Disclaimer: I do NOT own Pitch Perfect or any of its characters nor do I have the rights to the franchise. All rights go to Universal Studios. Any Copyright infringement was not intentional, if required then send me a message and the story will be deleted. Sorry for any inconvenience.
I do NOT own Lost on You by LP nor do I have the rights. This story was inspired by the song but does not use the lyrics. Any Copyright infringement was not intentional, if required then send me a message and the story will be deleted. Sorry for any inconvenience.
Author's Note: This was not the first song I had chosen. But, looking back, it seemed like the better choice. I might upload the previous fic under its own name later tho. It's a wee bit short but I wanted to try something..different.
Summary - Chloe's makes dinner...
Lost on You
Chloe had waited for this day, her eyes had been glued to the calendar for months. The beating in her chest could rival the jauntiest of tunes on the radio. The noise of which nearly drowned out the sound of her earliest alarm. She rolled out of her double bed at the first dim ding of her phone. The covers were thrown carelessly off her body as she sprang to her feet. She knew she shouldn't be this excited for having slept in but she would never have been so thankful for setting an alarm for midday. The thought that she had rested enough provided her the energy she wished she had every other day.
She hardly paid attention to the state of her bed as she made her way towards the kitchen. The radio played uplifting tunes, allowing her body to bounce around. Each new tune added an extra sway to her movements. The cabinets joyfully tapped while she selected her choice of ingredients. It was too early for her to sing her heart out, instead, she steadied into humming her favourite choruses.
Each chop of the knife set its own rhythm into motion. She had easily peeled the carrots and Parsnips, leaving them in a tray on top of her preheating oven. The rustic slices were offset by the thinly sliced mushrooms that she kept on the board.
Pulling the fridge door open, she inspected her chosen dinner course. A whole dried duck sat waiting for her to retrieve the moment the door opened. He was larger than she had intended but she wasn't a woman to complain about getting a great deal. The duck had been drying in the air overnight, waiting for the finishing touches. He was unceremoniously stuffed with 3 cloves of garlic, sprigs of rosemary and half a lemon that would leave anyone wincing in discomfort. Chloe smiled as she placed him on a drip tray and into the blazing heat of her oven.
Looking at the size of the duck, she opted to set a timer for 45 minutes.
Giving her enough time to start her cleaning routine. She swept the floors, hoovering soon after as the various new layers of muck splattered the carpet in almost all the rooms. The windows were never one to be cleaned, they never seemed to need polishing. She only prioritised the main rooms; the kitchen, the dining room, the living room and the bedroom. Most were the same chores on repeat. The same hoovering for the floors, fluffing up the pillows and straightening all the blankets. But, as tedious as the chores were, it still took her until the alarm to get the first two rooms to her liking.
Adjusting her loose ponytail, Chloe leaned in front of the oven, carefully easing the bird from the confines. She was hit with the smell of garlic to the point her tastebuds hummed in appreciation. The striations in the skin had crisped up nicely, just as the juices had freely fallen into the tray below. (She silently thanked her earlier self for lining the tray). Using the biggest tongs she had, she carefully lifted Frederick -the duck- and flipped him over. She let him sit back in the oven for another 30 minutes.
The sight of her handy work lightened her shoulders. Her steps became featherlike as she danced around her last tasks to clean. The dining room table had been quickly wiped down with a series of baby wipes. The soft oak newly enlightened as she scoured the surface. The soft slate placemats were tucked in the kitchen basin to soak while she gathered the decorations. A simple yellow glossy table runner flooded the centre of the table. Adjourned with three spaced-out pillar candles held up in Clue-style candlesticks.
Just as she finished scrubbing the placemats and drying them, the oven rang yet again. Drying both her hands and the slate, Chloe tried to push the clock button with her elbow. Her body jutted as she rotated to try and become more accurate with her prodding only to tap the button on her third placemat. She felt lightheaded with the release of her sigh, the siren was grating on her eardrums.
But, nonetheless, she left her stack of five slates to the side and opted to focus on Frederick. The soft blast of warm air sent her eyes crinkling. Her face recoiled to the side as she blindly grabbed the baking dish with the tea towel. Her body jolted at the spitting fat, the tray hissing more intensely as she tilted it accidentally. The bird had peaked in its golden appearance, the skin crisped nicely even as she decided to add a glaze. Looking through the cupboard her hands landed on the soy sauce, lemon juice and balsamic vinegar.
She poured dollops into a small bowl, mixing it gently as if it were a science experiment. Her nose burned slightly at the acidic scent that worked its way into her sinuses. Looking towards the glass jars of spices to the right of the oven, she spun it around until she saw both the ginger and the garlic, her hand 'slipping' when adding the seasoning. Chloe nodded as she painted the glaze on top of the duck's breast. Her hands floated like a painter's. Each stroke was as important as the last until the entire canvas was coated.
Looking down at the duck she opted to coat the cut vegetables (minus the mushrooms) into the drip tray below, flipping each segment over until they were all coated evenly. She added a handful of the smallest potatoes she had on hand to the tray also. The duck wound up back onto the mesh above the tray and threw them all into the oven for another 20 minutes.
Enough time, she found, to continue setting the table. She continued to baste the duck every ten minutes after that. The menial task set her heart at ease, until finally, the duck could rest at the side. The skin had remained crispy, even in the darker colour. and from the sight of it, the juices remained inside, even if she didn't know how pink the meat was inside, not that she minded, she could handle it slightly more cooked than others.
