Wow, the welcome party is so overwhelming. Looks like I'm not the only one excited here! :) Oh dear lord, let me do this right... Don't make me disappoint.

oilzz and stuff (from Stolen): Since you're PM disabled, I hope you get this... I am truly grateful for all the positive reviews you left. Hope to see you around here. :)

Lackluster Brilliance, itsmefiebs, madness2013, theothergranger, SendrickUzumaki, airdr12: Thanks so much! And I can't wait for everything to take its toll as well. :)

happyanon: I'm really sorry about the cliffhanger. I'm trying to make it up here. LOL.

Cookie: I've missed writing as much as I've missed everybody too.

Guest (Feb 10), GinNoSaji, Joyce, smw48910: I feel you, guys. I can't believe we're going to have this ride all over again. LOL.

Guest (Feb 9): Perfect song, isn't it?

NightmareWalker: I'll keep that in mind, thank you. I guess I'm going to need some help. I really have no idea how to do this. Had I known I would be writing a sequel for such a complicated story, I should have planned ahead. My bad.

MysticFalls94: You know, the first thing I asked myself when I decided to do this was "How the hell am I going to play this out?" I just hope I still have a few more good tricks up on my sleeve. LOL.

BeChloeFan01, cxcxcx386, Guest (Feb 8), Natali1798: It's so good to be back! :)

RobOverstreet: It's my pleasure, dear. :)

Now for a Valentine treat, I present to you the first chapter...

CHAPTER ONE: Hello

There were sounds of trundling and shouting and laughing. Loudly. That was when Chloe realized that giving Aubrey a duplicate of her house keys was the worst idea she ever had in mind. It gave her best friend the unwarranted permission to come barge into her sanctuary at any given time. Hence, the redhead deemed deserving to give herself a little smack on her forehead along with an uttered groan for such a terribly stupid decision.

The superfluous noises coming from downstairs were no doubt made by her friends; Chloe could recognize the thick Australian accent even through the sound of muffled echoes followed closely by Jesse's bunch of stammered words. If only she could reach for a special remote like that one on Adam Sandler's movie and press on a mute button, so she could have an extra few more minutes of peaceful sleep, an extra few more minutes for herself. Regrettably, she could already hear the bedroom door creak open and sense the presence of the Aubrey Posen – the loud upset sigh was a big giveaway – so even more, Chloe pretended that she was still asleep. It was much easier that way.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

It didn't stop the blonde heiress from talking to her though. Aubrey knew her too well especially whenever she was pretending to be asleep in order to shoo away people.

"I certainly did not beg Kimmy Jin to clear out your schedule for today just so you could be pathetic as usual," she started with her lecture. "Posens don't beg, you know that, but I sure went out of my way to do it because I actually want to spend some good time with my best friend. Chloe, you promised you won't act like this! You promised that we would all have fun today!"

Still, the redhead wasn't keen to move an inch. Never mind that she was already being unfair here. Yeah, she did promise... but so did Beca who failed to come back when she deliberately promised to.

"Come on now, Chloe!" implored Aubrey who aggravatingly marched her way towards the bed, her high-end wedges were clacking all over the room before carefully bouncing into the space on the white sheets next to her best friend's slender body. "Do you know what Beca would have said if only she was here, huh?"

Chloe automatically held her breath at the mere mention of Beca's name proving just how much the fallen Phoenix had an effect on her. Damn it. Her best friend was using it against her. Again.

"Nothing," the redhead gave an answer finally, turning to her side to avoid any more of her best friend's claws. "She would say nothing. She would simply, wordless, terrorize you into leaving the room so we could carry on with our heated make out session that you have just rudely interrupted. Bam. There, you're dead. She just killed you."

"Heh." Aubrey rolled her eyes, annoyed by the entirety of the statement. "I'm glad your sense of sarcasm didn't die with the Phoenix. Very funny, Chloe!"

"But I wasn't being sarcastic."

