Chapter Text
It can’t be 2012.
Like, it cannot be. This is one of those batshit crazy plot twists in those stupid fucking parallel universe type time travel movies Jesse’s obsessed with. But, this isn’t real life. These things don’t happen.
Beca’s nothing if not a realist, and this isn’t reality.
Reality is that it’s 2023, Chloe is engaged to the fucking love of her life (apparently), and Beca may have just ended their friendship in an alley on the side of Empire State South. And yet, here she is, staring at Kimmy Jin’s empty bed across the room still trying to shake off the initial shock.
She’s tried everything - pinched herself, splashed water, held the pillow over her face for a few minutes - but the dorm has yet to turn back into her Atlanta apartment.
Is it at all possible that the last decade of her life was the real dream? Did she just dream up the future due to first day of college anxiety? But that can’t be true - can it?
Instead of sitting here in disbelief all day, Beca barrels out of bed, flicking through drawers to find a tank top and purple plaid shirt which she rolls her eyes at because she’s almost thirty and she doesn’t dress like this anymore, at least not typically. There’s not really time to be picky though, and she reminds herself that if this is real then she has to be college-Beca right now, not semi-functional adult-Beca.
So, she rolls the sleeves up to her elbows, runs some extra eyeliner along her water line, and slips on black boots that she can remember wearing to her audition for the Bellas - but then, that hasn’t happened yet.
If she even believes that she’s in this weird alternate timeline space.
Which she does not.
But, if she did, then no, no audition yet. This means no Jesse, no Aubrey, no Chloe - except wait - she would’ve met Chloe and Aubrey at the activities fair.
Not that anyone is even going to believe this story - it seems like she’s basically living that bullshit Groundhog Day movie that she hated every second of because it was so fucking implausible. And, it’s not like when she’d met Chloe that day at the activities fair she even made any sort of good impression, not enough that they’re friends at this stage in the game. Beca effectively has no one in this alternate timeline of her freshman year of college, doesn’t even know why she’s here or why this is happening - which it isn’t actually happening - but say that it was, there has to be a reason.
Those stupid fucking movies always have a reason for sending someone back in time - some lesson to learn, some moment to fix, some plot to undo.
The question is - what’s Beca’s reason for existing in 2012 again?
She spends hours roaming Barden’s campus, it’s weird, but with so many years between now (real now, not fake now) and then, she realizes how much she’s actually missed college. And, it’s with a heavy nostalgia that she gets an iced coffee from the cart outside the science building, almost moaning at the extra sugar that she can’t order anymore because it all goes to your ass when you’re almost thirty. But, hey, if she’s eighteen-year-old Beca, then she’s damn sure going to enjoy the perks of being a decade younger than she is now, or well, in 2023.
Whatever.
When she’d actually lived this day she can vaguely remember being a surly, broody freshman - too much eyeliner with equal parts snark and general hate for the population. But now, at twenty-nine, she wonders why she spent those early years being angry and miserable - and why it took a certain redhead to make her open up in ways she could’ve never imagined.
Chloe.
Chloe made college tolerable, enjoyable even. Chloe is the main reason she misses Barden, the Bellas are a very close second, but Beca can’t pretend like she doesn’t see visions of her time spent with Chloe everywhere. Afternoons spent on the quad going over homework, sunsets hanging on the steps of the library with milkshakes discussing sets for Worlds, seeking advice for arguments with Jesse, and future plans like the future was something so far away it was never going to touch them.
Beca remembers feeling invincible in the next three years she spent at Barden, remembers wondering why she’d fought so hard to not come here, remembers looking at Chloe sitting on the couch one night and knowing she was at least fifty percent of the reason she didn’t flee to LA sophomore year. She shakes her head, taking another sip of the iced coffee, wondering not for the first time in the last two days how the hell she didn’t know she’d been in love with Chloe all this time, all those years.
Going to LA after giving her dad a year of college had always been the dream, it was the plan, and (old) Beca didn’t deviate from her life plans, not after her parent’s divorce had sent her spiraling, grasping at straws for some sort of stability in her life. She’d deviated for Chloe, she’d stayed for Chloe, and she hadn’t even known why when the time came to re-enroll or go.
Chloe wiggled her way into Beca’s life without a second thought and Beca had just let her. And she’d never even thought to ask herself why because it was the first time she’d really started to depend on having someone that was just there, no questions asked. It was the first time she’d had a best friend, and so anything further was never examined because she knew she wanted Chloe in her life - to question further would just jeopardize a fragile thread.
Looking at her watch she realizes she’s late to meet Jesse at the station, she can’t help the smile that forms when she thinks of the months of effort he put in when they first met, trying so desperately to do what Chloe managed in five minutes in the co-ed bathrooms. Jesse’s a great friend, an even better friend in her version of the future, but meeting him veers her life in a certain… direction, and she frowns when she realizes that maybe the version of the future she’s shooting for may not have a place for him.
It’s a few minutes of internal debate, as she stands across the street from the station staring at the door, warring with herself over whether or not to go in. Jesse walks in, and part of Beca aches to run in and explain this entire fucked up situation because he’s seen enough movies - maybe he’d believe she’s some time traveling weirdo from 2023 sent to fix her own mistakes.
Right.
Instead, she throws the empty cup of ice in the trash, turns away from the front door and hopes this doesn’t change too much. She’s seen that stupid movie The Butterfly Effect (again, Jesse) and Back to the Future - already knows that that the smallest change can change everything about the present day, but meeting Jesse was like taking the wrong path at a fork in the road, and she’s decided to use this weird fucking lucid dream, or whatever, to try to set things right with Chloe. If Jesse is a loss in this whole thing - maybe it’s worth what the future could’ve been.
