A/N: Deep breaths...

The world and any sense of what she's doing with her life kind of drifts away from Beca after that phone call to Chloe, and she wanders aimlessly around the house, partly searching for Jesse, partly searching for somewhere she can collapse and curl up in the foetal position until she regains some sort of control of herself. Small, enclosed spaces have always been rather comforting to Beca… Perhaps because she's small herself and it makes her feel big. Whatever the reason, she always feels much more comfortable in them, be that under her duvet or an airing cupboard.

In the end Beca finds herself curled up in a walk-in pantry, of all places. It's cold and kind of dark (the light bulb is dying and keeps flickering), but it's the only place in the house that doesn't have people in it. Although a few people do wander in, she simply glares at them from the corner she's wedged in until they leave. For the most part, the shock of seeing a girl hiding in the back of a pantry hissing at them sends them stumbling straight back out.

She sits in the pantry for a good half an hour, maybe more – she doesn't check, and time is irrelevant when you're rocking back and forth and incoherently sobbing to yourself. It might be five minutes, for all she knows, but she feels like she's cried more in that five minutes than she has in her entire nineteen years of life.

The door suddenly opens and bangs against the brick wall opposite; Beca hunches over more, glowering at whoever has barged their way in, but when she realises who it is, her glare drops away to be replaced by an expression of surprise.

'Hey, isss Beca!' Stacie's lopsided grin and the obvious slur in her words give away her drunkenness. She props herself up against the wall with one hand, peering through the gloom at her fellow Bella.

'Stacie,' says Beca, shocked. 'What are you doing here?'

'I'm here for the party. I know Mark,' Stacie says, with a weird flicker of her eye that could be a wink, but might be her trying to get something out of it. Beca has no idea who Mark is, but assumes he owns the house or something. Stacie steps closer to Beca, neatly sidestepping a box near her feet only to nearly trip over one next to it. 'What're you doing down there shweetie?'

'Hiding,' she replies shortly, shrinking back just in case Stacie falls over and brings all the shelves down on her head. 'Go away, Stacie.'

'Really? Gonna join you if you don't mind. My feet are super painful from dancing and it looks super comfy down there,' Stacie complains, fiddling with the backs of her heels and rubbing at a slightly red patch where the strap is.

'Uh… yes? I do mind.' Stacie's not listening, though – instead she's flopping down next to Beca. She tries to stretch out her long legs, but the pantry is too narrow so she has to bend them to get comfortable. Unfortunately, this means Beca is less comfortable since Stacie's bare leg presses rather painfully into her own.

'It looked better before I sat down,' Stacie grumbles. She lets out a tired sigh, leaning her head back against a shelf of spices and closing her eyes. Beca tries to shift up into the corner to get some more room, but she's already shifted away too much and now has nowhere left to run. There is an exhausted Stacie flopped across the floor in between the door and her, and now she may never get out.

'Stacie,' she says coldly, 'I don't mean to be rude, but can you leave me the hell alone? I came in here for some privacy, not so you could follow me in here and set up camp as well.'

Stacie frowns at her, looking offended. 'Jesusss, Beca. That was pretty rude if you ask me! No need to be a bitch just 'cuz Chloe's getting some without you or whatever.'

In her heart Beca knows Stacie couldn't possibly know about Tom and Chloe, but the words still hurt. Beca rolls her head away to hide how much Stacie's blasé statement hit home. 'Whatever. Go away.'

'Nah. I'll stay here for a bit longer.' Stacie smoothes out one of the many wrinkles in her dress. 'You might go crazy and start murdering people if I leave you. I saw that in a movie once.'

'Stacie,' Beca says, practically whimpering as she leans her head in the corner created by the shelves and the wall, 'just leave…'

She can't see Stacie come closer, but she hears boxes falling off the wall and the rustle of material as she scoots nearer to Beca's crouched form. 'You crying, Bex?'

'No,' she snarls. 'I don't fucking cry.'

'Okay, non-crying Beca,' says Stacie blithely, 'you want a tissue for your invisible tears?'

