Chapter Text
Chloe Beale hated red carpets. It wasn't the cameras. It wasn't the interviews. It wasn't even the impossibly uncomfortable heels she was currently balancing on.
It was the pretending. The endless smiling. The polished answers. The way every conversation felt rehearsed before it even happened.
Still, she smiled as another photographer called her name.
"Chloe! Over here!"
A flash exploded. Then another. And another.
She shifted slightly, turning toward the cameras with practiced ease.
Years ago, she never would have imagined this.
Back then, she'd been a music education major who spent most of her time trying to keep the Bellas from falling apart. Fame had belonged to other people. Talented people. Lucky people. Not her. And yet somehow she was here.
The Grammy Awards. Nominated for Best New Artist.
Her first album had exploded almost overnight. One song in particular had changed everything. A stripped-down version of "Just the Way You Are."
Recorded years ago. Back when she was still in college. Back when life had been simpler. Back when Beca Mitchell had still been part of it.
The thought arrived uninvited. As it always did.
Chloe pushed it away.
Five years. Five years should have been enough. Enough time to get over someone. Enough time to stop wondering. Enough time to stop checking producer credits on songs she liked just in case. Enough time to stop missing her.
Apparently not.
"Chloe!" Another reporter stepped forward.
"Hi." She smiled automatically.
"You've had an incredible year. How does it feel to be here tonight?" The question was easy. Safe.
"I still feel like somebody made a mistake," Chloe admitted with a laugh.
The reporter laughed too.
"Your fans would disagree."
"Well, they're very kind."
A few more questions followed. The album. The tour. The nomination. The future.
She answered them all on autopilot.
Then something changed. Not visibly. Not immediately. Just a subtle shift in the atmosphere.
A ripple moving through the crowd. Several photographers suddenly turned away from Chloe. Their cameras pointed toward the entrance. People started whispering.
"Oh wow." The reporter beside her glanced over Chloe's shoulder.
Chloe frowned.
"What?" she asked.
The reporter's eyes widened.
"No way."
A strange feeling settled in Chloe's stomach. Slow. Heavy. Familiar.
She turned and forgot how to breathe.
Beca Mitchell. Standing at the far end of the carpet.
For a second Chloe genuinely thought she might be hallucinating, because she had imagined this moment before. Too many times. At airports. Coffee shops. Concerts. Everywhere. Always wondering what she would say if she saw her again. Always assuming she'd be prepared. She wasn't. Not even close.
Beca looked different. Older. Sharper. The awkward edges she'd once hidden behind sarcasm had disappeared. Her dark hair brushed her shoulders. The tailored black suit fit perfectly. Confidence rolled off her effortlessly like she belonged among celebrities. Like she hadn't once spent three hours arguing with a dorm-room speaker because it wasn't reproducing bass correctly. Like she hadn't fallen asleep on Chloe's shoulder after pulling all-nighters. Like she hadn't left.
The cameras loved her. Of course they did.
Beca had become one of the biggest producers in the industry. Every artist wanted to work with her. Every label wanted her name attached to their projects. She was famous without ever stepping onto a stage, which somehow suited her perfectly.
Chloe should have looked away. Instead she stared, and then Beca looked up.
Their eyes met. Everything stopped. The crowd vanished. The noise disappeared. Five years collapsed into a single heartbeat. Beca froze. Actually froze.
The confident producer disappeared. For one brief second Chloe saw the girl she'd known in college. The one who got nervous when things mattered. The one who hid behind jokes. The one who kissed Chloe in secret because neither of them wanted to talk about what it meant.
Shock flashed across Beca's face. Then guilt. Then something else. Something Chloe couldn't identify.
The moment ended. Beca's expression smoothed into something professional. Controlled. The mask. God, Chloe hated that mask. She had spent years learning how to read every emotion underneath it. Now she wasn't sure she could read anything at all.
Beca started walking toward her. The photographers noticed immediately. The excitement became instant. Cameras shifted. Reporters leaned closer.
Two Grammy nominees approaching each other made for good television.
Neither the reporters nor the photographers had any idea how much history stood between them.
By the time Beca reached her, Chloe's pulse was hammering.
"Hey, Chloe."
Five years. Two words. That was all.
Chloe folded her arms.
"Hey, Beca."
A flicker crossed Beca's face. Relief. Maybe because Chloe hadn't immediately walked away.
"You look good."
"Seriously?" Chloe scoffed.
"What?" Beca blinked.
"That's your opening line?"
The tension between them was immediate. Palpable. Dangerous.
Beca rubbed the back of her neck. A gesture Chloe remembered far too well.
"I didn't exactly have a plan."