The rest of the day is consumed by her mixes, she relishes actually having the time to do this because time isn’t something that comes freely as a producer in the Atlanta music scene. At least not this kind of leisurely time she used to have. She thinks again about not meeting Jesse earlier and how she wasn’t lying when she told Chloe that he’s basically her best friend. He was the first person she admitted anything to when it came to Chloe, and he’d been exactly what she’d needed - pulled her into a Jesse-sized hug and told her he’d get her through this, but not to be so certain her feelings aren't reciprocated - because he’s Jesse, the eternal fucking optimist. Beca recalls grunting into his chest that Chloe was “fucking engaged” and they’d just bought a wedding dress so none of that really mattered.
It still doesn’t matter, she reminds herself, dozing off.
Her dad barges in the next afternoon, badgering her about Intro to Philosophy, and she takes a minute to take in his appearance and how fucking young he looks. She hadn’t realized how much he aged over the last ten years but it’s apparent now, staring at his face full of frustration.
“Look, honey, college is…” he trails off, finding words, “it’s great. You get to create memories here. I see it everyday, you just have to give it a chance.” It’s deja vu as she’s digging through her closet because she remembers this moment so clearly. “You’ve been here what - a month now? Do you have any friends?”
“Kimmy Jin is my friend,” she returns on autopilot, almost like it actually is 2012, the dripping sarcasm comes so easily.
“Nope,” is all Kimmy Jin says immediately. Beca glances at her, betrayal written all over her face, as if anything about this exchange was going to be different. She realizes almost immediately that if anything about her exchanges with the people in this timeline are going to be different then she needs to make sure she picks and choose her battles here. Too big of a change can alter things far too drastically - and she likes most of her life - the only thing she really wants to change is who Chloe ends up with ten years from this moment in time. So, this moment with her dad does set things in motion, it’s what prompts her to settle for some lame ass acapella group as her version of ‘joining in,’ so she just follows the script and saves her big changes for the moments she’s already anticipating reliving.
On the way to the showers, which are a disgusting, but vital part of this journey, she recognizes there are certain moments that have to happen to bring Chloe into her life, that bring them into each other’s orbits in a real way, but she can admit these first days feel lonelier than she remembered when she’s so used to being Beca that has a group of friends that have had her back for years now. It’s hard to not have friends - no wonder I was so fucking miserable.
‘Titanium’ flies out of her mouth, and she’s already grinning when she hears the shower curtain because she knows what’s coming. Last time this happened Beca remembers wanting to die of awkward, and yeah, that feeling is definitely still there, but it feels like some weird out of body experience doing this a second time.
“You can sing!” she flips around in mock outrage, trying desperately to keep her eyes up and away from - well, everything else.
“Dude!” Beca tries for the curtain, barely concealing a smirk at the deja vu, and then Chloe’s flinging the curtain back again.
And this is her Chloe - the one that wasn’t engaged, that was constantly flirting with Beca’s oblivious self. This is the Chloe that Beca probably first fell in love with even if she was too stupid to call it out for what it was - it’s coloring all she sees now, those bright blue eyes wide with excitement. “How high does your belt go?”
“My what? Oh my god,” she’s exasperated, but Chloe’s already turning off the shower, determination all over her face when she says, “You have to audition for the Bellas.”
“I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying until you cover your junk,” that’s not a lie. Beca is holed up in the corner of the shower, maybe letting herself look just a little because it’s Chloe and she’s just standing there naked in the shower and she half wonders if kissing her right now would right all of the wrongs that got them to Chloe’s engagement party, half wonders how her stupid fucking eighteen-year-old self resisted when Chloe’s been checking her out the entire time - Beca belatedly realizes she’s always been this fucking shameless, it’s just something she missed the first time around.
“Just consider it. One time, we sang backup for Prince. His butt is so tiny that I can hold it with like, one hand.” Chloe says it with such conviction she almost laughs because this version of her was such a unique weirdo and she’d felt drawn to her from the very beginning. She barely restrains herself from frowning when she realizes how much of this Chloe loses as they get older and Beca partly wonders if that’s her fault at all. If by constantly rebuffing her advances, and treating her like the flirting is all completely one sided, if Chloe felt like she was just too much, turning herself down to a level that Beca could handle, because clearly this version of her best friend doesn’t make it to 2023.
Instead of spinning around in some show of modesty she looks Chloe in the eye, says, “Are we seriously having this conversation right now? I’m nude.”
“You were singing ‘Titanium’ right?” she’s quick to answer Beca, the naked thing never did bother her anyway, still doesn’t, Beca thinks remembering numerous incidents over the years that follow this moment.
“You know David Guetta?” she shoots back and still pauses for a beat, knows it’s probably the first moment she let Chloe sneak past some of her defenses. It’s the first moment she’d dropped the snark, and attitude, and looked at this girl like she might have something beyond this stupid acapella thing she was being hounded for.
“Have I been living under a rock? Yeah. That song is my jam,” there’s a few shoulder shrugs and then Chloe leans in a little further, “my lady jam,” it flusters Beca just as much as it did ten years ago, despite how expected it is as the scene plays out.
“That’s nice,” she barely manages, turning away just to keep it together, all pretenses of confidence crumbling under the lack of personal space.
“It is. Song really builds,” Chloe has the audacity to wink and Beca presses her lips together to keep from turning around and throwing herself into Chloe’s arms. She’s missed this. This stupid banter, these conversations where Chloe was just so utterly herself that Beca’s certain there’s no one in the world like her. There can’t be. And she swallows back the emotion of knowing their friendship in the here and now is dangling by a thread, left behind in a restaurant in Atlanta where Chloe’s certainly still standing with Scott and Aubrey and all their other friends trying to maintain some sense of normal.