After a moment, Beca sniffs. She whispers, 'Yeah, please.' A whole box is flung over Beca's shoulder into her lap. 'Where the hell did you get this from?' she wonders, deciding not to argue with fortune. Her face is getting kind of gross.

'It was on one of the shelves… Who keeps tissues in a pantry anyway? Mark's such a weirdo. Also there's all these paintings of dogs and birds on the walls. It's really creepy, I don't know him very well but I think he's a vet or owns a circus something.' Stacie keeps up a running, drunken commentary like this for a few minutes, allowing Beca time to wipe her eyes and blow her nose without feeling too self-conscious about it. 'I saw this guy out there with like the stupidest hair, too, he'd had a word shaved into it but his head was too small so it had to go onto two lines. So it just had like two letters on its own in the middle of his head. You good now by the way?' she adds on suddenly, her voice kind.

Beca swallows, her mouth dry from crying. 'Yeah. Thanks, Stacie.' She means it.

'Don't mention it.' Stacie yawns, bending her body so her legs curve past Beca and her shoulder is pressed into the wall, letting her head lean on Beca's back. She pays no attention to Beca suddenly stiffening. 'You're nice to lie on, you know,' she hums. 'You're all soft and stuff, even if you're like the size of my baby sister. She's twelve, by the way.'

'Stacie, get off, please…' Here we go again. She was just starting to think she might be able to deal with Stacie being in here with her.

'No way. I'm totally comfy.'

The door opens again; a dishevelled looking boy is standing there, gaping at the two of them in such a cozy (on Stacie's part) position.

'Sorry, occupied,' Stacie tells him, shooing him away. He blinks at them for a few moments, then grins and shuts the door on them.

Beca sighs and jerks her body forward, causing Stacie to nearly fall over and faceplant into the cold tiled floor.

'Wow, unnecessary!' Stacie huffs, sitting back upright again.

'I don't like being touched.'

'Oh yeah! I forgot,' says Stacie, remembering. 'You let Chloe touch you, though. I always found that weird.'

'Chloe's different…'

Except Chloe's not different at all, Beca remembers, feeling the bile rising up in her throat again. She has the ability to hurt Beca, just like everyone else does, and in the end she got tired of waiting around for Beca too.

'Well, sure.' Beca glances back over her shoulder; Stacie lets out another languid yawn, rolling her head on her shoulders. 'I'm not even really into girls but I'd totally let Chloe touch me anyway she wanted if she asked… You're lucky, Beca.'

Beca scoffs, turning back to the little corner she's wedged herself in. 'Yeah right.'

'No but really,' Stacie says, almost whining. 'Sex is awesome 'n' all, totally not giving that up any time soon… but I'd kill for someone to look at me like Chloe looks at you sometimes.' Stacie pauses, frowning at a box of cereal she just randomly picked up. 'I hate this shit, tastes like carpet and not in a good way,' she says, throwing it back before she effortlessly picks up the topic of the conversation again. Beca marvels at her ability for non sequiturs. 'And… how she looks at you when you guys think no one's looking, but really we all are because you're super fun to watch! It's like a movie or somethin'.'

'How does Chloe look at me?' Beca asks despite herself, immediately cursing her own curiosity.

'Weelll.' Stacie cocks her head, thinking about it. 'That depends. Sometimes she looks at you like you're a cute little puppy she wants to cuddle,' Stacie says. 'Or sometimes like you're a puppy that's crapped in her shoes but you're too cute to tell off. And sometimes she looks at you like you're naked or she's wishing you were. Sometimes all three.' Her face scrunches up in confusion. 'But in a cute, sexy kinda way, not like a naked puppy. That's bestiality.'

'Naked?' says Beca in disbelief, turning around fully to make sure Stacie isn't lying.

'Yep.' Stacie nods wisely, and says it again, enjoying the feel of the word in her mouth. 'Naked. She does it all the time.'

'Wow. Um. Really?' Beca can feel her face getting warm, and isn't sure it's just because the cupboard is so humid.