Fine, there was a good pinch of truth in there. According to Fat Amy and Jesse, Beca's hormones a.k.a. horniness was the great unstoppable force, and The List was pretty much self-explanatory. So in Aubrey's defense, just the thought that her best friend, a baby like Chloe, making out with someone was already shuddering to imagine. Hence, to change the topic in an instant, the young Posen finely snatched the long-stemmed red rose away from its special container, a Swarovski crystal vase.

"This rose has to go, Beale."

"Hey!" Chloe immediately sat up, alarmed, and focused her entire being on the delicate item in the hands of her fellow heiress. "Put it back, Posen! Now!"

"Not until you get your pathetic ass off the bed," the other negotiated quickly, jumping out of the white sheets with the desired memorabilia tightly secured in her grip, the fragments of its dried petals were unfortunately falling down with the wind. "If this is what's going to make you leave this room and enjoy the day with us downstairs, then fine, we'll play this game."

The redhead was already on her feet as well, her hands leveled up to her chest, guarded, trying to make sure that her best friend wouldn't break her precious red rose.

"Aubrey, just give it back to me. Please? Just… come on."

"Come and get it."

"Please. Aubrey… It's… Give it to me now!"

"Do I need to throw it downstairs, Chloe?"

"No!" exclaimed the redhead as soon as she could. "I'm coming down! I'm coming down! I promise! I… I-I will be… normal today! Swear! Just… please give it back to me, Aubrey!"

And the heckling slowly disappeared from the blonde's face. Oops, something's not right. The look on her best friend's eyes, the tears that threatened to leave them any moment; the pleading that strained her voice; the fear to be broken all over again – they all spelled out the message that this dead rose held a very high value that was a little more than necessary. So with a bit of guilt, she handed the rose over and soon, Chloe was hugging it like it was in fact the most cherished treasure that everybody was going crazy for.

"Chloe, it's just a rose," she muttered because that's how it should be. It should be just a rose, nothing more than that.

"I know it seems nothing to you, but it means the whole world to me."

"Is that why you painted your walls yellow?" Aubrey could't take it anymore. She didn't want to talk about it the moment she saw the vibrant walls, frankly. It had Beca Mitchell painted all over it, and that dead meat was always a bad idea ever since. But then here was her best friend breaking down over this stupid piece of dead flower. "Chloe, your walls were just all white yesterday… now they're all fucking yellow!"

"I'm a twenty-four year old grown woman, Aubrey! I can do whatever I want!"

"Then at least fucking want to be happy again!"

Aubrey Posen was screaming in utter frustration. At her own best friend. It only meant that Chloe was being stupid again, and the screaming was usually a wake-up call. But something about it felt like it was different.

"Look." She took a deep breath to ease the tension out. "I love you, Chloe. You're my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. I know how much you miss Beca but… she's gone. You can wait all you want, but she's never coming back. Now you have to move on. You have to be happy again. Even without her, Chloe. Please? For me?"

And her best friend shrugged her shoulders and sighed through the sobbing. "I loved her, Aubrey… No, I love her. I still do. I always will."

"I know," Aubrey nodded her head eloquently. "Everybody knows that."

"Then you have to understand. You can't just require me to let it all go and move on because that's honestly too much to ask, Aubrey. These... this stupid rose, these fucking yellow walls – these are all I've got left of her… Do you know that I don't even own a photograph of her? And most of the time, I get so scared that I might forget how she looked like. I don't want that, Aubrey. It scares the shit out of me."

"But you don't have to be scared. You still have me… and Stan, and Ronie, and practically everybody else."

"Yes," Chloe briefly nodded in agreement. "But not Beca."

And Aubrey heaved a long upset sigh in surrender as she helplessly stared at her best friend. There was just one thing, one person whom Chloe needed this very moment and beyond – it was Beca. Sadly for her, the blonde heiress, in spite of the fact that she was a Posen, possessed no power to make the mighty Phoenix come all the way back. It was never a measurement of true friendship, but who could stop Aubrey from feeling disappointed? She failed. There was nothing she could do to help her best friend, except from a worthless cliché of action that was to move a little closer and envelop the redhead in her arms.