“Gross,” Beca finally answers, like she knows she’s supposed to.
“Can you sing it for me?”
“Dude, no! Get out!” because somehow, this still seems outrageous ten years after the fact, even though she knows she’s going to cave, already knows the look that will make her concede.
“Not for that reason,” Chloe assures her. “I’m not leaving here until you sing. So.”
Chloe’s stubborn, Beca’s always known it, she stubbornly didn’t give up on putting herself out there for Beca for years. It was probably right up until she met Scott, and even then Beca knows that the gazes would linger a little too long, the hugs lasting seconds more than they should’ve. There were still nights after Scott that Chloe would sleep over for no real reason, and Beca would wake up in her arms - so, yeah, she knew this was a little out of the realm of normal, at least for how she was in all her other friendships.
It’s been a point of teasing at every Bella gathering - that Beca let Chloe do things she didn’t allow anybody else. Fat Amy’s texts of BUT WHAT ABOUT BLOE?! In the group chat when Chloe announced their engagement had made Beca feel awkward, blushing alone on her couch, slice of pizza in hand.
An impatient sigh makes Beca look up, eyes flicking around for a few moments before she starts singing, unable to look away when Chloe starts in with, “Fire away, fire away-” and she struggles to keep the smile off her face as they harmonize, holding eye contact. The intimacy of it was lost on eighteen-year-old Beca, but it isn’t lost on her now. Chloe’s smile is like the sun, she can’t help but return it, eyes dropping and then flicking to the ceiling when she realizes exactly what she’s doing.
“Oh, yeah,” Chloe looks down, mouth pulling to the side. “I’m pretty confident about…” her shoulders shimmy, Beca snorts. “All this.”
“You should be,” nodding as she says it, because duh. She takes an extra second to let her eyes look up and down at this girl she’s come to know so well before Tom interrupts the moment with, “You have a lovely voice,” and the bubble bursts.
Chloe goes to walk out but she takes this as a second to try something new, just because she can. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’ll, uh, be at auditions - if that’s what you want,” she tries to emphasize that she’s doing it for Chloe, to make her intentions known, but damn she still sucks at flirting, none of that’s improved in the years that followed.
“Great! Can’t wait to see what you’ve got,” Chloe winks again, heading out to Tom and Beca frowns.
There’s still time.
So auditions come, Chloe beams at her through the entire performance with the stupid cup, Beca only just manages to keep a beat because of those damn blue eyes and she just can’t even believe this is all happening again. In fact, Beca’s fucking embarrassed knowing she practically ran to the auditorium, not even bothering to be late, because she’s realizing this timeline can play out however the fuck she wants it to, she doesn’t really have to follow the script perfectly.
There’s initiation, a pledge, Aubrey making them vow to stay away from the Treblemakers, and Beca almost laughs because Aubrey is gonna freak when she has to change the pledge for them to stay away from fellow Bellas. She waits for the inevitable, breathless, “Hi!” as Chloe grabs her wrists, says, “I’m so glad that I met you,” and Beca’s smiling with all her teeth, realizes the perfume smells the same, and almost chuckles because of course this girl’s been using the same perfume for a fucking decade.
Chloe pulls her even closer, “I think that we’re gonna be really fast friends.”
“Yeah,” she basically squeaks out because her heart’s about to explode, but she reels it in and manages, “Well, you saw me naked, so,” and winks for posterity because she still thinks this is one of her finer moments in the linear history of her flirting abilities.
Blue eyes stare straight into hers, and really, how is it that no one thought this was weird the first time around? Beca’s smiling back like a full fledged moron and she knows it, flinching when Chloe says, “Alright, I’m gonna go get a drink-”
“Wait!”
Chloe turns expectantly, eyebrows quirked in curiosity, “I’m - Can I come?”
“Of course! Let’s do this,” she fucking giggles, takes Beca by the hand, and finds them both red solo cups that smell like cheap liquor and bad decisions.
“What is this?”
“Jiggle juice,” Chloe supplies with a straight face, only breaking to laugh when Beca stares at her in confusion. “It’s something with whiskey I think?”
Her nose crinkles. “I like whiskey, this smells like garbage-”
“Big drinker at eighteen, Bec?”
“I, uh, well - high school was rough,” she manages, frowning at how lame she sounds. Chloe laughs anyway, a smirk forming as her eyes roam over Beca a few times. It’s like Beca forgot what it was to have her best friend’s attention like this and she tries to will away the blush she can feel crawling up her neck. “What’s your poison anyway?”
“Anything that’s gonna guarantee a good time,” Chloe says quickly, throwing a shit eating grin over her shoulder at Beca.
“Jesus,” she mumbles, taking a sip, wincing at the burn - it definitely ain’t Jack Daniels. “This is-”
“It doesn’t taste so bad after you’ve had a few.”
“And how many have you had?” Beca bites back, grinning when the girl across from her looks impressed at the comeback.
“Not enough for it to taste good,” Chloe admits with a laugh as she takes a sip. “Your audition was something else.”
Beca almost spits out what she just drank, attempts composure, and stutters out, “You think?”
“Oh, yeah,” there’s a nod followed by Chloe taking a step into her space, not quite as close as before. “I know Aubrey can be a little… controlling-”
“A little?!”
“Okay,” her smile is mischievous as she leans to whisper the next part in Beca’s ear. “Maybe a lot controlling, but let’s keep that between me and you.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, obviously. You guys are close, I’d never like, wanna fuck that up.”
