Chapter Text
It goes like this.
"And, so, uh, let's all raise a toast to these two," Beca says as she raises a glass with a smile that she hopes looks real enough.
Chloe's beaming like she just won the biggest prize at the state fair, and Beca's heart aches with everything she just gave away.
It would take eleven years for everything that's been right in front of her eyes to finally make any kind of sense. And she gets it, Chloe’s happy, in a way that Beca’s always wanted for her best friend, but she wonders now, standing at this fucking engagement party, if maybe she couldn’t have been the reason for that smile.
The applause startles her, and then she’s enveloped in a hug, and there’s red hair, muffled words, and perfume that sends Beca’s head spinning, followed by, “Becs, you were so good!”
Her mouth twitches slightly as Chloe pulls back finally, and she manages, “Yeah, it went okay. Better than I thought it would anyway,” with a shrug.
But those bright blue eyes are glowing, and Beca can’t help but crack a small smile, at least until Scott walks over to wrap an arm tightly around his fiancee’s waist. He nods at Beca, grinning just as enthusiastically as Chloe, and says, “You killed it up there, Bec!”
She tries to not flinch at the nickname, tries to hide behind another oversized gulp of champagne, but it feels hardly disguised if the quirk in Chloe’s eyebrow says anything.
None of this feels real. It doesn’t feel possible that she just gave the toast at her best friend’s engagement party; not with the conclusion she’s finally come to during these last few weeks of preparations, she can’t be this close to being too late.
She hears, “Beca, I-“ but she starts to turn away before Chloe can get the words out.
“I’m, uh, gonna go make sure Stacie isn’t like, mounting your best man, Scott,” she tells them as she pivots to push through the crowd to make a hasty exit.
Chloe looks bewildered because that isn’t like Beca, but she just can’t right now.
And she just hasn’t been able to since Chloe walked out of the fitting room in that white dress.
But, well, that really isn’t a thought she can even start to unpack when she can still see Scott’s hand on Chloe’s hip, can still hear her giggle when Cynthia Rose and Fat Amy storm up to meet the happy couple, can still smell the perfume that’s just so her -
More champagne it is then, and she swipes a glass off the server’s tray as he passes, gulping it down on the way to the bar.
“Jack and diet,” Beca calls out, leaning over the bar just slightly to get the middle aged man’s attention. He nods just slightly to show he’s heard, and she can’t help but grin and slip him an extra dollar when he pours her a double rather than skimping on the liquor like effing George did on her last drink. “Thanks, dude.”
“You look like you might need it,” he returns, and she scowls as she tries to align the straw with her mouth, cringing when she finally tastes success. “Should’ve kept my dollar,” she grumbles as she turns directly into a familiar chest.
“Hey, you.”
“Oh, Chlo, hey, just, you know -” Beca twirls her drink out between, “getting a refill,” she takes another exaggerated gulp as if to prove she’s not some lying monster.
As if she didn’t scramble away to avoid having to look at Chloe making heart eyes at her fiance.
Chloe quirks her eyebrow again, and Beca knows barely concealed suspicion, already knows what’s coming before it she hears it. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You just seem…” Chloe pauses, “- off, I guess?”
Beca scoffs in response, taking another sip before saying, “You worry too much, Beale,” with a smirk that dissolves into a frown when she notices her drink is almost gone. Again.
She tries to turn back to the bar, but Chloe just grabs her wrist, tugging on her arm before she can get there. “Bec-”
“One sec,” Beca says, turning to shake her glass in the air until the ice gets the bartender’s attention. “I’ll take another!”
“Beca.”
The bartender gives her the same sharp nod, setting to work, and she lets her shoulders fall when she sees him pouring another double. This might become her new favorite spot if he’s not careful. “Let me just get…” she trails off, reaching into her small purse hanging just below her hip, “- where did I put the change from -”
Chloe releases a loud exhale, squeezes tighter on the wrist she’s still holding, and says, “Mitchell,” in such a way that Beca looks up immediately, raising her eyebrows. “What’s going on?” she asks after a beat, gesturing towards the like, fourth or fifth drink Beca’s had in the last hour.
