Pitch Perfect Fanfiction

Here’s a post with links to the scenes I’ve written 🤓

Scene One - Intro/Opening Scene.

Scene Two - The Barden Bellas call Emily/Emily tries to get hold of Chloe.

Scene Three - Beca at a record-signing event in NYC.

Scene Four - Chloe talks to Beca about the Barden Bellas.

Scene Five - Beca calls the captain of The Barden Bellas.

Scene Six - Chloe contacts The Bellas via WhatsApp.

Scene Seven - The Barden Bellas speak to Chloe.

Scene Eight - The Barden Bellas meet The Old Bellas.

Scene Nine - The Barden Bellas first Riff-Off

Scene Ten - Beca is interviewed by Ellen Degeneres.

Scene Eleven - The Bellas ask Chloe about Beca’s boyfriend.

Scene Twelve - The Bellas say farewell to The Barden Bellas.

Scene Thirteen - Beca struggles to concentrate at work. Beca calls Chloe.

Scene Fourteen - The Barden Bellas and The Treblemakers perform at the ICCA’s regional competition.

Scene Fifteen - Beca has an argument with Theo at work.

Scene Sixteen - Chloe calls Beca. Beca has another argument with Theo.

Scene Seventeen - The Bellas visit The Barden Bellas.

Scene Eighteen - Beca explains the plan.

Scene Nineteen - The Bellas grill Beca about ‘her boyfriend’. The Barden Bellas get buddied up with certain Bellas.

Scene Twenty - Beca gets distracted.

Scene Twenty One - Beca and Aubrey have a heart-to-heart.

Scene Twenty Two - The Bellas show The Barden Bellas what performance they’re going to learn.

Scene Twenty Three - Chloe gets a call from Theo.

Scene Twenty Four - Beca gives Daisy some advice.

Scene Twenty Five - Chloe confesses something to Aubrey.

Scene Twenty Six - Daisy talks to Robbie. The Bellas and The Barden Bellas watch a movie all together.

Scene Twenty Seven - Theo and Mikey come up with a way of finding Beca.

Scene Twenty Eight - Mikey asks The Bellas and The Barden Bellas where Beca is. Aubrey comes up with a plan.

Scene Twenty Nine - Beca and Chloe meet Beca’s family.

Scene Thirty - Chloe speaks to Aubrey, Stacie, and Daisy. Caidence finds The Bellas and The Barden Bellas.

Scene Thirty One - Beca finds The Bellas and The Barden Bellas up to something.

Scene Thirty Two - Beca and Chloe have a heart-to-heart.

Scene Thirty Three - The Bellas and The Barden Bellas re-group the next morning.

Scene Thirty Four - Beca and Mikey have a chat.

Scene Thirty Five - The Barden Bellas perform at the ICCA Semi Finals.

Scene Thirty Six - Beca feels the pressure. Beca performs at The Oscars.

Scene Thirty Seven - Aubrey gives Beca some advice.

Scene Thirty Eight - Robbie supports Daisy.

Scene Thirty Nine - Daisy contacts Chloe. Chloe calls Beca.

Scene Forty - Beca chats to Theo and Mikey.

Scene Forty One - Fat Amy has a tradition she wants to uphold.

Scene Forty Two - The Bellas and The Barden Bellas prank The Treblemakers. Beca wakes up late.

Scene Forty Three - Mikey gets in trouble.

Scene Forty Four - The Bellas say goodbye to The Barden Bellas. Beca arrives back in San Francisco.

Scene Forty Five - Beca finds out about Mikey.

Scene Forty Six - The ICCA Finals. the Treblemakers Perform. Beca has a surprise.

Scene Forty Seven - The Barden Bellas perform. Then Beca performs.

Scene Forty Eight - Beca confronts Theo. The results of the ICCA’s are announced.

Scene Forty Nine - The Bellas and The Barden Bellas find out about Beca and Chloe. Beca has some news for Chloe.

Scene Fifty - Everything turns out alright in the end.

Scene Fifty One [final scene] - The Barden Bellas have a special performance for The Bellas.

Scene Fifty Two [mid-credits scene] - The Bellas & The Barden Bellas gather for Bella’s 4th Birthday Party.

It’s kinda suggested that Beca & Chloe are a thing now. But it’s not explicitly mentioned within the story (well..not so far anyway..)