"It's going to be fine," she promised nonetheless. "You're going to be fine, Chloe."

That was it. There couldn't be any more perfect timing to join in but this. The pair of IT experts who was then completely forgotten by the Posen bitch had dragged themselves away from their not-so-much of a hiding place, behind the door. Jesse awkwardly spread his arms in reluctance, but even before he could decide to dive in, Fat Amy had already swept the entire group for a big hug (a more subtle way of saying "crushing their ribs").

Paul fixed his tie and straightened his suit as fast as he could then upon Gail's signal, he let himself into the office of the most powerful man there existed in the Phoenix Tower. Being the new Head Security, the work sure demanded countless moments of surprises. The list of which that he had expected didn't include the sight of his boss holding up to him a bottle of Scotch in the middle of the day at the workplace.

"Sir, you asked for me?"

"Yes," was the simple answer before the business tycoon proceeded with his walk towards the sofa at the side and set a pair of drinking glasses on the coffee table. "Come, have a seat with me."

And the bodyguard obliged, no further questions asked.

"I've always known that you're one hell of a smoker, I'm just not quite sure if you drink as much as you bleed. But I assume we've been through enough troubled times to convince you to get drunk with me in these early hours."

Paul remained quiet.

"The Balvenie 40, it is!" Clarence cheered momentarily, still, and then poured the liquor into the drinking glasses to commence the little impromptu bonding time. "Forty-year-old single malt Scotch. It's a great experience."

"The Syndicate is close to shutting down," assured his Head Security if ever that was the problem that threatened his boss. "Sir, the Society is now dead too."

The redhead, however, only responded with a sardonic laugh.

"The Syndics are no longer my brothers. Just give me a go, then my boys and I will hunt them all down for you. I am no Luke. I made a choice, and this side is what I have chosen. Now I am your faithful servant, Mr. Beale."

"The airlines is gone, Paul."

The former Syndic didn't open his mouth to respond, confused by the sudden induction of such into the conversation. He had been pretending long enough as bodyguard to acknowledge the fact that the airlines belonged to the business zone of Clarence Beale's life in the real world. But it shouldn't be a problem. Business was one thing that had always went to the right direction in Clarence's life.

"Sir?"

"I was outnumbered," replied the businessman casually making a pause to sip on his Scotch. "The Board had decided. We've sold it to the rival company. Many believe that it just won't work anymore with my name attached to it. It's either it goes bankrupt or we sell it to keep it running. But either way, I've lost it already. It's gone."

"W-What do you want me to do, sir?" Paul had to ask. "Would you have me kill the entire Board?"

Clarence shook his head with a small laugh. "I just want you to drink with me… because I have failed my daughter once more… As a kid, the airlines was her most favorite thing. Chloe used to love flying. She loved it so much that if she could keep one thing out of this whole corporation, she would have chosen the airlines without any hesitation. Ironically, it's the first thing I've lost. Another thing that she truly loves… gone… and it's all my fault… again… It's Beca Number Two, Paul."

"Have you talked to Miss Beale then, sir?"

"How do you talk to someone who doesn't want to talk to you?" the redhead posted the question sincerely because he desperately needed to know. If only Paul had the answer for that. The bodyguard, however, simply lowered his head and drank in response. So Clarence sighed and poured more liquor into his own glass as the time ticked by. "You're wrong, you know."

The Head Security tilted his head to the side as he waited for the follow up.

"Unlike the Syndicate," Clarence went on, "the Society coexists with the people. That means it's never dead, Paul. The Society lives… and who knows? Maybe, at this very moment, underground, the hunt for the treasure still continues."

At the end of that sentence, both men caught themselves exchanging a meaningful look. Thus, to make a pretentious ignorance, the men in black suits raised their respective glasses of Scotch, and drank away. Maybe. Funny how powerful the word could imply to be.