Which, okay, they’re not in college anymore - and this is an engagement party - so maybe the guzzling of liquor could be seen as excessive.
“It’s nothing,” Beca waves her off as she exchanges cash for the glass on the bar. Chuck, or so his name tag says, flashes a look that says something like, told you so, but Chloe is waiting, and Beca doesn’t have the time to deal with his shit. She turns back around, frustrated with the rock and hard place.
“I was nervous about the toast - you know how I am. Liquid courage is all.”
Chloe still has her wrist, but her grip loosens, brow furrowed like she doesn’t believe a fucking word of it. And she shouldn’t, but Beca isn’t about to be the one to tell her that.
“There you are, Chloe! Scott said you might be over this way with the gremlin.”
Beca’s never been so fucking thankful to hear Aubrey Posen’s voice in her entire life.
“Ah, Aubrey. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you,” is covered by, “Bree! I was so worried you wouldn’t make it!”
Aubrey just laughs as she pulls Chloe into a hug, and Beca finally gets her limb back but misses the contact immediately. Pathetic, she thinks, grimacing before pulling more liquid from the straw.
“And miss your engagement party? You’re my best friend, Chloe, I couldn’t miss this,” their hug intensifies before Beca hears, “Your speech went well, Mitchell.”
“Uh, yeah, well - every once in a while I like to surprise people,” Beca says finally, smiling back at Aubrey around her straw, choking slightly when she realizes multitasking is not a strong suit after this many drinks.
“Just take the compliment for once, Beca.”
Chloe laughs as soon as the words are out of Aubrey’s mouth.
She shakes her head in amusement, heart stuttering and skipping a beat when Chloe turns her head from Aubrey to meet her eyes. “Our dear Beca here has yet to learn that skill, Bree. I keep trying to teach her, I mean I’ve only been complimenting her for about a decade now,” she finishes the line with a wink and Beca just about dies.
Chloe’s always been this way - flirtatious, forward, and bold - and Beca’s never known how to handle it in a way that doesn’t involve her stuttering awkwardly and blushing like a fool. But these reactions feel new, even if they probably aren’t. Maybe it’s just the fact that now she’s actually noticing the way every molecule in her body gravitates towards Chloe, like her body was born precisely for it.
It reminds Beca of junior year of high school, of chemistry classes with Mr Sheehan, watching the reaction between hydrogen peroxide and sodium iodide with oversized goggles barely balanced on crooked ears. She thinks of Chloe, of hiding behind her own safety goggles for years, just barely avoiding the heat from the near constant involuntary reactions to each other.
It feels like everything’s exploded on her anyway.
And it’s bleeding in through her skin, burning her in places she thought she had covered back when she was just a kid, learning how to defend herself from things like this.
Those scientific reactions - they’re inevitable.
Time and time again, when you mix the same two ingredients you end up with fire and smoke. This sort of feels like that. Like it was inevitable because she and Chloe were constantly circling each other, and she wonders how long they could’ve gone, brushing up against one another for years without the final reaction. But this is it, isn’t it? The one they warn you about, the big finale where you hope to god the shield holds.
Except, Beca’s didn’t. Her plexiglass wall around her heart finally cracked and splintered, and the fire went everywhere, seeping into places she’s had sealed for years.
How did she not know?
All this time.
All the wasted years.
Aubrey’s eyeing her strangely, and Beca realizes she has no idea what her face has been doing through that thought cascade. Chloe’s still smiling, but her eyes say their conversation isn’t finished, even though her mouth is saying, “Earth to Beca,” drawing out the last syllable until Beca just laughs because she can’t not.
She also needs an out.
“Becaw!”
Jesse’s timing is impeccable, good or bad, but in this case she’ll take it with open arms.
“Hey, Jess,” she realizes she didn’t mean the open arms thing literally as he’s pulling her in tightly, and he laughs when she whines, “I just saw you - yesterday! Let me go!”
“Twenty four hours without you is twenty four hours too long, Becs,” he tells her with a cheesy smile as he finally releases her. She rolls her eyes as he moves to hug Aubrey and Chloe. “Where’s the other half?” he asks, looking around for Scott to continue their ever sickening bromance. Beca nearly gags, but restrains herself by finishing her drink.
