Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Skype Confession

Chapter 1

Echoes of Us

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“THANK YOU PITTSBURGH!”

With one last wave to the people cheering, Beca steps towards the side of the stage, her body still humming with the high of her performance. The auditorium is dark, save for the sea of mobile phone lights still waving in the air, a galaxy of devotion and appreciation she can’t quite bring herself to bask in right now.

The deafening cheers of the crowd echoe in her ears even as she moves backstage Sweat clings to her skin, her loose tank top under her stylish jacket sticks to her back as she keeps moving. Her heart continues to pound in time with the fading beats. She should be more elated. Another successful show, another packed venue, another step forward in her career. But it doesn’t fill a hollow ache in her chest that has grown there as this tour continues.

A crew member hands her a water bottle, which she heartily accepts, though she fumbles with the cap, her fingers trembling too much to twist it open. She exhales sharply, forcing herself to take a grounding breath. The rush is still there, pulsing under her skin, but beneath it lurks that same gnawing emptiness that has haunted her for weeks.

She misses home. 

She misses her.

“Another cracking performance, Rockstar. The change up on your mashup in the middle was bloody brilliant.”

Theo, her producer and the man who had discovered her during the USO tour, was waiting deeper backstage. He handed her her iPhone, even as he was reading something on his own. She automatically looked at the screen of her iPhone. A single message notification caught her eye, or rather the name on the message. It made her stomach tighten.

#1 Fan.

Still moving on autopilot, Beca realized Theo was talking. His voice steady with his English clip as he started rattling off the next day’s schedule. She took a deep breath, finally managing to twist the cap off her water bottle, though she barely took a sip. Theo kept talking—something about a radio interview in the morning.

“What was that?”

“You’ve got two interviews tomorrow morning—one with a local radio station and another with that music blog that’s been blowing up.”

Beca barely heard him as he talked, her mind still half on the stage, half somewhere else—somewhere quieter—somewhere more important. 

“Then, we’re filming some behind-the-scenes content for the YouTube channel. You know, casual stuff—you singing in the dressing room, goofing off with the crew, maybe a little acoustic snippet of the new single. We’ll weave it into the next music video.”

“Sure dude,” she says as she continues walking towards the exit, the distant hum of fans still lingering in the background. It was always like this. No time to rest, no time to think, just the constant momentum pushing her forward.

“We have a meeting with Devon Fox, with the PR department, to discuss the rollout for your EP.”

“Okay, dude,” she sighed without much conviction as she pushed through the exit. ‘PR’ strategies are some of her least favorite things to do. They are necessary, but really isn’t the side of the industry she really wants to participate in. The night air was crisp against her overheated skin as they both stepped outside of the theater. The tour bus she’s been living in looms ahead, but it doesn’t feel like home. 

Nothing on the road does.

It still felt rather surreal to be opening for DJ Khaled, with another show in the books, and while the audience’s cheers had been electrifying, Beca just couldn’t shake the hollow feeling that had been gnawing at her all these weeks on the road. 

“Oh, and don’t forget the meet-and-greet with fans after lunch. They’re dying to meet you, Beca.”

Theo was saying something, but Beca didn’t hear him, and so only hummed in response and nodded absently, as his words just blurred together. Her mind elsewhere, on the phone, or more importantly who had just texted. She climbed aboard, waving him off with a tired smile. “Got it, Theo. I’ll be ready. Just… need some sleep.”

Theo hesitated, studying her for a moment. “You okay, Beca? You’ve been especially quiet lately.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a grin. “Just tired. Long day, you know?”

He didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “Alright. Get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

As soon as the bus door closed behind her, Beca let out a long breath. She hesitated before opening the message. It was nothing long, nothing dramatic—just a simple

#1Fan: Have an aca-awesome show… Miss you.

The exhaustion hit her all at once. The late nights, the endless travel, the way her bed never felt like her bed anymore. She typed back quickly—‘Miss you too. I’ll call you soon.—before shoving her phone back in her pocket, and stepping into the private section of the tour bus. Shutting the privacy door behind her, she sighed a sigh of relief. It’s meant to give her space, a retreat from the chaos of touring, but all it really does is make her feel alone. The bus is larger than the tiny Brooklyn apartment she used to share with Chloe and Fat Amy—where Chloe now lives alone—but it feels too large, too empty.

She exhaled, kicked off her boots, and began stripping off her jacket and sweat-damp clothes. Khaled’s studio had spared no expense on the tour bus, including a shower, which Beca took full advantage of. The cool water felt so good as she took a quick shower. Feeling a bit refreshed from the shower, Beca changed into sweats and an oversized Barden hoodie. She felt a bit better as she brushed out her wet hair. The driver’s voice came through the intercom as he announced their departure. A slight lurch signals the bus pulling onto the road, but Beca barely notices. She sinks onto the small couch, staring at nothing, the ache of homesickness settling deep.

Though exhausted, sleep has been elusive lately. She can’t seem to get her mind to quiet down. At first, weeks ago, her mind had been spinning a hundred miles an hour about her tour, the performances, and the EP she was working on. But overtime her mind had shifted its focus, to home, to the life she had lost. To the person she missed. No matter how many shows she’s played or how many cities she’s visited, her mind always wanders back to one person.

Chloe Beale.

Chloe. Her best friend. Her former roommate. Her number one fan.

Her everything. 

With a sigh, Beca thought it best to climb into her bunk. Once settled she pulled her laptop onto her lap. The bus rumbled beneath her as it pulled onto an interstate highway, the sound of the engine a constant hum. The petite woman sat cross-legged on her bunk, the dim glow of her laptop screen casting soft shadows on the walls of the tour bus. She opened Skype and clicked on Chloe’s name, her heart skipping a beat as the call connected. 

After a few rings, Chloe’s face appeared on the screen, her fiery red hair a mess and her blue eyes lighting up the moment she saw Beca. “Beca! Oh my gosh, it’s been forever! How are you? How was the show?”

The familiar warmth in Chloe’s blue eyes filled  Beca’s chest with a warmth of its own. She smiled, the sound of Chloe’s voice instantly soothing her. She covered this by teasing the redhead, “It’s been a week and a half, Beale,” 

“See! Forever,” Chloe said with conviction. 

“Aww—there’s the redhead logic, I’ve missed so much,” Beca smirked.

Chloe’s expression softened. “Aww, I miss you too, Becs.” 

“Not sure that’s what I said,” teased Beca.

“But it’s true,” sassed the redhead. In the silence that followed she looked about, off-camera, before she continued, “It’s still so weird not having you around. The apartment feels so empty without you.”

“Yeah, it’s the same here. This bus is nice, better than ice, but it’s—it’s so empty,” Beca murmured, her chest tightening. “I miss you Chlo. Like, a lot.”

For a second it looked like Chloe was going to say something, but then she subtly shook her head, and asked, “So, how was your performance?”

“The performance was good. Crowd was insane; so much energy it was easy to deliver a kickass show. It was such an adrenaline high; but, now uh… you know as the adrenaline wears off it has left me just—you know—really tired…”

“You do look really tired,” Chloe said.

“Gee-thanks,” Beca sighed. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”

Concern flickered in Chloe’s crystal blue eyes. “Seriously, you look exhausted, Becs,” Chloe said honestly.

“I’m going to Skype Stacie, I could use her habitual flirting as an ego boost,” snarked the petite woman.

“I’m serious, Becs, you don’t look just one night tired,” Chloe said softly. “Have you been sleeping okay?”

A moment’s hesitation as Beca considers deflecting, but Chloe’s earnest eyes make it impossible to obfuscate. With a heavy sigh she admitted, “I haven’t been sleeping well. Not for awhile. One of the reasons I decided to call; if I’m probably going to be up anyway,  I thought I’d call you.”

Chloe frowned. “But isn’t the bus, like, ridiculously nice? You were bragging about the memory foam mattress and blackout curtains.”

“It is nice,” Beca admitted. “But… it’s not…”

“Not what?”

You, thought Beca. “It’s just hard to relax, to unwind.”

“Is it like what happened in your Junior year? When you had that extra tough class schedule?”

“A bit, but it’s worse this time. My brain won’t shut off.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked. Her concern, quite evident in her voice.

“It started with me worrying about if I was good enough to be performing. Then if my show was professional enough. Then it grew into me worrying about the EP, and if I can deliver it on time, and will anyone like it…”

“So let me help with that,” said Chloe with unreserved confidence. “Yes, yes, yes, and an emphatic YES!”

“Just like that?” Beca snarked.

“Yes,” Chloe said with a shrug.

“If only I was home with you,” Beca mumbled.

“What was that?” Chloe asked.

“Ummm-what?” Beca asked back.

“What did you just say?” Chloe pressed.

“Nothing…” Beca mumbled.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Chloe said

“Fine,” Beca exhaled, hating how raw she felt. “I miss sleeping next to you. I miss your voice. And your dumb little snore.”

“Dumb snore?”  Chloe’s lips twitched into a smile. “I think you meant to say my cute little snore,” corrected the redhead.

“Yeah, that,” Beca huffed a quiet laugh.

