Amy and three texts and two missed calls from Stacie.
Opening her text messages, she squints at her phones stupid backlight.
Fat Amy not Patricia: (02:45 a.m.) Yo Deejay. Sorry that I wasn't able to make the show tonight. Bumper was feeling exceptionally frisky tonight and he couldn't resist my sexy, fat ass.
Fat Amy not Patricia: (02:58 a.m.) Little Beca BOO. Jesse told me that you got bitch slapped so hard by the Ginger that your boobs concaved. Is this true?
Stacie "Leggy" Conrad: (11:40 p.m.) Beca. Where are you? I need to talk to you.
Stacie "Leggy" Conrad: (11:45 p.m.) Becs, please. Call me.
Stacie "Leggy" Conrad: (05:30 a.m.) Hey Becs. It's Jesse. Stacie showed up at the bar after your set. She was an absolute mess. I took her to my house so that she wouldn't get into any trouble. Call her when you get up, she has been asking for you all night.
Beca pressing the call icon at the top of the text conversation, her phone dialing Stacie's number.
The phone immediately goes to voicemail, meaning that the phone is either dead or turned off.
Beca ends the call, worry seeping into her body.
Dropping the phone to her mattress with a groan, Beca pulls her aching body out of bed. She stumbles her way to the bathroom, intent on washing the sweaty grime clinging to her body.
Her thoughts wander back to the night before when she catches a glimpse of her swollen cheek in the mirror.
Beca staggers back slightly as a sharp pang of regret hits her body. She knows that she was a total dick to Chloe last night. Chloe may have known that Beca was only looking to hook up, but Beca was wrong in talking to her the way that she did.
Beca's chest clenches painfully as her mind replays the shattered look on the redhead's beautiful face. All because Beca was a complete coward.
She felt a deep connection with the redhead from the moment that she met her. Chloe's positive demeanor was infectious; filling Beca's weakened heart with joy.
Beca could barely admit that to herself, let alone telling another person. So instead, Beca chose to protect her heart the only way that she knew how; by pushing away anyone who could possibly care about her.
Beca grips the bathroom counter tightly, knuckles white as she feels the immense amount of self-loathing hit her like a freight train.
Breathing deeply to calm her jackhammering heart, Beca reaches in the pocket of the jeans that she was too lazy to take off last night. Her fingers close around the small plastic bag that she had delivered before she left work.
Pulling the bag out of her jeans, Beca eyes the contents warily.
She sighs in relief when she realizes that Uni hooked her up with her favorite drug of choice.
Tossing eight of the pills into her mouth, she turns the sink's tap on. Putting her mouth under the running water, Beca takes a gulp to aid in swallowing the pills.
Beca cuts the tap off. Making her way to the shower, she turns the water on. Stripping last night's clothes off, Beca steps under the warm spray of the shower, sighing in relief as the heat soothes her sore muscles.
Humming quietly, Beca scrubs shampoo into her wavy hair. She is so engrossed in her current task at hand that she doesn't notice Stacie walk into the bathroom. The taller brunette hops up on the bathroom counter. She takes a minute to take in the smooth humming coming from behind the curtain.
"Hey Becs?"
"Jesus!" The curtain flies open, Beca's wide eyes peeking out to meet her best friend's gaze. "What the fuck Stace?"
"Sorry babe, I wasn't trying to scare you."
"Well you totally failed that mission."
"I'm so sorry."
"Meh. So what are you doing here?"
"I live here…"
"Not what I meant asshole. Why are you in the bathroom with me?"
"Well you didn't call me, I got worried."
"Sorry dude. I meant to. I just woke up."
"What kind of shit did you get into last night? I am pretty sure that you are supposed to be at work by now."
"Yeah. I was actually supposed to be at work two hours ago. So that happened. Worst part of it all is, I don't even remember what happened last night. At least the majority of the night."
"Okay, so I sense that some girl talk is in order. So hurry up and get your cute ass out of the shower. I'll be in your bed."
Stacie hops down from the counter, making her way out of the bathroom.
