FromTumblr: Thank you. If I could afford to write all day, I would.
Pixie1913: You are correct - she does not know it was her.
Mscollywogs: She doesn't know it was Chloe's mom.
RJRMovieFan: I do watch Perfect Harmony, yes.
96itadakimasu96: Yes, I do want to make you cry.
Malexfaith: I don't want you to figure it out until the end, and then I want you to be like, "I should have figured it out."
Guest (with all the theories): That is a lot of words all at once. All I can say is, no, Julia/Jillian was not a typo. If you reread Aubrey and Jillian talking about being formal and her name, it should make sense.
SunDanceQT: Thanks!
Guest: Thank you!
Vickstik: I was in awe on Space Mountain.
Arrhythmia
Five days after black and red collide,
The motion sickness past,
I'll be the first to stand.
Behind that weathered door,
I thought it would be safest.
My head is dizzy now;
I thought we'd overcome.
We might not make it home tonight.
- Barcelona
"If you could visit anywhere – where would it be?" Aubrey asks.
Beca lets out a slow breath that puffs out her cheeks. "I don't know. I kind of want to go everywhere," she answers, "Maybe Europe, because you can get on a train and literally just go all over. Also, Adam Levine's bed?"
Aubrey is about to give her a look of disgust, but then she changes her mind – because, yeah, she can get behind that.
"You?" Beca asks.
"Dollywood." Hawaii doesn't seem so appealing anymore. Aubrey is sure it's beautiful, but she never wants to set foot on an island again. She wants to go somewhere that means something to her.
"You can have sex with any celebrity – who is it?" Beca asks.
Aubrey furrows her brows. "I don't know."
"There has to be one, Aubrey," Beca says, "Just pick someone you think is cute. Would it be Jason Mraz?"
"Do they have to be alive?" Aubrey asks.
Beca's eyebrows shoot up.
"That didn't come out right."
"Yes, please pick somebody from this century," Beca says.
Aubrey sighs. "I'll fight you for Adam Levine."
Beca clutches her chest. "Dude, you're going to take my future husband?"
"You took my future wife."
"Okay, so you're having sex with Adam Levine," Beca propels the conversation forward quickly, "I think I'd pick – I don't know now. You just crushed my imaginary life."
Well, you crushed my real one. "Just pick somebody. You're the one who asked the question."
"I need a few years to find myself now."
Aubrey rolls her eyes.
"I think I would fulfill my childhood dream of all three Jonas brothers," Beca states.
That is definitely not what Aubrey was expecting. She tries to imagine Beca going through that phase, and, if not for the circumstances, it would be kind of hilarious. "Gross."
"Not at the same time! Separately."
That isn't what Aubrey meant. She had never gone through the phase herself – but most people she knew had, and, just, no. But since Beca went there… "So would the others just sit back and watch while they waited their turn?"
"I don't know what you and Sigma Beta Theta were into, but-"
Aubrey jams her elbow into Beca's side.
"I was kidding." Beca rubs her side. She follows it up with, "You really believed I liked the Jonas Brothers, Aubrey?"
"Beca?"
Beca looks at her.
"I hate you."
xxxxx
The day after Aubrey returned home from Disneyworld there was a knock on the front door, and, for the briefest of moment, she thought it might be Jillian. She leapt up from her desk chair and ran to the stairway – peering down over the railing as her father opened the door. It wasn't her. It was one of her father's friends who worked for the McLean Police Department and a woman she didn't know. She walked back into her room and collapsed into her chair with a pout. It was ridiculous to think that this woman would travel all the way from Florida to Virginia for Aubrey.
She picked her book back up and continued reading.
The conversation downstairs became heated.
Aubrey's father didn't usually fight with his friends.
It wasn't Aubrey's business.
But it was so hard to concentrate.
She placed her bookmark inside her book, then stood back up and slowly crept into the hallway with it. She crouched down beside the rail and listened. He wasn't fighting with them. He was just angry.
"She doesn't seem like the type to let up," the woman said, "She's going to keep calling. She has a record of persistency."
"If she does keep calling," James said, "Tell her she better hire a damn good lawyer."
Aubrey dropped her book through the spaces in the rail. No. It hit the floor below, and all three of them looked up. She froze.
Her father's friend picked up the book and looked it over. "Watership Down. That's an intense book."
Aubrey nodded. She was as good as dead.
He turned and climbed up the stairs, handing it down to her. "How are you, Aubrey?"
Aubrey quickly stood up to shake his hand. "Good, Sir, yourself?"
"Good," he said, "I'm great. Enjoy your book. Stay in school."
That's what people said when they didn't know what to say to kids.
He gave her a wave goodbye, then walked back down the stairs.
"Go to your room," James said, "This is an adult conversation."
"We're talking about Telemarketers," his friend said, "You don't want to hear about that."
Sure, she did, but Aubrey knew it wasn't an option. She turned and walked swiftly back to her room, pulling her dictionary off her shelf. T. T. T. Telemarketing!
'Selling or advertising by telephone.'
Oh, yeah, her father hated those people.
