Work Text:
New York City had a funny way of making people feel simultaneously invisible and seen.
Most days, Beca Mitchell managed to stay firmly in the first category.
She went to work.
She came home.
She wrote music in the tiny apartment she shared with Chloe Beale and Fat Amy.
She tried not to think too much about where her life was going after the Bellas had won Worlds.
Mostly, she succeeded.
Until Chloe wandered into the living room on a rainy Thursday evening carrying her laptop with the unmistakable expression that meant she had a plan.
Beca looked up from her keyboard.
“No.” she said in a tone that said she already knew where this was going.
Chloe blinked, the picture of innocence.
“I haven’t even said anything.”
“I know your face.”
“My face?”
“The one that says, ‘I’ve had an idea and you’re going to pretend you hate it before secretly admitting I’m right.’”
Fat Amy looked up from the armchair where she was attempting to eat cereal with a serving spoon.
“She’s got you there, Red.”
Chloe ignored them both.
“I found something.” She said in a soothing tone as if she was talking to a dog she was trying to coax into a bath.
“No.” Beca figured keeping it short and simple would be the safest tactic.
“It’s local.” Chloe wheedled.
“No. If it’s not within ten steps of the snack cupboard, it’s not local enough.” The brunette grumped.
“It’s actually kind of perfect. Like it’s made for you” Chloe’s voice was getting higher pitched and her eyes were getting wider.
“No.” Beca stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks and looking at the water stain that was shaped like Sponge Bob SquarePants.
Chloe sighed dramatically before turning her laptop around.
A colorful flyer filled the screen.
Women Seeking Women Speed Dating Night
Beca stared.
Then looked back at Chloe.
Then back at the laptop.
“…Hell No.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I literally came out three weeks ago.”
“I know. It was adorable.”
“I’ve never been on a date with a woman.” Beca was starting to visibly sweat.
“I know.”
“I barely know how to talk to women.”
“Beca.”
“What?”
“You’ve been talking to women your entire life.”
“You know what I mean. Not THAT way.” Her eyes had moved to ceiling again, trying to find the Squidward shaped water patch her and Chloe had found last weekend when they were cuddling on the pull out sofa after a marathon “L Word” session Chloe had insisted on as part of Beca’s lesbian initiation. Beca had hid her face in her pillow during each sex scene. There was a lot of pillow time.
Chloe smiled.
“I do.”
Beca rubbed both hands over her face.
“I’m going to embarrass myself.”
“No, you’re going to spend five minutes talking to interesting people.”
“I’m going to forget my own name.”
“You’ve never forgotten your own name.”
“I forgot yours once.”
“You had food poisoning.”
“I stand by my statement.”
Fat Amy raised another spoonful of cereal.
“Honestly, if anyone’s forgetting names, it’ll be the women meeting Beca.”
Both women looked at her.
Amy shrugged.
“What? She’s so tiny she’ll blend into the furniture. ”
Beca groaned.
“Fuck off Amy, I’m not that small.”
Amy pulled her highly effective “WTF” face.
Chloe bit back a smile
She then sat beside Beca on the couch/bed/scene of many embarrassing Beca dreams.
“I’ll go too.”
Beca looked over.
“What?”
“I’ll do the speed dating too.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“You’d actually go?”
Chloe nodded.
“I like women too, Becs.”
Beca smiled.
“I know.”
“And my dating life has been…” Chloe pretended to calculate. “…spectacularly uneventful.”
“You’ve had a date last week.”
“It was technically coffee. Barely counts.”
She rolled her eyes and continued.
“He talked about cryptocurrency for forty minutes.”
“I know. You told me in way too much detail after you came home.”
“He asked if I wanted to invest, Beca” Chloe looked upset.
“I’m so sorry.” Beca instinctively patted Chloe’s hand.
“So we’ll go together.”
It had been decided.
Beca already knew.
But she pretended to consider it.
“You promise if it’s awful we’ll leave?”
“I promise.”
“And pizza?”