“Awww. Well I can’t be there next to you, but…” Chloe tilted her head, her expression softening. “Do you want me to stay on the call with you? I can talk to you until you fall asleep.”

Beca hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah… yeah, that would actually help.”

Chloe shifted, settling in more comfortably. “Okay. Close your eyes, Becs. Just listen to me.”

It had always been easy for Beca to listen to the redhead, so she did as she was told. Breathing deeply as Chloe started rambling about her day—what she had for lunch, how a ridiculous person at work brought a raccoon into the clinic—a raccoon in Brooklyn! She talked about how her plants were doing, that she had added a number of new plants to the apartment to make it feel less empty. That she was thinking about getting a cat. Her voice was warm and familiar, a lullaby for Beca all on its own.

And for the first time in days, Beca finally felt herself start to drift off. As sleep took hold her last thought was that, even from miles away, Chloe was still her safest place.

-(((*)))-

The bus hummed softly as it rolled down the highway, the rhythmic motion combining with Chloe’s melodic voice lulling Beca into a rare, peaceful sleep. 

Now, Beca dreamed.  

No longer was she on a cramped tour bus—instead she was sprawled on a picnic blanket in a sun-dappled park, the air warm and sweet with spring, fresh with the scent of grass and flowers. 

It seemed so real.

It seemed so perfect.

It was easy to lose herself.

The redhead was sitting beside her, laughing at something Beca had just said, her crystal blue eyes crinkling at the corners. The moment stretched, perfect and golden, until Chloe’s expression softened into something tender, vulnerable.  

*“What?”* Beca asked, her brows scrunching together.

*“I love you,”* confessed the redhead, voice barely above a whisper. *“I think I have for years. Maybe since the first time you rolled your eyes at me during your freshman year.”*  

Eyes growing wide, Beca’s chest tightened, warmth flooding through her…

*”What are you saying?”*

*“That I regret never telling you that I love you... that I'm IN love with you.”*

*“You are?”*

*“With all my heart.”*

Beca went to say something, but reality seeped in.  The reality froze and then dissolved around her.

The bus hit a bump, jostling her awake. Her eyelids fluttered open, her brain still foggy, still half-trapped in the dream. But she still heard a soft beautiful voice. Her ears perked up as she realized what she was hearing wasn’t part of any fantasy—it was real. Chloe’s voice, trembling with emotion.  

“—and I know it’s probably stupid, you’re out there becoming famous, living your dreams, and you’re straight and don’t feel the same, but seeing you lying there asleep, so beautiful, I just had to say it to you at least once, even if you won’t actually hear it.

Opening her eyes fully, Beca took in the video image on her laptop. The redhead’s gaze was fixed upward, her fingers twisting in her sweater sleeves as she continued to ramble. With a sniff she wiped away tears that were trailing down her face with her sleeve.

Realization pierced Beca’s exhausted mind; Chloe was ‘confessing’. 

To her!

Right now! 

For real!

Instinctively Beca sat up abruptly, her heart hammering.  

The movement must have caught Chloe’s attention. Her voice faltered as she glanced back at the screen—and froze.  

Their eyes locked.  

For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then Chloe’s face drained of color. “Oh my God.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Beca, I—I didn’t realize you were—I thought you were still—”

Not knowing what else to say, Chloe trailed off. The loudest silence either of them had ever experienced settled around the both of them.

Beca’s mind was blank. 

Static. 

She opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.  

Taking the silence as rejection, Chloe was already backtracking, her words tripping over each other. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—just forget I said anything, please—”

“Chlo…” Beca’s voice a whisper, not noticed by the rambling redhead.

“You know, it was just one of those things that dumb Chloe says—kind of like suggesting we experiment in a tent full of Bellas…”

“Chloe,” Beca said a little louder, but still not loud enough to be heard ove Chloe.

“—I mean you’re famous now. A bonafide music star, and straight—why would you care about me? You’re going to be able to date whoever you want…”

“Chloe!” Beca’s voice was loud and sharp, still rough with sleep. It came out much harsher than she meant for it to. It worked though; Chloe instantly stopped talking.

Another awkward pause settled in, one that quickly weighed heavily on Chloe. As the silence between them continued, it grew deafening. The weight of Chloe’s confession was hanging in the air. For Beca it had her mind whirling in a thousand different directions which rendered her mute. For Chloe it gave her a desperate need to explain; she couldn’t let the silence continue, “Beca… I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Chloe,” Beca interrupted, her voice back to barely being above a whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Just saying this used up all of Beca’s pool of words. She was literally incapable of saying anything else as her mind raced, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She had always known Chloe was special to her, but she had never allowed herself to consider the possibility of something more. And now, with Chloe’s words echoing in her ears, everything felt different.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe whispered, her voice breaking. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… And you… And I… I mean—you…” Chloe began to hyperventilate. “I’m—I’m—I’m—sorry…”

“NO!” Beca shouted, immediately regretting it. She felt so out of control at the moment. “Don’t apologize,” Beca said quickly, her voice firm, too firm, it came out harsh. Panicking at how badly this was going she said, “Chloe, I… I need time to process this.”

Chloe nodded, her tears still falling. “Okay.” She sounded so dejected.

“Get some sleep, Chlo. We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Beca meant it to be comforting, but between performing and sleepiness her voice didn’t sound soft and comforting. She reached out, her fingers brushing the screen as if she could touch Chloe from miles away. “I promise.”

Through her bitter disappointment, Chloe managed a weak smile. “Goodnight, Becs.”

“Goodnight, Chlo.”

As the call ended, Beca leaned back against the bunk, her mind spinning. She stared at the ceiling, the sound of the bus engine fading into the background. 

For the first time in weeks, her mind was blank. Chloe’s confession had changed everything. The adrenaline of the moment wore off, and exhaustion consumed Beca, who fell asleep

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**To Be Continued...**

Chapter Text

Skype Confession

Chapter 2

The Space Between Us

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Chloe sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop balanced precariously on her knees, as she worked on a paper for her Animal Biology class. The apartment was quiet—too quiet, but then it was always quiet now. It had been weeks since Beca had been signed by DJ Khaled and left for her first tour as a rising music star, and the silence left behind was deafening. Chloe missed the sound of Beca’s music drifting through their shoebox sized apartment, and the way the petite woman would hum absentmindedly while making coffee, or working on a mix, even the occasional snarky comment about Chloe’s habit of leaving her shoes in front of the doorway or Amy leaving wet towels everywhere. 

But most of all, Chloe missed her. 

For a little over seven years, Beca had been her best friend, her confidante, her person. Her everything?

And now? 

And now, she was hundreds of miles away, living a life that Chloe could only watch from the sidelines. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of Beca, ecstatic for Beca—she was. Beca deserved every bit of success that was coming her way. She was immensely talented and worked incredibly hard. But the distance was harder than Chloe had anticipated. She hadn’t realized just how much of her life revolved around Beca until she was gone.

Okay, maybe she did, but it had been okay when the small embodiment of a grumpy cat in petite human form had been sleeping next to Chloe in their pullout couch-bed.

Her laptop chimed with an incoming Skype call, and Chloe’s heart leapt. 

It was Beca. 

Using the selfie feature on her iPhone, Chloe quickly smoothed her hair and wiped her eyes, trying to look as put-together as possible before answering. A quick check of her breath, and the redhead was ready to click accept.

“Beca!” she exclaimed, her voice bright despite the ache in her chest. “Oh my gosh, it’s been forever! How are you? How was the show?”

Beca’s face appeared on the screen, her signature smirk firmly in place as she teased the redhead, “It’s been a week and a half, Beale.” 

“See! Forever,” Chloe shot back with the flirty confidence that Beca always brought out of her.. 

“Aww—there’s the redhead logic, I’ve missed so much,” Beca bantered back. That little bit of a brat which Chloe found so adorable.

It caused Chloe’s expression to soften. The redhead sometimes wondered if her pupils actually took the shapes of hearts in these moments, “Aww, I miss you too, Becs.” 

“Not sure that’s what I said,” Beca teased back, in just that way that Beca bantered unique to Chloe.

Two could play that game. “But it’s true,” sassed the redhead. In the silence that followed she looked about, off-camera, before she said in a moment of pure honesty, “It’s still so weird not having you around. The apartment feels so empty without you.”

“Yeah, it’s the same here. This bus is nice, better than ice, but it’s—it’s so empty,” Beca murmured, her chest tightening. “I miss you Chlo. Like, a lot.”

Chloe’s heart swelled at the admission. Beca missed her too.

Is this what it felt like for the Grinch? To literally feel your heart grow three sizes bigger?

She is about to admit just how much she misses Beca, but reconsiders, as she doesn’t want her best friend—secret crush—to feel any regret for living her dream. Instead Chloe asks, “So, how was your performance?”

“The performance was good. Crowd was insane; so much energy it was easy to deliver a kickass show. It was such an adrenaline high; but, now uh… you know as the adrenaline wears off it has left me just—you know—really tired…”

This last comment caused Chloe to really look at Beca, and not through her usual rose-colored glasses. Beca still looked absolutely gorgeous, one of the most beautiful people Chloe had ever met; but Chloe could also see how tired the younger woman looked.