"This is a total disaster!" Chloe could hear the complaints of her diva of a best friend as she made her way to the living room where the rest of the group had already convened for the movie marathon they had planned to do. "I miss the personal chef, the servers, the food. I miss the 152-inch screen, the grandeur of the wooden ship, and I certainly miss Captain Jack Sparrow. Remind me again why the hell did my idiot best friend wanted to leave the manor."

"Quit bitchin' around, will 'ya?" the other blonde shot back. "Jesse and I grew up with pirated movies and stuff. I could be stupid and a total redneck, but this 110-inch HD TV will always be much better than a small laptop screen, Your Kardashian Highness."

The regular bickering was temporarily put to an end when Jesse purposely cleared his throat to signify Chloe's arrival. All eyes suddenly shifted towards her, and she did her very best to do her end of the bargain as promised – flash a big smile and act as happy as she possibly could.

"Did America run out of cows or something?" she inquired, mystified a little. Cars was already playing on the wide flat screen TV mounted on the wall but the table was set with big bowls of greens instead of the typical junkies or any other unhealthy food that was always fit for occasions like this. "Has everybody gone vegan? I thought we're supposed to be in love with killer burgers."

"Finally!" Fat Amy screamed in victory, even pumping her fists up in the air and looking up to the ceiling for dramatic effect. "Faith in humanity restored! Thank you, Chloe."

"Hey!" Aubrey threw a look at the Australian chick then secured her own hands on her hips intimidatingly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are making us eat a lawn, bitch!"

"I-I'm fine with anything," Jesse predictably just shrugged his shoulders earning himself a 'don't be so stupid' look from everyone. "Okay, I prefer popcorn or anything else, but I-I don't want to argue with Aubrey. She could be… really… scary."

The Posen heiress appeared to be gratified by the adjective associated with her, surprisingly. Fat Amy, on the other hand, punched her fellow old Phoenix on the shoulder to prove that she was that scary too.

"Idiots." Chloe was laughing at her spot. Hysterically. And the view was so rare that the entire world seemed to have stopped to savor on it; her friends all stared at her in awe. It felt like forever since the last time it actually happened that the sensation was almost a miracle.

"Punch him again," Aubrey, without thinking, made the command.

Her normally antagonist gladly obliged much to Jesse's dismay. They were going to do it over and over again if that's what it would take to make the lonely Chloe Beale at least laugh one more time.

"Guys, stop!" the redhead put some effort to save the poor guy from obtaining some bruises but her jolt of laughter kept on coming giving the wrong signal to the Australian blonde. Fine, maybe she was enjoying it – just a little bit – but all because her friends were clearly a bunch of crazies. "Please don't hurt him. Come on, guys, let's get this thing started. Go raid my kitchen instead."

At the full consent, even before the end of that sentence, Fat Amy swiftly headed towards the food factory dragging along her human grocery cart. What? She had the formal consent to raid the kitchen!

"I'm still eating my salad," Aubrey posted it supposedly as a threat.

Chloe winked at her playfully instead that it almost felt like having the old one back. "And I'm still ordering pizza."

The Posen heiress sported a smirk as she watched her best friend pick up the phone and make the call. If only Stan was there to witness all those moments for himself. Well, Chloe was almost Chloe. So hopefully, in time, Stan would be almost Stan. Then everything would be alright. Death would finally stop breaking people apart.

It was both a pleasant and an unpleasant surprise when the secretary announced the arrival of her emotionally unstable son at the receiving area. Ronie hurried out of her office to meet him despite being completely unprepared for it.

"Stan," she breathed out as soon as she cautiously shut the door behind her.

"You could have just let me in," he told her, a little confused by the situation. "That's the entire point of having an office, mom, and a secretary. You don't have to come all the way outside."

Almost too quickly, Ronie was flashing this awkward and nervous big grin. For a second there, it appeared like she was the frivolous youngster while her son was the mature one. She resembled those Barden kids who would try to hide an entire brick wall of mess behind their collective backs. Optimistically though, she wouldn't be as obvious about it.