“He’s around here,” Chloe finally says, craning her head to see Scott standing over with two of his own friends, and Beca sees him wink silently wishing the bartender would’ve just been a real bro and handed over the bottle. “He’s over there if you wanted-”
“Nah, I’m gonna spend some time with my bestie here,” he tilts his head toward Beca, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and she just can’t help leaning in. Jesse feels like safety, home, and comfort - not like her world is on fire - which is suddenly all she can feel when Chloe’s around.
It’s that fucking dress, she keeps telling herself, but it feels useless when she’s watching blue eyes light up at Aubrey’s stories about work, and she knows she’s just been telling herself a lot of shit for the last ten years or so.
“I think I’m -”
“‘Nother drink, Bec?” he reads her so well that Beca wonders why they couldn’t have just fucking ended up together. Jesse was good on paper, everything she was looking for, they really should have worked.
But then she thinks about kissing him and how all she ever really wanted was exactly what they have now. They have video games, old vinyls, shitty movies (that she complains through), pizza and cheap beer on Friday nights, and weekly breakfast dates at the shitty diner down the street. When she thinks about it, sure, he sounds like a boyfriend still, except she gags at the thought of kissing him now and sex is just - ugh, gross.
“Beca, should you really-”
But Jesse is already spinning her away from Chloe and back to Chuck, and she squeezes his arm a little in muted thanks for just getting it.
“How’s it going with-”
“Jess, don’t,” she warns, forking over money to George begrudgingly. Which means this one is a single. Just means she’ll have to drink it quicker. Whatever. “Not now, okay?”
He nods, takes his Corona from the bar, and holds his arm out prom style. She laughs, full and loud, barely sees Chloe frowning as she takes his arm to head back to find the rest of the Bellas and Benji.
The rest of the party starts to fly by while she manages to catch up with people she hasn’t seen in years, old college friends (yes, besides the Bellas) because leave it to Chloe to invite some girl they both had World Civ with Beca’s sophomore year at Barden. Jesse is ever the faithful friend, by her side the entire time, keeping a watchful eye on Chloe while masterfully directing them away from potential interactions.
Sure, she feels bad, Chloe is still her best friend, and this is her engagement party, and she is the maid of honor. They should be attached at the hip right now, but this just feels easier. Standing with Jesse in the middle of a conversation with Flo, Fat Amy, Legacy, and Benji is just what she can manage right now.
“I’ll be borrowing her from you real quick, Jesse,” Beca hears Chloe’s voice two seconds before she sees red hair coming into view. She narrows her eyes at Jesse and he shrugs, apologetic, but they both know there’s nothing he can do without making it weird.
“I’m, uh, we’re in the middle of-”
Chloe takes her by the hand, smiling politely at their friends, but her smile is reading to Beca like there’s no option but to follow along at this point. “This will just be a second, Bec,” she turns back to the circle, “I’ll return her in one piece, promise!”
Leave it to the rest of them to be averting their eyes to other corners of the room, nodding at Chloe in agreement as they walk away. Fuck them all, Beca thinks, letting herself be led out a side door.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I would like to know why my maid of honor has been avoiding me for half the night-”
“I wasn’t -”
“Please don’t act like I’m stupid, Beca,” Chloe exhales, leaning against the wall, hands fidgeting nervously. “Is it Scott? I thought you liked him, you guys have always gotten along, I mean we’ve gone out drinking-”
“It’s not - I, yeah, of course I like him,” she says softly, leaning against the wall next to Chloe so their shoulders are just barely touching. Chloe looks devastated, like Beca single handedly ruined this day for her, and that’s never really been okay. “It’s nothing, I swear. I’m all good.”
“Then why are you hanging onto Jesse like he’s some kind of lifeline?” she turns her head, but Beca refuses to meet her eyes. “You look like you don’t think you belong here, Bec. You’re my best friend, my mom’s been asking why she hasn’t seen you all night.”
Beca blinks, hard, trying to quell the nauseous feeling that she can’t say for certain isn’t from all the alcohol. She finally lets her head turn slowly, and the earnest look in those blue eyes feels just as much like a knife to the stomach as she knew it would.