“Obviously.”
“…Fine.”
Chloe grinned so brightly it should have been illegal.
Friday evening arrived much too quickly.
Beca had originally planned to wear jeans. Concert shirt. Converse. Her regular everyday look. Let them see what they’re really getting into, she figured.
Then she remembered this was, technically, her first date with women.
Well…
Several very short dates.
That somehow felt even more terrifying.
She stood in front of the mirror for nearly twenty minutes.
When she stepped out from behind the shower curtain that concealed their makeshift bathroom/change room, Chloe happened to be walking down the hallway carrying earrings.
She stopped so abruptly one earring slipped from her hand.
“Oh.”
Beca immediately became self-conscious.
“What?”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“I…”
Chloe blinked twice.
“…wasn’t expecting that.”
Beca looked down at herself.
She wore a fitted black skirt that fell mid thigh and a sheer black blouse layered neatly over a black lace camisole. It wasn’t revealing so much as elegant, especially paired with a fitted leather jacket waiting by the door. She had on black six inch heels that stretched out her legs and made her ass pop.
She’d curled her dark hair into soft vintage waves after watching three online tutorials.
Smoky eye makeup framed her dark blue eyes.
Bright red lip stick.
Simple silver earrings completed the look.
She looked…
Different.
Confident.
Like someone who belonged in New York.
“You hate it.” Beca looked like a fawn ready to bolt and run back into the gay forest.
“What?” Chloe’s voice sounded weird.
“You’ve been staring.” Beca pointed an accusatory finger at her best friend.
“Beca.” Chloe had cleared her throat and was making soothing sounds again.
“What?” More defensive Beca attitude.
“I absolutely do not hate it.”
“You don’t?”
“I just…”
Chloe laughed softly.
“Where did this come from?”
“My closet?”
“No.”
“I’ve owned most of this for months.”
“You’ve been hiding it.”
Beca shrugged.
“I never had anywhere to wear it.”
Chloe walked a slow circle around her.
Not judging.
Just appreciating.
“You look amazing.”
Beca ducked her head.
“You think?”
“I know.”
She smiled warmly.
“You look like yourself.”
That surprised Beca.
“Really?”
“Just… the version that’s finally letting herself take up some space.”
Beca smiled.
“Thanks.”
She looked Chloe over in return.
Her roommate wore a deep red wrap dress that showed off her shoulders and plunged down in the front two inches past church level, three inches past dinner with the partner’s parents. Her red hair was loose around her shoulders, and she’d chosen simple gold earrings and comfortable heels.
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” Beca sounded like she’d swallowed a blob of wasabi.
Chloe laughed.
“I was hoping you’d notice.”
As she picked up her clutch and sashayed towards the door.
The event occupied the second floor of a converted bookstore in Manhattan.
Soft jazz drifted through the room.
Small café tables filled the space.
Nearly forty women chatted comfortably while waiting for things to begin.
Beca stopped walking.
“There are… a lot of lesbians.”
Chloe snorted.
“I suppose there are. But don’t forget the bis too”
“I pictured like… twelve.”
“Twelve? In all of New York? Twelve?” Chloe flabbergasted.
“I don’t know. I’m new to the whole lesbian thing. I didn’t do proper research. ” Chloe recognized the panicked edge to her friend’s voice.
“Did you think there was a quota?”
“I didn’t think this through. I should have googled more.” Beca was freaking just a bit.
Chloe gripped her forearm and gave her a comforting squeeze.
“You can’t just google the gay, Beca. You have to live it too.”
The event organizer approached with two name tags.
She introduced herself as Dana.
“So you’re Chloe, I’m guessing from your sign up form. Ginger goddess is quite the descriptor, but it suits.”
She handed over one tag.
“And Beca… Baby Gay?”
Beca shot Chloe a glare. Having her fill out their entry forms was turning out to be not one of her wisest decisions.
Dana’s eyes lifted as she was getting ready to affix the name tag to Beca.
Paused. Her hand shook.
