A/N: So I might have had a bit of fun with this one and the next chapter.

But anyways…

Reviews and comments always appreciated and any suggestions are welcomed.

I don't own pitch perfect

Beca groaned as she felt the arm wrapped around her waist pulling her closer.

The first thing Beca noticed was the arm that wasn't supposed to be wrapped around her.

The second thing was that she was on a bed.

The third thing was that she was naked under the sheets with an equally naked girl she didn't recognize snuggling up next to her.

"Who the hell are you?" Beca immediately yelled a she jolted up and out the bed, grabbing as much of the sheets that she could. "Out, get out! Now!" she added instantly as the incredibly blonde woman who looked like a model of sorts rolled her eyes, grabbed her things, and stormed out of her room.

If it was her room.

Beca looked around the huge space of the bedroom. But it was plain, nondescript with the furnishing and décor. It was also a good one and a half times bigger than the room she had in her flat with Chloe.

Which pretty much suggested to Beca that she had probably gotten black out drunk last night, and she was probably actually crashing with the model she woke up with.

It was probably her room.

And she yelled for her to get out.

Who even does that?

Apparently Beca does.

Beca trudged out of the bedroom, the sheets she grabbed onto still wrapped around her as she made her way to the empty hallway.

That's when she realized she was wrong.

Just across the room she exited was a home studio barely hidden behind its slightly open door and as Beca made her way inside she realized from some personal effects scattered there that it was her studio.

She made her way down the hall and saw a study, two other rooms she assumed to be guest rooms – she didn't bother checking them out – until she reached the double doors of what she assumed to be the master's bedroom.

Her master's bedroom as it turned out.

She walked inside and studied every nook and corner of the room. Every bit of décor suggested that it was indeed her room. From the pictures on her dresser mirror, most of it was with her mom when she was little, to the records hanging on her walls, it was definitely Beca's room.

One particular picture on the dresser was even in a frame, and Beca could tell it was special. It was of her with her mother. They were in the park. Her mother sitting on a bench with another woman with striking red hair. Beca was standing right in front of her mother, her arm linked with a bright and bubbly redhead with impeccably blue eyes.

It reminded her of Chloe.

All that was missing was the scar on her forehead that for some reason she couldn't help but adore.

Because it made Chloe even more special.

And Beca found herself smiling a goofy smile for a good minute or two.

Funny, she never remembered being in a park with that redheaded girl.

And even with all the proof, the DJ still found it strange. If this was her room then how did it triple in size from the room she had in their flat?

On that note, how did her place triple in size in the first place?

Beca walked into the bathroom of her master's bedroom and saw, with surprise, the incredibly gorgeous bathroom in front of her.

Beca took a quick shower and dressed up immediately, still quite stunned.

But still quite sleepy.

So yeah, showering first before confronting the absurd reality in front of her.

She had her own penthouse suite as it turned out.

At one of LA's most premiere residence buildings.

The amount of expensive things – from clothing to equipment to you name it – that she owns still astounds her.

The view from her room even more astounding.

She did find it strange to find herself waking up in a guest room.

But considering she had probably taken home someone she didn't want snooping around her most private and treasured memories on display in her bedroom, she figured that was why.

And she wouldn't have complained one bit, her dreams apparently all came true overnight with Grammy's adorning the shelves in her sort of study connected to her home studio.

Except for the fact that when she finally went into the kitchen, a rather tall, rather intimidating German was in her kitchen, and Beca yelped.

"Oh, Guten Morgen Feisty Maus. I see you've thrown out your lady friend of the night." Luisa greeted casually as she handed Beca – who still pretty much had her jaws dropped down to the floor – her own cup of coffee.

"You… here… what? Why?" Beca mumbled.

"I do believe that your evening parties are getting more and more absurd if your memory for the week starts disappearing instead of just the night before." Luisa started to say. "I have been your guest for a week now, remember? I was working with you on that latest project of yours. But your gorgeous best friend here is about to bid you adieu, my flight back to Germany is leaving in a few hours. I'm all packed and ready to go my Feisty Maus, so I'll call you when my plane lands, and hopefully your memory should have returned."

"What?" was Beca still confused reply, but the German leader of DSM had just by then dismissed the topic, pulled her in a tight hug.

"Beca, I really don't have time to help jog your memory, I hope you forgive me, but I really must go."

"You're in my kitchen." Beca pointed out.

"Yes, my little Maus." Luisa replied and sighed – suggesting to Beca that this had probably happened before, but for whatever reason she has no idea – "I already called your best friend in advance, I have a feeling you'll need someone to sort you right after the crazy morning, and what I could assume an even crazier night for a certain lady killer DJ."

"What?" was all Beca gave as a reply getting more and more confused as the German gave her another hug before leaving.

Her thoughts immediately went to Chloe.

Did she block out a good amount of time from her memory?

Like a year, perhaps?

Beca checked the date on her phone, as soon as she found it, and made the discovery that it was, in fact, the day after the meteor shower.

It was still the same year.

So how did everything change overnight?

The DJ wasn't sure, but there was only one way to find out.

Beca walked around the penthouse, and found more and more proof that everything she's seeing must have been part of a dream.

A really weird but really great dream.

Where apparently she was a famous DJ/music producer.

Making it in LA at such a young age.

Which translates to "I didn't go to Barden".

So that probably meant she was never a Bella.

But on a side note, she did – strangely enough – meet Luisa.

So that meant she probably met the people who knew her in her real world.

Which strongly suggested that she was dreaming.

And that she would wake up soon.

She was just having an incredibly realistic dream where she could feel the hot water of the shower and appreciate the robust taste of her coffee.

Beca, on a whim, decided to pull off an experiment.

People do say that you can't get hurt in a dream right?

So Beca tried hitting a wall.

Thankfully before she could do serious damage someone pulled her arm away causing Beca to lose balance, falling to the floor.

Which hurt.

Badly.

Yeah, definitely not a dream.

Guess she wasn't in her LA anymore.

What on earth happened?