“Maybe I just had too much to drink?” she offers, shrugging like maybe it’s convincing to the both of them. “That’s probably all. I’m - it’s good. I’ll go see your mom now,” but Chloe has her hand long before she can gain any leverage to move.
“Please, talk to me.”
Fuck.
Beca considers what it would be to just tell her, to just put it all out there and hope there’s something worth saving in the fallout. Maybe Chloe would still let her stand at the back of the ceremony, give her a place card at that table where all the weirdos go that weren’t supposed to be invited anyway. The open bar would probably make it tolerable.
“Are we - did I do something? If it’s not Scott it has to be me, right?” Chloe’s spiraling, both hands coming up to press on her temples as her eyes start to look glassy. She can’t cry.
“Oh, hey, no, don’t-” Beca tries, turning and reaching up to grab her wrists until they’re both just staring at each other stupidly, leaning against a brick wall while the sun sets. It’s humid, Beca thinks her hair is probably starting to frizz, but Chloe still looks perfect aside from the little bit of eyeliner that’s started to run at the corners of her eyes. “You’ll ruin your makeup,” she finishes, tangling their fingers together in front of them as she frowns at how stupid that just sounded.
“I can’t do this, any of this, without you, Becs.” It comes out so easily, because Chloe’s never had a hard time telling Beca just how much she means to her and it’s why Beca knows her feelings are most likely one sided. It’s moments like this that let her know that if Chloe felt anything close to what she’s feeling now they’d probably already be married and honeymooning on some Greek island.
“Who said you had to?”
There’s a small smile at that, Beca feels her heart slow and stutter into submission. Chloe squeezes her hands, leaning forward like she has a secret. “You know, I’m sure Aubrey would gladly take your place in a heartbeat.”
Beca snorts. “Shut up! You’re the worst.”
“Just saying, Mitchell. You better watch your back. I’m almost surprised she hasn’t hired someone to take you out by now.”
“You and me both,” Beca admits, smirking at the amusement written all over her best friend’s face.
It’s quiet for a few minutes, darkness settling in around them, Chloe takes one hand back but leaves the other as she flattens against the wall again. “Are you, like, getting back together with Jesse?” It’s abrupt and almost sounds like jealousy as it tumbles out, Beca looks over to find wide eyes like Chloe can’t even believe she asked. “Uh, sorry,” she breathes out a startled laugh, “that was - you can obviously date whoever you’d like, you just looked…”
“Oh my god, dude,” Beca can’t help the laugh that escapes in return as she nudges Chloe’s shoulder with her own. “Absolutely not. He’s just, I dunno…” she trails off helplessly, glancing at the ground.
“You guys just seem close.”
“We are,” she finally says, looking back up as she shuffles a heeled foot around on the pavement. “He’s my best -” Beca’s mouth stops moving as the words start to dawn on her and her lips come together to make a thin line. Chloe’s face just kinda crumbles as she looks away and Beca scrambles to make sense of what just happened. “I, er, Chlo - not like that.”
“No, you’re-”
“Hey, look at me,” she tugs on Chloe’s arm for attention, but Chloe’s stubborn when she’s been hurt and Beca knows that. “Chloe, just look at me.”
“Why?” she breathes out, voice cracking until Beca has to move to stand directly in front of her. She uses the backs of her hands to wipe at tears, mad at herself for causing this kind of reaction.
“Chlo, you are my best friend in the entire world, okay?”
Honesty isn’t Beca’s thing, she doesn’t even say things like that, but Chloe starts to smile through a few more tears and she knows she made the right call even if she’s squirming with discomfort.
“Getting soft on me, Mitchell?” her voice is teasing and Beca flushes but keeps her eyes trained on her best friend and breathes out to maintain some composure.
“I’m a badass and you know it, Beale,” Chloe giggles at that, moving her hands until they’re gripping at Beca’s waist to pull her closer and well, dying like this wouldn’t be the worst way to go. “I’m sorry - about the thing with Jesse, I just - you’re busy with Scott and he’s just,” she pauses, stomach clenching when she’s pulled in for a hug but finishes her sentence anyway. “He’s my go to a lot since you guys -”
“Becs,” Chloe’s breath is warm on her ear, and her heart skips a beat as the hug lasts just a little longer than it probably should. “I get it. You can have other friends.”
