Chapter Text
Clarke didn’t turn up to rehearsals the week after Regionals.
She’d told them on the bus back that she would be taking a step back, but they clearly hadn’t believed her. They pointed out that she hadn’t gone a week without practising since she had been old enough to understand performing, they tried to reason that they’d all made mistakes too, and “besides, most of our critiques were about our pacing, so we would have been ranked the same either way”, but Clarke hadn’t agreed.
She didn’t want to never see her friends, but she didn’t want to encroach on their rehearsal time, so she’d decided that steering clear would be in the best interest for everyone, at least for the next few weeks until she could make a more permanent decision.
Even without Nationals, they usually filled their time hanging out and practicing new songs for their repertoire, dusting them off and perfecting them at social functions at school or around their town. They’d made a bit of a name for themselves as a reliable, fun, and cheap performance act throughout Arkadia, and they did get booked fairly steadily during the summer months. She knew she’d miss spending her summer this way, but no mater what her heart wanted her to do, the stubborn part of her brain was telling her that staying away would be better for them all, in the long run.
So instead, Clarke had told her mum over dinner on Thursday that she was free to do an extra shift shadowing at the hospital on Saturday morning, if that was ok with her. Either Abby hadn’t realised where this free time was suddenly coming from, or she didn’t want to mention it, because she simply gave her daughter a pleased smile and passed her the salt.
It had only been a few days since Regionals, but they hadn’t spoken about the performance. Abby had given her her commiserations that they hadn’t gone through on Sunday night when they had returned home, but otherwise there hadn’t been on mention of the performance, or of Clarke’s faults.
So, when Saturday morning had come around, Clarke had tried to forget that the others would be at rehearsals.
It proved fruitless, however, because when she left the hospital at 2pm and turned her phone on, she had a least two texts from each of them, six missed calls from Raven, and a voicemail from Bellamy.
She scrolled through the texts - mostly a progressing level of confusion and interrogation — and then she listened to the voicemail.
Her and Bellamy hadn’t really had time to talk since they’d come back from Regionals — they’d sunk into a limbo of unspoken agreement not to talk about their relationship.
Things weren’t awkward between them, as such, they were just… polite, careful.
“Hey, Clarke, we’re all here at rehearsals, wondering where you are… We know you said you’d miss a few but we thought you’d be here today… anyway, give me a call when you can, there’s a running of that really bad SyFy movie you like at the theatre house tonight, if you, er- if you want to go anyway, it might not be your thing, or you might not want to... you might be busy? I just thought, y’know, that it would be, might be, could… yeah, er, call me back?”
The line went dead after his awkward stammering. She couldn’t help smiling to herself - he could be so confident, so selfless, and yet he was also the most awkward and nerdy person she’d ever met.
She missed him, and she was sick of the awkward air between them.
Her phone was dialling his number before she could even think twice about it. He answered on the second ring, all concern and sincerity.
“Clarke?”
“Who leaves a voicemail in this day and age, Bellamy,” she deadpanned in greeting.
She could almost feel him rolling his eyes in amusement.
“Where have you been?” He asked kindly. “Everybody’s freaking out that you weren’t at rehearsals.”
“I’m fine,” She tried to sound cheerful. “Sorry I wasn’t there, I’m trying to put in more time at the hospital... you know, for college applications. Are you all doing ok, do you need help decoding my shorthand?”
She wanted to keep the question light and playful, but it felt like she missed the mark a little.
He paused on the other end of the line and she was suddenly certain that she was about to get some trademark Bellamy Blake honesty.
Sure enough, when he spoke his words were soft but still belied some frustration, “Clarke, what are you doing?”
“Right now? I’m walking—“
“With Acapadia,” He clarified, straight to the point. So Bellamy. “We need you if we’re going to do this Wildcard thing—“ She couldn’t help smiling at his cluelessness when it came to terminology. “—and Raven is trying her best but one rehearsal without you has made it pretty clear that we have no idea what we’re doing.”
“You know more than you think,” she said.
Bellamy huffed on the other end of the line, and she heard some shuffling papers as if he was getting up from the desk in his room.
“Where are you?” He asked suddenly. “You know I hate talking like this.”
She grinned at that.