It was her eyes, they were heavy with exhaustion. It was crystal clear just how much exhaustion was weighing on the younger woman. 

“You do look really tired,” Chloe said before she could stop herself. She immediately felt bad for her bluntness. It didn’t help that she saw Beca visibly flinch.

“Gee-thanks,” Beca said with a sigh, even as she tried to cover her reaction with a bit of sarcasm. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”

Concerned she had been a bit too honest, but more concerned by what she was seeing, Chloe kept going, “Seriously, you look exhausted, Becs.”  

“I’m going to Skype Stacie,” snarked the petite brunette. “I could use her habitual flirting as an ego boost.” . 

“You’re such a dork. But seriously, are you okay? You look exhausted,” Chloe said softly, ignoring the attempt at humor. “I’m serious, Becs, you don’t look just one night tired,” She bit her lips before asking, “Have you been sleeping okay?”

A moment’s hesitation and Chloe knows Beca is considering making another joke or denying what is plain for Chloe to see. Instinctively the redhead widened her eyes in an attempt to convey how serious she was being. With a visible sigh Beca admitted, “I haven’t been sleeping well. Not for a while. It’s one of the reasons I decided to call; if I’m going to be up anyway, I thought I’d call you.”

This shocked Chloe, so she asked for clarification, “But isn’t your bus, like ridiculously nice? You were bragging about the memory foam mattress and blackout curtains.”

“It is nice,” Beca nodded, then audibly sighed, “But… it’s not…”

“Not what?”

Shrugging, Beca answered,“It’s just hard to relax, you know, to unwind.”

That phrase triggered a memory for the redhead. She asked, “Is this like what happened in your Junior year? When you had that extra tough class schedule?”

Another shrug from the brunette. “A bit, but it’s worse this time. My brain won’t shut off.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked. Her concern, quite evident in her voice.

“It started with me worrying about if I was good enough to be performing. Then if my show was professional enough. Then it grew into me worrying about the EP, and if I can deliver it on time, and will anyone like it…”

With each worry Beca listed, Chloe’s smile grew warmer. With complete assurity, Chloe responded, “So let me help with that.” Chloe held up her hand, and counted with her fingers as she said, “Yes, yes, yes, and an emphatic YES!”

“Just like that?” Beca asked with skepticism..

“Yes,” Chloe simply replied with a shrug.

“If only I was home with you,” Beca mumbled as she turned her head.

“What was that?” Chloe asked, though she was pretty sure she had heard Beca.

“Ummm-what?” Beca asked back.

“What did you just say?” Chloe pressed.

“Nothing…” Beca mumbled.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Chloe pushed more. She knew that Beca sometimes needed a gentle nudge, to come clean.

As often was the case, Chloe could see Beca visibly surrender. She sighed, “Fine! I miss sleeping next to you. I miss your voice. And your dumb little snore.”

Sometimes even Chloe was surprised by Beca. She definitely wasn’t expecting Beca to be so honest. Chloe’s lips twitched into a smile, as she used humor to ease any worry her younger friend might feel after being so open and vulnerable. “Dumb snore?” Chloe joked. “I think you meant to say my cute little snore.”  

“Yeah, that,” Beca admitted with a quiet laugh.

“Awww. Well I can’t be there next to you, but…” Chloe offered with a warm smile she saved only for Beca, “Do you want me to stay on the call with you? I can talk to you until you fall asleep.”

“Yeah… yeah,” Beca nodded, and with a shy smile said, “that would actually help.”

Her smile growing, the redhead moved herself into a more comfortable position. She finished adjusting the pillows behind herself and settled in to start helping the most important person in her life. “Okay. Close your eyes, Becs. Just listen to me.”

With that Chloe launched into a story about her week, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. She started with what she had for lunch, or more accurately the little deli she had discovered. She knew it was exactly the type of place Beca would love. The petite brunette really likes a good sandwich. 

“Oh! Becs! You’re not gonna believe what happened after lunch,” said the redhead, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “This guy brought in a raccoon. A raccoon, Beca. In Brooklyn. Can you even imagine?”

Beca, half-asleep and wrapped in her Barden hoodie, blinked. “That… feels illegal.”

“Probably,” Chloe giggled. “But the little guy was so cute. His name was Bandit.” She paused, then smirked. “He kinda reminded me of you.”

“Excuse me?” Beca opened one eye.

“Well, he was small, feisty, and had a serious bite.” Chloe tilted her head playfully. “Sound familiar?”

Beca scoffed. “I do not bite.”

“Mm-hmm,” Chloe hummed, unconvinced. “Tell that to my shoulder.”

“That happened once!” The redhead answered with her right eyebrow raising, while she gave a smoldering look. 

“Fine,” Beca admitted through a yawn, “Three times.”

“Five,” corrected Chloe, “which is four more times than the raccoon.”

Beca’s face turned red, making Chloe giggle. “Anyway,” she continued, “I had to be careful, but he was adorable. Just like you.”

“Not sure these attacks on my character are helping me sleep.” Chloe noticed Beca’s eyes drooping, her head nodding slightly as she slowly succumbed to sleep.

“Okay, okay,” conceded the redhead. “But he was adorable, like another little person I know.” She began looking around the apartment. “You know you might not recognize the apartment when you’re here next. The place was feeling a bit empty,” Chloe couldn’t help the note of sadness that colored her voice. On the bright side, as Chloe spoke, she noticed Beca’s eyes drooping, her head nodding slightly as she struggled to stay awake.

“Uhh…I might have gone a little overboard with the plants,” Chloe admitted, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “The apartment just felt kinda empty, you know? So I got a few more.”

She smiled as she saw Beca’s breathing began to even out. “Okay, like…a dozen. But they look so nice. The pothos are thriving, the fiddle-leaf fig is finally happy, and I even got a little snake plant for the corner between the windows, and a Rabbit's Foot Fern for the nightstand on your side of the bed.”

Looking around some more, “The place is beginning to look like a greenhouse,” she chuckled. “I guess I just like having more living things in the apartment. I was thinking…maybe I should get a cat. You know it’s a little lonely here,” Chloe admitted softly. “A cat would make it feel less empty.”

That this admission did not evoke any reaction, told Chloe that Beca had slipped into sleep. This made her so happy. Knowing that Beca was a light sleeper when she first goes under, Chloe continued to talk about what type of cat, a Siamese, she would want to get. Then she told Beca about the litter of puppies she’d helped deliver at the veterinary clinic last week. She had to contain her excitement as she told the story, so her voice wouldn’t rise with excitement as she described the tiny, wriggling bundles of fur. 

The redhead talked a good fifteen minutes more, before she paused. She missed Beca so much, she was willing to talk to her sleeping form all night rather than end the call. In the quiet glow of her laptop screen, Chloe sat watching as Beca continued to sleep  on the other end of their Skype call. The usual sharpness in her expression had softened, her face relaxed in a way Chloe rarely got to see. The stress, the exhaustion—both had started to melt away, leaving only peaceful stillness behind.

Chloe sighed, settling deeper into her pillows. Seeing Beca like this made her heart ache in the best way. She looked so beautiful.

My Sleeping Beauty.

A memory surfaced—lying in bed as a child, her mom’s soft voice filling the room, singing her to sleep. The Rainbow Connection had always been her favorite. The song had felt like a lullaby, a promise that dreams and love were out there, waiting.

Without thinking, Chloe began to hum, her voice quiet at first, then growing into a soft melody.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows

And what's on the other side?

Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,

And rainbows have nothing to hide.

Her voice is soft and full of warmth as she sings to Beca, who’s breathing remains slow and even. Chloe felt so lucky—getting to watch Beca in a way few  rarely do, unguarded and peaceful.

So we've been told and some choose to believe it

I know they're wrong, wait and see.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, carrying all the love she feels but couldn’t say out loud just yet. She had always loved this song—how it spoke of dreams, of believing in something bigger. It reminded her of Beca, of the quiet hopes she knew her best friend kept buried under sarcasm and eye-rolls.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on the morning star?

Somebody thought of that and someone believed it,and look what it's done so far

As she sang, her gaze traced the soft curves of Beca’s face—the way her dark lashes rested against her cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. Even in sleep, there was something effortlessly beautiful about her.

What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing?

And what do we think we might see?

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

the lovers, the dreamers and me.

Her voice wrapped around the words like a gentle embrace, pouring warmth into every note. Hoping to convey the feelings of love and pride she has for the young woman.

All of us under its spell,

we know that it's probably magic.... 

Beca stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her breathing deep and even. Chloe smiled, continuing her quiet serenade, hoping—just maybe—that even in sleep, Beca could feel how much she cared.

The voice might be one and the same.

I've heard it too many times to ignore it.

It's something that I'm supposed to be.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

the lovers, the dreamers and me.

La, la la, La, la la la, La Laa, la la, La, La la laaaaaaa

A tear slipped down Chloe’s cheek as she let the last note fade, watching as Beca stirred just slightly, a sleepy murmur escaping her lips.