Beca laughs, pulls back, says, “Oh, yeah I know. But you can’t. So tell Aubrey she can back off.”
Eyes glowing, Chloe laughs, standing up straight and leaning in until she’s in Beca’s space again. It’s always made Beca a little nervous, ever since Hood night, ever since ‘I think we’re gonna be really fast friends’ but she’s always hated social interaction and so she’d chalked it up to that.
She’d chalked it up to that for years.
She ended up here anyway.
“I still wish you’d tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Just a long day,” Beca offers, shuffling back into her bubble just slightly. It’s enough that Chloe frowns at her movement, but doesn’t comment. “You know… we’re missing your party in there. I’m sure everyone’s looking for you.”
“So? Let ‘em look.”
It’s things like that, words that come out so sure and certain, that set Beca on edge. Chloe’s eyes are always intense, but they look metallic in the light glowing from the street lamp on the side of the building. Is this how Chloe looks at everyone else? Or is Beca just convincing herself of false truths now that she’s put a name to her own feelings?
“We should-” Beca turns toward the door, but Chloe pulls her in with both hands, their faces inches apart when the momentum stops.
“Stay out here with me?” she must look unsure because then she hears, “... just for a few more minutes?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. You mind if I smoke?”
“I thought you quit -”
“Just when I drink,” Beca explains, like that’s anywhere close to the truth that she’s been killing a pack a day in the lead up to this wedding. “More of a social thing these days.”
“Right.” Chloe looks unconvinced, but she flicks the lighter anyway figuring this feels just about as unhealthy as all the pining she’s been doing for the last few weeks anyways. At least the smoke makes Chloe take a few steps out of her space so she can fucking think clearly.
A few cars pass, headlights illuminating the side of the building as she inhales a few puffs of the smoke. The burn in her lungs feels like nothing compared to the lurch in her heart she feels every time her eyes catch Chloe’s in the silence. It feels awkward and she’s not sure why, because yeah, she’s always awkward, but Chloe isn’t and this isn’t something that’s commonplace for them.
“I feel like I barely-”
“You excited for-”
Beca snorts at Chloe’s goofy smile when their words overlap, nods for her to go first as she exhales another cloud. Chloe waves it away and licks her lips a few times like she’s gathering courage. “I feel like I barely see you anymore, Beca. I - you keep saying you’re fine but I feel like something’s going on with us. Like you’re shutting me out and -” she takes a few strangled breaths refusing to look away from the ground. It’s so unlike her. “Bec, I picked you. You’re my maid of honor. You’re my best friend. You’re just - you’re mine.”
The flush on Chloe’s cheeks burns red, she still won’t look up, and Beca feels like it was an admission, but she’s not sure how, just knows her pulse is thundering in her ears and the cigarette between her fingers hasn’t been touched since Chloe started.
“I - what?”
There’s a shrug, and then the cigarette is being plucked from her hand, smashed beneath a black flat, and all Beca can do is stare because there really aren’t words for any of this.
“I could’ve picked Aubrey, okay?” she flinches at the words, knows this to be true. She knows Aubrey and Chloe talk daily, which is more than she can say for their friendship due to her own inability to balance work and her social life. But it’s been at its worst lately, since that dress fitting, since she very nearly came close to ending this friendship with epiphanies ten years in the making.
“So, why didn’t you then?”
“Because you’re - Jesus, Beca, you’re so frustrating sometimes,” Chloe blurts it out, she looks hurt, but Beca can’t be sure what’s causing it, not when she doesn’t really understand what it is that’s trying to be communicated. “Don’t you have any clue what you mean to me?”
“Well, we’re best friends, right?” she goes to pull out another cigarette but Chloe glares in disapproval and she thinks better of it. “You mean a lot to me too,” Beca finally manages, shrugging in some sort of feigned nonchalance.
“Bec,” Chloe looks serious now, she takes a full step forward, eyes darker than they’ve ever been. “I think I know what’s going on with you,” is whispered into the space between them, barely illuminated by the streetlights.