“She’s my best friend,” Chloe admits, taking a step back, and Beca simmers in barely controlled jealousy, reminds herself they aren’t there yet. “And she means well. We’re seniors and this is everything we’ve been working for - she just wants to win.”
“And what about you?” she turns to Chloe, only now noticing they’ve stepped away from the crowd to be able to talk. “What do you want?”
It’s a loaded question, she doesn’t even realize until it’s floating in the air between them. It could be answered a million different ways, but there’s no way it doesn’t sound like Beca is flirting and she blinks a few times, staring hard at Chloe, because maybe this is the moment it all changes.
Chloe, to her credit, never wavers, says, “You already know the answer to that,” and laughs into her plastic cup as Beca sputters and almost drops her own. “I want to win at the ICCA’s, Beca, geez what did you think I was referring to?”
“Ah, right,” Chloe’s still laughing, like there’s some inside joke only she was privy to. Beca wipes her chin with the back of her hand, “Totally what I thought you meant.”
“Totes,” she teases, leaning in just slightly. Beca can’t breathe. And she doesn’t know what compels her, just knows the next thing she feels is her lips against Chloe’s, and that they’re warm and taste like lip gloss and cheap whiskey. When she pulls back she finds amusement dancing in dark eyes and Beca knows Chloe’s never looked at her quite like this. “You’ve got some surprises up your sleeves, huh, Mitchell?”
It’s somehow nothing like Beca imagined it be, the blue eyes across from her speak of kindness and intrigue and definitely lust, but they speak nothing of what she’s become so accustomed to over the years. There’s no history there, there isn’t years of affection built over all the moments they spent together, and there certainly isn’t that fond look she’s so used to being directed at her from across a crowded room.
“Something like that,” she mumbles back, ducking her head for lack of a better response. Chloe kisses her the second time and it’s easy to respond, easy to let her lips be coerced into kiss after kiss, easy to let hormones and feelings take over as she sinks into easy movements and a certain finesse she always expected Chloe would have.
She feels her stomach clench when Chloe’s hands are suddenly in her hair, and yeah, this feels incomparable to any other person she’s ever kissed, but this isn’t what Beca wanted. She wants their memories, she wants Chloe to kiss her because they spent the day running practices and finishing each other’s sentences, she wants things that don’t exist yet because Chloe barely knows her in the here and now. This is lust, and Beca is totally sure she’s in love with her best friend - but this isn’t her best friend, and this isn’t love - not yet, anyway.
But, Chloe’s tongue is doing things that Beca can’t fathom, and her thoughts are foggy from a few drinks, and even if she just figured out her feelings fairly recently she won’t act like this hasn’t felt like a long time coming - at least on her end. It’s why she pulls at the back of Chloe’s neck, tugs her in harder and smirks at the whimper it elicits. And when “come back to my dorm with me,” is whispered into the air between them she finds herself nodding yes, because what if this is the only chance she really gets?
‘I miss you like hell, I miss you like hell, and I don’t know what to do about it-’ startles Beca from sleep, she groans at the sound, but bolts up, rubs her eyes, and shakes her head because what kind of fucking whiskey was she drinking to manage that weird ass dream?! Her iPhone says it’s September 1st, which means a day has elapsed since the engagement party. She lets out a sigh and decides to text Jesse, but once again he isn’t where he’s supposed to be in her contacts.
Janine Conway
Jared James
Joseph McGuckin
He should be right there, third under the list of J’s - Beca’s eyes narrow as she flicks up to C and doesn’t find Chloe either, but oddly enough by the next swipe she sees Aubrey Posen and hits ‘call’ without thinking about how any of this is going to sound to Aubrey of all people.
“Beca.”
“Aubrey, hey,” she begins, a little flustered and without a plan. “I, uh, hi. I’m having the weirdest day -”
“It’s nine thirty in the morning, Beca. You’re not even usually awake at this time.”
“Right, um, I guess I was just calling to see how the rest of the engagement party went?”
“Is there a reason that you’re asking?” she can imagine Aubrey’s poised facial expressions without needing to see her at all, already knows her eyebrows are slightly furrowed and that she most likely has the phone hoisted between her shoulder and cheek while she tries to multitask. “Beca?”
“Well, I left early-”
“You were never there to leave early,” Aubrey cuts her off abruptly, leaving Beca in an altered state of confusion.
“Of course I was there,” she tries again, to no avail.
“Mm, no, Beca, you weren’t. Chloe never would’ve invited you, you two haven’t spoken since she graduated.”
The phone fumbles between unsteady hands, “Wait, what?”
“Did you hit your head this morning? Is everything okay? I mean it’s not like this isn’t common knowledge.”
Beca pauses, inhales, and glances around at her room - her room that looks a lot like her room, but is missing bits and pieces she failed to notice before. “Can I ask you something weird?” she never waits for a response. “What year is it?”
“It’s 2023,” Aubrey’s short and precise, straight to the point, and obviously has no time for this. “Chloe graduated in 2013, the year after me, I don’t know why you’re acting like you don’t know all of this. You were there.”
“Well, yeah, obviously,” Beca picks at her cuticles, glancing at all the missing pictures that adorn her room, red hair usually peaking out in each one. “I’m - yeah, sorry to uh, bother you. I just - anyway, can you maybe tell her I said hey?”
“No, I will not, Beca Mitchell. I think you did enough damage ten years ago playing games with Chloe -”
“-games?”