I think if PP4 did open with pre-established Bechloe then it’d be subtle. And certainly wouldn’t be the focal point of the storyline.

(Or how it should’ve gone)

(Because it’s been, like, 6 years, and we’ve still never seen the HD version of that deleted scene)

There’s a soft ticking noise from the clock on the mantelpiece. Beca eases the front door closed and lets out an exhale, a tired smile sweeping across her face.

It’s funny, she thinks, the way this place immediately makes her relax. Immediately reminds her how stressful her job is. Of how relentless being in the public eye is. Of how safe this tiny cottage makes her feel.

She allows her travel luggage to slip from her shoulder, landing at her feet with a thud. She lets out a light chuckle when she sees a large tabby cat stretch from its favourite position on the back of the couch, bathing in a pool of its own fur covering the rainbow blanket which is specifically there to protect the fabric of the couch itself.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Gismo,’ she mumbles quietly when the cat gives her a side-eye for disturbing him, ‘I’ve only been gone seven weeks.’

She slips her sneakers from her feet, and curls her toes into the long shag pile rug as she does every time she returns home from tour. Her eyes gloss over her trinkets and belongings that line the windowsill and bookshelves and mantelpiece above the fireplace. Trinkets that are merged with her wife’s, and some that they’ve chosen together over the years.

Beca bites her lip when she moves a little further into the lounge, keeping her ears peeled for movement, but she hears nothing more than the clock that’s set to London time. The clock that’s set to whatever time zone she’s performing in so her wife knows when to call her or expect a call in return.

‘Oh you’ve forgiven me then?’ she asks, her grin broadening as Gismo wraps himself around her legs. She picks him up and allows him to bop her cheek with the top of his head over and over, his thick-set purr rumbling from deep within his body, and she chuckles, ‘You’ve been looking after Mommy like you promised, right?’

She’s never been a cat person, but after a devastatingly long world tour ten years ago, Beca hadn’t denied her wife when she’d requested they adopt the stray cat with one eye that seemed to have an unhealthy interest in the large composter they’d erected at the end of their long cottage garden. Gismo is as much part of the furniture as the furniture itself and provides Beca with the peace of mind that whenever she’s away her wife has company at home. Still, she enjoys his little head-boops, even if she doesn’t admit it out loud.

At last she hears the heavy clunk of the back door, and the sound of a heavy sigh. The wicker picnic basket lands on the little kitchen table with a thud, clearly filled with fruit and vegetables from their garden.

Beca feels her excitement increase, imagining exactly how her wife will look the moment she realises she’s home from her European tour three days earlier than planned.

‘Mo-Mo?’ she hears her wife’s sweet voice sing out from the kitchen, ‘Mommy got you apple from the garden!’

Beca smirks. She’s never known a cat like theirs - one that adores the apples they pick from their apple trees at the bottom of their garden. Beca’s tried to advise they keep the apple feeding to a minimum but it’s no surprise to her that her wife goes rogue while she’s away. So she allows their cat to scramble out of her arms and race through to the kitchen.

She slowly follows, her hands stuffed into her back pockets. She pauses in the doorway, leaning her arm on the frame, and takes a deep breath.

This is what they’ve always dreamt of. A little cottage, away from the prying eyes of the general public, with a beautiful long garden full of flowers and vegetable patches and fruit bushes and trees. It’s taken seven long years, but they finally have their home exactly the way they want it.

Beca sees her wife leaning over a chopping board, slicing a freshly picked apple up into chunks. Her beautiful long red hair is tied up in a loose knot, strands falling down her cheeks, and Beca notices a few beads of sweat on her wife’s forehead. As stunning as she was the first day she met her; the first day she spoke to her; the first day she duetted with her; the first day she moved in with her; the first time they kissed; the first time they had sex; the first time they swapped ‘I love yous’; the day they eloped; the first day they looked around this cottage; the first day they moved into it…

Chloe places the apple down into a little cat bowl then lets out a sharp gasp as her eyes land on the figure of her wife.

‘Wha—?’ she bursts, a broad dazzling smile sweeping across her face.

‘Surprise, babe.’