The air feels stifling suddenly, because Chloe is looking at her like she really does know and it’s terrifying. And it can’t happen, not at her fucking engagement party. Not when all she can see is the Save the Date hanging on her refrigerator, all she can hear in her ear is Jesse saying “you sure you wanna go to this?” and her snapping back, “I have to go, Jesse, I’m the fucking maid of honor.”
Chloe lets out a sharp exhale, nostrils flaring, her head hanging low as her hands fidget at her sides. “I think I know what’s going on and I get it. I do. You’ve been so weird with me since my fitting - you’re pulling away and at first I thought it was because you were giving me space because of everything,” she’s wringing her hands together now, eyes flitting nervously all around. Beca feels like her chest might crack open until her heart just falls out onto the ground below. “But you’ve been weird with Scott since then too. And I mean, we’ve been together for a little over two years,” Beca flinches internally, starts to feel that nausea come back, and thinks she has a better tolerance than for that to be the whiskey. “Now seems like a weird time to start to dislike him, doesn’t it?
“I told you-”
“I keep seeing your face - that day at the fitting. I keep seeing your face when I walked out of the dressing room.”
Beca coughs, running her hands over her face to try to figure out how to get a grip on this because she doesn’t know how they got here. Her thoughts are spinning, liquor fueled, and when she spares a glance, Chloe just looks lost. “Well, it’s a nice face,” she tries, hoping to crack the tension but Chloe’s shoulders hunch when she says it.
Wrong move.
“I can’t lose you,” Chloe finally admits, she doesn’t move, and Beca itches to go to her, but doesn’t.
“You won’t,” she says instead.
Chloe finally looks up, heart on her sleeve, and Beca sees what feels like years of pain lingering in unshed tears. “Won’t I?”
“I’m still here. I’m still your best friend - your maid of honor,” she adds. “Just because I realized -” and then she shuts up, lips clamping down after having just basically said far too much. Chloe smiles sadly, but feels farther away than ever.
“I’m already losing you now, Bec,” and her heart nearly stops. She feels it shoot up into her throat before the words shatter it into pieces never to be reassembled in the same way. “I already know how this is gonna play out with you. I know you, don’t you get that?”
“And how’s that?” she snaps back, anger seeping through. It isn’t fair for there to be assumptions when she’s been sucking it up for months to play her role.
“You already started,” Chloe returns, eerily calm. “I don’t even hear from you anymore unless it’s mandatory plans for the wedding. You avoid me like I’m this year’s strain of the flu. You basically just told me Jesse’s your best friend, and once this is all over, once you don’t have to see me anymore, you’ll just freeze me out until suddenly it’s been months and you won’t even know the last time you spoke to me.”
“That isn’t - dude, that’s not how I am. I just - I needed some time, okay?” she can hear her voice edging on hysterics, but the words are coming faster than she can speak them, the alcohol’s making it easier to say the things she never wanted to. “You just, you walked out of that room, and I couldn’t - I didn’t know, okay? Like, I spent all these years just, uh, not knowing, you know? And then I just, I saw you, and - God, things just started to click into place -”
“Bec, don’t,” Chloe says quietly, but Beca feels like she can’t stop, can’t halt what she’s been keeping at bay.
“It was like from that first minute in the shower, everything I ever felt that I couldn’t make any sense of started to be something I could understand. And I don’t know why it took me -”
“Beca.” Chloe stops her, voice thick, eyes desperate. “Please, don’t.”
She freezes, blinking back her own emotions, face contorted in thinly veiled confusion. “I thought you wanted-”
“If you say it,” Chloe finally moves, steps what feels like another foot away. “If you - I can’t, okay? I’m finally happy now, Beca. I finally found someone that I can… he makes me happy. It took me so long, to finally be here. Dating was - didn’t you notice I never dated when we were at Barden? Couldn’t you tell? Couldn’t you see it on my face?”
These questions aren’t computing, she doesn’t understand what Chloe’s even asking, until suddenly she does. And her breath catches.
“Chlo,” she steps in, but Chloe moves away still, shaking her head, hands up like Beca’s robbing her of something precious.