“I Love you Beca Mitchell. I’m in Love with you,” Chloe couldn’t believe she just said that out loud, to Beca. Granted Beca was asleep, but still she was right there. The sight of the sleeping woman bringing a smile to her face.

“I love you,” Chloe repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I have for years. Maybe since the first time you rolled your eyes at me during your freshman year.” The memory of Beca at the Activities Fair bringing a smile and a chuckle.

However Chloe’s smile faded, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to cry. “I miss you too, Beca. More than you know. It’s like… I keep expecting to hear your voice in the apartment, or to see you curled up on the couch with your headphones on. And sometimes, I swear I can smell your perfume, and it just… it kills me.”

“I regret never telling you that I Love you... that I'm IN LOVE with you…” Chloe felt she really needed to convey this wasn’t platonic love she was feeling. “With all my heart.”

But Chloe wasn’t done. The words spilled out of her like a dam breaking, her voice trembling with emotion as she stared at the ceiling of her crappy apartment. “I regret so much, Beca. I regret not telling you how much you mean to me. I regret not saying it when I had the chance. Because you’re gone—and I know it’s probably stupid, you’re out there becoming famous, living your dreams, and you’re straight and don’t feel the same, but seeing you lying there asleep, so beautiful, I just had to say it to you at least once, even if you won’t actually hear it.”

Movement caught Chloe’s attention. Her voice faltered as she looked at the screen—and into Beca’s ocean storm blue eyes.  Eyes that were big as saucers in shock.

Their eyes locked and Chloe could feel her eyes growing just as wide.

For a heartbeat, Chloe couldn’t move, as her face drained of color, and she could feel the onset of nausea. “Oh my God!” She cried as herhand flew to her mouth. “Beca, I—I didn’t realize you were—I thought you were still—” Not knowing what else to say, Chloe trailed off. The loudest silence either of them had ever experienced settled over the call.

Chloe’s mind was chaotic. A thousand voices in her head shouting to be heard

Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!

Chloe opened her mouth, and nothing came out.  She saw Beca do the same, and Chloe realized Beca was having trouble articulating how incredibly dumb she was. How Chloe had been a creep and broken a trust.

Chloe stumbled over her words in her haste to apologize, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—just forget I said anything, please—You know, it was just one of those things that dumb Chloe says—kind of like suggesting we experiment in a tent full of Bellas…—I mean you’re famous now. A bonafide music star, and straight—very straight—why would you care about me? You’re going to be able to date whoever you want…” Tears streamed down Chloe’s face as she rambled , her hands clutching the laptop. Beca was staring up out of the screen in bewilderment. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Beca could hear it. 

“Chloe!” Beca’s voice was loud and sharp, and rough with anger. It was harsh in a way Chloe never heard directed at her. It shocked Chloe into silence.

The silence weighed heavily on Chloe and quickly became deafening. She needed to explain, she NEEDED to make things right; she couldn’t let the silence continue, “Beca… I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Chloe,” Beca interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.” And with that she lapsed back into the terrible silence that had Chloe hearing nothing but the cacophony of regrets and derision.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe whispered, her voice breaking. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… And you… And I… I mean—you…” Chloe began to hyperventilate. “I’m—I’m—I’m—sorry…”

“NO!” Beca shouted, “Don’t apologize,” Beca said, her voice firm, matching the harsh judgment in Chloe’s head. It was becoming quite clear to the redhead that she her worst fears were coming true. She had lost Beca, even as a friend.

Panicking she barely heard Beca say, “Chloe, I… I need time to process this.”

Numb to everything Chloe nodded, her tears freely flowing, as she mumbled, “Okay.” She didn’t hear anything else Beca said, but managed a weak smile. “Goodnight, Becs,” before the screen went back to desktop mode as the call ended.

Time ceased to mean anything as Chloe sat in the silent darkness of her apartment, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt raw, exposed, like she had just ripped her heart out and handed it to Beca on a silver platter. And now, she was terrified of what Beca would do with it.

She began to spiral, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. It was obvious that Beca didn’t feel the same way. Why did she ask for time? What if she just wanted time to let her down gently? What if this was the perfect excuse for Beca to distance herself, to fully leave her behind as she soared to stardom? What if she wanted to end their friendship?

She curled into herself, pressing a hand over her mouth as if that could take the words back.

But she couldn’t.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she lay there, alone in the dark, her heart breaking in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from. And just like a Southern rain storm, a few drops of tears became a torrent as Chloe Beale bawled harder than she had ever done before.

-(((*)))-

The tears would eventually end, and exhaustion set in, but ironically sleep now evaded Chloe. After an hour of tossing and turning, unable to sleep, Chloe grabbed her phone and pressed Aubrey’s contact. It was late, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to someone, to confess what she had done before it consumed her.

On the third ring, Aubrey picked up. “Chloe? It’s after midnight. What’s wrong?”

Chloe burst into a fresh set of tears, the words tumbling out of her in a rush. “Aubrey, I messed up. I told Beca how I feel. I told her I love her, and now she’s going to hate me, and I’ve ruined everything, and—”

She heard a muffled voice in the background.

Was that Stacie? It sounded like Stacie…

She distinctly heard Aubrey tell someone it was her on the phone, followed by the sound of the phone being passed from one hand to another. Then Aubrey was back on the line, her voice calm and steady. “Chloe, breathe. Start from the beginning. What happened?”

All curiosity about someone sharing Aubrey’s bed disappeared as the reason she called flooded back into her consciousness. She took a deep breath, her voice shaking as she recounted the Skype call with Beca. She told Aubrey everything—how she had confessed her feelings, how Beca had been too shocked to respond, how she had asked for time to process it all. By the time she finished, she was crying again, her heart aching with the weight of her fear.

Aubrey listened patiently, her voice soft but firm. “Chloe, listen to me. You haven’t ruined anything. Beca’s not going to hate you. She’s just… Beca. You know how she is. She’s always had trouble dealing with her feelings. She just needs time to figure things out.”

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Chloe whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Then you’ll deal with it,” Aubrey said simply. “But you haven’t lost her, Chloe. Beca loves you. Maybe not in the way you want her to, but she does. And no matter what happens, she’s not going to walk away from you. You’re her best friend. That means something to her.”

Chloe sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Aubrey said firmly. “Now, get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Okay,” Chloe murmured, her voice small. “Thanks, Bree.”

“Anytime, Chloe. Goodnight.”

“Tell Stacie I’m sorry for calling in the middle of the night, and wish her a good night for me,” said Chloe.

“I will,” yawned Aubrey, not realizing what she had just confirmed. “Get some sleep ChloBear. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Thanks Bree. Good night, and sorry.”

As the call ended, Chloe lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Aubrey’s words had helped, but the fear still lingered, a heavy weight in her chest. She didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain: things between her and Beca would never be the same.

And as much as that terrified her, a small part of her couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something new.

---

To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

Skype Confession

Chapter 3

The Morning After - Chloe

---

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a pale glow across Chloe’s cramped studio apartment. The pale light painted soft lines across Chloe’s eyes, gently waking her from a restless and ultimately fruitless sleep. She groaned as she rolled away from the light; her body still heavy with exhaustion. All night her mind had been a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying the Skype call with Beca over and over again. What little sleep she had managed had done nothing to chase away the ache in her chest. 

Every time she had closed her eyes, Beca’s recoil at Chloe’s confession replayed in her mind, getting worse each time. The harshness of the brunette’s words echoed in Chloe’s head—sharp, distant, final. Turning onto her back, and staring up at the ceiling, Chloe willed herself to move, to start the day, but the ache in her heart kept her pinned. The bed felt colder than usual, emptier. With a shaky breath, she curled into herself, dreading the hours ahead.

Chloe curled up in bed, her body tense and trembling. Her stomach twisted painfully, a deep nausea settling in her core. She swallowed hard, but the rising bile burned her throat. Panic gripped her as she threw back the covers and bolted for the bathroom. She barely made it before she collapsed to her knees, retching violently. The sour taste lingered as she rested her forehead against the cool porcelain, breathing heavily. Tears stung her eyes. She felt weak, exhausted already, and the day had barely begun. With a shaky sigh, she flushed, knowing this was far from over.

“I regret never telling you that I love you... that I’m IN love with you.”

The words echoed in her mind, each repetition sending a fresh wave of nausea through her. She groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach as she got up. The room spun slightly, and she took a deep breath, willing herself not to throw up again. 

Feeling gross being on the bathroom floor, Chloe forced herself up, her limbs shaky and unsteady. She braced herself against the sink, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. Dark circles framed her tired eyes. With a deep breath, she brushed her teeth, the minty foam helping to erase the bitter taste of bile. She brushed her teeth twice, and then gargled mouthwash. She then splashed cold water on her face,, while also grabbing sips from the palms of her hands. The chill of the water jolting her slightly more awake.

She had a full day ahead, whether she was ready or not. Dragging herself to the kitchenette, she moved like a ghost, sluggish and drained. She made a piece of plain toast and brewed peppermint tea, hoping for relief. Nibbling the toast without enthusiasm, she sipped the warm tea, but the tight knot of unease in her chest refused to loosen.