For a second neither spoke. The silence stretched. Photographers ate it up. The flashes became relentless.
Chloe could practically hear tomorrow's headlines. Industry Powerhouse Meets With Grammy Darling.
If only they knew.
"So," Beca said carefully. "Congratulations."
"For?" Chloe raised an eyebrow.
"The nomination."
"Thanks."
Another silence. Beca nodded once.
"Album's good."
"Thanks."
"Really good."
"Thanks."
"Okay. I deserve that." Beca sighed.
"You think?"
The words came out colder than Chloe intended. Beca looked down, and for the first time, Chloe saw genuine regret. Good. She deserved to feel it.
A reporter suddenly appeared beside them.
"Can we get a photo together?"
Both women turned toward him.
"No" Chloe said instantly.
"Sure" Beca said at exactly the same time.
The reporter looked confused. Chloe glared at Beca. Beca looked mildly terrified, which almost made Chloe laugh. Almost.
"So... is that a yes?" The reporter hesitated.
Neither answered. The cameras continued flashing.
"One picture." Chloe eventually sighed.
The photographers practically cheered. Beca stepped beside her. Close enough that Chloe could smell her perfume. Close enough to remember things she'd spent years trying to forget. Movie nights. Road trips. Hotel rooms after competitions. Late-night conversations that lasted until sunrise. The first time Beca kissed her. The last time Beca kissed her. The text message that came afterward. Got the contract with Universal Music Group. Leaving tomorrow. I could not have done it without you. No explanation. No goodbye. No chance to stop her.
"Three." The photographer counted down.
Chloe forced a smile.
"Two."
Beca shifted slightly beside her.
"One."
The flash exploded, and Chloe realized something terrifying. For the first time in five years, Beca Mitchell was no longer a memory. She was real. Standing right beside her. Breathing the same air, and suddenly all the feelings Chloe had spent years burying didn't feel buried at all.
The ceremony should have been the highlight of Chloe's year. Instead, she spent most of it trying not to look three tables away. It wasn't entirely her fault. Beca kept appearing in her line of sight. Every time Chloe glanced toward the stage, there she was, talking to an artist, laughing at something a presenter said, accepting congratulations from industry executives. Existing, which, annoyingly, was distracting.
The woman had somehow become even more attractive over the last five years. That felt deeply unfair.
"You're staring." Aubrey sat beside her, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
Chloe nearly choked on her champagne.
"I am not."
"You are."
"I'm really not."
"You absolutely are."
Chloe glared. Aubrey smiled.
"Good to know some things never change."
Across the room, Beca laughed at something someone said. The sound carried farther than it should have. Chloe immediately hated herself for noticing. Aubrey noticed that too.
"Oh, you're screwed."
"Stop talking."
"I thought you were over her."
"I am."
"Then why do you look like somebody just resurrected your college years?"
Chloe opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. No answer came. Because she wasn't sure herself. She'd spent years convincing herself she'd moved on. Built a life. Built a career. Built a future that didn't include Beca Mitchell. Then one unexpected encounter had shattered all of it.
The lights dimmed. The next award category began. Thankfully, it gave Chloe something else to focus on. For almost ten minutes. Then a presenter stepped onto the stage and announced Producer of the Year. Chloe froze. She hadn't realized Beca was nominated.
The giant screen lit up with images of the nominees. Beca's face appeared last. The camera immediately found her table. She looked calm. Far calmer than Chloe felt.
"And the Grammy goes to..."
A pause. The audience held its breath.
"Beca Mitchell."
The room erupted. Applause thundered through the venue.
Chloe found herself standing before she realized it. Clapping. Smiling.
Because, despite everything, despite the anger, despite the hurt, despite the years, Beca deserved it. Nobody had worked harder. Nobody had cared more.
The camera followed Beca as she made her way to the stage. She looked stunned. Genuinely stunned.
For a moment Chloe saw the same girl who used to spend entire nights obsessing over tiny details in a mix. The same girl who once insisted on re-recording a harmony twenty-seven times because it wasn't perfect. The same girl who had fallen asleep face-first on a keyboard at four in the morning. The memory hit unexpectedly.
"You're impossible." Chloe stated.
"I know." Beca didn't look up from her laptop.
"It's two in the morning."
"I know."
"You have class tomorrow."
"I know."
"Then go to sleep."
"No."
Chloe sighed dramatically.
"You are literally the most stubborn person I've ever met."
"Pretty sure that's you."
"Excuse me?"
Beca finally looked up. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Chloe's heart had done that annoying thing again. The thing it always did around Beca. The thing she'd spent months pretending wasn't happening.
Beca patted the empty space beside her.
"Come here."
