Brilliance struck in the form of a circle – a DVD to be specific. Jesse had been racking his brain to figure out how to draw Beca into a conversation consisting of more than caustic remarks and snarky jabs around their usual topics. He was also running out of clever album cover manipulation at the station. The hours he was putting in brainstorming on this topic, in addition to slyly checking her out, stalking her schedule and coercing Luke to play whatever it was Beca was submitting to him, altogether, were quickly eclipsing the rest of his life. Even Benji was starting to look at him a little funny, for a guy with gerbils in his pants.
It was safe to say his interest in this girl had escalated to above average levels. He needed to know if there was real meat here for a relationship. Jesse, in all his time spent with rom-coms, knew he needed more than just a pretty girl for a girlfriend, though Beca definitely had pretty all locked up. He needed something deeper – some kind of understanding of something to build a relationship on.
And today, while reorganizing his DVD collection looking for everything scored by John Williams, he finally got it. What better way to find out more about her interests than by sharing his? This was the greatest plan ever.
He jumped up from his racks of DVDs and starting pacing, shaking Jurassic Park in his hand for emphasis. They could watch a movie, and he would tell her all about his dreams of scoring, she'd tell him about her favorite movies and why she loved them, which would lead to her talking about the other things she loved. They would create the ultimate bond over cinema.
He glanced at the clock, checked his mental Beca GPS and figured he'd be able to catch her now in the quad after her Statistics class. Strike while the idea was hot and before he had a chance to overthink it. Yeah, he'd been known to do that.
He threw his stack of favorites into his bag with some snacks and a citronella candle (who knows? They could be in the quad until after sundown…ok, right, overthinking it now…), grabbed a towel to sit on and headed out on some Beca-caching.
And just as quickly as his brilliant idea arose, it was dashed. As Beca talked about her disinterest in movies, Jesse felt a cold splash of anxiety wash over his interest in her. How could HE, who lived and died by the brilliance of cinema and the scores they contained, be with someone who had absolutely NO interest in it?
All this was rolling through his mind as she teased him about the meaning of "Vader," and he still couldn't help but notice how cute she was while telling him about the interpretation of the name. And the way she bit the straw on the juice pouch while flashing him that smile. And her wonderful sarcasm.
Then it struck him. Regardless of the topic, they were still having a conversation that included more than just your basic, surface-level teasing. He had learned some things – her parents were divorced. She knew some German. She didn't like trips to the gynecologist (yeah that was too much info). He could work with this.
After his declaration that a movication was in order (which she didn't deny, by the way – mental note to get that scheduled), the topic of the riff-off rose.
"What the hell is a riff-off?" Beca said, her attitude showing she had it up to about here with crazy aca-antics.
"What do you mean, what is it? It's tonight! Aubrey hasn't told you guys about this?" he asked, disbelief coloring his words. The blonde was so uptight, he was surprised she wasn't appearing at their dorm rooms at random and siccing them with a lyric to match.
Beca had the good grace to blush slightly. "I guess it's possible she told us…we have rehearsal tonight, which now that you're saying this, is a weird time. I figured it was just Aubrey finding an extra slot to hone her non-vomit singing skills."
Jesse chuckled, as Aubrey's explosive singing skills were infamous in the a capella circuit, and then brought her up to speed on the competition that evening while she gurgled air along with the last of the juice pouch.
"So, we stand in a gross, empty pool, in the freezing dark, and challenge the other lame groups a capella chops, all for the glory of an outdated microphone?"
"I think that sums it up," Jesse assesses. "Though you did forget the bragging rights that come along with it; that's actually the biggest prize. We've been practicing with the possible categories and the older guys are showing us examples of how it works. It seems like it'll be fun…"
Beca pulls a cocked-eyebrow face that tells him she thinks differently.
"…but as we've established, you don't like anything fun," Jesse finishes. "So what do you do for amusement, Ms. Mitchell? Write European History papers," he says, as he gestures to her open book on the grass, and her computer.
"Yeah, that does sound way better. I love a little Napolean at Waterloo – really gets me going."
"Ok," he laughs, "well, my computer plays movies, that I love. What's on yours that's so interesting?" He leans over her to turn the screen in his direction.
Beca slaps his hand away and shuts the screen. "Nothing!"
He sits back, shocked by both her quick reaction and the scent of freesia that whipped his way with the slamming of the laptop. "Whoa, that's quite a reaction. That can only mean one of two things – you're watching porn, or you're writing love letters to your secret, estranged Internet lover who you've never met in real life but have a soul kinship for."
"Don't talk about Jacques that way," Beca said with affront. "He's very sensitive; he's a Pisces."
He's not sure if he should take her seriously, until she lets out a snorty laugh. "Dude, no. Like you, I am not attached, in real life or cyberspace. And it's not porn, or European History – though they can sometimes be alike..." she muses.
"Stalking an original tamigachi on eBay?" he guesses, relief flooding his senses at her declaration of unattachment.
"Nope."
"Day trading?"
"No!"
"Researching Luke's diet and workout regiment?"
She laughs at that one. "Yeah, and his tattoo artist of choice," she says with a grin. She looks at him, the grin fading, and meets his eyes. He can feel that she is taking his weight and measure.
She sighs the sigh of the long-suffering. "You're not going to leave me alone until I tell you what I was doing, are you?"