“You toyed with her feelings. Do not play stupid with me. I saw it with my own eyes. From your - illicit hook up on hood night, after I asked you precisely not to do anything of the kind. To defiling the piano after rehearsals. It was just,” Aubrey takes a deep breath over the phone, clearly looking for the right way to lay into Beca. “Unprofessional,” is what she settles on, Beca rolls her eyes because it’s really the least insulting thing anyone’s ever said to her anyway. “She wanted a relationship, you knew exactly what she wanted, but you’re just so - I’ve never seen anyone so closed off from the outside world. Chloe’s happy, please leave her be, and the next time you contact me I will be pretending this conversation did not occur. Have a good morning, Beca.”
The Atlanta summer sun is something to be reckoned with, it always is, but it feels hotter today while Beca’s waiting on an Uber she confirmed minutes before. A navy Chevy Cobalt pulls up at the curb, and Aidan waves at her to take her place in the backseat, she just sighs and rattles off the address to Empire State South as she gets settled for the ride. Her t shirt sticks to her back from the humidity and the seatbelt feels just a little more constricting than usual while she tries to recall memories she’s not even sure she has access to.
Aubrey said Chloe had wanted her - Chloe had wanted a real relationship, and in whatever version of the past that just occurred Beca screwed it up. Again. Her fingers get caught in a few tangles as she skims calloused hands through her hair in frustration. This was supposed to be the chance she got right, it doesn’t really make sense, she’d kissed Chloe pretty much from the beginning, but Beca also can’t account for the ten years she didn’t really live through, only has access to the one night she got to change.
“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs, unclipping the seatbelt as the Uber pulls up the curb. Her driver stares a little harder, like she told him he wouldn’t be getting five stars at the end. “Sorry, not you, just - whatever.” He just nods and speeds off.
Prick.
She wanders over towards the bar at the back, eyebrows raised when she sees the same bartender from - Chloe’s first engagement party. The real one. Chuck walks over slowly, it’s only one in the afternoon, there’s no rush of a party, just a few scattered couples and guys in suits at high top tables. He nods in acknowledgement, turning slightly so Beca can get a view of the liquor stationed on the shelf behind him.
“Jack and diet,” she tells him quickly, claiming her spot on a too high barstool, leather frayed on the edges. She exchanges cash for the glass, eyes narrowing when he leans against the bar, clearly interfering with her thinking space. The first sip is strong, but welcomed, momentarily distracting her mind from going over how the fuck this could even be happening, and what the probability is that this could still be a dream fueled by too much alcohol at the actual engagement party.
“Rough day, miss?” his voice is gravelly, like he hasn’t spoken all morning.
Beca twitches at the noise, steadying herself she sets the glass on the paper coaster. “Something like that,” she replies, caution creeping in around the edges because why does he insist on singling her out in this version of 2023 too? But, she can’t help blurting out, “Was there an engagement party here last night by any chance?”
Chuck just stands straight, wipes a section of the wooden bar that wasn’t dirty, and says, “There was.”
“Do you, um, do you know the name of the bride?” she asks, eyes glued to the coaster she just took her drink from. “Or the groom, really. Either is fine.”
“Last name was Walsh,” he says, simply. Beca’s almost certain he’s finished responding, but then he inhales and flings the towel over his shoulder and continues, “Bride was a pretty little redhead. Not much taller than you I’d say. Seemed happy.”
There’s a long pause when she finally realizes he’s done. “You’re a man of few words, Chuck.”
“I bartend. That’s my job. I don’t pay too much attention to the parties that come in,” he shrugs, pouring her another double. Beca nods, takes a sip, bends down to grab her purse, and nearly hits her head when she hears the opening notes of Titanium overhead. “This is…” she exhales and rubs her hands over her face. “Someone really hates me,” she explains after looking up to see Chuck tilting his head, salt and pepper hair shifting slightly. “Any chance you have control over the music?”
He shakes his head, but turns back to the bar to fetch her something, and she barely stops from yelling expletives when he places a yellow plastic cup on the bar. “Water. You might need it,” he shuffles away at that, but Beca narrows her eyes in suspicion. She glares at the cup, Chuck’s back is still facing her from behind the bar, but she takes a miniscule sip anyway.
“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away-”
It’s morning, the blaring alarm tells her so, and she’s quicker to shut down the phone before the full “this time baby I’ll be-” can play through.
“If I hear one more thing about anyone being fucking bulletproof, I swear to god-”
“Quiet!” Kimmy Jin snaps from across the room, Beca jumps. This constant back and forth is like whiplash, but this time she’s quick to bypass her lock screen and go straight for the calendar app. It’s May of 2013, the school year has passed, but it’s hard to tell exactly where her life is at by just flicking through iPhone apps. She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees all the phone numbers are in their rightful spots, nearly cries of relief when Jesse’s name is there too and doesn’t even think before hitting tapping his name.
“Hello?” his voice is groggy, just barely awake. “Beca?”
“Oh, thank god, Jess. You remember me, right?” Kimmy Jin slams the door in her hasty exit, but Beca doesn’t have time for that, she needs to try to hash this out with the only person that might believe her.
He clears his throat a few times. “We’re, um, not really speaking right now? I don’t know if you remember showing up at my door the other day?”
Oh. They’re here. So, no, she actually still doesn’t get anyone to talk to about this fucking complete insanity she’s living through - instead, Jesse is still mad at her because they reconcile at the ICCA’s when she makes her first, and only, big romantic gesture in their relationship.
“Right,” she finally answers while looking around her dorm to see if anything else has veered off course. She rolls her eyes when she sees nothing, remembers that at this point she was still in some weird form of denial about liking any of the Bellas, including the continual denial about how much Chloe meant. “Sorry. Just - accidentally hit that.”
“Sure,” he’s short and to the point before the line goes dead and she winces at his reaction.
Well. If she’s keeping track, in zero out of two scenarios does she get to keep Jesse. But, the problem remains that not having Jesse in her life at all in scenario one, which was the most dramatic change she made, leads to her being ‘closed off from the outside world’ according to a very angry Aubrey. The pieces don’t make sense, they don’t fit the puzzle she’s attempting to put together. Jesse is part of the reason she doesn’t get Chloe in her real life scenario, but no-Jesse is the reason she doesn’t get Chloe in fake 2012 part one?
Amy answers on the first ring, “Short stack!”
“Amy, hey - we’re - things are good, right?”
Amy snorts into the phone and Beca holds the phone back for a second, like the spit might leak through if she doesn’t. “Did you find some drugs on campus last night and not inform the group?”
“Seriously? No, I just had a question and figured you’d tell me the truth.”
“Lay it on me,” Amy tells her around a mouthful of food, continuing to chew loudly over the line.
Beca focuses on the patterned sheets under her bare legs, and lets out a breath before speaking. “Do you think I’m like, ‘closed off,’ or whatever?”
“Uh, well, let’s see,” Amy hums quietly for a few seconds, says, “Were you even able to look anywhere but at the ground when you asked that?”
“Yes,” she shoots back immediately, biting her bottom lip a few times.
“Ha, good one, Beca,” her accent draws out Beca’s name and she almost laughs at Amy’s ability to see right through her bullshit. “I once thought I could lie too, but then I thought, why not just be brutally honest, it’s more fun that way.”
Beca sighs. It’s never a simple answer. She just needs someone to confirm -
“Beca, if you were any colder you’d be the vodka in my freezer,” Beca rolls her eyes at Amy’s metaphor, shoulders tensing at what she knows is an actual honest answer from someone she sort of, kind of, but maybe shouldn’t trust. “You only ever warm up around ginger, but even then you probably need a good defrosting beforehand - you end up so hot around ginger it’s like you’re an overcooked-”
“Okay!” Beca abruptly cuts her off, thanks her for her ‘honesty’ and barely gets off the phone with her dignity intact. Had they ever been so open back in 2012 about her obvious crush on Chloe? She doesn’t remember the teasing starting until they got older.
Fucking Amy.
Here’s what she can figure: it’s common knowledge that she’s not good at being vulnerable; that’s she’s never been good at being vulnerable, but somewhere along the last ten or eleven years she got at least a little bit better - with Chloe’s help, of course. What she didn’t factor: that Jesse actually also played a part in how she learned to open up, how she wouldn’t have been ready for Chloe right off the bat - that she needed that experience and time with Jesse to help her learn herself to set her on the right track for Chloe.
Chloe’s patient, and forgiving, and knows how to push just enough to get under Beca’s skin and past her boundaries, but a lot of that during her freshman year worked in tandem with Jesse’s advances and meddling. The day she did her apology tour she went to Jesse and the Bellas. He was a priority in her life, and his little speech at her door about pushing away the people who care about her was the slap in the face she needed - led her to her father’s door to figure out how to make amends with the girls, led her to stepping back into the group and that moment in an empty pool that flipped her world upside down.
So, okay, that’s why scenario one was a hot mess and she ended up breaking Chloe’s heart.
But now, it’s the morning of the ICCA’s and she has no clue what her next move should be.
The Trebles perform, and she smiles like it’s her own personal victory when Benji nails his first performance with the group, and it’s really a testament to Jesse’s character that his first move was to bring Benji in when Bumper left - it’s not the first time that Beca wonders why it constantly feels like a build up that leads to the fork in the road between Jesse and Chloe.
It feels like this entire first year of her time at Barden was pushing her towards both of them and that her decision changed the way the following years played out.
They perform like they’re supposed to, and in an attempt to keep everything that matters, throws her fist up during ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ and sneaks a look at Chloe just in time to catch the flash of disappointment at Jesse’s raised fist in return and wonders if it’s possible that Chloe had feelings for her here. Real feelings. Ones that stemmed from a year of time spent together.
Oh, that’s okay, sing anything you want
I’m so glad that I met you
I think Beca should take my solo
Of course we waited up for you
I didn’t know you were into this stuff
Where she once saw a year of Jesse and their relationship, she’s now seeing the other half of the year, the one she ignored the first time around, the one that’s just as much of a story between her and Chloe if seen in the right light.
Their set ends, the music slows to a stop, and she turns to Chloe just as Aubrey lets go of her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkle in the stage lights, and Beca thinks she’s never looked more beautiful (and then promptly almost vomits at how corny that entire line of thought is, even if it’s true).
“So, you just won ICCA’s, Beca Mitchell, what’s next?” Chloe smiles full and wide, like maybe, just maybe, the world is whatever they make of it.
“Disneyland?” Beca finally says, shaking her head with a lopsided grin, but Chloe looks amused and happy so it’s probably worth whatever awkward Beca’s feeling. She doesn’t have time to see Jesse in the crowd, doesn’t see the frown on Aubrey’s face, or have time to worry about any of it because Chloe’s kissing her and there’s confetti pieces caught between their hands and in strands of red hair, and Amy’s hoisting a trophy above their heads yelling, “VICTORY!” like some sort of medieval Viking while the rest of the Bellas cheer around them, and this finally feels like she got it right.
A generic ringtone rouses her from sleep, and she jolts up in muted panic, hands frantically searching for an iPhone in the vicinity.