"Mom."

"What? I didn't expect you to come. You're supposed to be over at Chloe's... with your friends."

Stan sighed heavily. If he wanted a lecture, he wouldn't have come."So can we go in? I just need to talk."

"Uh… y-yeah," his mother nodded her head with hidden disinclination as she held on the knob possessively. "But you know, i-if you are more comfortable here outside. We can also have tea here… o-or juice, or c-coffee, anything you want, dear. Plus, my secretary would love to listen to your... manly stories. Uh… Sports? Sex? Drugs?"

The young Mitchell turned towards the horrified secretary for a quick apologetic gesture.

"Mom, is there something wrong?"

It wasn't the kind of question Ronie would be happy to answer as of the time being. So, defeated, she flashed yet another big grin and shook her head to dismiss the idea. "Let's go to my office."

With hands silently shaking, she turned around facing the door and took a deep breath. She subsequently pushed it open to reveal the room looking normal, too normal, like no two people occupied it just a few minutes ago. It was both a pleasant and an unpleasant surprise; relieving and disappointing all at the same time. That was pretty close. Phew. Secretly, she surely wanted that family reunion to happen – be it planned or by an accident – but apparently, it wasn't the right timing for it yet.

Chloe should have known that the movie marathon would have ended up into a silly drinking game. Aubrey initially refused to join, but eventually gave in to the temptation after just a few taunting from Fat Amy. Jesse as always simply agreed with everybody else's idea which he regretted in the end because then he had to throw himself in between the two blondes again to stop their catfight. Luckily, he still volunteered to drive them home after the pair had already passed out by the stairs.

The day turned out to be really… fun. It could be the booze, but who cared? The fact that Chloe could still recognize how fun actually felt like was a good sign, right? It meant that she was getting better… hopefully. She cried along to Tuesdays With Morrie, laughed along to The Hangover, screamed along to Evil Dead, and just practically did everything she never genuinely did in over a year. It felt good, really. But it didn't seem to feel so right, because as she entered the Yellow Room and lied down on her bed for the night, she found her mind drifting away to the pool of memories where Beca Mitchell could only exist since.

"But she's right here," she whispered in argument as Aubrey's words flashed in her mind: She's gone. You can wait all you want, but she's never coming back. "I can feel that she's right here."

The atmosphere, however, was being a very quiet cricket again, betraying her and humiliating her, proving her intuitions wrong once more.

"Beca, please. Just one sign. Give me one sign. Let me know that you're still here with me, babe."

Chloe waited for five reasonable seconds, just like how it was every night, but nothing came as usual, so she smiled bitterly through the dark; a sad tear slip out of her eyes one after the other, and they didn't stop even when she tried. It seemed like she was going to cry to sleep again… only it wasn't, because then the phone that was clenched in her hands rang loudly in the silence of the evening. She didn't even realize she was still holding it. Truth was she'd been holding it all day just in case Fat Amy would want to order another pizza because it turned out that two boxes weren't enough for her alone.

The young heiress was supposed to be throwing the phone away, infuriated by whoever was calling her at this ungodly hour. But she answered. For whatever reason the universe had for this, she did answer the damn call.

"Hello?"

No response.

"Hello?" she croaked louder than the first just to be sure she could be heard. Still, nothing came.

She was supposed to think that it was just some stupid prank by someone who seriously had to get a life and so must hang up already. But she kept the phone against her ear. She could hear someone breathing. There was unquestionably life at the other end of the line. And for whatever reason the universe had for this, that certain sound of breathing calmed her when nobody and nothing else was able to. It soothed her like it was some kind of a magical therapy. The tears had stopped and her lips had curved into a serene smile. For the first time ever, it honestly felt like Beca Mitchell was never truly gone. Chloe wasn't going to cry herself to sleep this time; she was going to sleep contentedly in the arms of a certain cricket's lullaby.

So it's not that much, and it's totally a different approach from how I started Stolen before, but my guts are telling me this is the right course of action. Any thoughts?

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect.