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Dear Nev & Max,
My name is Chloe and I’m currently a vet school student in New York City. I’m writing to see if you can help me because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with a girl… who may not actually be who she says she is. Beca’s a musician in LA and I discovered her music on Instagram a few months ago. I messaged her to tell her how much I loved it and I never expected her to message me back. We exchanged numbers and we’ve been texting ever since. I’ve recently been trying to get Beca to FaceTime with me but there always seems to be some excuse… either she’s in the studio, or she can’t talk to me because of her crazy roommate, or she has a bad wifi connection… and my best friend got it into my head that “Beca” might be someone other than the cute alt-girl from her Instagram account. I do believe that Beca is real, but at this point I need your help to know for sure.
Please help me turn my dreams into a reality.
Chloe
**
INT. -- HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT
Nev Schulman sits back in his hotel room desk chair after reading Chloe’s email to Max, his assistant slash cameraman sporting trendy white-gray hair. “Well we’ve seen this before.”
“We’ve definitely seen this before,” Max says. “Someone crushes on someone’s Insta, a number texts them claiming to be that person but is actually someone else…”
“Usually. Not always.” Nev grins at Max. “Get some sleep, buddy. Tomorrow morning we’re off to the Big Apple.”
EXT. -- NEW YORK CITY -- DAY
Establishing shot, NYC skyline.
INT. -- VEHICLE -- DAY
“Staaart spreadin’ the news…” Nev starts singing, cut off by a groaning Max as he drives--or, mostly inches and stops--in the parking lot that is midtown. “Okay, so here we are. New York City. It’s a sunny spring day and we’re on our way to meet Chloe, a vet student who lives here with her best friend, Aubrey. Chloe and Aubrey captained an a capella group together in college--”
“Whaaat, that’s awesome!” Max interjects. “I love a capella!”
“--and Chloe’s love of music is what drew her to Beca, a newly established singer/songwriter on the west coast.”
“Well hopefully we can find this Beca and get some answers so Chloe doesn’t have to wonder if her dream girl isn’t who she says she is.”
“If we ever freaking get there.” Max lays on the horn. “C’mon, people, move!”
INT. -- APARTMENT -- DAY
The door swings open moments after Nev knocks, and Chloe squeals in her lavender scrubs before jumping at him in a hug. “Thank you guys so much for coming! Come in, come in.” She leads them inside her cozy, well-organized and brightly decorated apartment.
“You have a roommate, you said?” Max asks.
“Yep! Aubrey’s working right now, but she usually gets home around dinnertime.”
They sit around the living room, well lit by drawn open curtains. “So tell us about Beca and what drew you to her,” Nev prompts as Max rolls his handheld video camera.
Chloe smiles, her eyes crinkling from the force of it as she pulls a throw pillow into her lap. “Beca’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” She laughs at her word choice. “Well, not ‘met’--that’s why you guys are here! She’s funny and caring and sweet and we text all the time. We grew super close and I know she has feelings for me too.” A dreamy sigh passes Chloe’s lips. “Beca lives and works in LA--she was recently signed to a record label and she’s been recording her first album.”
Max nods slowly. “So she’s in the studio a lot…”
“She is,” Chloe says with a shrug. “She works a lot.”
“And recording studios famously--according to our show--rarely have strong enough WiFi to do any sort of video calls.”
Chloe wrinkles her nose. “Yeah. I mean I’ve only asked to Facetime or Skype or whatever a couple times. Beca seems kinda shy so I didn’t wanna push it and scare her off, but Aubrey thinks it’s shady.”
Nev strokes his scruffy chin. “So we need answers about Beca.”
“I’m really hung up on this girl, so yes. Please. I need to know if she’s not who she says she is so I can move on if that’s not the case.”
“We’re on it, Chloe. Max and I are gonna go do our research and see what we can find, and we’ll meet up with you again tomorrow.”
“Sounds aca-awesome!” Chloe shoots to her feet and hugs Nev and Max goodbye. “Thanks, guys!”