“Hey, you,” a deep voice comes around the corner, she almost flinches when a shirtless Jesse walks in with a coffee mug and kisses her cheek before plopping down on the bed beside her. “Figured you should start getting ready soon?” he smiles, eyebrow raised at what must be some kind of terror written all over her face.
“We - wait, what?”
He lays the back of his right hand against her forehead. “You feeling okay, Bec? We have Chloe’s engagement party this afternoon,” he shrugs and stands, stepping out of his sweatpants, left in only his boxers and Beca can barely do anything but feel like her brother is taking off way too much clothing because they haven’t been like this since her senior year of college - well, the first senior year of college in like .. whatever real life is at this point. “You cool if I shower first?”
“Um, yeah, sure,” she tries for nonchalant, but is pretty aware that she’s failing miserably. “Do I normally shower first?”
“Are you sure you’re good? I’d say we don’t have to go to tonight,” he meanders around gathering clothes, glancing at her with concern every few seconds. “But you are her maid of honor, so we probably do need to make an appearance.”
“Oh, I’m her - right, right. Makes sense,” Beca nods her head, fidgets under the comforter and tries to control her face when she realizes she’s sitting there in only a bra and underwear. “I’m sure you’re excited to see Scott today,” she murmurs, fishing for potential clues as to how in the almighty hell they got here.
“Scott?” he turns, eyebrows furrowed. “Bec, it’s for her and Aubrey. You just went with Chloe to her dress fitting last week.”
Beca spits coffee across a gray bedspread. “Aubrey - Posen. That Aubrey. Blonde, nazi dictator Aubrey.”
“Beca,” Jesse looks at her seriously, sits down again and wipes at the droplets to avoid stains. “What’s going on with you? You just went to her fitting. We just picked up new a new dress and ties yesterday from Express for all this stuff. You just went out to lunch with the girls like three weeks ago to celebrate. They’ve been together the last like… since 2015 or something. After they both graduated. You had that weird fling with Chloe before that, but the distance thing didn’t work out, and you agreed to stay friends. She roomed with Aubrey in New York for a while,” he shrugs, wiggles his eyebrows a little, “one thing led to another I guess.”
Beca feels her stomach clench, feels the knife slice right through her small intestine at the thought of any of this. The thought that once again, she was the one that screwed this up, that she couldn’t handle something that the Beca in every single universe is fighting for.
That she lost Chloe to Aubrey Posen.
What in the actual fuck?
Jesse’s staring at her when she comes to, rubs his thumb over the back of her hand a few times, suggests they shower together and wipes the rejection off his face quickly at her barely concealed repulsion. She wonders what she’s like in this universe where she ended up with Jesse - where he was clearly all she had left at Barden - it feels like she settled even though Good Guy Jesse is anything but settling. She’s more than certain he treats her right, all the pictures decorating their room full of toothy smiles and affectionate touches speak to the fact that there’s love that still stands between them all these years later.
It’s just - Beca never thought she didn’t love Jesse. It just wasn’t that love. It wasn’t Chloe love. And that made everything else feel like a waste.
And that’s all that keeps scrolling through her mind on repeat as they walk into Empire State South, which makes Beca’s head hurt if she thinks too hard about the fact that Chloe’s engaged to someone else and is still picking this fucking venue. Chuck nods at her as Jesse goes to the bar to retrieve their drinks, she side eyes him, adjusts her purse, and takes the glass. She breathes through his brief kiss, clenches her teeth, and gets through interactions with old college friends, before finally spotting the happy couple in the corner greeting guests that pass by.
“You wanna go say hi?” she hears Jesse somewhere over the rush in her ears, but he’s muffled and the static threatens to consume her when Aubrey’s hand wraps tightly around Chloe’s waist. It was different seeing Chloe with Scott, it was somehow less painful when Beca was too little, too late. But to know they had their shot, they had their moment, and she let it go?
Something doesn’t sit right. It doesn’t sit right knowing she could be up there with Chloe, but instead she’s feet away, barely able to stand the smell of Jesse’s aftershave, tensing at his hand laying supportively at the small of her back.
“Bec!” Chloe shouts over the crowd, and it’s like the parting of the red seas. Beca isn’t stupid, she sees Aubrey’s jaw set when Chloe wraps her arms around Beca’s shoulders. Jesse lets go and takes a step back. Little things start to click, little interactions that stood out from early on that she never thought anything of. But suddenly, Aubrey’s possessive nature makes a whole hell of a lot of sense, and she has to fight to contain the self satisfied smirk that almost settles on her face as she waves at Aubrey, arms still full of a certain redhead.
“Hey, Chlo, you look,” Beca pulls back slightly, just to admire the pale pink dress she’d picked for the occasion. “You look gorgeous,” she finally manages, voice soft and sincere.
Chloe’s eyes soften in a way she reserves just for Beca, says, “Thank you,” before clearing her throat, and finally letting go entirely. She shifts to focus on Jesse, “Thank you both for coming.”
Jesse just smiles politely. “Wouldn’t miss it. Bec’s your maid of honor. I’m just here to witness her give this speech if we’re being honest,” he whispers the last part like Beca can’t hear and Chloe laughs, wraps an arm around Beca’s waist and Beca takes a second to wonder what kind of fuckery has been going on in this version of events.
It’s like she can’t even be certain if there’s some kind of affair - or at this point fuck knows if they’re swingers with Chloe and Aubrey because somehow Jesse and Aubrey seem all too aware of the overly affectionate relationship that still exists between her and Chloe, like it’s some kind of unspoken thing everyone’s just cool with.
“You and I both know Beca can be good at being the center of attention when she needs to be,” Jesse takes a sip of his beer, nods in agreement, and holds a fist up in the air to which Chloe squeezes her closer and grins like this is some big inside joke between the three of them.