"Bring snacks!" Beca yells from the shower before snapping the curtain closed. She quickly goes through the mundane routine of her shower. Before long, she is towel drying her body. Wrapping the towel around her lightly damp body, Beca makes her way back into her bedroom.
Digging through her dresser, she picks out a comfy pair of shorts and a tank top. She pulls on a pair of underwear and a bra before pulling the pajamas on over them. She runs the towel through her wet hair before tossing the towel into her hamper.
Beca barely has time to settle underneath the covers before Stacie is walking back into the room with a plethora of snacks in her arms. She is clad in a pair of shorts that were surely made for a toddler and a shirt that isn't much better. She has a bottle of what looks like tequila tucked under her arm, two shot glasses in-between her fingers. Placing the bottle and glasses on the nightstand, Stacie crawls underneath the covers next to Beca. Both brunettes side by side, backs up against the headboard.
Stacie hands Beca a bag of spicy nacho Doritos before turning her attention to the alcohol. She uncorks the bottle, pouring out two shots. Handing one to Beca, Stacie barely lifts her glass before tossing the glass back. She grimaces slightly as the tequila burns her throat. Beca looks over at the taller girl incredulously.
"Not that I haven't done this before, but is there a reason why we are drinking at eleven o'clock in the morning?"
"Shut the fuck up and take the shot Becs. We have a few more to go before we start this conversation."
Beca nods, tossing the shot down her throat. She coughs as she swallows, the tequila burning her already sensitive throat.
She barely has time to swallow all of the liquor before Stacie has poured them both another shot. This time, the taller brunette takes the time to clink her glass against Beca's, before tossing the alcohol back. Beca follows suit, only grimacing this time.
Five shots in has both girls loosened up immensely. Beca is starting to feel not only the alcohol, but the pills that she ingested before her shower. She is slightly worried because the last time that she was high with Stacie in her bed, they slept together. Not that she would be opposed to another round.
-Focus Mitchell!-
Beca shakes the fuzzy feeling from her head, turning her hips slightly to face her best friend. Stacie is currently dipping a spoon into a jar of Nutella, licking the hazelnut goodness from the utensil. Beca focuses on the way Stacie's tongue peeks out of her mouth to clean the metal of the spoon. Beca chokes back a groan, wishing that Stacie's tongue was occupied between her legs.
-Jesus Christ woman!-
Beca clears her throat, Stacie's eyes flitting over to the smaller girl.
"Hit me again bartender."
Stacie smiles, dropping the spoon back into the jar. She pours two shots, handing Beca her glass. Beca tosses the alcohol into her mouth, swallowing the drink swiftly.
"Okay Stace, shoot. You only eat Nutella by the spoonful when you are really upset. So, what happened?"
"Nope." Stacie remarks, bottom lip popping the 'p.' "You first. Jesse told me what happened…"
Beca sighs. "Okay well. I had a run-in with Chloe last night. I was drunk, she was drunk. Words were exchanged. I called her a clingy bitch and she slapped me. I was a total dick and I deserved it."
"I just don't understand Beca. Why you continue to deny yourself the chance at happiness. Chloe is a really nice girl. She could be really good for you."
Beca laughs sadly. "I'm no good for her. I'm broken. I will only hurt her. I already did."
"You'll never know if you don't try Becs."
"That is just it Stacie, I can't. I will only ruin her. I am not going to do that to her."
"You know that I will always support you Beca, but I really feel like you are making a huge mistake."
"Maybe if things were different Stace. It's not like I'm not attracted to Chloe. Jesus Christ, have you seen her? She's fucking gorgeous. I would love nothing more than to have her by my side. But I will not destroy that angel of a woman."
"Awww Becs, that is so fucking sweet."
"Shut up, dick." Beca tears into the Doritos, tossing a few into her mouth. She chews loudly before swallowing the crunchy goodness. "So, tell me Miss Conrad, how was your night?"
Stacie's eyes drop to the mattress, fingers digging into the plush comforter.
"Stace?"