Chloe picked at the last crumbs of toast, washing them down with a final sip of tea. With a deep breath, she went to her nightstand for her phone.

No calls.

No texts.

Nothing from Beca.

Her heart sank. She ran a hand through her tangled red hair, sighing as she headed back to the bathroom. Beca had asked for time—Chloe understood that. But the silence felt unbearable, leaving her trapped in an anxious limbo, waiting for something—anything—to break it.

She moved on autopilot, her body acting while her mind remained elsewhere. Grabbing a clean towel from the shelf, Chloe barely registered the soft fabric in her hands. Turning the shower knob, she stepped in without hesitation, not bothering to wait for the water to warm. A sharp gasp left Chloe’s lips as icy droplets crashed against her skin, but she didn’t flinch. She just stood there, letting the cold seep into her bones, numbing everything—her exhaustion, her nausea, her aching heart. 

In time, steam eventually filled the space as the water turned warm, but Chloe barely noticed. She just kept standing, lost in thought. Chloe stood beneath the steaming water, eyes closed, letting it cascade over her as if it could wash away the exhaustion clinging to her skin, desperately hoping to wash away the disastrous Skype call with Beca. Her chest ached with the weight of everything left unsaid, the silence between them heavier than any argument. The heat loosened her tense muscles but did nothing for the hollow numbness inside. She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, hoping for clarity, for something to shake her from this fog. But when she finally shut off the water, she still felt just as lost.

After her long, scalding shower, Chloe dried off and slipped into her scrubs, the routine feeling hollow. She moved mechanically, folding the bed back into the couch. It wasn’t really necessary—she’d pull it out again that night—but she hated leaving it out, hated the mess. At least this was something she could control.

Once finished, she ran a brush through her damp red hair before pulling it into a messy ponytail. With a deep breath, she grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and stepped outside. 

Brooklyn was already alive with noise and movement, but Chloe barely registered any of it. This despite the streets already being their usual chaotic mess—honking cabs, hurried commuters, distant sirens—but Chloe barely noticed. She kept her head down, her mind replaying last night’s conversation on an endless loop. Beca’s words echoed in her ears, the uncertainty cutting deeper with each step.

She walked on autopilot, her thoughts so tangled she barely registered where she was going. Twice, strangers had to stop her from stepping into traffic, their hands gripping her arms as they muttered warnings. She mumbled apologies, but it barely registered. Her heart felt heavy, her body sluggish. The world around her kept moving, but she felt stuck—waiting, dreading, hoping.

Pushing open the door to Caring Paws Veterinary Clinic, Chloe was hit by the familiar scent of antiseptic and pet fur which always greeted her. Usually the smells didn’t bother her, but this morning her already fragile stomach roiled at the scents. Pausing for a second just inside the front door, Chloe centered herself, and pushed down the wave of nausea. Before her the usual morning bustle of the clinic was in full swing—phones ringing, dogs barking, customers with all manner of pets, including various birds, cats, and even a snake, and the hum of conversation—but as she stepped further inside, her coworkers paused. Abby, the receptionist, had been talking to Susan, the Office Manager, both focused on Chloe, who was usually a bright presence, always smiling, always full of energy. Today, she was different. Her shoulders sagged, her expression was distant, and the usual warmth in her eyes was missing.

“Hey, Chloe, are you okay?” Abby, the receptionist, asked gently.

Chloe forced a small smile. “Yeah, just tired.” She hoped Abby believed her, but the concern in their eyes told her they didn’t believe her.

”Are you sure?” Susan followed up.

Chloe nodded quickly, not trusting herself to say more without her voice betraying her. She tightened her grip on her bag and took a deep breath, willing herself to keep it together. The last thing she needed was her coworkers fussing over her when she could barely make sense of her own emotions.

“I’m fine, really,” she insisted, forcing another small smile. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

Abby and Susan exchanged a glance, clearly unconvinced, but neither pushed further. Instead, Susan gave her a nod. “Alright. But if you need a break or anything, just say the word.”

“Thanks,” said Chloe. She appreciated the offer, even if she knew stepping away from work wouldn’t fix anything. She mumbled a quick thanks before making her way toward the back, where the kennels and exam rooms were. The routine of caring for animals would at least keep her hands busy—maybe even distract her mind.

Pushing open the door to the clinic’s small locker room, Chloe exhaled as she stepped inside. She just needed a moment to collect herself, but of course, she wasn’t alone. Jenna, one of the other vet techs, was by the coffee maker, stirring in sugar.

“Hey, Chloe,” Jenna said, eyeing her carefully. “You okay?”

Swallowing an annoyed sigh, Chloe forced a neutral expression. “I’m fine. Just really tired.”

She opened her locker and shoved her purse inside, trying to ignore the concerned look Jenna was giving her.

“You sure? If you need anything—”

“I just want to work,” Chloe cut in, shutting her locker with a little more force than. intended. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Really, I’m good.”

Jenna hesitated but finally nodded. “Alright… but if you change your mind, I’m here.”

Nodding, Chloe flashed one more forced smile, eager to move on, she pushed through the door and headed toward the kennels.

Chloe slipped into her daily routine, letting the familiar tasks take over. It was easier this way—focusing on the animals, the structured workflow, rather than the tangled mess in her head.

She started with the kennels, moving quietly through the rows of animals. Some were curled up asleep, others perked up at her presence, tails wagging or ears twitching in curiosity. She checked each chart carefully, ensuring every animal had been fed and watered. A few needed medication, so she administered doses with practiced efficiency, murmuring soothing words as she worked. The pets scheduled for surgery were next, and she double-checked that they were in the right queue, their pre-op instructions carefully followed.

After that, she glanced at her instructions for the day. Lab work. Not her favorite.

With a resigned sigh, she gathered her supplies and set to work, drawing blood from a nervous beagle, collecting urine from a grumpy tabby, and—worst of all—gathering stool samples for testing. She wrinkled her nose but powered through, ignoring the unpleasantness. It was part of the job, and at least it kept her hands busy.

Still, despite the distractions, her mind kept drifting. Every quiet moment left space for the silence from Beca to creep back in. She bit her lip, shaking off the thought as she moved to the next task. Right now, all she could do was keep going—one step, one patient, one moment at a time.

The morning passed in a blur. The clinic was unusually quiet, with only a few appointments scheduled, so Chloe went through the motions, her mind elsewhere as she tended to the animals. With little else to do, she cleaned kennels, filled food and water bowls, and helped with a routine check-up for a golden retriever, but her heart wasn’t in it. 

Around midday, her boss, Angela Cooper, approached her. Angela was a kind woman in her late forties, with a no-nonsense attitude and a soft spot for her employees. She took one look at Chloe and frowned.

“Chloe, honey, you look like you’re about to fall over,” Angela said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, really. Just didn’t sleep well,”answered Chloe with a quick nod, though her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. 

The older Veterinarian studied her favorite Vet Tech for a moment before sighing. “Look, it’s a slow day. Why don’t you go home and get some rest? You’ve been such a trooper coming in, but there’s no point in you being here if you’re not feeling well.”

At first, Chloe resisted, insisting she was fine, but Angela’s concern was persistent. Glancing around the clinic, in a last bid to stay, Chloe asked, “But… what if you need me?”

“We’ll manage,” Angela said firmly. “Go home, Chloe. Take care of yourself.”

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, she gave in. With great reluctance Chloe made her way to the locker room, grabbed her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. As she headed for the door, she forced a small smile, as she gave a quick wave to Abby and Susan. “See you guys tomorrow.”

“Take care of yourself, Chloe,” Susan said softly.

“Please reach out if you need anything, Chloe,” Abby said.

“Thanks Abby, but I’m good.”

The receptionist gave her a worried look but didn’t push further. Chloe just nodded and stepped outside.

The weight of the day pressed heavier with each step. Her feet dragged as she walked through the streets of Brooklyn, her thoughts circling in endless loops. She kept checking her phone, hoping—praying—for a message from Beca. But the screen remained stubbornly blank.

The sun shone brightly, casting golden light over the city. Normally, a day like this would lift her spirits, filling her with warmth. But today, it felt pale. The warmth on her face was distant, the beauty of the day muted by the ache in her chest.

She stopped at a small park along the way, sinking onto a bench. The trees swayed in the breeze, birds chirped, life moved on around her—but she felt stuck. She stared ahead not seeing anything, her mind tangled in worry, heartache, and uncertainty.

She checked her phone again. 

Still nothing.

She hated waiting, but what else could she do?

Chloe sat there for an hour, the minutes ticking by as she alternated between staring at her phone and staring at the ground. The park was peaceful, the sound of birds chirping and children laughing in the distance, but Chloe felt none of the usual joy those sounds usually brought her. 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally stood up and continued her walk home. The apartment felt emptier than ever when she stepped inside, the silence pressing in on her. She missed the sound of Beca’s music, the way she would hum under her breath as she worked on a new mix. She missed the way they would curl up on the foldout couch bed after a long day, Beca’s head resting on her shoulder as they watched bad reality TV.