She sat there waiting, spending the entire evening staring at her book, knowing it was only a matter of time before his friends left and he came storming up the stairs. Only – it never happened. She was too relieved to address the confusion.
xxxxx
Aubrey is hyperaware that she's covered in mud, and she's convinced she smells like pee. It shouldn't matter – not right now. But, instead, it matters even more than it would under normal circumstances. It takes an extreme amount of self-control not to crawl back out into the rain in a desperate attempt to feel clean.
She can't think of any more questions.
"I think it's letting up again," Beca says.
It does sound that way. It's a little bit of a relief – but they're still drenched, and it's still too dark to see. They might be here for awhile. Aubrey shifts around, trying to find a more comfortable position.
"I also think there is a rock trying to crawl up my ass right now," Beca announces and lifts her butt, brushing her hand against the ground underneath herself.
There are pieces of tree stabbing Aubrey in the thigh no matter how she adjusts herself. She can't just live with it when everything already hurts so fucking bad.
"Here," Beca says, struggling to turn herself sideways, and Aubrey has no idea what she's trying to do, "I can lean back on this side." She keeps her leg closest to the tree bent, wedging it behind Aubrey's back, and straightens her other leg out into the rain, propped up over one of their bags.
It gives Aubrey some space to scoot away from everything jabbing her.
Beca leans forward until her arms are completely around Aubrey, then reclines back, pulling Aubrey down sideways against her. "Do you really feel that bad?" she asks when there's no struggle.
Aubrey is still. She feels too sick, too exhausted to put up a fight – especially when she knows she needs the energy just to survive. She lets herself be dead weight against her – and just stares out into the darkness. Even not moving, her body feels like a piñata being repeatedly hit with a metal bat. But that's the point, isn't it? Keep swinging, weaken her until she completely breaks – until she's on the ground, dead.
xxxxx
Aubrey thought that the highlight of her first day of fourth grade would be telling everyone she went to Disneyworld. But it wasn't. No one cared about how It's A Small World came to exist as much as Aubrey did – and someone let out a huge yawn as she was trying to tell them about the New York World's Fair. Whatever. It was fine. Because Aubrey's class had music on the first day of school – and that turned the day around.
Her teacher handed out a homework assignment that made everyone groan complaints – everyone except Aubrey as she read what it said.
'Listen to a genre of music you don't often listen to, and explain why you do or don't like it.'
This was it. This was her opportunity to experience the Barden Bellas - and more A Capella.
xxxxx
They could probably still be out there if Aubrey hadn't lost the flashlight.
Maybe they would have found Chloe by now.
But they're just sitting here, useless.
Aubrey twirls Chloe's ring around her finger.
Aubrey has always been pretty much a letdown to people in general – but to let Chloe down? She'd let the whole rest of the world down first.
"Is this okay?" Beca asks.
Aubrey realizes Beca is rubbing her back. She nods. If Chloe was here right now, she'd be playing with Aubrey's hair. But she isn't here.
"You feel like literal ice," Beca tells her, sliding her hand under the back of Aubrey's shirt, touching her bare skin.
"You're cold too," Aubrey mumbles.
"I'm like forgot my jacket and got caught in the rain cold," Beca says, "You're like if Antarctica was a person."
Aubrey doesn't feel like saying anything else – so she just nods again. She doesn't know why she's so cold, and it isn't like they can do anything about it. None of the survival skills her father taught her meant to keep her warm and sheltered apply in this sort of situation. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this. She wraps her arms around herself, subconsciously trying to warm herself up now that Beca has pointed out she's freezing.
"Do you think you're sick?" Beca asks, "It seems like you've been throwing up a lot and-"
"I'm not sick." Aubrey knows her body well enough to know when stress is making her sick and when she's actually ill. They feel completely different. This is all stress (and injury) – and, for some reason, she's just really cold too. "I'm just…scared for Chloe. We're in here, and she's out there."
"We're doing our best," Beca tells her, "It's dark out there. We don't even know where we are right now."
"It's not enough."
"There is nothing else we can do right now, Aubrey," Beca replied, "Literally nothing."
Aubrey is sick of sniffling, and she's already absolutely disgusting, so she wipes her nose on her sleeve. "If-"
"There is no if," Beca cuts her off, "There's no if."
There are many ifs, one being if Aubrey could just stop feeling nauseous – which isn't getting any easier to tolerate with Beca trying to convince her leaving Chloe out there is acceptable. "Shut up." She slowly sits up. "I'm going back out." It's only drizzling now.
"How are we going to see?" Beca asks.
"I don't know." Aubrey stares forward into what looks like a black hole. It sure feels like a black hole. "I'll figure it out."
xxxxx
Aubrey ate, slept, and breathed A Capella from the very moment she watched her first video of The Barden Bellas - in their perfectly uniformed outfits, singing a cover of I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me). It made it even better (although slightly worse) when the army sent her father to Florida, and the family couldn't go with him. She had been only slightly devastated, but she could use the computer whenever she wanted, and in every spare moment she had, she was watching videos and practicing her way to perfection.
A Capella was made of routine and organization. The outfits were all planned out. The dances were tightly choreographed. Especially with The Bellas. There was no room for surprises – and that was comforting to Aubrey. There was so much order. And they all looked so…happy. It was everything she never knew she dreamed of.