“I’m walking through town, by the park.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I’ll meet you on the corner where the ice-cream truck parks,” He said resolutely, then the line went dead and she was turning to alter her path.
When she caught sight of him on the corner five minutes later, she couldn’t help but feel that odd mixture of excitement and anxiety she always felt around him. Being with him made her feel scared, but it was light and fluttery, it bubbled rather than burnt.
“Hi,” He scratched the back of his head as she came to a stop in front of him. He was wearing an old hoodie even though they were standing in blazing sunshine.
“Hi,” She smiled back, glad to be able to hang out with him outside school and outside acapella.
“Got any plans this evening?” He smiled. His eyes were confident, teasing, but his voice was nervous.
She hitched her bag higher up her shoulder and breathed out a surprised laugh.
“I thought you’d want to grill me about coming back to acapella,” it was a question more than a statement.
He smiled down at her like she was the only thing worth seeing, and took a step forwards so that there was hardly a few inches between them. She could feel his soft breath on her cheek and see the sweat on his brow.
“I don’t want to talk about acapella,” he told her, a smile playing at his eyes but his face serious. “I’m sick of going back and forth all the time. I’m sick of having to organise our lives around other people or school work or college applications. Just for once, just now, I feel like enjoying myself. I want to have some fun and I want to hang out with my girlfriend and forget about everything for a few hours… what about you?”
He'd never called her his girlfriend before, but she found it a welcome change.
She met his gaze and stepped further into him. Her next words were the most honest she’d spoken all day.
“I honestly can’t think of anything better.”
He was flirting, finally acting himself again, and she felt a piece of herself slot back into place in response.
They hadn’t spoken about Raven’s comment at Regionals, or indeed about her avoidance of their relationship or how upset it made him. But he was giving her time.
Bellamy was always the one to follow her lead, to be patient and kind and ask what she needed. She loved that about him - she had always felt comfort and trust around him - but she also recognised that it may be time she start pulling herself out of her comfort zone for the sake of putting him first.
He raised a hand gently to brush away some stray strands of hair from her face.
“Come on,” he said, taking the pile of books out of her hands, “Octavia’s out so we’ve got the place to ourselves until the movie starts.”
“Don’t get any ideas, Blake,” she teased as they turned towards his apartment. He laughed freely and loudly.
Her heart felt lighter.
“You are aware that half these answers you’ve put are just random numbers, right?” Raven said bluntly from her seat at the desk in Clarke’s bedroom.
She glanced up from Clarke’s mock math test and raised one questioning eyebrow.
Clarke hesitated, then shrugged half-heartedly, throwing herself - and Raven’s math work - backwards onto her bed.
“I honestly have no idea.”
They were grading each other’s homework and helping each other study. It was a Monday evening and Abby was out at work. She’d left Clarke to order pizza for dinner, something she hadn’t done in a long time, but which used to be a tradition for Clarke and Raven whenever Abby had to work late at the hospital when they were younger — they’d order pizza, watch movies and pretend they’d done their homework when Abby came home.
The tradition had been modified over the years, but mostly they had progressed to actually doing their homework, instead of just pretending to, as their interest in subjects expanded and the importance of grades for college became more pressing.
They had planned to invite the others over for pizza — Raven had insisted it would be good to get everyone together if Clarke wasn’t going to come to rehearsals any longer. Raven’s anecdotes about rehearsals this week were a welcome distraction from perfecting college applications and grading mock exam papers. They made Clarke laugh, but they also made her realise just how much she missed being included in those moments.
From the increasing frequency of the anecdotes, Clarke suspected that Raven was probably going to try to stage an intervention of sorts if the rest of their friends came over to outnumber her, so she’d convinced Raven just to keep the evening for them two.
It had been a long time since they’d been together, just the two of them, and she intended to enjoy her time with her oldest friend.
Raven threw her paper onto the desk and smacked her fists against it with a frustrated sigh. Clarke suspected her friend was more frustrated with correcting her answers than actually tired of marking.
"This is more tiring than trying to arrange Seasons of Love for eight people."
Clarke gave her a sympathetic look from across the room.
She knew that headache well.
There was a pause as she considered whether to delve into the topic or not. In the end, she couldn’t resist.
"How is it going?" She asked tentatively. "With the Wildcard entry?"
Raven dragged her hand over her face wearily.