She opted to keep the vegetables in the heat of the oven. She knew they would need another half an hour to crisp up but she had been premature when throwing them in to cook. Even when looking at the clock and only seeing the 4 light up at her, she knew she was going to need to cook slightly later.
Which left her with one option left to occupy her time. Getting dressed. She doubted she could attend, nevermind host, a dinner party in her yummy sushi pyjamas. Not that she didn't have the charisma to pull it off without too many questions, but she had been keeping an eye out for the perfect dress for this occasion. A simple sleeveless red dress that wound at her waist, allowing the dress to spin with volume around her legs. She felt like she was the girl on fire, and she rocked it if she did say so herself. Her makeup was 'natural' so it only took an hour to complete. Leaving her just enough time for her guest to arrive as the final plates were dished at 6 o'clock.
She carefully worked in the kitchen. A simple frying pan made it onto the stove, even as the oven was switched back onto high. A simple dollop of butter splattered onto the metal as she added pepper delicately along with teriyaki sauce and Worcester sauce. The finely chopped mushrooms were the next to be combined and sauteed until they had absorbed most of the liquid. Taking the bowl of rice she had cooked the day before from the fridge and poured it into the frying pan which was sprayed generously with butter again. Sizzling filled the air. Her hands were quick to stir the rice around the plentiful space. The grains absorbed what the mushrooms had not. As the rice became heated throughout, she cracked an egg firmly into the mix, frying alongside the rest.
It didn't take long for the eggs to cook throughout the rice, allowing her to take it off the heat and into a serving dish. Chloe inspected the oven-roasted vegetables and decided to allow them another few minutes before patting them dry, so she worked on her side salad. The classic lettuce, tomato and cucumber were all there. Although the cucumber had been peeled as she wasn't the biggest fan of the texture. But she added two raw onions, and a few avocados that she diligently peeled, pitted and sliced. And, as per the recipe's request, she hesitantly mixed in a peeled and sectioned grapefruit. Her face turned in disgust but the more she tossed the salad the more it hid the grapefruit, something she was willing to forget was thrown in there. And for good measure, she decided to coat the bowl in a layer of poppy seed salad dressing.
Just as she dried the vegetables, the clock struck six times. Smiling, she wiped her hands on the tea towel and dragged the bowls through to the table, placing each one with their own serving spoon on their heat mat. The duck was the last to be served. Frederick remained intact as to perform entertainment when she would carve.
The only thing left to serve was the wine she poured into the polished glasses. A light Pinot Noir was the recommended pairing. Or so Google proclaimed. And so she sat at the table, the candles flickering in the centre of her display. And she waited for her guest to walk through the door.
And waited...
And waited...
The candles had long since melted themselves dull. The food grew to an embarrassing temperature. And her bottle of wine had been replaced countless times. Chloe no longer sat at the table. Her body perched on the couch as she understood she would be alone for a while longer.
She wasn't ready to allow her dress to crumple as she sat down, instead, she swept it to the side as she sat fully down on the couch. Her hands tightened around the picture she cherished, her wine glass sat carefully on the glass table in front of her. The picture stared back at her, her own cheerful eyes reflected the tears in her own. The group picture from college. Back in the days, she spoke to the entire Bella group. Not just one or two. She remembered the day that was encapsulated in the still frame. They had won the ICCA final that night. They had won the world champion the next year but it was the first year with the group she loved that held the most space in her heart. The picture was taken by someone in the front row, the stage lights had oversaturated the bottom of the image but the group's smile was rivalling that in its own right.
Chloe hadn't seen Denise since that performance, nor did she remember which girl Ashley was or who Jessica was between the blonde and brunette. But the rest of them stayed in contact for years until Beca won Khalid's competition. They all had decided they couldn't live if they were tethered to each other... all except for her. She pulled herself apart trying to remain in contact with them all but she couldn't. They moved far enough away that time zones became an issue, but she stayed with whom she could. Moving out of Chicago's when she realised she couldn't handle the stress of not knowing if he would come back to her. They remained in touch for a while, but it wasn't fair to either of them and so they decided to part amicably.
Aubrey had moved to the mountains to be a doula, somewhere she hardly received cell reception. She was glad she was following her dream but she couldn't help and miss her friend. Stacie remained herself but being a single mother she was becoming more and more scarce in her communications, any time they did touch it would be interrupted until finally, they stopped trying. Amy had dumped them the moment her money had come through authentically, she stated she needed the time for her boy toys. CR was stuck without a phone as she flew from country to country with the Air Force, not allowing her a chance to speak unless she was on leave. And Lily, or Esther as she goes by now, didn't remember much of her time with the group, opting to go discover herself without 'Satan' possessing her.
Which left Beca.
The woman she followed to LA. She had risen through the chart toppers with ease now that the girl had her big break. And Chloe could not be happier. And who she loved beyond reason. Who, despite the long hours, the cancelled dates and forgotten plans, would bring her flowers and cherish every moment they spent together in person. She was the person she had hoped would remember to walk through the door as she promised at 6 p.m. on the dot.
As she was brought out of her thoughts slightly, she heard the door creak open. The girl in question wandered through the door trudging her feet. Glancing at the clock, Chloe sighed. 10:47. "Where were you?" She tried to keep her voice level, even as it came out as a whisper.
"I'm so sorry, baby."
"Don't." Chloe clenched her eyes shut. "Don't call me baby."
"Bu-"
"You forgot." The silence spoke wonders. "You forgot our anniversary. Again." Looking down at the photo, she drowned out the half-hearted false promises with a simple thought on repeat.
What happened?