INT. -- HOTEL ROOM -- DUSK
“So here we go, Maxy.” Nev opens his laptop and clicks into his browser. “Let’s start with where it all started--Beca’s Instagram.” He navigates to the page and reads the header. “Beca Mitchell, 22, LA-based singer/songwriter.”
“Aww, she’s cute!” Max grins as he eyes the pictures. “Click that one, it’s a video--”
Nev clicks the post of Beca singing a cover of “Movement” by Hozier.
“Damn, girl’s got some pipes,” Nev says. “So there’s no blue checkmark but she’s newly signed, according to Chloe. And there’s enough entries and comments where… I mean yeah, this girl is real and a musician. The question is…”
“Is the phone number Chloe’s been texting with, which she’d allegedly gotten from DMing this Instagram, actually Beca Mitchell?”
“Or is it someone else who has access to Beca’s account?”
“That is the big question, isn’t it?” Max points to the screen. “Oh, hey--stop scrolling. Who’s that girl?”
Nev clicks into the picture of Beca Mitchell posing with another brunette; together they read the caption. “Me and my girl @emilyjunk experimenting with some boss beats… can’t wait to wrap this track and share it with all of you.
“Emily Junk.” Max snickers. “Junk?”
Nev laughs, too. “Okay let’s see…” He clicks onto Emily’s page. “Emily’s a college student who clearly knows the real Beca Mitchell. Let’s see if she’ll talk to us.” He quickly shoots Emily a DM. (Hi, Emily! This is Nev from the MTV show Catfish. I had some questions about your friend Beca, wondering if you could help us out. Here’s my number, call me if you can. Thanks!)
“Let’s do the phone number search, which should be the most telling,” Max suggests, pulling “Beca’s” number provided by Chloe from his pocket.
Nev types the number into Spokeo. “Here we go…” He clicks ‘search’ and--
“Bam! A hit!” Max thrusts his fist into the air. “Phone number and an LA address!”
Both Nev and Max’s faces scrunch with confusion.
“Who the heck is Patricia Hobart?”
“No idea,” Nev says. “Let’s see if we can find out.” After a cursory Google search for that name along with searching through several social media platforms, they come up empty.
“Well… it’s still news to share with Chloe.”
Nev’s phone rings and he brightens. “I think it’s Emily Junk.” He clicks the receiver button and puts the phone on speaker. “Hi, is this Emily?”
“Hey! Nev and Max, right? I love your show so much! Oh-em-gee, is someone I know getting catfished??”
Nev and Max chuckle.
Nev takes the lead. “We were hoping you could help us figure that out. We found your name from a picture taken with Beca Mitchell. Are you two friends?”
“Oh, totally! We met a few months ago when Beca signed with the label where I’m interning.” She gasped. “Holy cow, is Beca getting catfished??”
“Well--no, we don’t think she’s getting catfished…” Nev said, wincing. “We were just wondering if you’ve ever heard Beca say anything about a girl named Chloe.”
“Chloe?” Emily waits for a beat. “No, sorry. Beca doesn’t really talk a lot about her personal life. At least with me.”
“So you don’t happen to know if Beca’s dating anyone?” Max pressed.
“I mean, she was dating this guy named Jesse, but I’m pretty sure they’re splitsville.”
“Gotcha. Okay, Emily, thanks so much for all your help.”
“No problem, guys! Good luck!!”
Nev ends the call and sighs. “Well, we’ve got at least a little bit of information to share with Chloe tomorrow.”
“It’s a start,” Max agrees.
INT. -- BAR -- DAY
Nev and Max walk into a trendy, bright NYC bar-restaurant/
Chloe greets them with hugs and leads them to a hightop table, where a blonde girl sits primly. “Nev, Max, this is Aubrey.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Aubrey extends her hand for a firm shake.
Nev and Max shake her hand and take their seats.
“Aubrey, could you tell us a little about your feelings on this situation?” Max pans the camera at her and waits.
Aubrey sips at her water before nodding. “Chloe’s the most loving and caring person I know.”
Chloe grins at her best friend as Aubrey continues.