"It's... a unique challenge."
"You'll get there," Clarke tried to offer helpfully.
Raven levelled her with a trademark honest stare.
"We'd be doing a lot better if we had you to help.”
Clarke knew her face immediately closed up. She switched her gaze to the evening light filtering through her open window.
"Raven, don't."
"I'm just saying--"
"I'd be in the way."
Raven groaned a guttural noise of frustration. ”You're too stubborn for your own good, Clarke."
Clarke sighed and made to open her mouth to protest, but Raven beat her to it.
"Look, I know the others keep saying we need you… I'll be honest -- we don't. We can do this without you. Despite what they think about my musical abilities, I can arrange it just fine. it won't be perfect, but it'll be something..."
Raven spun in the chair so that she was facing her straight on, and Clarke was forced to meet her stare.
“But that’s not the point, Clarke. We don't need you to babysit us. We can handle these things on our own, trust me. But… we're better with you. We all are. Harper's more daring in her choreography, Murphy turns up on time, Jasper and Monty are more focused. Even I enjoy it more with you there; you hold me accountable to be my best each and every time we go on stage - and everyone knows Bellamy wouldn't have stuck around this long without you. The point is, we don't need you to win this Wildcard entry - but we want you with us."
Her words surprised Clarke so much she didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected or even considered that aspect. She’d been so focused on how much she wanted to leave them be, she hadn’t stopped to think that maybe they didn’t want to be left.
”Raven…”
“Don’t you dare give up on your dream, Clarke,” Raven warned her, but she knew her words were intended as a support.
"That's not what I'm doing Raven.”
"Isn't it? Even Bellamy's said he's seen less of you."
Clarke tried not to bristle at that, or feel embarrassed that they’d all been discussing her whilst she hadn't been around. ”Look, it’s just… maybe my mum's right, maybe I should be focusing on college…”
“What,” Raven rolled her eyes, getting up to cross the room and join Clarke on the bed. “And the rest of us aren't?"
Clarke glared at her. “You know that’s not what I mean…” She sighed. “It's not that easy Raven. It was my fault we lost out at Regionals. I'm supposed to be the one keeping us together, but I can't even trust myself. What if we do get to Nationals and I crumble again."
"What if you don’t?"
It was Clarke’s turn to be frustrated.
She huffed out a, "God you sound like Bellamy,” before she could think better of it.
Raven smirked, but only said, "I sound like everyone. Believe me when I say that nobody is blaming you, Clarke. We all just want you back... and if it’s the workload you're worried about, I'll help. I know I haven’t been very focused before, and we all know that I contributed nothing last year, but all my college applications are in now, I've got some time. And, believe it or not, I enjoy acapella and I’m gonna miss it like hell when this year ends.”
Clarke could feel herself crumbling.
She missed it. Her friends missed her.
Why the hell was she torturing them all like this?
Her mind started to race with possibilities, justifications.
She could give herself a small part in the back, she could arrange the songs and only step in to keep them on track. She didn't need to be a focus or put herself in the middle of it all.
She always felt that she needed to put herself on a pedestal because there was nobody else to take charge, but that wasn't true.
Raven was right - they could do it without her, they had the drive and talent to, but they’d always wanted her to lead them instead.
"If I come back-- and I mean if," Raven was grinning already, so Clarke tried to ignore her. "I'd only arrange the songs, and stand in the back. Harper can plan choreography and you can be in charge of rehearsals.”
Raven smirked wider, and Clarke knew already that they were both thinking the same thing - Raven would follow her lead and Clarke would probably take over rehearsals the minute they stepped back into that auditorium. But at least the support system was there this time - Clarke didn’t need to take it all on, and she could make a conscious decision to step out of the spotlight this time.
"Sounds good to me.”
Although Raven and Bellamy had gone a long way in convincing her that their friends hadn’t blamed her for their failure to advance at Regionals, and although their group chat had been blowing up for the past week as the others begged for her to return, Clarke was still worried that it would only be selfish of her to come back.
But she’d made the decision now, and once she made up her mind she never went back on her word.
At lunch the next day, she approached their table with some trepidation. Her friends weren't angry with her, they weren't blaming her or upset with her, but she still didn't know how they'd react.