Stacie's eyes lift back up to meet Beca's concerned gaze, green eyes glossy with unshed tears. The taller brunette grabs the half empty bottle of tequila, tipping the bottle to her lips. Taking a generous drink before setting the bottle back down.
Stacie smacks her lips, running her tongue across the front of her teeth.
"Okay. So my night started out pretty awesome. After Chloe decided she was done twat-blocking. She left to go to the club as you know. Well anyway. So I am not going to kiss and tell, I somehow feel like Aubrey wouldn't like that."
"S'fine. I can tell by the marks on your neck that you probably managed to diddle her a little."
"Oh, it definitely wasn't just a little bit of diddling."
"Dirty bird!"
Stacie laughs, snatching a chip out of Beca's bag. She sticks her tongue out at the brunette before chomping down on the chip.
"Shut up. Anyway. After everything was said and done, we took a nap. I guess that while we were taking a nap, she got a text message from one of her friends. Whoever Chloe went to Pulse with. Well she left the room to call the friend. I woke up after she left the bed. I heard the end of the conversation as I walked out of the bedroom."
Stacie sniffs softly, finger reaching up to rub at her eye. Dropping her hand, Beca looks on as a few tears slide down her best friend's cheeks. Beca reaches her hand up, cupping Stacie's cheek with her palm.
"Oh Stace. What happened?"
A small sob escapes Stacie's lips. Beca moves her hand, cupping the back of Stacie's neck. She pulls the taller girl into a tight hug, the taller girl pressing her face into Beca's neck. Stacie's hands immediately find purchase around Beca's waist, fingers interlocking behind her best friend's back. Beca feels the warm tears against her skin. She runs her hands down Stacie's back, softly scratching her nails against the rough fabric of Stacie's tank top.
Beca continues her comforting ministrations until Stacie's tears subside. After a few moments of silence, Stacie pulls out of the embrace. Reddened green eyes lift, small tears still leaking from the ducts.
"So" Stacie's voice is rough with emotion. "I caught the end of the conversation. Something about Chloe running into you at the bar. Apparently she got super wasted."
"So?"
"Well. She had promised Aubrey that she wouldn't drink last night. See, Aubrey's parents flew in for her birthday this weekend. They took a redeye and got in at like one this morning. Chloe was supposed to pick them up."
"Oh…fuck.."
"Yeah. So Aubrey was pissed. When she got off of the phone she was pretty close to freaking out. I told her that I would go with her to pick up her parents. You know…like kill two birds with one stone. Pick them up, and introduce them to the girl she is dating."
"Oh Stace, you didn't."
"Didn't what?"
"Okay. First, pour us a shot." Stacie complies, both girls drinking the alcohol quickly. "So. You are telling me that you not only offered to pick up Aubrey's parents with her, you also wanted her to introduce you as her girlfriend."
"Well not exactly."
"Well that is certainly what it seems like. You told a girl, that you wanted to meet her parents after finally convincing her to have sex with you. The same girl who has never, ever been with another woman before. A girl who is probably so fucking confused by what she is feeling right now. You are the first girl that she has been attracted to. At least enough to do something about it. So that right there is fucking terrifying. So she is finally getting comfortable with the idea of being with you. And then you tell her that you want to meet her parents and be introduced as the girl that she is dating. So you are taking this girl, who is more than likely freaking out over her sexuality and you are pushing her out of the closet. Do you not remember how terrifying coming out was? Even coming out to my mom, who is the most accepting woman on this planet, was enough to cause both of us to have panic attacks. Can you imagine how Aubrey feels, coming from a Southern, Christian upbringing?"
"Fuck…" Stacie's words trail off as a fresh batch of tears break free. Beca leans forward, pressing her fingers against Stacie's cheeks to wipe away the rogue tears. As Beca pulls away, Stacie surges forward. She presses her lips insistently against Beca's.