“Oh. My.” Dana moistened her lips.
Beca smiled awkwardly.
“…Hi?”
Dana laughed.
“Sorry.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t expecting…”
She gestured vaguely.
“…you.”
Beca frowned.
“I promise I exist.”
“I can see that. Like really see that.”
Dana shook herself slightly and stuck the name tag above Beca’s left breast. Her hand seemed to linger just a tad
“Welcome. First event?” Now the organizer’s voice had got all breathy.
“Is it obvious?” Beca looked at the woman oddly. Was she having an asthma attack?
“You have the expression of someone calculating escape routes.” Dana said with a wink.
“There are three.” Beca didn’t even have to think about it.
Chloe burst into laughter.
Dana smiled.
“You’ll be fine.”
She held Beca’s eyes for a tad longer than was polite.
“I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy tonight.”
As Dana walked away, shooting a look back over her shoulder at the befuddled brunette, Chloe bumped Beca gently with her shoulder.
“See?”
“What?”
“She noticed.”
“I don’t know if that’s good. She seemed weird.”
“I do.”
Before everyone separated for the first round, Chloe reached for Beca’s hand.
Just for a second.
“You’ve got this.”
Beca looked down at their joined hands.
Then back at Chloe.
“I’m going to panic.”
“No.”
“I’m definitely going to panic.”
“You’ll make one sarcastic joke.”
“…Probably.”
“They’ll laugh.”
“…Maybe.”
“You’ll relax.”
Beca smiled despite herself.
“You make it sound easy.”
“I know you. I have faith in you. You got this.”
The opening bell rang.
Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand once before letting go.
She took a deep breath.
“I got this.”
Chloe watched her walk toward Table Twelve.
Somehow…
She believed her
The first bell chimed with a pleasant little ding that sounded far too cheerful for Beca’s rapidly increasing heart rate.
She took one last look across the room.
Chloe caught her eye and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
I’ve got this, Beca mouthed.
Chloe nodded.
You’ve absolutely got this.
Beca wasn’t convinced, but she squared her shoulders and sat down at Table Twelve.
The woman opposite her smiled.
“I’m Cindy.”
“Beca.”
“I’m really glad you came. Even though you’re obviously mentally planning your escape route.”
“…You can already tell?”
She laughed and lowered her voice like she was sharing a secret.
“There are three by the way.”
Beca let out a snort of laughter.
“That’s what I said.”
And that’s how the ice was broken.
Cindy, an Asian woman with pink tips to the ends of her Louise Brooks bob and a silver tube top that caught the light just right smiled warmly.
“You’ve got the ‘I don’t know what I’m doing’ expression.”
“I’ve been practicing it for years.” Beca said without thinking.
That earned another laugh.
Somehow…
That helped.
Five minutes later, the bell rang again.
The conversation had wandered from favorite coffee shops to why pigeons were somehow fearless in New York.
It hadn’t felt like an interview.
It had felt…
Normal.
“Oh!” Cindy said as they stood. “Good luck tonight.” She touched Beca’s shoulder lightly. Her voice was warm with a hint of something underneath.
Attraction? Beca wasn’t sure. Fuck her inability to pick up social queues. At least she knew, thanks to the marketing for the event, that all the women here were into women. Her faulty gaydar wasn’t going to trip her up tonight at least.
“You too.” Beca said confidently.
She smiled as she moved to the next table.
That wasn’t so bad.
The second woman introduced herself as Carmen.
She taught second grade in Queens. She had shoulder length hair in wild curls and a gold ring piercing in the bottom right corner of her lips. Her cat’s eye makeup was fire.
“So,” Carmen said, “what do you do?”
“I write music.” Beca remembered to be confident with being too loud.
“Professionally?” The woman sounded intrigued.
“I’m… trying to. I’m working at a record label now as a junior producer.”
“What kind?” Carmen lent forwards, closer to Beca. Okay she definitely seems interested. Or else her posture sucks.
“The kind that usually starts at two in the morning because apparently my brain hates sleep.” That shot out of Beca’s mouth before she could think.
Carmen grinned.
“My students would approve.”
“They’re tiny insomniacs?”
“They’re tiny forces of chaos.”
“I respect that.”
The bell interrupted them just as Carmen began telling a story about one of her students insisting dinosaurs were still alive because she’d seen a pigeon.
Both women looked a little crestfallen their time together was over.
Across the room…
Chloe’s conversation wasn’t going nearly as well.
“So,” the woman opposite her asked pleasantly, “what brings you here?”
“My roommate.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh.”
Chloe blinked.
“I mean… not only my roommate.”
The woman smiled politely.
“I hope she’s okay.”
“No!” What the hell was that?
Chloe laughed awkwardly.
“She’s fine.” So fine. Wait. Chloe. WTF!
“So…” The woman was fishing.
“So…” Chloe completely ignored the bait.
Chloe’s eyes drifted across the room.
Beca was laughing.
Really laughing.
Head tipped back.
Smile bright.
The woman across from her was laughing too.
The bell rang.
“Oh,” Chloe said.
“I guess that’s time.” The woman did NOT sound disappointed. At all.
“Nice meeting you.” Chloe said automatically.
“You too.” Flat response.
As they stood, Chloe realized she couldn’t remember the woman’s name.
Another round.
Beca sat opposite a software engineer named Priya.
Priya admitted within thirty seconds that she hated networking events.
“I nearly turned around at the door.”
“I almost did as well.”
“You too?”
“I had my hand on the doorknob. I was ready to throw off my heels and sprint into the streets.”
“What stopped you?” Priya was laughing at Beca's description of her escape plan.
“My roommate.”
Priya smiled.
“Good roommate. I'll have to thank her later.”
“The best.”
Before long they were comparing disastrous first jobs.
By the time the bell rang, both were smiling.
Dana, the organizer, walked by carrying a clipboard.
“Everything going, okay?”
Beca nodded.
“Better than expected.”
“I thought it might.”
“You did?”
Dana smiled knowingly.
“You’ve been making people comfortable.”
“I have?”
“You ask questions.”
“I guess.”
“You actually listen.”
Beca shrugged.
“My dad always said silence makes people nervous.”
“So, you fill it with jokes?”
“…Mostly.”
Dana chuckled.
“Keep doing that.”
At Table Four…
Chloe was trying very hard to focus.
The woman opposite her was named Julia.
She was funny.
Interesting.
Loved animals.
Ordinarily Chloe would have enjoyed talking with her.
Instead…
“…and that’s why I became a physical therapist.”
“Mm-hm.”
Julia smiled.
“You’ve looked over there four times.”
“I have?”
“Five.”
Chloe blinked.
“I didn’t realize.”
“You know her?”
“My roommate.”
“The one in black?”
“…Yeah.”
Julia followed Chloe’s gaze.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“I can see why you’re watching.”
Chloe frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Julia smiled gently.
“Nothing.”
Beca’s next few conversations blurred together in the nicest possible way.
A chef.
A graphic designer.
A paramedic.
An elementary school principal.
Every conversation was different.
Some were hilarious.
Some thoughtful.
One woman spent almost the entire five minutes enthusiastically explaining competitive birdwatching.
Beca had absolutely no interest in birdwatching.
By the end…
She almost wanted binoculars.
It turned out she liked hearing people talk about things they loved.
Chloe noticed something.
It wasn’t that every woman was flirting with Beca.
Some were.
Some weren’t.
The thing they all had in common was…
They looked happier by the end of five minutes than they had at the beginning.
Beca had that effect.
She made people laugh.
She listened without interrupting.
She asked follow-up questions.
She remembered details.
Even when she was nervous, she somehow made the other person feel at ease.
Chloe smiled to herself.
She’s always done that.
At Barden.
With the Bellas.
With strangers.
With kids.
With nervous interns.
She just…
Connected.
Even though she swore up and down she was so not a people person.
The realization filled Chloe with pride.
Closely followed by something else.
A woman with silver-blonde hair touched Beca lightly on the arm as they laughed about something.
Perfectly innocent.
Perfectly friendly.
For some reason…
Chloe didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
She looked away immediately.
What was that?
The next bell rang.
Another date.
Another perfectly pleasant conversation.
Another accidental glance across the room.
Beca was smiling again.
The woman opposite her smiled back.
Then the bell rang.
They stood.
They shook hands.
The woman scribbled something enthusiastically onto her card before moving on.
Something in Chloe’s stomach tightened.
Not because the woman’d done anything wrong.
Not because Beca had.
Because…
Someone else was seeing what Chloe had seen for years.
The wit.
The kindness hidden beneath sarcasm.
The way Beca’s eyes softened when she was genuinely interested in someone.
The crooked smile that appeared before a joke.
And that hot little body.
Oh.
The thought arrived quietly.
I’m jealous.
She sat back in her chair.
I’m actually jealous.
Not because Beca had done well.
She wanted Beca to do well.
She wanted Beca to find happiness.
Didn’t she?
The answer came much more slowly than she’d expected.
…Maybe I wanted that happiness to be with me.
That thought stole the rest of the conversation she’d been trying to have.
Meanwhile…
Beca was relaxed. Confident.
And if she might say so herself, locked in on this lesbian thing.
She’d stopped worrying about saying the perfect thing.
She’d stopped rehearsing sentences in her head.
Instead…
She was simply being herself.
Dry humor.
Curiosity.
Occasional terrible puns.
One particularly memorable conversation involved discovering that both she and another woman had once accidentally dyed all their white laundry pink.
“It was one red sock,” Beca said defensively.
“It always is.”
“I still blame the sock.” Beca sounded righteously peeved by the offending article of clothing.
“As you should.” Her date nodded eagerly in agreement, caught up in the passion Beca was exuding.
The bell interrupted them.
Beca found herself smiling as she walked toward the next table.
She hadn’t expected to enjoy herself.
She wasn’t even thinking about matches anymore.
She was simply meeting interesting people.
Across the room…
Chloe watched her go.
Her chest swelled with affection.
Then, just as quickly…
With longing.
She smiled to herself despite the confusion.
“You’re in trouble, Beale.”
The final bell before the last round echoed through the room.
Dana stepped to the front with an amused smile.
“Everyone, thank you! We have one final conversation left tonight.”
People began shifting toward their last assigned tables.
Beca glanced down at her card.
Then looked up across the room.
Table Seven.
Someone else was already walking toward it.
Someone with familiar red hair.
Beca’s heart skipped.
Chloe looked down at her own card.
Then up.
Their eyes met.
Both of them smiled.
Neither of them knew it yet…
But this was about to be the most important five minutes of the evening.
The final bell rang softly.
Around the room, chairs scraped against hardwood floors as women stood, laughing, exchanging smiles, and making their final notes before turning in their cards.
Beca and Chloe didn’t move.
For the first time all evening, neither of them seemed particularly interested in what was happening anywhere else.
Beca rested her forearms on the little café table between them, suddenly fascinated by the grain of the wood.
“So…” she said quietly.
“So.”
Chloe smiled, though it looked a little uncertain.
“I think,” she said, “you’re going to have a very full inbox tomorrow.”
Beca looked up, puzzled.
“My inbox?”
“The organizer said everyone’s matches get emailed.”
“Oh.”
Chloe laughed softly.
“I lost count of how many conversations I looked over just in time to see someone laughing.”
“I wasn’t that funny.”
“You really were.”
“I was mostly talking about pigeons.”
“They seemed to enjoy the pigeon conversation.”
“I still don’t know why.”
“They also enjoyed your music stories.”
“You heard those?”
“I heard pieces.”
Chloe’s smile became smaller.
“And I saw the way people looked when they realized you were actually listening to them.”
Beca rubbed the back of her neck.
“I just… asked questions.”
“I know.”
“You always tell me people like talking about things they’re passionate about.”
“I do.”
“So, I tried that.”
“It worked.”
A comfortable silence settled over them.
Around them, people continued chatting while volunteers collected scorecards.
Chloe looked down at her own card.
She hadn’t marked very much.
She hadn’t meant to.
She simply…
Hadn’t been there.
She looked back up at Beca.
“I owe several women apologies.”
Beca blinked.
“What?”
“I was an awful speed date.”
“You?”
“I kept losing my train of thought.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true.”
“You can talk to anyone.”
“I usually can.”
“What happened?”
Chloe laughed once.
It was the kind of laugh people used when they already knew they couldn’t avoid the truth any longer.
“I got distracted.”
“By what?”
“You.”
Beca frowned.
“Me?”
“I kept watching you.”
“…Why?”
“At first…”
Chloe searched for the right words.
“I was proud.”
“Proud?”
“You came in terrified.”
“I was.”
“You thought you’d forget your own name.”
“I almost did.”
“But then…”
Chloe smiled fondly.
“You settled.”
“I guess.”
“You started making people laugh.”
“I wasn’t trying.”
“I know.”
“You started asking questions.”
“I like hearing people talk.”
“I know.”
“You’ve always been like that.”
Beca tilted her head.
“Then why were you distracted?”
Chloe let out a slow breath.
“Because every time I looked over…”
She hesitated.
“…someone else was discovering the person I’ve known since college.”
Beca’s expression softened.
“They weren’t falling for your clothes.”
Beca instinctively looked down at herself.
“They were seeing your humor.”
She smiled.
“Your kindness.”
Beca looked away.
“The way you remember little details.”
“I just pay attention.”
“The way you make people feel like they’re the most interesting person in the room.”
Beca laughed quietly.
“I don’t do that.”
“You do.”
Chloe leaned forward slightly.
“And I realized…”
She swallowed.
“…I didn’t like watching it.”
Beca looked back at her.
“You didn’t?”
Chloe shook her head.
“I thought tonight would help you meet someone wonderful.”
“Yeah?”
“I wanted that.”
“You did.”
“I really thought I did.”
She smiled sadly.
“But then every time another conversation went well…”
She laughed at herself.
“…I got jealous.”
Beca stared.
“You?”
“I know.”
“But why?”
Chloe looked at her for a long moment.
“I don’t think I actually wanted you to meet someone else.”
The room seemed to become very quiet.
Beca felt her heartbeat climbing into her throat.
“Oh.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out why all evening.”
“And?”
Chloe smiled.
“I think I already knew.”
Beca’s hands tightened around the edge of the table.
She had imagined this conversation.
Hundreds of times.
Usually, it ended with her making a joke, changing the subject, and spending another six months pretending everything was fine.
She didn’t want to do that anymore.
She took a slow breath.
“I should tell you something.”
“You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”
“I am.”
Another breath.
“I didn’t dress up for tonight.”
Chloe smiled.
“I hoped.”
“I mean…”
Beca looked down at her hands.
“I didn’t do any of it for the event.”
She laughed nervously.
“The skirt.”
“The hair.”
“The makeup.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress anyone here.”
Chloe’s heart skipped.
“No?”
Beca shook her head.
“I wanted…”
She stopped.
Started again.
“I wanted one person to notice.”
Chloe didn’t speak.
“I kept thinking…”
Beca laughed softly.
“…what if tonight is the night Chloe meets someone incredible?”
Chloe’s eyes widened.
“And she goes on a second date.”
Beca smiled weakly.
“Then a third.”
“And she falls in love.”
“I’d tell myself I was happy for her.”
She looked up.
“But I think I’d be lying.”
Chloe whispered, “Becs…”
“I realized something.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t nervous because I was meeting women.”
“You weren’t?”
“I was nervous because…”
She met Chloe’s eyes.
“…I wanted you to see me.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then Chloe laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the relief was so enormous she didn’t know what else to do.