The thought of the foldout bed made her chest ache. Without thinking, Chloe pulled it out, the familiar creak of the hinges bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. She grabbed one of Beca’s old oversized shirts from the laundry basket—a soft, worn-in thing that the petite brunette used to wear around the apartment. It still carried a faint trace of Beca’s scent, and Chloe buried her face in it, inhaling deeply.

The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable. She curled up on the foldout bed, clutching the shirt to her chest as she cried. The weight of everything—her confession, Beca’s silence, the emptiness of the apartment—crushed her, and she sobbed until she felt like she had no tears left.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted into a fitful sleep, her dreams filled with fragmented images of Beca—her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about music. 

Chloe woke to the sound of rapid pounding on her door. She sat up, disoriented, her heart racing. The room was dark, the sun having set while she slept. She glanced at the clock on the wall—it was past 8 PM.

The pounding came again, louder this time. Chloe wiped her face, her cheeks still damp from her tears, and stumbled to the door. She opened it, her breath catching in her throat as she saw who was standing there.

Beca…

To Be Continued 

Chapter Text

Skype Confession

Chapter 4

The Morning After - Beca

------

Beca woke to the absence of the engines rumblings and the stillness that meant the bus was parked. She blinked against the morning light filtering through the blinds on the windows, momentarily disoriented. 

Then it hit her.

Chloe.

Memories of  Chloe’s confession, the shock on her own face, the awkward exchange that had followed. 

She lay there, her heart hammering as her mind replayed every second of last night’s disaster. 

It started out so well, perfect even. With Chloe’s help Beca had been able to fall asleep mid-Skype call, something she truly needed. It had felt so refreshing and peaceful only to half-wake and hear Chloe say…

I love you. 

It completely boggles Beca’s mind that Chloe had confessed she loved her. Not in the casual, friendly way that Chloe always showers love on people. No, this declaration was different. 

Raw. 

Real. 

The kind of thing you say from the bottom of your heart. And Beca, in true Beca fashion, had frozen, eyes wide, mouth dry, barely managing a coherent thought.

Chloe’s honesty had frazzled Beca’s brain. It had honestly panicked her and led to her abruptly ending the video call.

Now the morning after, in the too-quiet stillness of the tour bus, she feels the weight of it all pressing down. She wants to reach for her phone and fix it, but doesn’t know how. How does she come back from how she reacted? How does she undo the hurt she might have caused her best friend?

Tearing her eyes away from the ceiling, Beca looked over at her iPhone on the nightstand. Staring at the dark screen of her phone. No messages. No missed calls. Chloe hasn’t reached out. The thought makes her stomach twist.

Beca groaned, rolling onto her back and pulling a pillow over her face and screamed her frustration. 

She had screwed up. 

Bad. 

Between exhaustion and sheer panic, she’d responded like an idiot—something stilted and awkward, her voice harsh with lack of sleep. She’d fumbled her way through some excuse about needing time to process and hung up too fast.

Now she had no idea what to do.

She sat up, rubbing her face, her stomach twisting with embarrassment. 

Did Chloe regret it? 

Would she pretend it never happened? 

Or worse—think Beca didn’t want it to have happened? 

Beca dragged a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily. 

She can’t help wondering if last night was a mistake—a slip by the redhead, fueled by nostalgia or a moment of weakness. But deep down, Beca knows better. 

Chloe meant it. 

And what terrifies Beca the most isn’t the confession itself—it’s that some part of her has always known.

And now, she wouldn’t be able to ignore it anymore.

Did she want to ignore it?

No.

She had to fix this. 

She just wasn’t sure how. She groaned, burying her face in her hands. 

“I regret never telling you that I love you... that I’m IN love with you.”

Chloe’s words echoed in her mind, each repetition sending a fresh wave of panic through the petite brunette. Beca had always known Chloe was special to her, but she had never allowed herself to consider the possibility of something more. And now, with Chloe’s confession hanging in the air, everything felt different.

She buried her face in her pillow, guilt twisting in her stomach. She should’ve said something more. Anything. But the truth was, she had no idea how to respond. Not because she didn’t care—because she did—but hearing it out loud, so unexpectedly, had sent her spiraling. 

And now? 

Now, she just felt awful.

Sitting up, Beca kept thinking about how she had ended the call with Chloe in tears. She had told Chloe she needed time to process everything, but now she was kicking herself for not saying more. Chloe had bared her soul, and Beca had essentially shut her down. 

Beca stared at her phone, turning it over in her hands. She should call Chloe. Or at least text. But every time she thought about it, her stomach twisted. What could she even say? Hey, sorry for acting like an idiot last night? That wouldn’t fix this. Nothing over the phone would. She needed to see Chloe, to hear her voice, to figure out what this actually meant.

Still, she shouldn’t let any more time pass. Chloe was probably spiraling, overthinking, hurting.

With a deep breath, Beca finally reached for her phone—only to find it dead.

She frowned. She knew she’d plugged it in.

Her mind raced. 

Great. Now what?

Beca groaned, pressing the power button on her phone again and again. 

Nothing. 

Dead. 

She had plugged it in, so why hadn’t it charged? Before she could even think about a solution, the bus door swung open.

“Morning, SUPERSTAR!” Theo’s voice rang out as he stepped inside, grinning.

Following closely behind were Beca’s ‘glam squad’, Dani, her hairstylist, hauled a case full of tools, and Liv, her makeup artist, followed with an overstuffed suitcase of makeup supplies.

Beca barely had time to process before Theo clapped his hands. “Time to make you look fabulous!”

Beca sighed as both immediately got to work. 

“Theo. What the hell is this?” Beca protested.

“Your glam squad, obviously.” Theo grinned. 

“I know who they are,” Beca sighed. “Morning Liv, morning Dani.”

“Morning Beca!” Both women said with way too much energy and enthusiasm.

“What I meant is why are they here?” Beca asked.

“You’ve got two interviews today, and I refuse to let you look like you just rolled out of bed.” 

 Beca scowled. “I did just roll out of bed.”

“Exactly my point.” Theo snapped his fingers, and before Beca could protest, Dani was already running fingers through her hair while Liv set up brushes and palettes.

Beca sighed, slumping into the chair they’d pulled up. As Dani started working on her hair, she stared at her phone again. Maybe once this was over, she could go see Chloe. Figure out if last night’s confession was really what she thought it was—and what she was going to do about it.

“This seems like a lot for just two interviews,” sighed Beca.

“Two interviews this morning,” said Theo, “a meet-and-greet with fans after lunch, a meeting with Devon Fox with PR about the EP, and we’re filming some behind-the-scenes content for the YouTube video.” 

“Oh.”

“I did tell you this last night,” Theo reminded his client.

“Oh-yeah,” Beca said under her breath. “I totally was listening.”

“This is important, Beca. All of this is for your EP release.”

Beca sighed, and reluctantly let Dani perform her magic on her hair. She glanced at her phone, which was still dark, and felt a pang of guilt. She needed to talk to Chloe, but the day was quickly filling up.

“Do I have a show tonight?” Beca asked, hoping for a break in her schedule.

With a sigh that told Beca he had told her this, Theo shook his head. “No, Khaled has a guest appearance on The Voice tonight, so you’re off for the next three nights.”

Beca’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. Get me a plane ticket to New York.”Looking perplexed, Theo walked over to the window and hit a button to raise the blinds. “Beca, we’re already in Newark. Our next show is here in three days, and then we have a series of shows in New York City.”

Beca’s jaw dropped as she realized they were practically in Chloe’s backyard. She stood up, ready to leave right then and there, but Theo stopped her.

“You have obligations today,” he reminded her. “The interviews, the meet-ups with fans, the filming—you can’t just bail on this.”

Beca sighed, running a hand through her hair before shoving her dead phone into Theo’s hands. “Fix it. Or get me a new one. I don’t care—just make it work.”

Theo arched a brow but took the phone without question. “On it, boss.”

With that settled, Beca exhaled and slumped into the nearest seat. “Alright, fine. Do your thing,” she muttered, surrendering herself to Dani and Liv.

Dani immediately started fussing with her hair, sectioning it off while muttering something about “tour hair maintenance” and “heat damage.” Meanwhile, Liv was already unpacking an alarming amount of makeup.

“You look tired,” Liv observed, tilting Beca’s chin to inspect her face.

“Gee, thanks.”

Liv smirked. “No problem. Lucky for you, I have just the thing for dark circles and the emotional turmoil you’re clearly hiding under them.”

Beca huffed but didn’t argue. Let them work their magic. It wasn’t like she had the energy to fight it today. Her mind was elsewhere, still stuck on the night before—Chloe’s voice, her words, the way Beca had completely screwed up her response.

She needed to fix it. She would fix it.

But for now, she was stuck. Obligations first. Damage control later.

As Dani’s curling iron heated up and Liv started dabbing at her face, Beca shut her eyes, trying to push aside the anxious flutter in her chest.

One thing at a time.

As Dani ran a brush through Beca’s hair, she heard her start to hum softly.

“That’s lovely,” Dani said, pausing. “What is it?”

Without thinking, Beca answered by singing.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows

And what’s on the other side?

Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,

And rainbows have nothing to hide.

Liv, mid-way through blending Beca’s foundation, smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

Beca smiled in thanks as she continued.