Beca is baffled.
Aubrey appears, hugs Jesse quickly, and finally looks at the three of them, asks, “What’s so funny?” to which Chloe and Jesse just share some weird look and half smiles. Beca decides she might scream, she’d almost rather end up with no one at the end of it than whatever this is. Where everyone’s just fucking aware the right people didn’t end up together due to circumstances that no one had any control over years ago.
“I just - I need some air,” she ducks out of Chloe’s hold and away from Jesse’s questioning look.
The humidity is ever present as she shuffles through the front door to the side of the building that she remembers sharing with Chloe. It feels like months ago. This feels like too much, but she just sighs, rubs her hands over her face a few times and frowns at the makeup that’s probably smudged all over.
“Jesus Christ,” she heaves a deep breath, and finds Chuck taking out a trash bag to the dumpster a little ways down the alley. A cigarette is all she can think of when she sees him, but of course, Jesse’s Beca doesn’t smoke and so her purse is devoid of even a single stick.
It’s around the time that Chuck paces by, cigarette in one hand, lighter in the other, that Beca begins to think he’s maybe a stalker and he’s been sent to kill her. “Thanks,” she says instead, lighting it quickly and exhaling a smoke cloud in relief.
“Tough day?” he lights his own, eyes barely ever moving to even look her way.
“Something like that,” she admits, and it's weird having deja vu of a moment of deja vu, because she knows they've had this exact exchange but she just doesn't care as her shoulders finally droop when she leans against the building. “How long have you worked here?”
“Opened in ‘87,” he murmurs, turning just slightly to glance at the street as headlights pass. “Here ever since.”
Beca nods a few times, watches as the embers glow at every puff, “A lot of parties here?” she wonders aloud.
There’s a long pause before he finally replies, “Fair amount,” quick and to the point. Beca decides she likes him.
His salt and pepper hair blows in the hot breeze that whips down the building, her nose crinkles when the faint smell of trash wraps around them both. Chuck disappears and reappears, yellow plastic cup in hand. “Better wash out when you’re done out here. Your boy in there doesn’t look like he’d like the habit,” he hands it over, flicks his own cigarette on the ground and steps on it once for good measure.
At this point, she just watches him go, growls in frustration and pulls the next drag a little harder because none of this is making sense. She’s beginning to wonder if Amy asking if she was on drugs is that far from the truth because this feels like some sort of acid induced nonsense.
“Bec?” Chloe’s voice is soft, timid, nothing like what she’s used to.
“Yeah, uh, gimme a sec,” she toes out the cigarette on the asphalt, barely stepping away from it before Chloe comes into view. “Hey, there, Mrs… Posen?” she tries the name out but it barely rolls off her tongue and she’s sure the face she pulls is noticeable.
“We’re not changing names,” Chloe confirms with a sad smile. Her eyes are already glassy and this doesn’t ever bode well because a sad Chloe kind of hurts her heart. “Just seems like a lot of paperwork and my degrees from vet school have Beale on them, sooo…” she trails off, eyes flicking around the alley for signs of life, and takes a step closer. “Look, Beca, I know this is -”
Beca is instantly shaking her head, stepping away, one hand held up like she’s a hostage to this entire thing (she briefly thinks she kind of is), her other hand stays tightly wrapped around the stupid cup. “We shouldn’t - just whatever you’re going to say, we shouldn’t,” Chloe looks hurt, her left eye twitches slightly, and anyone else would’ve missed it. “I’m happy for you guys,” Beca drops her empty hand to her side, digs her fingernails into her palms as the words come out, surprised she even says it.
Chloe laughs bitterly, “You’re really not.”
“I’m telling you I am.”
“This is the first time you’ve ever said that,” there’s a look in those blue eyes that almost make Beca feel like she’s being hunted, the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Well,” Beca bites her bottom lip, exhales, and says, “First time for everything.” She takes a sip of water, half expects a phone alarm to be going off seconds later, but blinks hard when she remembers that fucking song needs to be playing. Chloe’s eyes are intense, reeling her in like they always do, she can’t help the next thing that leaves her mouth. “Chlo, what happened to us? Why didn’t we -”
Chloe just offers a watery smile, her back straightens, shoulders tense up quickly. It’s all her shackles physically rising, what freaks Beca out is that that’s her thing, it’s never been Chloe’s. “You couldn’t,” is all she says, Beca barely hears it.
There’s a lot of things Beca will never forgive herself for - breaking Chloe’s heart in this universe is the top of the list, without question. She broke Chloe, unwilling to put in the effort that someone like Chloe Beale so deserves and so Aubrey was there to scoop up the pieces and she took the easy route. She took college with Jesse instead of fighting for what they should’ve had. There’s flashes of things that should’ve been. Flashes of
Of course I love you, idiot.
Take me there, Bec.
Yes, I’ll marry you.
Collections of all the things she doesn’t get to have. And maybe she’ll wake up tomorrow and get another shot at this, but the pain on Chloe’s face here is so real that it’s clawing through her chest, it’s making her ache in places that she wasn’t sure could feel pain. Her blood feels warm and sticky flowing through her veins.
“Why?”
Chloe’s hands are in front of her, fingers tangled together, white knuckles facing outward. “I’ve asked myself that - every single day. We were - those months with you were -” she struggles for words, Beca didn’t need to actually live them to know they were magic.
A ringtone slices through the tension, she startles as bright blue eyes squint at her screen. Beca knows she only has another few seconds so she guzzles the water quickly, drowning out what she already knows the next line is, “Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away…”