Chloe lets out a squeal of delight and darts over to Beca, pulling her into a piercing kiss, hands cradling her cheeks. Beca sweeps her arms around her wife’s waist that Chloe’s been so self conscious of in recent years. (‘You’re going to leave me for a younger skinnier girl one day’ she whined, staring at her naked self in the mirror, her hands sweeping her stomach. ‘Not a chance’, Beca replied, curling her arms around Chloe from behind and placing a kiss on the nape of her neck, ‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the world’.)

‘You’re home early!’ Chloe says, tears of joy beginning to roll down her cheeks.

‘I’m home early,’ Beca replies.

They both chuckle and kiss again and again, giddy within one another’s presence, together at last.

Just as Beca is about to broach the subject of dinner out to celebrate, Chloe shakes in excitement, almost fit to burst. It takes her by surprise. Chloe’s usually thrilled to be reunited with her but not quite like this. Then suddenly the reason becomes clear.

‘I’m pregnant!’

Beca’s jaw drops, her eyes watering and nose tingling as Chloe falls into a rapid description of how their sixth round of IVF has finally finally worked and how she’d only taken a pregnancy test this morning, then had proceeded to take several more tests and had planned on telling Beca once she’d returned home from her little European tour and now she had, Chloe could.

All the while, Beca finds her hands naturally gravitating to Chloe’s soft stomach, sweeping her palms across the skin. The fear and anxiety surrounding the pregnancy will come in due course, but for now, Beca and Chloe Mitchell relish this little moment of perfect happiness.

Project Bloe WhatsApp

FAT AMY: Merry Christmas aca-bitches!

EMILY: Omg

STACIE: Merry Christmas sexy ladies 😘

EMILY: (Merry Christmas everyone btw 💕)

CR: Merry Christmas!

CR: Fat Amy this better be a Beca and Chloe update 👀

JESSICA: Yes how did their date-not-a-date date go??

JESSICA: (Merry Christmas 🥰)

Ashley: Merry Christmas 🤩

JESSICA: Babe, I’m sat next to you 🥰

ASHLEY: It was meant for the others 😆

JESSICA: 😘

FLO: Happy Christmas 🌸

FAT AMY: Bloe’s date-not-a-date date was definitely 100% a date 😂

EMILY: I’m so confused

EMILY: So was it a date or not?

STACIE: Emily catch up!!!

STACIE: Beca asked Chloe if she wanted to go for a drink after work on Christmas Eve

STACIE: Chloe freaked out because she didn’t know if Beca meant in a romantic way

CR: Accidentally burnt herself with her flat-iron she was so busy worrying

STACIE: 👆

FLO: One time I burnt myself on lava…but yes that kind of burn is horrible too.

ASHLEY: Beca got home and helped with the burn

STACIE: Which was conveniently on her collarbone 😏

FAT AMY: The tension here was as WILD as bush kangaroos in heat!!

CR: Fat Amy was hiding on her bed behind the clothes rail divider reporting everything

FAT AMY:

LILLY: They’re in bed together now

FAT AMY: So they didn’t establish if the drink that night would be a romantic drink or a drink as friends

CR: Which drove Chloe crazy

FAT AMY: yep

JESSICA: And last we heard, they’d gone out on the date-not-a-date…

EMILY: This’ll teach me to have my WhatsApp notifications switched on 😭

FAT AMY: ANYWAY I have an update!!!!!

Fat Amy stood at the foot of the foldout bed in the studio apartment in Brooklyn, Santa hat on her head, still dressed in the tight fitting red sequin dress she’d worn the night before. As expected, she’d found a hookup quickly - at the first bar she’d entered - and was only now returning home. The clock read 5am.

CR: 👀

EMILY:

STACIE: 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

CR: Stacie manifesting something there 😂

STACIE: You know exactly what I’m manifesting 😜

Fat Amy grinned and looked down at the bed. She’d not told her roommates she’d be back tonight. She hadn’t not told them either, so she’d covered all bases if they ended up getting mad at her. Which they shouldn’t do, because it wasn’t her fault they’d gone out drinking last night and were now curled up naked together with the thick winter blanket covering up to their chests, arms very clearly around each other.

FAT AMY: Bloe banged last night!!!!!

CR: YAAAAAAAAS 🥳

STACIE: Details immediately!!

STACIE: What do you see right now??

EMILY: 🥹 they’re finally together!

ASHLEY: Jess, you owe me $5

LILLY: Chloe kissed Beca first

JESS: @Ash $5 already under your pillow 😁

FLO: 😍 do you think they’re in love?