“No, no, no,” she keeps shaking her head, a tear trailing as she does. “I didn’t - this wasn’t to make you, like, feel guilty. I just - I love Scott,” and Beca knows she isn’t lying. Beca’s seen them together, she’s seen almost every second of their progression over the last two years, she was the one that fucking set them up.
“God,” she breathes, hands clenched at her sides sides, still staring at Chloe like they can take this all back somehow. Chloe looks sad, lost, hollow in ways Beca’s never seen. Like she just tore her whole world apart, and she was always sure she meant a lot to Chloe, but she’d never dreamed it was like this. “I’m - I’m gonna,” Beca tilts her head toward the door, gestures like she’s leaving and all she hears when she does is, “I told you I’d lose you, Becs.”
The words echo as she barrels back towards the bar. She bypasses Jesse and he raises his eyebrows as if to ask if she’s okay, but she isn’t. She’s so far from it that she can’t even pretend, and Jesse knows this version of Beca, knows not to follow just yet, but looks worried all the same.
“Hey, buddy, a shot of Jack, stat,” she bites out to the same bartender. “Actually, make it two.” He nods in acknowledgment as Beca wraps her hands around the lip of the bar until her knuckles go white.
This is how it ends, huh?
This is where eleven years of friendship comes to a crossroads - Beca realizing she’s just too little too late, which is just so fucking typical.
Bartender Chuck slides over two shot glasses, tells her they’re on the house, and places a yellow plastic cup of water on the bar like he knows none of this is going to end well. She tips him generously, throwing back the first shot with gusto, wincing at the burn.
Chloe feels - felt - the same. At one point. Beca just missed it because she’s never been self aware enough. Her life feels like some kind of Greek tragedy. She never really expected Chloe to just drop everything and come running at her realization. She maybe thought they’d talk about the whole thing five years down the line when Beca came to terms with these things and moved past it all, and then eventually she’d be able to say ‘oh back when you got married I had a crush on you for a little while there’ and Chloe would laugh and call her ‘cute’ and they’d carry on.
She never thought it’d be this.
The second shot goes down smoother, and her head starts to buzz in a way that’s welcomed. Jesse comes up hesitantly, leaning back against the bar with his elbows on the edge as he watches.
“You wanna get outta here, Bec?” he finally asks, he sounds worried, she’s surprised he kept his mouth shut for as long as he has.
Beca shakes her head, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and smiles at him sadly. “You should stay. I’m, uh,” she sees Chloe moving back to Scott, but it’s hard not to pick out the defeat in every step she takes. “I’m just gonna go - home, yeah I’m going home.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea - to go by yourself, I mean.” If he wasn’t good guy Jesse she’d think he was trying to pick her up, instead she lays a hand on his shoulder and swallows any emotion she has, nausea included.
“She won’t - she doesn’t need me here, Jess,” it feels like the truth the minute it’s out there, but his face contorts into something like muted sympathy.
“She’s always needed you, Beca.”
“Yeah, well, she’s got him now,” she points out, nodding to where they’re stationed with a few Bellas and other guests. “I’m off the hook I guess,” she takes her water cup, pats his shoulder once, and stumbles just barely in the black heels she rarely wears.
It takes a few minutes to find the front door, water sloshing at the lack of coordination, and eventually she pries the heels off once she’s on the cement. The uber is five minutes away, and it feels like a lifetime when all she needs is some space from this whole night. Space to figure out how to handle losing her best friend because it doesn’t feel like they’re coming back from this one. Not when Chloe wouldn’t even glance in her direction as she made a break for the front door.
Jesus, how did she miss it? It’s all she can ask herself as a black mazda pulls up by the curb, the guy asking if she’s Rebecca through a rolled down window. She gives up a thumbs up, heels on the fingers of one hand, phone and yellow cup in the other as she tries not to spill on the fabric while climbing in.
“You good?” he turns his head to look at her cup with suspicion.
“Yup, it’s just water, dude.”
He shrugs and pulls out into traffic, right hand fiddling with the radio. “Anything specific?” he points at the dial and she just grunts out a negative, fingers scrolling through facebook now that her heels are on the floor of the backseat.