“She doesn’t do anything halfway--she puts her whole heart into everything. So I knew as soon as she told me about this Beca girl who lives in LA, there would be… potential heartbreak, namely because long distance relationships are hard and they’ve never actually met. And as time progressed and Chloe shared they hadn’t Facetimed or Skyped or anything like that, I started growing suspicious, so I strongly encouraged her to email you two.”
“So there’s a lot on the line here,” Max says, panning the camera to Chloe. “You feel very strongly for Beca, don’t you?”
Chloe swallows hard and her head jerks upward, bobbing in an almost frantic nod. “I think I might love her.”
“Oh, Chloe.” Aubrey sighs, reaching out to cover Chloe’s hand with her own. “If this alt-girl isn’t who she says she is, I’ll personally find whoever’s catfishing you and render them incapable of typing to anyone else ever.”
Nev and Max both grimace.
Nev opens his laptop and displays it in front of Chloe and Aubrey. “Let us show you what we found. First, the phone number is registered to a woman named Patricia Hobart. Does that name ring any bells?”
The corners of Chloe’s mouth tug into a frown. “I’ve never heard of her.”
“We thought maybe it could be Beca’s mom, as some people are still on their parents’ phone plan.”
Chloe shakes her head. “Beca’s mom passed away years ago.”
The table sits in silence for a few beats before Max breaks it. “The good news is that, unlike some catfish who completely make up a person, we do have solid evidence that Beca exists. She’s a musician in LA. We spoke on the phone with her friend, Emily, who said Beca hasn’t mentioned a Chloe, but she also said Beca tends to be private about her personal life.”
“The question is,” Nev continues, “who’s been texting you? Is it Beca, or someone who somehow got your number from Beca’s Instagram?”
Chloe bites her lip and absentmindedly plays with a lock of ginger hair. “That is the question, isn’t it?”
Aubrey squeezes Chloe’s hand.
“Well it looks like we’re going to LA to find out,” Nev declares, closing his laptop.
“We’re going to LA to find out!” Max echoes.
EXT. -- LOS ANGELES -- DAY
Establishing shot, LA skyline
INT. -- VEHICLE -- DAY
“How are you feeling, Chloe?” Nev peers back at Chloe from the driver’s seat.
“I’m good! Super good. Excited.” Chloe bounces on her seat, smiling out the window behind her aviators as she takes in the sights. “I know Aubrey’s worried, but I’m not. I know Beca’s really who she says she is. I can feel it in my bones.”
Max and Nev cast a hesitant look at each other from the front seat.
Nev turns off the freeway exit. “So first we’re going to the address listed with the phone number under Patricia Hobart. Hopefully that’ll give us a clue as to where we might find Beca.”
“Great! Sounds great. Let’s do this.” Chloe takes a deep, steadying breath.
INT. -- APARTMENT BUILDING -- DUSK
“Okay, now I’m nervous. Ooooh boy, okay. I’m cool. Cool, cool, cool.” Chloe wrings her hands as she stands beside Max in the hallway of what might possibly be Beca’s apartment--or at least the apartment of someone who might know where Beca lives.
Nev steps up to the door and knocks three times.
There’s a bit of scrambling on the other side of the door before it’s wrenched open to reveal a blonde girl in workout gear, readjusting her bra. “Sorry, I was just jumping and my boobs are all crazy,” she says in a thick Australian accent.
Nev laughs. “Hi, um… are you Patricia?”
The blonde’s eyes pop wide and she immediately shakes her head. “No… no, my name… is Beca.”
Chloe gasps. Her hand flies to her heart and tears immediately sting her eyes.
Max’s arm slips around Chloe’s shoulders.
“Wait a minute…” the Aussie says, squinting at Nev. “I know you. And you!” She points at Max. “I don’t know you, ginger. But you two are the Catfish guys, yeah??”
“Yes. Yes we are.” Nev frowns. “So… you’ve been texting with Chloe here for the past few months? Claiming to be Beca Mitchell?”
The blonde blinks, furrowing her brow until she laughs. “Oh, right. I thought you were one of my dad’s goons or something. I’m not Beca. My name’s Fat Amy.”
“You’re… Fat Amy?” Chloe blows out a breath, both relieved and confused. “Beca’s roommate, Amy?”