LILLY: but Beca was the one who initiated making out on the way home

STACIE: Fat Amy!!! WHERE’S THE DETAILS??

FAT AMY: I’ve just got home!

FAT AMY: They’re naked in bed together!

CR: So much for Beca not having any feelings for Chloe, Aubrey 😂

ASHLEY: Oh yeah! Where IS our illustrious old aca-leader?

Aubrey paced quickly down the corridor, brought out her card key, and slammed into her hotel room. Her chest heaved as she pushed the door closed behind her and leant her back against it, her eyes squeezing closed. Flashes of last night crossed her mind, and a coy smile spread across her face while her fingertips smoothed delicately across her skin. They tracked over the deep love-bites on either side of her neck and she thought about the two women who had laid naked with her overnight.

It’d been a total accident bumping into Beca and Chloe last night, but a happy one. They’d all let their hair down, consumed way too many cocktails, and when she’d watched Chloe suddenly pull Beca into a deep kiss she’d felt something stir within her.

Project Bloe WhatsApp

LILLY: Aubrey was with them

FAT AMY: No idea

ASHLEY: Yeah it’s not like her to not have an opinion 😂

- your secret Santa ❄️

Ooh well hello there, Santa!

Day 2 - “I Need Your Help”

“This is way out of my comfort zone.” Beca admitted, her eyes on the folder held out to her.

“Says the girl with like a million tattoos.”

Beca rolled her eyes, “Not a million,” then took the folder, reluctantly opening it out on a page that happened to be various love hearts. “besides these tattoos were ones I’d picked for myself, not for someone else!”

Chloe rocked back and forth with a playful smile on her face, twisting her expression into one like a puppy-dog pleading, “I need your help” she said, then she pouted. Beca rolled her eyes again and huffed.

“Fine.” She pointed at a little heart design on the page, perfect for her best friend’s ankle, “This one would look really cute on you.”

Day 1 - Coffee Shop AU

Chloe shifted from foot to foot, glancing at her watch at forty second intervals. The delivery was late, which was usual for the Saturday delivery - the Saturday driver always blamed the city traffic of Atlanta - but the Tuesday delivery was never late. Chloe, deputy manager of Brewney Toons (a coffee shop that prided itself on quality coffee and quality music), made sure that when she did the rota’s that she always worked the Tuesday shift.

She remained stood just outside the back door of the building, and her heart began racing when her ears caught the familiar sound of the delivery truck, with very specific beats thudding from the sound system within the vehicle. Sure enough, the truck spluttered to a halt, and as light as a feather the delivery driver leapt out from the seat down onto the ground before her.

“Sorry I’m late.” the driver said, nipping over to open the back of the vehicle, “There was something wrong under the bonnet.”

Chloe tried to play it cool, but she couldn’t help staring at the driver’s physique. Petite yet strong, fascinating tattoo sleeves, and for the first time since their initial meeting three months ago the driver was covered in dried oil that was plastered to her hands and face.

“No worries.” Chloe managed to choke out, as new woman hopped up into the back of the truck. “Everything ok now?”

“Yeah I just had to jimmy a few bits around. No bother.” the woman began unloading the stock, transferring it across to the back door with ease. As she passed Chloe, there was a distinct smell of perfume. Chloe always loved it, and made an effort to wear extra perfume herself.

They didn’t know each other so well that they could class themselves as friends, but they were getting to know each other more and more each week. It excited Chloe no end. What she didn’t know was that it excited the other woman too.

“Oh, I uh, I watched that documentary you recommended I watch. About the cheerleading?” Chloe said, and her heart lifted at the sight of the woman’s smile, clearly recognising the conversation from last week.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah it was really good!” Chloe continued, rocking back and forth while the stock was piled up. This woman - Beca - was the first woman Chloe had ever had a crush on. It was tough to have to endure six days between seeing her, and even tougher that their interaction only lasted twelve minutes, but it was worth it.

“Did you watch it with your boyfriend?” Beca asked, heaving the final tray of cocoa onto a pile.

“Oh.” Chloe said, a little surprised by the implication. Beca clearly assumed she was straight. “No I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Your girlfriend then.” Beca replied, reaching into the door of the truck to pull out some paperwork.