Pictures of Chloe come up on her feed, her heart clenches at every single one.
Cynthia Rose is with Chloe Beale and 9 others.
Today at 6:42 • Atlanta, GA
Engagement Party for mah girl!!! Congrats!
Aubrey Posen added 17 new photos — with Chloe Beale and Scott Walsh at Empire State South
Today at 7:18 • Atlanta, GA
Celebrating a perfect engagement for a perfect couple! So excited for you both!
It suddenly occurs to Beca that extracting Chloe from her life is going to be anything but easy when her entire life has sort of revolved around their friendship. She sighs, clicks the home button on her phone and pockets it with regret.
Maybe if she was better at not freaking out this wouldn’t have happened. If she was a better actress she could’ve just faked it until they got through the wedding, she could’ve just smiled and gave Chloe away like a best friend is supposed to do.
She’s always been shitty at having friends anyway.
Now, she’ll just have none because why would any of the Bellas side with her after all this - eighteen year old Beca would be so proud of this twenty-nine year old version of herself that’s clearly learned nothing.
She’s shaking Chloe from her thoughts, already planning to deactivate Facebook when she gets home when the universe just cracks down that much harder.
“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away -“
“Someone is fucking with me tonight, like you’ve gotta be kidding me, dude,” her driver, the uber app says his name is Paul, checks to make sure she’s okay.
“Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away-“
There’s water drops on her skirt and she wipes at them, muttering about eleven year old songs when she catches Paul looking in his rear view like she’s got ten heads.
“Mind your business, man, I had a shitty night,” she takes another sip from a plastic yellow cup and it’s the last thing she remembers until morning.
“This time, baby, I’ll be bulletproof” startles Beca awake, she grumbles at the song, hand flying to find her iPhone to stop the noise. The screen says her alarm is going off, but well, that can’t be right - that hasn’t been her alarm tone for years now.
Maybe it was Jesse when they were at the bar the night before. She grunts at the thought of all the consumed alcohol, eyes still half closed as she rolls over waiting to judge the hangover.
But there’s nothing - and there’s no way her tolerance has reached that level, it’s not like she’s some kind of functioning alcoholic. She picks her phone back up from the pillow, glances at the time, and notices August 24 under 07:50 - but, that must be a glitch because Chloe’s engagement party was August 31st. Beca squints at her phone some more - wonders if she slept for a week after the hell that was that party and opens her messages to text Jesse. But all she can find when she hits J is Jason Walker, Jessica Gregory, and Johnny Maurer.
They’re all varying degrees of acquaintances from high school.
What the fuck happened last night?
She pops up immediately, looks around the room bewildered, and almost screams when she notices Kimmy Jin tossing in a twin bed along the opposite wall.
“This has to be a dream,” she whispers, hands rubbing at her face. “What the fuck?!” she practically screeches when she opens her eyes again to find nothing’s changed.
“Enough,” is ground out from across the room, but Beca doesn’t have time for that as she’s grabbing at her blankets, lifting them like she’s looking for clues. Her dorm looks the same, her vinyls are exactly as she’d precisely stacked them, headphones laid neatly on her Macbook on the desk.
She picks up her iPhone again, this time frantically and with shaking hands, because nothing makes sense. There’s no Chloe Beale under the C in her contacts, no Aubrey Posen, no Stacie or Fat Amy. Her eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of her head when she lands on her Dad’s message thread:
Have a great first day! Hope to see you later, please get involved.
- Dad
Beca remembers that text. She’d rolled her eyes, hard, sighing before getting up for class. It was the day after the activity fair and she’d already been fed up with Barden and all its enthusiasm for the lamest shit on the planet.
Maybe her phone is glitching? (As if that accounts for the fucking dorm room she’s in right now - it’s been like nine years since she set foot in one of these).
“Kimmy Jin?” and she’s barely given anything more than a noise in response. “What, uh - what year is this?”
“Did you hit your head at orientation, Beca?” she hits hard on the ‘C’ just like Beca remembers.
“Can you just answer the question!”
Kimmy Jin turns over, narrows her eyes, and finally answers, “It’s 2012.”
Oh. What. The. Fuck.