So we've been told and some choose to believe it

I know they're wrong, wait and see.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

The lovers, the dreamers and me.

“I love that song,” Dani said. “Kermit the Frog, right?”

“It is!” Liv said excitedly. “I’ve loved that song as a child. What brought that song to mind?”

Beca hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know why, but it’s been running through my head all morning. I haven’t thought of that song in forever.”

Dani and Liv exchanged a glance, but neither said anything.

Beca simply kept humming, lost in thought.

-(((*)))-

Theo returned just in time for Beca’s first interview, a call-in with Rutgers University’s radio station. He hovered nearby, watching closely as she slipped effortlessly into her professional mode. Despite whatever was going on in her head, she was sharp, engaging, and full of anecdotes about her time at Barden’s radio station. She even cracked a few jokes about her questionable taste in music back then, making the hosts laugh.

As Beca settled into her interview with Rutgers University’s radio station, Theo quietly ushered in a photographer and videographer. They moved discreetly, setting up their equipment in the background, their cameras trained on Beca as she spoke.

This was all part of Theo’s vision—authentic, behind-the-scenes content for her next video release. Fans loved seeing the real Beca, those unguarded moments where she wasn’t on stage or perfectly styled. Just her, doing what she did best.

Beca, of course, made a pointed effort to ignore them. She barely spared them a glance, focusing instead on the interview, speaking animatedly about her time at Barden’s radio station. She knew the game—pretend they weren’t there, act natural. Forced content never played well, and she wasn’t about to start posing just because a camera was rolling.

By the time the second interview rolled around, Theo had relaxed slightly, though he still felt a flicker of concern. This one was in person—a big-deal online music magazine with a massive following on YouTube and TikTok. The kind of exposure she needed. The kind of interview that could go south if she wasn’t on her game.

But, as always, Beca delivered.

She leaned back in her chair, answering questions with her usual mix of wit and charm. She never took herself too seriously, always riding the line between confidence and humility. Her self-deprecating humor made her seem relatable, almost like she was letting the interviewer in on some inside joke.

Theo watched as the interviewer visibly relaxed, drawn in by her effortless cool. It was a skill Beca didn’t even realize she had—an ability to make people feel like they knew her, like they were part of something.

The photographer moved around quietly, snapping shots of her mid-laugh, mid-thought, her fingers absentmindedly tapping on the desk. The videographer caught the slight tilt of her head as she listened to a question, the way her expression shifted from thoughtful to amused.

Theo watched it all with a satisfied nod. This was exactly what they needed—Beca in her element, unfiltered but still on.

By the time the interview wrapped, Beca finally leaned back and shot Theo a look. “How long are they gonna be lurking?”

“All day,” Theo said, grinning.

Beca groaned but didn’t argue. She knew the drill.

So did Theo, who let out a quiet breath. Whatever storm was brewing in Beca’s mind, at least for now, she was keeping it off the air.

-(((*)))-

When it was time for lunch, Theo set a takeout container in front of Beca, along with a fresh bottle of water. “Figured you’d forget to eat, so here.”

Cracking open the lid, Beca inhaled the scent of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables. “Thanks dude. You’re not wrong.” She stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork, then glanced up. “Any update on my phone?”

“Yeah,” Theo nodded. “I’m afraid it’s knackered. Ordered you a new iPhone. Should be here tomorrow.”

Beca groaned. “Great. Guess I’m off the grid till then.” This did nothing for her concern for Chloe. She glanced toward the ever-present photographer and videographer, who were still lurking in the background. “Do they have to film me while I eat?”

Theo smirked. “They’re capturing authentic moments, superstar.”

Beca rolled her eyes and took a bite. “Yeah, nothing says rock star like awkwardly chewing on camera.”

Theo chuckled. “Promise we won’t use anything unflattering.”

Satisfied, Beca focused on her food while Theo stepped out for a few minutes. When he returned, he waved her over. “You ready for the meet and greet?”

Beca wiped her hands on a napkin and stood. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Theo leaned in, keeping his voice low. “We’ve got a mix today—a group of high school girls who won the online contest, a mother and daughter who won the ticket lottery, and a couple of music students from Rutgers. A Cappella singers.”

Beca raised an eyebrow. “Aca-fans?”

Theo grinned. “Big time.”

“This should be fun,” Beca smirked, but suddenly had an idea. She turned to Theo. “Do you have Chloe’s contact info?”

“Of course.” Theo scoffed. “She’s your emergency contact. Plus, she’s sent me way too much information about your favorite foods, reminders to make sure you eat, hydrate, and, you know, actually sleep.”

“Are you serious?” Beca asked, awestruck.

“She basically manages you from a distance,” Theo smirked. 

Equal parts shocked and touched, Beca shook her head in awe, “Okay, do me a favor—call her. Tell her my phone died, I’m fine, and I’ll see her tonight.”

Theo nodded but was interrupted by an incoming call. He glanced at his screen. “It’s Khaled. I have to take this.”

As he stepped away, he gestured to his assistant. “Jimmy, bring in the first group, the high school girls for their meet-and-greet.”

-(((*)))-

Wrapping up his call with DJ Khaled, Theo answered a few last-minute questions about Khaled’s upcoming taping on The Voice. His boss wanted everything airtight, and Theo made sure to reassure him that all was set. But he had more than just Khaled’s concerns on his mind. As he spoke, he also checked in with the team handling tonight’s logistics, making sure everything would run smoothly. Khaled had enough on his plate, and the last thing he needed was unnecessary stress.

As he was on the calls, Theo turned his attention back to Beca, and watched from a distance. The first meet-and-greet group—a quartet of high school girls—had just been brought in. He watched as Beca transformed before his eyes.

Gone was the distracted, anxious artist who had been spiraling over her dead phone and whatever had occurred last night after he dropped her off at her bus. Now, she was completely in the moment, engaging with the fans in front of her. She shook hands, gave each girl a one-armed hug, and laughed easily as the photographer captured every moment. She offered to sign autographs, personalizing each one, and made a point to thank every single girl for coming.

Theo had seen this happen before. Beca might doubt herself behind the scenes, but when it came to her fans, she never faked it. This was where she was at her best.

Then, one of the girls shyly stepped forward, holding a red cup.

“Um, Beca? Would you… do The Cup Song?”

Theo smirked, already knowing the answer.

At the sight of the cup, Beca’s eyes widened slightly before a small grin tugged at her lips. “You came prepared,” she said, taking the cup.

Amused, Theo folded his arms, ready to watch the performance,. He knew this moment was gold, and so happy it would be captured on video. The second Beca had first shown him the Cups routine, he’d immediately ordered a full video shoot and secured the rights to the song. It had been one of the smartest moves of her career.

Beca turned the cup in her hands, before setting it on the table they were next to. She then began to tap out the familiar beat against the table. The girls gasped, excitement lighting up their faces.

I got my ticket for the long way 'round

Two bottle of whiskey for the way

And I sure would like some sweet company

And I'm leaving tomorrow, what do you say?

Beca effortlessly tapped out the rhythm, alternating between the table and the upside-down cup, her movements precise and fluid. As she sang, her voice steady and clear, the four high school girls watched in pure awe, their excitement palpable.

When I'm gone

When I'm gone

You're gonna miss me when I'm gone

You're gonna miss me by my hair

You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh

You're gonna miss me when I'm gone

She continued, her hands moving instinctively through the motions as the familiar melody filled the room.

I got my ticket for the long way 'round

The one with the prettiest of views

It's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to give you shivers

But it sure would be prettier with you

The girls clapped along, grinning, completely enthralled. Beca smirked slightly, never missing a beat.

And just like that, Theo knew—this was the kind of moment that made Beca Mitchell unforgettable.

-(((*)))-

Beca greeted the next pair, a mother and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Trish, with a warm smile. The mother explained they had won this meet-and-greet through a ticket lottery—she had bought the tickets for Trish’s fifteenth birthday, never expecting they’d get so lucky.

“Happy Birthday Trish,” Beca said with genuine enthusiasm.

The young girl, clearly nervous but thrilled, gripped a small USB drive in her hand. “I—I’ve been a huge fan of yours since I saw a YouTube video of your performance in France. I loved how you used that foot controller to mix the sounds you were making,” she admitted, shifting on her feet. “When I read one of your interviews and learned you got started making mashups, I wanted to try it too.”

Beca’s interest immediately piqued. “That’s awesome! How’s it going?”

Trish hesitated before holding up the USB. “I—I have a couple mixes I made. They’re not great or anything, but—”

“Hey,” Beca cut in gently, “if you’ve made something, that’s already great.” She gave Trish an encouraging nod. “I’d love to hear them.”

At Beca’s request, Theo had Jimmy set up a laptop. As they worked, Beca turned to Theo. “Hey, can you grab something for me? Small box, back on the bus, next to my laptop.”

Theo arched a brow but nodded and slipped out.

Meanwhile, Trish’s mixes began playing. Beca listened intently, nodding along, impressed by the young girl’s instincts.

A few minutes later, Theo returned with the box. Beca opened it and pulled out an old USB drive of her own. She held it out to Trish. “Trade?”