“No girlfriend either.” Chloe said, finding it difficult not to stare at the drivers cute butt while Beca made her way back down to her.

“Would you like a girlfriend?” Beca asked, as casual as though she was asking for the time. She held out the paperwork for Chloe to sign and after a moments hesitation, Chloe took it. Her stomach twisted in glee as Beca grinned at her then gave her a wink.

“I finish at 5.” She replied, and Beca’s whole face appeared to light up.

“Meet you out the front of here at 5 then?”

The day before this scene from Pitch Perfect 4

The key slid into the lock with a perfect clack, twisting smoothly in place until she heard a click and the metal give way slightly. Gone were the days of having to shunt the door open with her hip at a particular angle to get into the apartment. Now Beca stepped inside freely, releasing a breath of air she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

Home. She was finally home.

All the nostalgia from years gone by, prior to her fame and mass-success, came flooding to the forefront of her mind. A tired smile swept across her face. The September light that trickled through from the main window of the studio apartment was exactly how it had always been at this time of day in years gone by - a soft orange glow from the sunset touching upon the furniture and objects on and around said furniture.

Beca gently pushed the door closed behind her, flinching at the loud bang it made at the end of its move. She was used to doors closing far softer and more silent than that. Perhaps she needed to invest in a new one? Though this door was only a couple of years old, so some would say a new one so soon would be wasteful…

Her eyes moved slowly from one aspect of the apartment to another, drinking in all the details she’d missed so desperately while she’d been away:

A mass of coats to address every type of weather Brooklyn had to offer across the year, all hung haphazardly on a tall free-standing coat stand, reminding her of a board-game (Buckaroo) that she’d once played with her friends back in college. Just one more jacket and she was sure it’d topple.

An expensive wooden shoe rack that looked fit to burst with heels, flats, sandals, boots, sneakers. All of which belonged to one person, and that person wasn’t her.

A collection of hair pins and earrings and hair elastics and a rogue hairbrush. All gathered in a chaotic pile, with random strands of long red hair, on the small table by the door, clearly having been discarded there each evening after a long busy day, for goodness knows how many days. Possibly weeks.

Photo montages adorned the walls nearest to her. Even with the emergence of modern phones, there appeared to be something so comforting about looking at physical photos that had been thought about and chosen to be specifically printed at The Brooklyn Snap Store a couple of blocks away. Photos from almost a decade ago. Photos from a few years ago. Photos from recent months. Beca had had enough exposure to her own image that she no longer felt an ‘ick’ when seeing herself on a wall. Especially when, in each photo, she had her arms draped affectionately around the waist or shoulders of a very familiar person. Her person.

With a soft smile spreading across her face, Beca slowly stepped further into the room, noting the familiar creak of the floorboards, each with their own particular sound. Her eyes drifted down and she let out a light chuckle and a gentle tut when she saw a damp towel pooled in a heap at her feet. Picking it up and opening it out, she caught a waft of the vanilla and jasmine shower gel she loved, the smell of which made her heart skip a beat. There was something so comforting about that smell she’d known for almost a decade.

She flopped the opened towel over the back of one of the dining chairs to her left, her smile remaining as she noticed a half eaten toasted bagel abandoned on a small plate on the small dining table. Collecting it, she moved slowly over to the kitchen sink, tipping the stale food into the trash. Her hand automatically shot out towards a handle and she tugged the small dishwasher open, poised to find a temporary location for the dirty plate.

“Chloeee.” she mumbled with a chuckle, as she was met by a dishwasher filled with cool clean dry ceramics, glass and cutlery. Chloe had never been one to empty a dishwasher unless absolutely necessary. Not even back in college. So Beca placed the dirty plate on the surface beside the sink, suddenly aware that it wasn’t the only piece of dinnerware that was awaiting a turn in the dishwasher.

Seven…no eight coffee cups, a precariously stacked pile of cereal bowls, too many spoons of varying size to count, three kitchen knives, two chopping boards, three plates, and four casserole dishes. All waiting for the dishwasher to be emptied.

Many would be mistaken for thinking that this apartment needed a bigger dishwasher. But Beca knew it wouldn’t matter if there were ten dishwashers in this tiny apartment, Chloe would still put off emptying them. And it was this unintentionally rebellious quality that Beca loved about her. Well, one of the many qualities Beca loved about her.

For the next three and a half minutes Beca happily busied herself, emptying the dishwasher and finding great relief when she quickly discovered that none of the contents in the cupboards had been switched around since she’d last been home. So coffee cups went into the cup cupboard, along with a wine glass, and several colourful plastic cups; plates went into the plate cupboard, closely followed by cereal bowls; spoons, more spoons, a few forks, and a couple of dinner knives went into the cutlery draw; the large silver mixing bowl was returned to the kitchen aid in the corner of the worktop, then Beca realised the kitchen aid’s attachments needed to be locked into the machine before placing the bowl, so she did just that; and finally a soap dish…which Chloe had always maintained needed fortnightly dishwashing, was returned to the bath edge, beside the taps, where it’d always lived between wash cycles.

Then, as methodical as she had been when emptying the dishwasher, she set about filling it with the dirty items. It wasn’t full enough to justify switching it on, so Beca closed the door, and let out a sigh of content. There was something so satisfying about doing housework, especially as she no longer had a need to do it when she was away from home. Which was for a lot of the year, unfortunately.

Reaching for a nearby cupboard, Beca’s eyes glossed over the contents, a soft smile growing on her face when she honed in on an A5 sized black tin. She pulled it out, her fingertips lightly gripping the metal, just as they had done for as long as she’d owned it. The tin was dented in many places, the lid barely fitting correctly on top of it, and on that lid there were heaps of doodles and patterns that had been carved into the metal with a mathematical compass, exposing the silver beneath the black coating. Despite its age and its obvious frailty, she spared it no second thought as she lobbed it down onto the kitchen work-surface beneath the cupboard, turning her attention to another cupboard to search for her favourite coffee cup.

Her coffee cup, as it turned out, was towards the back of the cup cupboard, which was a sign of how long it had been since she’d been home. Thirty three days to be precise. Which, when broken down into weeks, was technically only just under five weeks, and not the longest time she’d been away. But any time away from home was excruciating for Beca right now. Especially with an impending World Tour on the cards. It was anybody’s guess how long she’d be away for that.

Lifting the lid of the tin, a familiar coffee musk emanated from within, and she stared down at a collection of very expensive coffee pods. Her most favourite coffee. The coffee she saved to drink here. Nowhere else felt enough like home to warrant drinking it there. No, it had to be here. Another home comfort.

Then she had to familiarise herself with the Nespresso machine. People usually made her coffee or sent out for coffee. She rarely had the luxury of being able to make her own.

Luxury. Funny, most people would class luxury as fast cars, supermodel girlfriends, super yachts, fine dining, not having to worry about money… Beca classed luxury as a simple pleasure: making her own coffee, unloading the dishwasher, being able to exist in a space without her record label demanding to talk to her every other minute of the day.

As she slotted the coffee pod into the machine, she felt a momentary sense of unease. There was no escaping that fact that she’d be in trouble with the label tomorrow. Walking out on a meeting with execs was probably not a good move on her part. But, she internally argued, it was pretty rock n roll, right?

She turned on the spot and leant back against the work surface, folding her arms comfortably. Her ears honed in on the coffee being poured into her favourite cup. Then, as she remained in one place, she began to hear more. The honks and beeps of the Brooklyn traffic outside; the clang of water pipes as neighbours above and below the apartment showered after a long working day; the light hum of the Smeg fridge, still stood in all its glory - Beca’s first ever appliance purchase after signing her recording contract three years ago; out in the hallway, a meow coming from Twinkle (one of Ms Oakridge’s cats) asking its owner to be let inside.

Beca took hold of her coffee cup, and slowly made her way over to her side of the bed. She placed the cup down carefully on her favourite coaster - the one Amy had made for her with a photo of her performance character ‘Fat Amy Winehouse’ on. “To keep you grounded when fame gets to your head” Amy had said with every ounce of seriousness that her expression exuded. It definitely kept Beca feeling grounded, that was for sure.

She shuffled back round to sit at the foot of the bed, to drink in the sight of her perfect little home. It was the last place anyone would expect a multimillion dollar recording artist to live. Which was what made it all the more perfect.

It was little more than eighteen months ago when she’d finally gotten around to buying the place. Turns out it was a bit of a steal compared to other apartments in the area, but Beca didn’t care. With the help of Chloe she’d managed to upgrade it all: new waterworks, a new kitchen, new bath (“I love having a bath too much Beca!” Chloe had exclaimed. Beca hadn’t argued); a proper in-built floor to ceiling screen to separate the bath and toilet area from the rest of the studio apartment; the old tatty couch that folded out into a bed had been replaced by an expensive modern couch (which also happened to fold out into a bed for any visiting guests) - Beca had even warmed up to its ‘burnt orange’ colour that Chloe had picked out. But the best upgrade had to be the windows. It may have cost Beca way more money than most would deem necessary spending on a run-down studio apartment in the middle of Brooklyn, but it had been a game-changer, keeping the apartment cool(ish) in summer, and loads warmer in winter.

Beca’s attention drifted down to the large colourful rug that had been a surprisingly impulsive buy on Chloe’s behalf, the woman having stalked the departments of Macy’s Black Friday sale last year. She remembered the looks on the delivery guys faces when they’d reached the apartment door, entirely out of breath with the rolled up rug over their shoulders, grunting about the building’s broken down elevator. Beca had tipped them handsomely and Chloe had practically burst into tears she was so thrilled with how well the large rug fitted their apartment.

Her Mom, as it turned out, actually really liked the rug. Which had surprised Beca because Lynn had never really been a lover of any colours beyond black, dark grey, navy, and at a push a very dark green. Chloe’d said she had probably just been polite when reacting to the sight of the new feature in the apartment that looked as though it was something taken from the costume department of Joseph and his Technicolor Dream Coat, but Beca knew her Mom. She knew her facial expressions and mannerisms and what they all meant. Her Mom didn’t just like the rug. Her Mom liked Chloe too.

Turned out Beca had been right and Chloe had been wrong, Lynn hadn’t reacted that way just to be polite. Lynn genuinely liked her only daughter’s girlfriend, which had been a massive relief to both Beca and Chloe respectively. The woman didn’t visit Brooklyn much, but when she did she often kept Chloe company while Beca busied herself with work, joining her for shopping trips in Manhattan and visits to the local farmers market for fresh produce.

Luckily for Beca, money was now no bother. And as such it was no bother for Chloe either. Beca had assured Chloe a long time ago that her earnings were now totally at Chloe’s disposal, which to most would seem a risky proposition, but Beca trusted Chloe implicitly. Both with her finances and with her life.

Beca no longer needed to buy things - things just turned up for free from advertisers or businesses or fans or generous colleagues, all through the label. Credit to Chloe, the woman hadn’t gone crazy with Beca’s money and had actually been living a relatively modest life while her millionaire girlfriend paid her vet school fees and living costs, then financed her lifestyle.

Her eyes drew over to a framed photo on the windowsill behind the couch. A photo of her proudest college achievement. A photo from the night she and the rest of her friends, together, won the World Championships of Acapella. 2015, the year they were World Champions.

The frame that photo was in was the very frame used to store that particular memory back in her final few weeks of college. It had been given to her by Chloe as a ‘goodbye’ gift, that the woman had bought and given to each of the girls in their collegiate acapella group, just before they left college for good.

Beca smirked at the way the light from the window touched upon the slight dent in the top left of the frame. Chloe had been devastated when Fat Amy had accidentally held the moving box wrong, thus having the bottom of the box falling open, and the contents within spilling down the staircase of the apartment block they were just moving into that day. Beca had been impressed that the only casualty from that box had been the photo frame, and even then it’d only sustained a small dent. Chloe eventually got over it.

Approaching footsteps could be heard in the corridor outside and Beca found herself sitting upright a little more. She knew those footsteps, the sound of which had her heart rate increasing in excitement. She was home a day earlier than planned. Chloe was going to be over the moon.

The lock mechanism sounded and Beca silently sucked in a breath to hold as she watched her girlfriend step happily into the apartment. She watched in fascination as Chloe kept her eyes squeezed closed, swaying her hips to the beat of a song she was singing along to while AirPods sat snugly in her ears. Closing the door carefully behind her, locking the door up, throwing her handbag and light jacket towards the arm of the couch, then jigging over to the fridge were all movements that came so freely to Chloe that it was obvious this was what she did every single day she got home from Vet School.

Beca recognised the lyrics her girlfriend sang. How could she not? She’d sung them far too frequently since she’d released the song a few weeks ago.

