There was a sound like shattering glass, and Jesse awoke.

He tried to reacquaint himself with daylight as he squinted toward the other side of his dorm, where Benji was hastily sweeping up what looked like a broken mirror.

"Sorry!" Benji said. "Magic trick gone wrong. As usual." He dumped the pieces into the trash can, then smiled at his roommate. "Good morning."

Jesse echoed the greeting and flopped back onto his pillow. He absentmindedly reached for his phone. Missed call from Beca. 2:35 AM. Jesse frowned. Why had Beca called him so late last night? His heart missed a beat as his mind jumped to every possible worst-case scenario.

He quickly clicked her voicemail.

Hey, it's me. So if you get this, you may not be able to hear it, because apparently I have nothing to say. Yeah, that's music producer speak for "I suck." Ugh. Her voice wavered, like she was about to cry. But it's really late, and you're probably asleep. So. Text me when you get this. Bye.

The message ended, and Jesse let out a breath. Whatever the problem was, it didn't seem life-threatening. Even so, something was obviously wrong – something to do with her internship at the recording studio. Had that asshole producer said something bad about her demos? She had been so excited to give those demos to him; if he had insulted them and hurt her feelings, Jesse swore, he would… Well, he probably shouldn't say what he would do. He hopped out of bed and pulled a clean-looking shirt out of the closet.

O O O

When Jesse knocked on the door of the Barden Bella's house, it took nearly a full minute for someone to realize what was happening and open the door. Luckily it was Beca. She was still in her pajamas, and her hair was sticking out funny on one side. "What are you doing here so early?" she muttered, squinting out the door like the sun was her personal enemy.

"I got your voicemail," he said, holding up the Denny's takeout bag, "and I thought someone might need a stack of pancakes and a milkshake."

"A milkshake at 9:00 in the morning?" Beca smiled. "Oh, you know me so well."

"Of course I do." Jesse walked through the door and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm happy to feed you and listen to whatever caused that 2 AM phone call."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry I called so late, I wasn't thinking."

"Don't worry about it. I'm happy to be your late-night confidant." Jesse set the takeout bag on the kitchen counter and handed his girlfriend the milkshake. "So what happened? Whatever it is, it shouldn't make you think you suck, because let me tell you, that's the farthest thing from the truth."

"Well," came a voice from the stairs, "there may be something she sucks." It was Fat Amy, and she was wiggling her eyebrows at Jesse.

"Gross, Amy! Leave!" Beca yanked a pillow off the nearest chair and whipped it at her friend, who dodged it and ran back up the stairs, laughing.

She turned back to Jesse. "I know, I was just in a bad mood last night." She sighed. "My boss at the recording studio said that my music is just the same as everyone else's. Mashups. Boring. He said he wanted something original, something that I had created, and so I thought, sure, I can do that. I have lots to say." Beca dug a spoon into the milkshake. "But then I sat down in front of my computer last night, and nothing came out. I just kept pressing the same piano key over and over again like some sort of mute 2-year-old."

Jesse was silent for a moment as he chewed a pancake in thought. "Well, maybe you need inspiration. Every artist needs a muse, right?" He smiled a lopsided grin. "Good thing you have a handsome and charming boyfriend right here."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Of course I tried writing songs about you, idiot. And it worked, at first. But then after a few lines, or a few notes, I would realize I was writing someone else's song, not my own. Like what I thought was an original beginning of a song was really just Don't Stop Believin'.

"Don't Stop Believin'," Jesse echoed. "What a first song. I think it'll be a hit."

"Ha-ha." Beca waved her spoon at him.

"Well, maybe you just need to get all the other music out of your head first," Jesse said. "Stop listening to music for a day or two and see if you can wipe it out. Start with a clean slate."

"Two days isn't going to make me forget every song in the world. Besides, I need to listen to music in order to come up with set-lists for the Bellas."

Jesse stole her milkshake and began digging out pieces of chocolate. "Okay, okay," he said after a moment. "I think I have the answer. You need a Eureka moment."

"A Eureka moment?" Beca yanked her milkshake back.

"You know, that moment when something just hits you, and everything suddenly is clear. Bam. A song."

"So how do I get this Eureka moment?"

Jesse smiled. "Dance with me." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and plugged it into the speaker on the counter.

"It's 9:30 in the morning. We'll wake everyone."

"I think most of them are already awake." He nodded towards the stairs, where Lilly was peeking around the corner. Her eyes widened when she saw them looking and she jumped back with an odd squeak.

Jesse reached out to Beca and she relented, grabbing his hands. "Okay."

Jesse smiled and clicked the speaker up to full volume. Suddenly Shake It Off was bouncing off the walls like cannon-fire.

"Taylor Swift?"

"C'mon, this is the perfect dance song!" Jesse began to dance around the room, shouting the lyrics at the top of his lungs. "What's better inspiration?"

Beca laughed. She began to dance in front of her boyfriend, pulling at his shirt.

Because the players gonna play, play, play, play, play and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake. Shake it off.

Jesse grabbed Beca's hand and twirled her around. They pulled wooden spoons off a shelf and used them as microphones. They tried to out-do each other with the craziest dance moves. By the end of the song, Beca was laughing so hard that her laughs were coming out more like wheezes. She leaned into Jesse's chest.

"Any Eureka moment yet?"

"Yes," Beca said. "That you're a weirdo."

Jesse smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Then his eyebrows wrinkled. "I don't know how to put this, but you smell like Fat Amy."

"Yeah, she rubbed her confidence on me," Beca said.

"She… what?"

"Don't ask."