Trish’s eyes went wide. “You serious?”

Beca grinned. “Absolutely. Keep mixing, okay?”

-(((*)))-

The final meet-and-greet group consisted of four college students, all members of an A Cappella group called Pitch-Makers from a nearby college. 

The moment Beca heard the name, she smirked. “A Cappella, huh?” she said, shaking each of their hands. “I might know a thing or two about that.”

“We know!” the four young women said simultaneously. There was such adoration. Of course this opened the floodgates. The next fifteen minutes were filled with them swapping stories—Beca reminiscing about her days with the Bellas, the insane competitions, the aca-dramas, and, of course, the joy of performing with a group that felt like family.

Theo watched Beca closely as she interacted with the Pitch-Makers, noting a subtle shift in her demeanor. It wasn’t obvious to the four college students, who were caught up in the thrill of meeting their idol, but Theo had spent enough time around Beca to see it.

She was engaged, smiling, even laughing—but there was something just beneath the surface. A flicker of sadness she worked hard to hide.

And Theo had a hunch about why.

Every time she mentioned Chloe, even in passing, that flicker deepened. Whatever had happened between them, it was weighing on Beca more than she let on.

As the conversation continued, Beca started humming softly to herself, still absentmindedly stuck on the tune from earlier.

One of the students, a girl with a sharp ear, tilted her head. “That’s A Rainbow Connection, right?”

Beca blinked. “Uh, yeah. It’s been stuck in my head all day.”

“We recently sang a rainbow song for a show we put on for a children’s hospital,” said another of the group.

“Oh? Which one?”

“Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” answered the four young women simultaneously.

“We did the version by Israel Kamakawiwoʻole.”

Another girl’s eyes lit up. “Can we sing it with you?”

Beca grinned. “Yeah. Definitely. You four want to start?”

Without hesitation, the four singers began the intro.

Oooo, oooooo,ooooo,ooooooo

oooo,oooo

Ooooo,oooo,oooo

Oooooo,ooooo,ooooo,ooo,

oooo,oooo,ooo

Right on cue, Beca began singing the first lyrics.

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

And the dreams that you dream of

Once in a lullaby

Two of the college students joined in with the next verse. The two picked up their part flawlessly.

Oh, somewhere over the rainbow

Blue birds fly

And the dreams that you dream of

Dreams really do come true

Beca felt a small thrill as their voices blended seamlessly. When the next cue came, the second pair slipped in effortlessly.

Well I see trees of green

And red roses too

I watch them bloom for me and you

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

Theo, watching from the side, was visibly impressed. Not just with the Pitch-Makers, who were seriously talented, but with Beca herself. Even on a rough day, she could just fall into music like it was second nature.

Two of the singers harmonized with Beca as she continued, while their friends blended in with the other song, to make an incredible sound, which was thankfully being recorded. 

This is pure Gold!

Beca was in her element now, completely lost in the moment. Music had always been home for her—and right now, it was a small sanctuary from the guilt she was carrying.

-(((*)))-

Beca smiled as she shook hands with each member of Pitch-Makers. “You guys are seriously talented,” she said sincerely. “Good luck with everything—keep making music.”

They thanked her enthusiastically before heading out, leaving Beca to exhale heavily. She turned to Theo. “Are we done? Because I am done.”

Theo winced. “Almost. You have to meet with Devon Fox first.”

Beca groaned. “Theo—”

Before she could argue, Devon Fox strode in, exuding authority in an impeccably tailored charcoal gray power suit and pencil skirt. Beca blinked.

The woman reminded her of Aubrey—sharp, polished, and absolutely no-nonsense.

“Beca,” Devon greeted, all business. “Let’s talk PR.”

Beca sighed, already bracing herself.

-(((*)))-

By the time the meeting with Devon Fox wrapped up, Beca was barely holding it together. The strategy for her EP release was undeniably important—her career depended on it—but right now, it felt like the least important thing in the world. Not when she had left things hanging with Chloe.

The marketing and social media strategy had been grueling, a tedious deep dive into branding, content calendars, and “candid” moments that were anything but. Nothing felt less authentic than scripting Twitter interactions and curating spontaneous-looking Instagram posts.

Still, Beca knew she had to play the game. Too many people were counting on her, and she wasn’t about to throw away everything she had worked for. So she participated, offering her honest opinions even when Devon’s polished demeanor grew sharper, taking on an almost Aubrey-like edge.

Beca smirked to herself—Aubrey would love Devon.

Still, Devon would just have to deal with Beca’s unfiltered approach. If she was going to make it in this industry, it would be on her terms.

But even as she spoke, her mind was elsewhere.

The meet-and-greet had been great. She was genuinely happy to have met those fans, to have connected with people who truly loved music. But in the end, that had only been a distraction.

The moment Devon gathered her notes and left, Beca exhaled sharply.

She needed to see Chloe. Now.

With the PR meeting finally over, Beca turned to Theo, running a hand through her hair. “Any word on that new phone?”

Theo pulled up his email. “It’ll be here sometime tomorrow.”

Beca groaned. “Damn. I was hoping to have it before I headed to Brooklyn. Well, nothing for it now.” She exhaled, then narrowed her eyes at Theo. “By the way, what did Chloe say when you called her?”

Theo visibly froze.

Beca’s stomach dropped. “Dude. Tell me you made that call.”

Theo grimaced. “I… may have gotten sidetracked—”

“Damn it, Theo!” Beca snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “I really needed you to make that call!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it now—”

“Don’t bother.” Beca’s jaw clenched. “I need you to get me a car. Immediately. I’m going to Brooklyn.”

Theo hesitated. “Becs, come on. You’ve had a long day, and we still have—”

“I’ll quit.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “What?”

Beca crossed her arms. “I’ll quit. Right here, right now, if you don’t get me a car.” Her voice was unwavering, her stare locked onto him.

Theo studied her, clearly torn. Finally, with a sigh, he pulled out his phone. “Fine. I’ll get you a car.”

“Thank you,” Beca muttered, already grabbing her jacket.

Whatever happened next, she wasn’t wasting another second. 

She needed to see Chloe. 

Now.

-(((*)))-

Beca’s leg bounced anxiously as she sat in the back of the limousine, gripping the bouquet of daisies tightly in her hands. The ride to Brooklyn felt endless, every streetlight stretching time further, every turn making her stomach twist.

She ran through a dozen different ways to start the conversation. 

I’m sorry. 

I messed up. 

I apologize with all my heart!

I’m so-so sorry.

I should have said something sooner. 

Nothing felt right.

During the endless drive from Newark to Brooklyn, Beca crafted the perfect speech in her head. She would tell Chloe how sorry she was, how she had messed up, and most importantly, how deeply in love with her she was.

She would promise to spend the rest of her life making it up to her, proving that Chloe was the most important thing in her world.

She practiced it three times until she was sure she had it memorized—then practiced it again, just to be certain.

By the time the car reached Chloe’s building, she was ready.

When the car finally stopped in front of Chloe’s building, Beca barely waited for it to come to a full stop before throwing the door open and sprinting inside.

Beca burst into her old building, using her key to get past the security door. She took the stairs two at a time, gripping the daisies, her heart pounding. Reaching Chloe’s door, she knocked, resisting the urge to use her key. She needed forgiveness first.

Impatient, she knocked again.

No answer.

Desperate, she started pounding. “Chloe!”

Finally, the door opened, and there stood Chloe. The redhead looked disheveled, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Beca’s heart ached at the sight of her.“

Beca?” Chloe whispered, her voice trembling.

The moment Chloe opened the door, every word Beca had rehearsed vanished.

There she was—her fiery red hair slightly tousled, blue eyes wide with surprise. She was even more beautiful than Beca remembered, and suddenly, Beca became acutely aware of herself. Her hair was a mess, she was out of breath, and she probably looked half-crazed with worry.

She clutched the daisies tighter.

For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other. Then, before she could overthink it, Beca blurted out, “I love you too.”

She didn’t wait for a reaction. She surged forward, sweeping Chloe into her arms, kissing her deeply. The flowers fell to the floor, forgotten, as Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe, holding her close.

Chloe froze in shock, but it lasted only a second before she melted into Beca, kissing her back just as fiercely.

Beca pulled away just enough to look into Chloe’s crystal blue eyes, her heart pounding. “I had this whole speech planned,” she admitted with a breathless laugh. “I was going to say all these perfect things, but the second I saw you, I forgot everything.”

Chloe let out a shaky laugh, eyes glistening.

“Chloe, I’m so sorry,” Beca continued, her voice soft but urgent. “I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I just… I needed to figure out what to say. And then I realized I didn’t need to figure it out—I just needed to come here. To you.”

Tears welled in Chloe’s eyes. “Beca, I—”

Beca didn’t let her finish. She cupped Chloe’s cheek, her thumb gently brushing away a tear.

“I love you, Chloe. I’m in love with you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

Chloe’s breath hitched, emotion spilling over as tears streamed down her cheeks. With a soft sob, she threw her arms around Beca, holding her as tightly as she could.

Beca held on just as fiercely, knowing she never wanted to let go.

---

**The End.**