Chloe sat close enough that their shoulders touched. The tiny contact felt electric. Neither mentioned it. Neither moved away.
The music continued playing softly through the speakers.
Beca leaned back. Her head rested against Chloe's shoulder. Natural. Easy. Like it belonged there. Maybe it did.
The memory vanished as applause filled the room. Beca stood at the microphone. Grammy in hand. The audience settled.
"Uh..." Beca looked around.
Momentarily overwhelmed. Several people laughed affectionately.
"I definitely didn't prepare for this."
More laughter.
Chloe smiled despite herself. Some things really never changed.
Beca thanked her team. Her artists. The people she'd worked with. The labels who had trusted her. Then, unexpectedly, her gaze drifted toward Chloe's table. Just for a second. Long enough for Chloe to notice. Long enough for her chest to tighten.
"There are a few people who believed in me before I even believed in myself." Beca's voice softened.
"And I probably haven't thanked them enough."
Something in Chloe's stomach twisted. Then the moment passed. The speech ended. The audience applauded, and Beca left the stage.
The ceremony continued. Categories came and went. Acceptance speeches blurred together. Beca should have been celebrating. She had a Grammy sitting on the table in front of her. A Grammy. The thing she'd dreamed about since she was sixteen years old. The thing she'd spent years working toward, yet somehow she couldn't focus on it because Chloe was still here. Three tables away, looking completely unaware of the effect she was having on Beca.
The host stepped onto the stage.
"And now, performing her hit single from the album that earned her a Best New Artist nomination..."
The audience erupted before the name was even announced. Beca's stomach tightened.
"...Chloe Beale!"
The lights went out. The room exploded into cheers.
A low bassline rolled through the venue. The giant screens flickered to life.
Then a spotlight illuminated the center of the stage.
Beca stopped breathing. The performance space had been transformed. A massive circle of pale sand covered the floor. Soft golden lighting made it look almost dreamlike. Like a desert at sunset. Like something impossible.
And standing in the middle of it was Chloe.
The crowd lost its minds. Beca understood why. She'd seen Chloe perform hundreds of times. Small stages. College auditoriums. Competitions. Bars. Random Bella rehearsals. But nothing had prepared her for this.
Chloe looked like she belonged here. Like she had been born for it.
The music started. Slow. Controlled. Every movement deliberate. The choreography was unlike anything Chloe would have attempted in college.
Hey, cute jeans (jeans)
Take mine off me (me)
Oh, golly gee (gee)
I can't take no more, I'm goin' weak in my knees
Where'd you put those keys?
We can share one seat (seat)
We can share one seat
Back then she'd been confident as a singer. Now she was a performer. The difference was staggering. As the beat intensified, Chloe moved across the sand with effortless precision.
Each step sent pale grains scattering beneath her feet. The lighting shifted around her. Shadows danced across the stage. The audience watched in complete silence. Mesmerized, Beca included. Especially Beca. She couldn't look away. Not for a second.
In the alley, in the back
In the center of this room
With the windows rolled down
Boy, don't make me choose
In the alley, in the back
In the center of this room
With the windows rolled down
Boy, don't make me choose
The choreography became more aggressive. More powerful. Chloe threw herself into it completely. Every movement sharp. Precise. Confident. Beca felt something dangerously close to pride because she remembered. She remembered the girl who used to hide behind group performances. The girl who hated being the center of attention. The girl who got embarrassed whenever anyone complimented her. That girl was gone. This Chloe commanded an arena.
The realization hit harder than expected. Five years. She'd missed five years. Five years of growth. Five years of milestones. Five years of becoming this person. And suddenly Beca found herself wondering how many moments she'd lost. How many performances. How many achievements. How many nights Chloe had wanted someone to celebrate with. Someone who should have been there. The thought lodged itself firmly in her chest.
The performance reached its final chorus. The audience erupted. Chloe spun. Dropped effortlessly into the final sequence. The lighting exploded around her.
I think you know what this is
I think you wanna, uh
No, you ain't got no Mrs.
I'll bet you got a sports car
We can uh-uh in it
While you drive it real far
Yeah, you know what this is
Yeah, you know what this is
For one breathtaking moment she stood alone in the center of the stage. Covered in gold light. Breathing hard. Absolutely radiant. Then the music ended. Silence.
One heartbeat. Two. The venue exploded. Everyone jumped to their feet. The standing ovation was immediate. Thunderous. Beca rose automatically. Applauding harder than anyone at her table. A few people noticed.
"Damn, Mitchell." Jesse sitting nearby laughed.
"What?" Beca blinked.
"I think you're her biggest fan." Jesse smirked.
Heat climbed immediately into Beca's face.
"No."