Beca's mind goes completely blank, lips frozen against Stacie's probing mouth. The smaller brunette feels a surge of arousal slam into her. Whether it is from the drugs and alcohol, or the brunette kissing her, she isn't sure. All she can taste is Stacie's lips, and she craves more. Opening her mouth slightly, she grants Stacie access to her mouth. Stacie's tongue slips into Beca's mouth, coaxing a moan out of her. Beca strokes Stacie's tongue with her own, tangling her fingers into the taller girl's hair to press their lips harder against each other's.
Stacie moans into Beca's mouth due to the smaller brunette's sharp tug on her wavy locks. A sharp gasp slips out as Stacie's hands trail up Beca's sides, stopping when the reach the smaller brunette's chest. Stacie squeezes the ample flesh, rolling already hardened nipples between her fingers. Beca breaks the kiss with a groan, head falling into the crook of Stacie's neck.
Beca presses her nose into Stacie's neck, breathing in the other girl's scent. She presses her lips softly against the soft flesh, causing the taller girl to pinch down on her nipples again.
"Stace…" Beca breathes against Stacie's neck, arousal heavy in her voice. "Stace, we need to stop."
"No we don't." Stacie's voice is husky, dripping with need.
"Yes we do. This isn't what you want."
"Yes it is. I want you."
"No Stacie, you don't. You are hurting. You want me to help you forget about the pain that Aubrey has caused you. And I can't do that. At least not in the way that you want."
"That's bullshit Beca and you know it. You love sex, I love sex….just make it stop for a little while."
Beca pulls her face out of Stacie's neck, leaning back slightly to meet Stacie's eyes. The taller brunette's eyes are wet with tears, cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol. Beca leans in, pressing a soft kiss against her best friend's forehead.
"Stacie. I love you and you know that I would do anything for you. But you don't want me. You want Aubrey. Aubrey hurt you in one of the worst ways possible. She called the night that you guys shared a mistake. I can't imagine the pain that you feel right now. But hooking up with me isn't going to help."
Stacie chokes back a sob, a fresh set of tears falling down her cheeks.
"I mean, it might make you feel better right now, but you will feel worse after. So you need to sack up. Give Aubrey some time to figure her shit out. Because she would have to be an idiot to let you go. She just needs to come to terms with her feelings."
"You're right. I'm sorry Becs."
Beca places a hand on Stacie's cheek. "Hey. Don't ever apologize for trying to make yourself feel better."
Stacie leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to Beca's lips.
"Thank you Beca."
"Dude. What are best friend's for? Besides some heavy petting and drunken make-outs."
Stacie laughs, manicured nails reaching up to wipe away her tears.
"Thanks. I'm going to go lay down in my room. I didn't sleep for shit last night."
"A few more hours of sleep sounds like an awesome plan. I might do the same. You are more than welcome to stay here with me if you want."
"Thanks but I don't think that is such a good idea right now."
Beca groans. "Things aren't going to be awkward, are they? For God sakes, we have hooked up before."
"No. That is totally not it. I don't trust myself to stay in here with you. You're right, I am hurting. When I am hurting, I have a tendency to drown my sorrows with sex. If I stay in here with you, I won't be able to keep my hands off of you."
"If you're sure."
"I'm positive Mitchell, unless you want this."
"Shut up." Beca laughs. "Get out of my bed Conrad."
"Fine. Don't say that I didn't offer."
Stacie pulls back the covers, standing up from the bed. She wobbles slightly as the full weight of her drunkenness hits her. Beca laughs lightly as Stacie stumbles out of her room.
Beca leans back, pressing her head against the headboard with a sigh. She feels the beginning of a pretty decent headache pounding through her skull. There is a sharp pain rippling across her abdomen, which doesn't surprise her after destroying the entire bag of Doritos.
Closing her eyes against the harsh morning light, Beca presses her fingers into her temples.
The next time Beca's eyes open, she has been asleep for two hours. She can feel sweat dripping down her body. Her chest feels tight, like she can't take a deep enough breath.
Beca scrambles quickly to her feet, a strong wave of nausea shooting through her body. She runs into her bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the commode. Lifting the lid, Beca's body decides to let her enjoy that bag of Doritos for a second time. The sharp chips scrape against her esophagus on the way up.