They might not like her waltzing back in and taking over again.
"Hi," she opened with, clutching her lunch tray with both hands.
"Clarke!"
"Where have you been?!"
"Thank god."
"Please tell me this means you're coming back to acapella?" Harper pleaded, sounding exhausted.
They had pages and pages of sheet music spread out on the table between them all, their lunches forgotten. From what Clarke could gather there was no rhyme or reason whatsoever to the pieces.
The thought gave her an idea.
"I'd like to," she told them tentatively. "If that's ok with you all? I know I really messed up at Regionals--"
"You're not the only one," Murphy glared across the table at Miller.
"I only kicked you the once!" Miller defended himself. Harper, Monty and Raven exchanged amused looks so Clarke assumed this was an argument they'd had before.
"And hit me in the face!”
"I'll admit I kicked you during Grease Lightning, but there's no way in hell I hit you in the face, Murphy. You don’t even have a black eye!”
They continued to argue until Harper interrupted them, turning her attention back to Clarke.
"Look, you had a bad moment, we get it. We’ve all been there. But you can’t just blame yourself for it all - we weren't faultless either..."
"I tripped so bad at the end of Breathe," Monty supplied in support of Harper’s claim, wincing at the memory.
"And I forgot my backflip at the bridge to Grease Lightning," Harper continued. "My point is, we weren't all flawless and we got the score we deserved. You can't blame yourself for being the sole reason we didn't advance. And we don't blame you either."
Clarke glanced around at her friends and was filled with love for them all. They always had her back and they wanted her back no matter what.
Bellamy got up and pulled out a chair for Clarke to sit in. Finally, she didn’t hesitate. She took the seat between them gratefully.
“What is all this?” Clarke asked them, pointing towards the music adorning the tabletop.
“Potential Wildcard setlist,” Bellamy said, gesturing with his fork.
He was wearing his glasses, she noticed, so they must have really been deep in discussion when she’d arrived. He only wore them to read or when he was deep in concentration on a paper or test.
“To be honest, we’re a bit lost.”
Clarke glanced around at her friends in confusion.
"Raven said you were managing ok?”
Raven, ever relaxed, was focusing on eating as much of her lunch as possible but said proudly around a mouthful of salad, "I lied. We suck without you.”
The others all nodded in agreement and looked rather downcast.
“You’d think that with this much choice in front of us, we’d have figured it out by now,” Monty sighed, gesturing again at the papers in front of them.
“I think that’s your problem,” Clarke supplied slowly, moving some of the papers around. “You haven’t decided what you want the set to say, you’re just looking for a needle in a haystack right now.”
“It would help if you didn’t always veto all my suggestions,” Murphy grumbled from Bellamy’s left.
“Your suggestions suck, Murphy.”
He looked offended, and Clarke wasn’t sure if he actually might have been, at least a little. “Bonnie & Clyde is a staple in the musical theatre community, you just don’t have taste.”
“Hey!”
“If anybody gets a veto on a musical, it’s got to be Newsies, come on!”
“Will you shut up about that damn show, Jasper.”
“Never!”
“Nobody is going to care about Newsies, or Bonnie & Clyde - we should stick to classics, like Les Mis or Rent.”
“What about movie musicals? Like Singing In The Rain, or Top Hat? We shouldn’t limit ourselves to just Andrew Lloyd Webber.”
Raven and Clarke exchanged a meaningful look whilst the argument raged on.
“Alright delinquents,” Raven spoke up, quieting them all. “We need some order to this rabble or we’re just gonna be a ragtag group of teenagers singing over one another.”
“Actually—“ Clarke couldn’t stop the words from leaving her mouth or the excited smile from playing at her lips. “I have an idea.”
Raven clocked her expression immediately and, true to form, her brain caught up quicker than the others could. She slammed both hands down on the table in front of her as Harper and Monty exchanged looks and Jasper dropped his cutlery in surprise.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I'm saying we should combine our favourite parts of musicals in acapella form to show the ICCAs what we're all about."
“So..." Raven prompted excitedly.
Clarke exchanged a long look with Bellamy, who rolled his eyes in amusement. He also knew what she was going to say.
"Yes, Raven," Clarke sighed, but she was trying not to laugh. “I never thought I’d say this, but… I think we should do a mash-up."