Chloe sat at the desk in their shared room, staring at the paper in front of her. Damned Algebra. Numbers and letters should never be mixed. She tapped her pencil against the wooden surface and tried to ignore the blonde pacing anxiously behind her, but her patience was running thin.
"Aubrey, could you like… Not pace?" Aubrey froze and crossed her arms.
"Chloe, I'm all for school and studying and getting good grades and stuff, but how can you do Algebra at a time like this? We're doomed. Doomed! The auditions today were awful. Awful. Hardly any of them have the potential to be Bellas. What are we going to do? We're going to be the worst acapella group in all of history and we'll embarrass ourselves in front of the entire Barden community and I'll never get a chance to redeem myself for blowing finals last year and-" Aubrey's breath hitched in her throat, and Chloe rushed from her seat to put an arm on her friend.
"Shh, breathe, Bree, breathe." The last thing she needed right now was Aubrey heaving her dinner all over the floor. Aubrey closed her eyes and inhaled, allowing her muscles to relax a bit. Chloe wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist and pulled her into a hug.
"It's going to be fine, okay? We're going to have a great year, and the Barden Bellas are going to soar straight to Nationals, okay?"
"I really hope you're right," Aubrey murmured into Chloe's hair. She straightened suddenly, regaining her composure and smoothing her hair. "Like my Dad always used to say, 'You've got to crawl through the mud on your belly if you want to make it out alive.'"
Chloe wrinkled her nose. "Um, translation?"
"No pain, no gain Chlo." Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Aubrey. They'd grown much closer over the past few years, despite being arguably the most unlikely of friends. While Aubrey was stern and high-strung and disciplined, Chloe was ditzy and laid back and fun. But they'd grown to love each other, with Aubrey taming Chloe's wild side and Chloe toning down Aubrey's stress levels whenever the blonde freaked out (Chloe had even managed to deal with Aubrey during finals week, a feat which had proved to be incredibly difficult, but that had been accomplished nonetheless).
"Now, let's think about this," Chloe said. "There were definitely some girls at auditions who'd make great Bellas. Cynthia Rose? She was amazing. And the brunette… Stacie? She was good."
"Mmhm," Aubrey nodded absentmindedly.
"Oh, and what did you think of Beca? Wasn't she great?" Chloe tried not to sound too enthusiastic, but she was beyond happy that the freshman had decided to show up to the auditions. The redhead had been worried that their shower moment had scared the poor girl off (Chloe was still confused by the fact that her openness tended to send girls running in the other direction… I mean, she was just trying to be friendly), but Beca Mitchell had arrived just in time to perform – not the required song, mind you, but some neat little thing with a cup. Chloe knew she'd be a great addition to the Bellas. Aubrey, however, was not convinced.
"I don't know Chloe… I mean, sure she's got a great voice and all, but I don't know if she really fits the Bella image, you know? The Barden Bellas are a group of women – classy, elegant, independent women. We need to uphold the image our ancestors worked so hard to construct. And Beca? Well, she's like this alternative punk rocker who wears too much black and has weird spikes in her ears." Chloe didn't stop herself from rolling her eyes this time round.
"Aubrey, you're so… Old fashioned. Maybe it's time we try something new as the Bellas, eh? Shake things up a bit? Trade in our scarves for something… Edgier?" Uh oh. Too far.
"Chloe, what the hell is the matter with you? The only way we're going to succeed with the Bellas is if we keep the things the way they've always been. I can't believe you're questioning my judgment on these things!" Aubrey snapped, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.
"Sorry, sorry! Never mind, forget I said anything, okay? We'll keep things the way they are. Just… Give Beca a chance, okay? Or consider it at least?" Aubrey's tension eased, and she sighed.
"Alright, alright fine. I'll think about it, okay?" Chloe nodded. "I'm going to bed now. Don't stay up too late. We've got a long season ahead of us." Chloe couldn't help but chuckle at this. Living with Aubrey was like having a second mother sometimes. Chloe switched on her desk light as Aubrey flicked off the main switch, the small lamp basking the room in a soft glow. The redhead regarded her friend with a small smile; Bree looked so peaceful when she was sleeping. The lines of worry faded from her face and her body became soft and relaxed. Chloe sometimes wondered how Aubrey had become the girl she was; so buttoned up, so paranoid and stressed all the time. Aubrey had never really opened up to anyone – or at least not to Chloe – about her personal life. She knew that Aubrey's dad – Sergeant Posen – was a military officer with a heart of steel, and that while Aubrey looked up to him and admired him greatly, she was also terrified of him. More specifically, terrified of failing him. Chloe sometimes worried for her friend; she was a time bomb, a bubbling grenade of angst and stress, and it was always just a matter of time before she blew up. Last year's final performance at the Lincoln Center had been the result of Aubrey packing in her stress to the point where her body couldn't take it anymore. And it was bound to happen again soon enough.
Chloe sighed, shoving aside her Algebra homework. She was too tired to do math. She shut off the light at her table and crawled into bed. She just wanted Bree to be happy. Didn't everyone deserve to be happy?