“Yeah! So you lot are looking for Beca?”
“Yes,” Chloe, Nev, and Max chorus.
“Oh, well. Beca’s not here. I can leave a message for her, if you’d like?”
“Amy, do you happen to know if Beca has been talking to Chloe here?” Max asks, motioning to her. “Chloe thinks she’s been talking with Beca for the past few months, but in our experience we know sometimes that’s not the case and someone might be posing as Beca.”
“Mmmmm….” Amy squints, eyeing Chloe. “She’s never mentioned anything to me about a ginger. But why would anyone pose as Beca when they could pose as someone…” Amy struck a pose in her door frame. “Infinitely more hot and interesting…”
Max grins. “So do you happen to know where we could find Beca?”
Amy scrunches up her face. “Uhhhh… oh! She’s got a show tonight. You can probably catch her after that. One sec.” She retreats into the apartment and returns with a flyer sporting Beca’s headshot and details for a gig at one of LA’s popular live music venues, handing it to Nev.
“A show?” Nev pumps his fist into the air, beaming at Chloe and Max. “We found her! C’mon, let’s go get ready… we’ve got a live show to catch tonight.”
“Thanks, Amy!” Chloe calls as they walk off. “Still confused about who Patricia is…”
Nev nods. “Me too. Doesn’t matter. We’ll get answers from Beca and see if she’s been the one texting you or not. Either way, by the end of tonight, we’ll know if you’re being catfished or not.”
INT. -- NIGHTCLUB -- NIGHT
Chloe wears a blue dress with strappy gold heels and stands in the back of the club between Max and Nev, completely transfixed by Beca Mitchell, singing five of her original songs and three covers with a backing band. She’d watched Beca’s videos of her performances countless times, but there’s something about watching her live… it’s magical. Plus, watching Beca sing in high-waisted leather pants and a sheer leopard-print top over a black bandeau truly emphasized the rockstar quality of this girl who clearly puts on a badass rocker image but who’d let her guard down to her over texting.
It has to be her, Chloe thinks. Hopes. Wishes. It has to be.
“You okay?” Nev asks Chloe midway through Beca’s set.
Chloe’s head jerks upward and bobs in a nod and she casts a shaky grin to Nev before enjoying the rest of Beca’s show.
After her set, Max returns. (Chloe doesn’t notice he’d slipped away.) “The manager said she’ll probably slip out after her set.”
Chloe laughs. “That sounds like Beca. She loves performing but hates crowds.”
EXT. -- PARKING LOT -- DARK
“Let’s see if we can catch her on her way out.” Nev waves Chloe and Max along and they linger in the club parking lot, eyes anxiously trained on the doors.
Ten minutes later, Beca bursts out with a pair of headphones resting around her neck. She’s about to pull them on when--
“Hey, Beca?” Nev steps up first, leaving Chloe and Max a few steps behind just so he could soften the blow of bad news.
“Yeah?” Beca pulls to a stop.
“Awesome show,” he says.
Beca grins. “Thanks, dude. I appreciate it.” She takes another step when--
“Beca?” Chloe calls out and then holds her breath, her heart hammering in her chest as she desperately searches Beca’s eyes for any sign of recognition.
Beca follows the voice and as soon as she lays eyes on Chloe, her breath catches. “Chloe?” Her question is soft, hesitant. The lighting isn’t great in the parking lot, after all, so she could be making a mistake. “Sorry, um. Are you--”
“Yeah,” Chloe says, a relieved giggle bubbling free. “It’s me.”
Nev and Max grin from ear to ear.
Beca blinks a few times, her grip tightening on the strap of the crossbody bag hanging at her side. “Why are you here?”
“To see you, actually,” Chloe confesses. “Aubrey thought you might not be who you said you were, so I emailed these guys--”
“Oh my god, I knew you looked familiar!” Beca cries, flinging her finger at Nev and Max. “Amy’s obsessed with your show. Holy shit.” She laughs, her eyes returning to Chloe. “Wait, you thought I was catfishing you??”
Chloe winces. “I mean, not really, but Aubrey thought maybe--” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m sorry. I just had to know for sure.”