"I am at this moment mentally compiling hundreds of thousands of guesses, which I will shout at you in any public venue I spot you in," Jesse replies gleefully.
"You live to annoy me," she mutters as she pulls her laptop over to her and resignedly opens it up. "I was working on mixing some tracks."
"Is this the stuff you're always giving to Luke?" he asks, genuine interest showing through.
"Yeah. I want to produce music, 'when I grow up'" she says the end in a lower pitch, mocking his earlier statement.
He gives her a light punch on the arm, and scoots closer so he can see the screen over the glare of the lowering sun (and perhaps pick up another whiff of her perfume). "This looks like some serious software," he says, eyes flying over the widgets and scrub bars.
"I'm always trying out new ones," she says, as her mouse swoops around on the screen. "This is the latest. If you couldn't already tell," she glances up with a smirk, then back to the screen, "I'm not the kind of girl to spend her extra money on trendy clothes and expensive haircuts. Never had a fancy dress dance to save for. All my money goes into this," she says, pointing to the screen.
"And you love it," he surmises. He can tell from her tone that this computer, this music, is really where her life begins and ends. It's not just the setting sun that is making her skin and hair glow as she talks; she has literally come alive while discussing her favorite topic. Her face is lit up, her eyes engaged. Jesse allows himself a second to revel in the closeness that has sprung up during this interaction; it has gone way better than he could have hoped for. Also, he feels himself falling harder for her with every passing second.
"Let me hear it," he urges.
"No way! Uh, it isn't done yet," she says, flustered.
"You're always giving that stuff to Luke," he says, putting on his offended tone. "Are you telling me you like Luke better than me?" He stops and makes a show of considering. "Wait, don't answer that."
"Don't worry – Luke isn't giving me the time of day, musically or otherwise," she says, and he can see she is slightly deflated over this fact (hopefully the former part, and not the latter).
Like any good friend, he changes the subject. "So, when I'm scoring my blockbuster soundtracks, you can produce them," he says with enthusiasm. "We'll be like an unstoppable duo!"
"Ok, put away your song-writing super-tights, geek boy," Beca laughs. She saves her track and shuts the computer, turning her crossed legs and body to face him and reaching for the box of hard pretzels. "So if you want to score movies, does that mean you can play an instrument?" she asks, scrounging around for a pretzel fragment she approves of.
Wait, did Beca just initiate a conversation topic of some substance? With him?
Pulling himself out of his shocked state, he shared that he had been playing piano since he was 5, and has also picked up some guitar, saxophone, trombone, violin and drums.
"Whoa, you're like a musical genius," she says, genuine respect showing in her eyes. "What's your major, anyway? And why do I not know that already?" She crunches down on her selected pretzel.
"Yeah, some friend you are," he teases, thrilled she is actually taking an interest. "It's music theory and composition, with a minor in business."
"Wow, get after it. And you have time to work a job and be in the Trebles? Do you sleep?" she asks, no longer occupied with the pretzels, but totally engaged in this conversation.
"I drink a lot of 5-hour energy," he says. "5 a day, so I get that extra hour in. And, don't forget, finding the time and energy to annoy you," he adds, hoping she sees how important this relationship is to him.
"And that," she agrees, smiling even up to her eyes.
"So what's your major?" he asks, pulling the box of pretzels back toward himself.
She shrugs. "Nothing, yet. I'm just kind of phoning it in here; I really want to get out to L.A. and start working," she says, reaching for her boots. "I'm hoping after a year my dad will realize college is not the place for me and let the caged bird fly," she finishes, as she pulls one boot on after the other.
He is alarmed by the potential of her leaving, both Barden and this conversation. No, no boots, he thinks, mentally scrambling. This is going so well; he doesn't want it to end. She is slapping her book closed and putting that and her laptop into her bag.
"Ok weirdo – you have to eat before you riff, right?" he asks, gathering his things.
"Yeah, what of it? You want to torment me with more movie madness while I gag over campus food?"
Sounds like an invitation to Jesse. "Thought you'd never ask. Stop me if you've heard this: BA-BAM!" He looks at her expectantly.
She quirks an eyebrow, a smile sliding up her cheek.
"Jaws, come on! Two notes and you have a villain. I don't know what to say about it. Totally brill."
As they walk toward the dining hall, Jesse turns around to walk backwards, and mimes slow-running while he sings "Chariots of Fire." She walk-runs up to him and pulls him around in the right direction, looping her arm through his to get him to stop misbehaving and drawing attention.
"Chariots of Fire, Bec! Such a great score by Vangelis. He took electronic scores to a new level. It was groundbreaking. I'm gonna test you on this later."
Beca is shaking her head. Jesse clears his throat and appears to pull himself together.
"Sometimes I get self-conscious about my…" he begins in a normal voice, only to self-interrupt to blast out the "Gone With the Wind" soundtrack and continues singing, "Are you embarrassed by this game I've started to play?"
Beca shushes him. Both their voices die off in volume as they walk away, but not Jesse's in enthusiasm.
"Okay, it's not a library, I can go loud," he says, as he pulls her toward food. "Come on, let's carb up so I can school you later, Ms. Mitchell."
Last lines taken from The Holiday, featuring another scoring character, Jack Black as Miles.
I always figured the riff-off was right after this, since Jesse is wearing the same outfit (do I stalk this movie or what?) Anyone else have other thoughts? Is it in a week, and that's his laundry cycle?