'Yep. It's pretty hot,' Stacie admits, letting some of her weight fall against Beca and pinning Beca's leg to the floor with her knee. 'I'm not that into girls, but… I don't know, something about you guys… Kind of a turn on.'

Beca lets out the breath she'd been holding without knowing it. 'Well, it doesn't really matter anymore,' she says finally. 'Chloe doesn't want me anymore.'

'What?' Stacie looks at her incredulously. 'Yeah she does.'

'Nope. She's with Tom.' Her fist clenches on her leg unconsciously; Stacie notices and pokes her fingers until she relaxes.

'What, like, dating? Or just sex?'

'No.' Beca draws her legs in (pulling it out from underneath Stacie's with difficulty) and wraps her arms around them. 'I don't know what they're doing together and I don't care.'

'Yeah you do,' Stacie points out bluntly. 'Or you wouldn't be sitting in a pantry.'

'Fuck off,' Beca snaps without thinking. The sudden wave of anger that passes through her dissipates as suddenly as it comes, and the next thing she knows she's sniffing back tears again, burying her face in her knees to hide them. Stacie pats her vaguely on the shoulder, a touch which she shrugs off.

'Don't cry, Beca,' she says. 'Or do cry, sometimes that helps. Whichever is better.'

'Can't you just leave me alone?'

Her voice is all weak and watery. God, she sounds so pathetic right now.

'No. If I left you alone and you jumped off a cliff or something, Chloe would kill me.'

'Chloe doesn't give a fuck about me.' The swear is relieving, even if the words aren't.

'That's not true,' Stacie replies patiently. 'She wants to fuck you. There's a difference.'

Despite herself, Beca laughs. She grabs another tissue and wipes ineffectually at her face; Stacie takes it off her, to her weak protests.

'You've got make up all over your face,' Stacie tells her gently. 'Let me handle this.'

Beca lets her, if only because she has no idea what disaster crying has left on her face. Stacie's touches are light and in a way, soothing; even if Beca can't imagine how much she's removing with a dry tissue and so little pressure, she decides to just shut her eyes and allow herself to relax for a few moments.

Hard to believe that only half an hour ago, she was speaking to Chloe, and things seemed to be going so well. She'd actually opened up for once, been brave and let Chloe in, and had it all thrown back in her face in a matter of seconds. And if Tom hadn't come out at that time, she might never have known she was there at all. Was Chloe ever planning to tell her? Would she just have lied to Beca's face and pretended she'd never thought about anyone else in the time they'd been apart, when she took Beca on dates and kissed her?

'Don't cry again, you'll make it worse,' Stacie murmurs to her. Beca obediently tightens her jaw, pressing her lips together in an effort to stop the tears coming. She concentrates on Stacie's movements, which seems to calm her somewhat since it gives her something outside of this whole situation to focus on.

Eventually, Stacie's dabbing slows to a stop. Beca opens her eyes to find Stacie staring at her, an odd expression on her face and the tissue hovering in mid-air an inch away from her cheek.

'What?' Beca asks, her voice a little husky. She coughs lightly to clear it.

'Nothing. You're done.' Stacie throws the tissue aside, where it lands haphazardly among the boxes and shelves for someone else to clean up - but she's still looking at Beca in that strange way. Searching her face. Blinking at her slowly. A tiny frown on her face.

In a way, it kind of reminds Beca of the way Chloe looked at her before she…

Oh no.

With a jolt of fear, Beca immediately sees how the rest of her time in this pantry is going to pan out. She knows where this is going, her mind knows where it's going and so does her body but neither is doing anything to stop it, simply paralysing her from her head to her feet. Feasibly she could throw off Stacie's leg right now, jump over her and run out of the pantry, but the realisation of what's going to happen saps the ability to move from her limbs.

Stacie's face is closer now, she knows that, can feel it from the way the air gets a little colder when Stacie sucks in a breath. Her voice drops into a lower register when she speaks. 'Hey, Beca?'

'Hngh?' is Beca's well thought out response.

Stacie's face drifts closer to Beca's, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused. 'Do you think…'

Beca desperately tries to summon some saliva into her mouth so she can speak, trying not to panic because Stacie's face is really close to hers, and shit, shit, fuck, what, what's happening…

'Mrh?' she says, just as eloquently as before.

Stacie leans even closer, if possible, so her nose nearly brushes Beca's. She pulls back, but Stacie follows, squinting at her in the dark. 'D'you think…'

'Stacie… what?'

She exhales and it washes over Beca's skin, the familiar smell of unidentified alcohol cold on her face. Beca bites her lip, breathing hard and fast and clenching her fists so hard her nails make half moon crescents in her palm.

Stacie asks, 'Do you think Donald wears boxers… or briefs?'

What?

'What?!'

Suddenly the pantry door breaks open, flooding it with light for a moment before a whole pile of boys falls through to the floor. Stacie and Beca watch, speechless as the one at the head of the pile lifts his head. Seeing the proximity of the girls in front of him, his face brightens like all his birthday wishes just came true at once.

'Lesbians!' he slurs gleefully, using the head of one of his friends as a way to help him to his knees. 'Kiss some more! This party is awesome!'

Stacie and Beca exchange look, sharing the same disgusted expression. Quickly, Beca jumps to her feet, pulling Stacie with her. The combination of blood rush and the alcohol still in Stacie's system makes her stumble, but Beca yanks her upright and through the door, making sure to step on every one of the boys on the way out.

'Beca,' Stacie pants, struggling to keep up with Beca's frantic pace as she shoves her way through the small crowd of people lingering in the kitchen. Stacie stops, presumably to smile at some boy somewhere – Beca doesn't care, she just continues on her way, her anger and frustration creating a path in the people along the way. 'Beca, stop!'

Beca doesn't stop until she's bulldozed her way through to the front door and bursts out into the cold night. It's not gotten any warmer, but the cold does its job of breaking through the bubble of emotion that's been built up over all the events of tonight, and she has to lean against the wall to catch her breath and stop herself from completely losing it, yet again.

Stacie runs out after her a few moments later, grinding to a halt in front of her. She grabs Beca's arm, but she throws her off.

'Couldn't you have just left me alone?' Beca shouts at her, although it really just comes out as an angry whimper. 'I'm already having a terrible night, and then you have to go and do that and make things even worse -'

'Beca, shut up,' Stacie says suddenly, clapping her hand over Beca's mouth. She lets out a muffled noise of indignation, trying to get Stacie to loosen her hold, but she won't let go. She says urgently, 'Beca, Chloe's here.'

Beca falls limp, her eyes widening at Stacie's words. 'Here?' she asks, but Stacie's hand is still covering her lips so what she says is 'Mreeh?'

'Oh, sorry,' says Stacie, taking her hand away.

'She's here? How the hell did she find out where I was? Where is she?' Beca asks, already spinning on her heel and about to head back inside.

'I saw her in the kitchen,' says Stacie, 'that's why I tried to get you to stop.'

Beca freezes. 'In the kitchen?' she says, turning to Stacie slowly. 'So did she see…'

'See what?' When Beca runs back inside, she shouts after her, 'See what, Beca?!'

The people still picking themselves up from when Beca nearly ran over them the first time immediately step out of her way when she comes back inside, which makes it much easier to push past back into the kitchen. The boys that had fallen into the pantry earlier are still there, and their eyes brighten when they see Beca again – but she pays them no heed, because Stacie was right.

Chloe is here. And the way she's looking at Beca suggests she probably did see, and is probably assuming they did exactly what Beca thought they were going to.

'Shit,' Beca breathes, coming to a stop.

Chloe unfolds her arms, stepping away from the countertop she'd been leaning against and coming towards Beca. 'That would probably be an appropriate reaction,' she responds coldly. When Beca opens her mouth, Chloe cuts her off, every word flat and emotionless. 'Before you ask, I texted Jesse to see where you were and get the address. When I got here there was a whole crowd of people outside that door saying there were lesbians making out, and/or having sex inside it. And wow, my surprise when you and Stacie came out of it not five minutes later.'

Beca pales. 'We weren't -'

Chloe holds up her hand. 'You know what, Beca? I came to apologise for lying to you, even if you totally got the wrong idea about what was going on. I guess I don't need to do that now.'

She starts to walk away to muted cheers from the boys; Beca seizes her hand and tries to turn her back. 'Chloe, wait! Let me explain!'

'Oh, like you let me explain what was going on?' Chloe snarls, shaking Beca's hand away. She's storming out of the house into the front garden the way Beca did only moments ago (the people immediately ducking for cover and parting to let them through again), with Beca scuttling after her. Chloe shouts back to her over her shoulder to Beca, sarcasm dripping from every word. 'Guess what, you were wrong! I wasn't making out with Tom, or having sex with him, or anything else you thought I was doing! I was literally just hanging out with him, trying to take my mind off you. I didn't tell you because I thought you might get jealous.' She laughs contemptuously. 'I'm so glad you proved me wrong.'

'Chloe, this isn't what you think it is -'

Chloe rounds on her, her face pink with fury. 'Was this a game to you, the whole time? Chloe has to work and beg for every little scrap of attention she can get from you, while you make out with Stacie, no problem?'

'I wasn't making out with her!' Beca yells, finally able to get the sentence out without Chloe cutting her off.

'So what were you doing with her?' Chloe demands. 'Hugging her? Fucking her? Playing Scrabble? What?'

'None of those things!' says Beca desperately. 'We were just talking at first - about you! She was leaning in like she was going to kiss me, and I honestly thought she was going to. But then instead of doing that, she asked whether I thought Donald wore boxers or briefs!'

That stops Chloe, catching her off guard mid-eye roll. 'What?' says Chloe blankly.

'That was exactly my thought!' Beca lets out a relieved laugh, thankful that Chloe seems to be grasping the absurdity of the situation. She puts her hands on Chloe's biceps, trying to keep her in place so she won't run away again. 'I didn't know what the fuck she was talking about!'

'So… you weren't kissing?' Chloe asks slowly.

'No. I promise. I wouldn't do that!'

Chloe sucks her bottom lip into her mouth then releases it, her eyes searching Beca's. 'But…' No, no, no buts, Beca says, cursing inside her head. 'Did you want to kiss her?'

Beca's immediate instinct is to say no, of course. And it's the truth. But there's a tiny, niggling bit of doubt in her mind - the bit usually reminding her how worthless she is - that tells her, 'Well actually, you weren't really pulling away, were you?'

She stumbles on what should be a confident 'No', and her hesitation says it all for Chloe.

Chloe's face falls. She wrenches herself away from Beca. 'I can't believe you,' she hisses, disgusted. 'I actually cannot believe you right now. You block me out because you think I'm sleeping with Tom – wrongly, might I add - so you think this is the best way to get back at me? Well, congrats, Beca.' She fans out her fingers at her sides. 'You did it. You hurt me. Nice one.'

'Why are you being like this?' Beca asks, frustrated. 'You're not my girlfriend!'

From the way Chloe stops abruptly, it was obviously the wrong thing to say. She storms over, getting right up in Beca's face and jabbing a finger into her chest.

'No, I am not your girlfriend, Rebecca Jolene Mitchell, but I am your best friend! And when I, as your best friend, spend every last moment of my time with you worrying whether I'm overstepping boundaries and trying to value your personal space, and then find you actually letting some other girl all over you who - all respect to Stacie - you aren't even close to, I think I'm entitled to get a little upset, don't you think?!'

It strikes Beca that she's never really seen Chloe get angry before. She's lost her temper with Beca several times now, even gotten a little bitchy, but not furious the way she is now. She thinks she knows why – Chloe is one of those people who can't help the tears brimming in their eyes as they shout, the trembling of their lip. She cares too damn much about people to make her anger cold and unemotional, to keep her distance from the issue even when badly hurt, and that's probably why she's on the verge of tears right now.

Beca, for her part, is not the same way with her anger. For her, it's a simple process; if she's attacked, she attacks right back.