Beca laughs. “Holy shit, this is… this is insane, but…” She swallows hard and takes a few cautious steps toward Chloe. “I’m really glad you’re here. Did you, ah…” She hitches her thumb back toward the building. “Did you catch the show, or did you just stalk me out here in the parking lot?”
“I saw the show!” Chloe squeals, reaching out to take Beca’s hand. “Oh my god, you were incredible live! Your new songs are unbelievable!”
A blush streaks across Beca’s cheeks and her eyes flicker down to her hand, now held by Chloe. Beca laces their fingers, looking back up at Chloe with a soft smile. “Thanks, Chlo.”
They pause for a moment, simply staring at each other. In person, as opposed to their pictures.
“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Nev said. “We’re gonna give you guys some time alone, so--”
“No worries, guys. I can take it from here.” Chloe beams at them, wanting to hug them both but refusing to let go of Beca’s hand. (She’ll hug them extra tight tomorrow, she silently vows.) “I’ll catch you at the hotel.”
“Call us if you need anything,” Max says before walking off with Nev.
Beca chuckles, her eyes locked on Chloe’s face. “Sorry, I just--I can’t believe you’re really here. Do you wanna… do you wanna go grab a drink somewhere quieter where we can talk and stuff?”
“Sounds perfect, yeah,” Chloe says, squeezing Beca’s hand as she lets Beca lead her toward the sidewalk. (She’d follow Beca anywhere, she decides in that moment.) “Oh, quick question--who’s Patricia?”
“Who?”
“Patricia? When Nev and Max were trying to find out if you were really you, they traced your phone number and--”
“Ooooh,” Beca snickers. “That’s Amy’s legal name. We’re on a family phone plan ‘cause it’s cheaper.” She shakes her head, pretty sure she’s gonna walk into a stop sign because she can’t stop looking at Chloe. In the flesh. “So what else did you get up to with the Catfish dudes?”
“Oh, so much…” Chloe starts, eager to tell Beca everything.
Face to face.
INT. -- HOTEL ROOM -- DAY (4 months later)
Nev and Max sit in front of Nev’s laptop four months after helping Chloe connect with her rising rockstar online girlfriend.
“It’s not often we get a happy ending,” Nev says as he clicks into Skype to call the girls one at a time. “But that was one of the sweetest endings we’ve ever had.”
“It was more like a beginning,” Max clarifies, holding his hand camera and waiting for the call to connect.
Beca picks up on the other end, grinning at the camera. “What’s up, stalkers?”
Nev and Max laugh. “It’s time for our four-month post-stalking follow-up, Beca Mitchell.”
“Yeah, how’s it going? How are things with Chloe?”
“Ehhh…” Beca wrinkles her nose. “Y’know, things started off okay, but it turned out she was kind of a creep and--” Beca cuts herself off with a yell as Chloe climbs over the couch from behind, sitting behind Beca and wrapping both arms around her middle.
“Chloe!!” Nev and Max cry together.
“Oh man, I’m so relieved!” Max’s hand braces over his chest. “You two are so cute together, we thought you broke up!”
“After going through all that trouble?” Chloe smacks a kiss to Beca’s cheek.
Beca rolls her eyes and pretends to look annoyed. (She fails miserably.) “I’m stuck with her.”
“Totally stuck,” Chloe agrees, hooking her chin over Beca’s shoulder. “We’re doing the long distance thing for a little while, but it’s been great so far.”
Nev grins. “We’re so happy for you both.”
“Thanks for everything!” Chloe pipes, beaming at them through the camera.
“Yeah, thanks,” Beca says with a smirk. “Now go catch some real catfish and leave us alone, weirdos.”
“Oh, we’re on it,” Max replies. “Your friend Amy put us on a fascinating case…”
Chloe gasps. “Be careful, you guys!”
That’s the only warning she can give before Beca closes her laptop and tackles Chloe onto her back, smothering her with kisses.
They’d both gotten really damn good at soaking up as much “in person” time together as possible.
And they’ll continue to love each other through texts during their stretches of time apart.