“Oh, Beca.”
“What?”
“We’re hopeless.”
Beca blinked.
“We are?”
“We’ve been doing this since Barden.”
Beca thought about late-night rehearsals.
Movie nights.
Road trips.
The way they’d always sought each other out in crowded rooms.
The way everyone else had teased them for years.
She groaned.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“They were all right.”
“The Bellas?”
“They’re never going to let us live this down.”
Chloe burst into laughter.
“They absolutely are not.”
“I can already hear Amy.”
“‘About time!’” Chloe said in a really horrible Australian accent.
Beca covered her face.
“Aubrey’s going to pretend she knew from day one.”
“She probably did.”
“Lilly definitely knew.”
“Lilly definitely knew.”
They laughed together until both of them had tears in their eyes.
Dana approached their table carrying a small stack of envelopes.
“There you two are.”
Both women looked up.
“We’re just about to start collecting the match cards.”
Beca glanced at Chloe.
Chloe glanced back.
Then, almost simultaneously, they both smiled.
“You know…” Chloe said.
“I don’t think I need to hand mine in.”
Beca shook her head.
“I don’t either.”
Dana looked between them.
A knowing smile slowly spread across her face.
“I was wondering if this might happen.”
“You were?” Chloe asked.
Dana chuckled.
“I’ve been running these events for six years.”
She gestured gently between them.
“You spent more time looking at each other than anyone else in the room.”
Both women immediately blushed.
“I’ll just…” Dana tucked the envelopes back under her arm.
“…call this one a successful evening.”
As she walked away, Beca laughed.
“So…”
“So.”
“You want to get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
The cool Manhattan evening greeted them as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
The city buzzed around them.
Yellow taxis.
Street musicians.
People hurrying home.
For the first few blocks they walked in comfortable silence.
Neither seemed eager to break the spell.
Finally, Beca smiled.
“You still owe me pizza.”
“I do?”
“You promised.” Beca said in a tone that indicated pizza was not something you joked about.
“I also promised dessert.” Chloe said with a wink.
“I remember.” Beca surprised both of them by returning Chloe’s wink.
A little neighborhood pizzeria welcomed them with the smell of fresh dough and garlic.
They ordered far too much food.
Sat in a booth by the window.
And spent the next hour laughing.
Beca told Chloe about the competitive birdwatcher.
Chloe confessed she’d accidentally spent three minutes talking to someone while mentally composing compliments about Beca’s hair.
Beca nearly choked on her soda laughing.
“You were really that distracted?”
“I was hopeless.”
“You should’ve said something.”
“I was busy figuring it out myself.”
By the time the check arrived, both of them were smiling so much their cheeks hurt.
Outside again, Manhattan glittered around them.
They wandered without any particular destination.
“So,” Chloe said eventually.
“Yeah?”
“I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Does tonight count as our first date?”
Beca pretended to think.
“It had about fifteen interruptions.”
“True.”
“And I was technically supposed to be dating other people. So were you, Beale”
“Fair point, Mitchell.”
“So…”
She smiled.
“I think our first date should last longer than five minutes.”
Chloe’s answering smile was bright enough to rival the lights of Times Square.
“I’d like that.”
Beca hesitated.
Then held out her hand.
Not dramatically.
Just hopefully.
Chloe looked at it for only a moment before slipping her fingers into Beca’s.
Their hands fit together easily.
As if they’d been rehearsing for years without realizing it.
They continued down the sidewalk, talking about music, terrible apartments, future plans, and whether the Bellas would ever let them forget how spectacularly oblivious they’d both been.
The city stretched out before them, loud and alive and full of possibilities.
Neither of them knew exactly what came next.
Their careers were uncertain.
Money was tight.
The future was unwritten.
But as they walked through Manhattan hand in hand…excited, nervous, and smiling at each other every few steps…it felt, for the first time in a long while, like they were heading in exactly the right direction.
Five minutes had been enough to change everything.
The rest of their story, they decided, deserved a whole lot longer.