The third time Beca wakes up, she is still propped up against the toilet. Her mouth is incredibly dry and sore. Her vision feels really blurry. She presses her fingers against her eyes, rubbing the eyelid vigorously. Her vision is still blurry when she reopens her eyes.
She definitely feels off. Her chest is hurting her, her head is pounding and she is incredibly dizzy. She knows that she should probably go tell Stacie what is going on, but she doesn't want to hurt her best friend.
"Fuck." The brunette mutters quietly as another wave of nausea floods her body. Her body surges forward, dry heaves wracking her small body.
Beca stays hunched over the commode for what seems like ages before her heaving comes to a stop. Sweat is beading across her forehead, but she can't stop the shivers across her body.
"STACE!" Beca calls out, hoping that the taller brunette left her door open. She is pretty such that she will not be able to get to her feet right now; her body is feels extremely weak. "STACIE!"
Another shiver rips through Beca's small frame. "ANASTACIA CONRAD! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!"
Beca groans, her heart thumping painfully against her ribcage. She lays her head against the wall next to the commode, eyes slipping shut.
She isn't sure how long she has been slumped against the wall. Her eyes fly open in surprise when she feels a warm hand press against her forehead.
"Becs? What's wrong?"
"Ughhhh…Chest hurts, Nauseous, dizzy, cooolllllddd."
"Fuck…Beca." Stacie's warm hand cups Beca's chin, turning the girl's face to meet hers. "What did you take?"
"Nothin'…."
Stacie's grip on Beca's chin tightens, bordering on painful.
"Don't you fucking lie to me Rebecca. I know that you took something. What was it?"
"X…"
"Hot much did you take?"
"Eight pills."
"Eight fucking pills Beca! What the fuck! How long ago?"
"Right before I got in the shower."
"Jesus Christ! That is way too much for your tiny body to handle. That mixed with the alcohol…Beca."
Beca's body falls backwards, back slamming into the side of the tub. Her body slumps to the floor, completely unconscious. Stacie drops to the ground next to Beca. Grabbing the smaller brunette's shoulders, Stacie turns Beca on to her side.
"Don't you fucking die on me, you asshole. I'll be right back."
Stacie gets to her feet quickly, running out of the bathroom. She grabs Beca's phone off of her nightstand, typing in the code quickly. She opens the call log, dialing 911.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"Yes. My friend is experiencing symptoms of what seems to be a drug overdose."
"What is your address?"
"2025 Pinehurst Road."
"Okay. We have an ambulance in route. Can you stay on the phone with me until they get there?"
"Fine." Stacie feels her last bit of resolve crack, tears welling up in her eyes. She doesn't even try to fight them back, allowing them to flow down her cheeks in a steady stream. Her vision is slightly blurry as she makes her way back into the bathroom. Beca's phone falls to the ground forgotten as Stacie rushes to Beca's side.
The smaller brunette's body is tremoring violently with what Stacie believes is a seizure. There is a puddle underneath the brunette's mout. Stacie grabs the bath towel off of the shower rack. She balls the towel up, slipping the fabric under Beca's head. Sliding down to the floor, Stacie places her hands on either side of Beca's cheeks. Lifting her face slightly to keeps her from possibly drowning in the emesis. Stacie holds Beca's face firmly between her hands, tears streaming steadily down her face.
"Don't you dare do this to me Beca. I fucking need you."
A loud sob escapes the taller brunette's mouth, mostly in relief as the paramedics rush into the house.
-TBC-
A/N: I know that I am a dick for ending the chapter at this point, but I can't say that I am sorry. I hope that you guys enjoyed this update and I am sorry that it took me so long to write. I lost my mojo for a little while but I am back! So yeah. Now this next couple of weeks is going to be extremely busy for me. The husband and I are actually moving in a few days. So I may not be able to update for a while and for that I am sorry. Just don't lose hope. Stone Heart is my baby and I will not abandon this angsty fic. If you want to yell at me or feed me encouraging words, you can follow me or write to me on tumblr. If not, that's cool too.
Until next time beautiful people!