'You'd be entitled to get upset if any of that shit about valuing my personal space were true!' Beca yells, pushing Chloe's finger away. 'Spending every last moment worrying about overstepping boundaries? Can you hear yourself? Is that seriously what you believe you do?'

Chloe's mouth drops open. 'Excuse me?! Beca, I've tried so hard to respect you -'

'Yeah, key word there: tried!' Beca snarls. 'Once you got bored of that, though, oh no, it was suddenly all my fault for not trying hard enough, wasn't it? If I needed space one day, then I was just reverting back to old habits. If I couldn't kiss you, that was me being difficult. That was me pushing you away just because I enjoyed it. Isn't that right?'

'I never said that -' Chloe starts, but Beca interrupts her.

'You didn't have to! It was written on your face every time I wasn't responding to you in exactly the way you wanted me to, every time I didn't magically start getting better for you.'

To Beca's (only mildly sadistic) pleasure, Chloe is starting to look uncomfortable, and from the way she isn't saying anything to argue back now, Beca knows her words are hitting home.

'You told me I was stringing you along, giving you breadcrumbs to pick up, teasing you. You know what those breadcrumbs were for me? Do you?' she challenges, but Chloe just shakes her head, her lip caught between her teeth. 'That was me trying to act like you. Trying to be as confident and happy with my body, with interacting with other people, as you are. Except I can't, because I just don't work that way.'

Beca realises she's basically been yelling at Chloe again; she lets her voice drop to a lower volume. Unfortunately, without the cloak of anger and sheer noise to bolster her words, her voice starts cracking a little with emotion as she speaks. 'I've spent this whole time thinking I was letting you down. Like whenever I couldn't deliver if you asked me questions I wasn't ready for, or asked me to do things I wasn't ready for, I was failing you. And I was trying, I promise you. I might have been sarcastic the whole time, but you know as well as I do that's just a defence mechanism.'

Beca instinctively reaches up to wipe a tear off Chloe's cheek, rubbing the slight wetness between her index finger and thumb.

'I'm never going to be enough for you,' she continues quietly. 'You need someone that won't hold back for you. It was a mistake to tell you I could do this. I was wrong, I can't. As long as I'm like this I don't deserve you.' She smiles slightly. 'Don't tell Aubrey she was right.'

'Beca,' Chloe croaks, catching her hand before it falls to her side and grasping it in her own. 'I'm so sorry, I -'

'Don't apologise,' Beca interrupts, squeezing her hand and letting it go. 'You didn't do anything wrong, really. Just expected more of me than I could give you…' She sighs. 'Chloe, if this evening told me anything, it's that I'm gonna keep fucking up like this, and I'm gonna keep assuming, and I'm gonna keep hurting you. This isn't me being afraid of what I might do to you. I've pretty much already proved to myself it's a certainty.'

Chloe's crying now, silent tears streaming down into her collar. Beca hesitates, then leans up and kisses her on the cheek, tasting the slight saltiness and feeling how cold her skin is underneath her lips.

'You should go home,' she tells her. 'Are you going to be alright driving?'

'Beca,' Chloe sobs, making Beca's heart squeeze a little. 'Can't we just try again?'

'I want to,' Beca replies honestly. 'I want to try so much for you, and I have been. But I'm not enough, and I don't think I ever will be.' She kisses Chloe again, lingering this time; before she pulls away, though, she whispers, 'I didn't want to kiss Stacie. I only want to kiss you. That's what I meant to say earlier… Go home, Chloe.'

When Jesse comes to get Beca fifteen minutes later – after a short text only saying 'Front garden' - he finds her huddled up in a ball by the gate, absolutely freezing and with tear stains on her cheeks.

'Jesus Christ, I leave you alone for five minutes…' Jesse mumbles, jogging over to help her up.

A/N: Oh, girls. Sometimes things need to get worse to get better, I suppose. Chloe has things she needs to work on, too. Speaking of, next chapter will be from her POV – I've resisted doing this, but at this point I think it could be important. Hope that's not a problem for you guys; if you hate the idea I'll scrap it.