The response came too quickly, which made everyone laugh. Jesse pointed toward the stage.
"You haven't blinked in three minutes."
Beca looked away. Immediately. Which somehow made things worse. The entire table started grinning. Beca hated all of them.
Across the venue, Chloe was thanking the audience. Smiling. Breathless from the performance. Happy. And then her gaze drifted through the crowd. For one impossible second, she looked directly at Beca. Beca's heart stopped completely.
The rest of the audience disappeared. The noise vanished. There was only Chloe standing beneath the lights. Looking right at her. Then Chloe smiled. Small, barely noticeable. Gone almost immediately, but it was there. Beca knew it was, and somehow that tiny smile meant more than the Grammy sitting beside her, which was a problem. A very serious problem. Because after five years apart, Beca was starting to realize something she should have figured out long ago. She had never actually gotten over Chloe Beale.
An hour later, Chloe escaped. Not because she wanted to. Because she needed air. Needed distance. Needed a few minutes where Beca Mitchell wasn't occupying every available thought in her brain.
The backstage hallway was mercifully empty. Quiet. Cool.
For the first time all evening, Chloe relaxed. Then she heard footsteps. Of course. She didn't even need to turn around.
"Beca."
The footsteps stopped.
"Still psychic, I see."
Chloe laughed without humor.
"Not exactly difficult."
Silence settled between them. The kind that used to be comfortable. Now it felt sharp. Dangerous.
Beca moved closer. Not too close. Just enough.
"You disappeared." The words escaped before Chloe could stop them.
Beca flinched. Good.
"You don't get to stand there and act like everything's normal." She continued.
"I know." Beca replied now looking down.
"No, I don't think you do."
Beca looked away. That somehow made Chloe angrier.
Five years. Five years of questions. Five years of wondering. Five years of trying to understand.
"You left. Without saying goodbye."
"I know." Beca swallowed.
"Do you?" Chloe's voice cracked. Just slightly, but it was enough. Enough to expose the hurt she'd spent years hiding. Enough to make Beca look genuinely miserable.
The sight should have been satisfying. Instead, it hurt. Because part of Chloe still hated seeing her upset, which was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
"I got your texts, all of them." Beca closed her eyes.
"And you never replied to any of them. You couldn't call?"
Beca didn't answer.
"You couldn't meet me?"
Still nothing. The silence stretched.
"I couldn't." Finally Beca spoke.
"That's your excuse? Because it's a terrible one." Chloe scoffed. A bitter sound.
"I know."
"Then explain it."
Beca stared at the floor. For the first time all evening she looked nervous. Not Grammy-speech nervous. Terrified nervous. The kind Chloe had only seen a handful of times, and suddenly she remembered another night, another conversation, another version of Beca. One that had looked exactly like this.
"You're scared." Chloe stated the obvious.
"I'm not scared." Beca claimed.
"You're terrified."
"I hate that you can tell." Beca groaned.
"You're easy to read." Chloe smiled.
"Nobody else thinks that."
"That's because nobody else pays attention."
The words had slipped out accidentally. Neither spoke for a moment. The air shifted. Something changing between them. Something neither was ready to name.
Beca looked at her. Really looked at her, and Chloe forgot how to breathe.
The memory vanished. The hallway returned. Beca was still standing there. Still looking terrified.
"I didn't leave because I wanted to."
Chloe stared. A thousand responses fought for attention. Only one won. She scoffed. Sharp. Disbelieving.
"Then why did you?"
Beca looked up. Their eyes met. And for the first time all night, Chloe thought she might actually get an answer.
Then someone called Beca's name from down the hall.
The moment shattered.
Beca's jaw tightened. The interruption couldn't have come at a worse time. Chloe folded her arms, waiting. Beca looked toward the voice. Then back at Chloe. Conflict flashed across her face.
"I..." She stopped.
Whatever she had been about to say disappeared. The silence became unbearable. Finally, Beca took a step backward.
"Can we talk after the show?"
"No." Chloe's expression hardened instantly.
"Chloe—"
"No."
The hurt returned in full force. Because somehow this felt exactly the same. Another almost-conversation. Another almost-answer. Another moment where Beca chose something else.
"Five years, Beca."
The words landed like a punch.
"Five years."
Beca looked devastated. Good. Maybe now she understood. Maybe now she knew what it felt like.
The voice called her name again. More urgently this time. Beca closed her eyes briefly.
When she opened them, Chloe could see the regret already forming. Like she knew she was making a mistake. Again. And that somehow hurt more than anything.
"I'll find you later."
"No, you won't." Chloe shook her head.
Then she turned and walked away, leaving Beca standing alone in the hallway. For once.