Chloe stopped suddenly, her brow lightly furrowing as her gaze set upon the appearance of the sink area of the little kitchen. More specifically the cleared sink area. A cleared sink meant only one thing. And it was in that moment, Chloe clearly noted the scent of Beca’s favourite coffee that was only present when the woman was finally home.

A yelp of delight, paired with a beaming smile, was produced by Chloe, and Beca couldn’t help the loud chuckle that fell from her mouth as her girlfriend immediately launched her way over to her, knocking her back onto the bed with her body weight.

“You’re home early!!!” Chloe squealed in glee, her lips immediately finding their way to Beca’s, pressing firmly against the flesh over and over again while they both giggled into one another’s mouths.

“How?” kiss “Why?” kiss.

Beca, with her arms already wrapped comfortably around Chloe’s waist, allowed her face to be peppered with mini kisses. Previous to the time they’d started dating this form of affection towards her would’ve been a big no-no for Beca. Kisses kept to a minimum unless specifically getting intimate. Definitely no ‘pickle-kisses’ as Chloe called them (“Why ‘pickle’?” Beca had asked with an amused smirk. “Because ‘pickle’ is such a cute word to say!” Chloe had attempted to justify with a nonchalant shrug, her pupils blown with desire.) But after a couple of years of dating Beca was a changed woman when it came to affection - both receiving and giving - and would take all the pickle-kisses Chloe had to offer, especially now after thirty three days apart.

“I just couldn’t wait any longer.” Beca replied with a chuckle, her eyes reluctantly closed as her girlfriend continued the onslaught of pickle-kisses now aimed at her neck. “I had to get home. I had to see you.”

Suddenly Chloe let out a huge gasp, launching herself off the bed to stand up, entirely embarrassed. Beca, confused, propped herself up with her arms.

“Wha-?”

“Oh God Beca, I’m a mess!” Chloe motioned to her hair, then to her body. Beca hadn’t a clue what her girlfriend meant. Her often unruly red hair was tied up into a loose top-knot, and her clothes looked as though they’d been barely worn (which Beca knew they wouldn’t have been because she knew Chloe was part-way through her latest college placement, so would’ve worn her farming gear).

“You’re not a mess!” Beca protested, a gentle smile of affection on her face as her girlfriend brought her hands to her nose to check they didn’t smell of cow faeces.

“You’re probably blinded by love, or-or probably can’t smell properly because of your favourite coffee-”

“So what if I’m blinded by love, Chloe?” Beca interjected kindly, knowing all too well the signals of her girlfriend beginning to panic: her arms would flail, her body would stiffen, her brow would knit, tears would glisten in her eyes, her words would sound a little higher pitched, and for the most part she looked something similar to a deer trapped in headlights.

Chloe blew air from her mouth, directing it up with her bottom lip to create enough of a draft to allow the rogue wisps of hair near her forehead to drift gently back in place. Her hands were resting on her hips, then flopped down to her sides.

“I’m sorry,” she whined, and Beca rose to her feet, “I just had visions of getting myself looking really pretty for you and-”

“But you’re already pretty!” Beca insisted, reaching for Chloe’s hands.

“And I was going to tidy the apartment up properly, and-and make your favourite meal, and get your favourite beer in and-”

“Chloe!” Beca looked earnestly at her girlfriend, and Chloe appeared to take a deep breath in an attempt to settle her anxiety.

“You’re beautiful. And I love you. And I’ve missed you so damn much that I skipped out of a meeting today with the label so I could get to you sooner.”

Chloe’s face contorted into a look of horror at the latter confession, knowing full well how much trouble Beca got in any time she walked out of a meeting. But Beca battled on, trying to convince her girlfriend to calm down.

“And do you seriously think I don’t know you well enough by now to know that you’d planned on doing all those sweet things for me before I got home?”

It was true - Chloe always looked tip-top whenever Beca first got home after time away with work. She always made the apartment look spotless, and cooked spaghetti bolognese from scratch because it was Beca’s absolute favourite. And she always, always made sure Beca’s favourite beers were chilling in the fridge.

“So don’t freak out, babe.” Beca noted the way Chloe’s shoulders relaxed, and it helped her own stress seep away while she gently squeezed her hands.

“You’re sure I don’t smell of cows?” Chloe mumbled, and Beca couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from her mouth.

“Definitely not.”

Beca didn’t normally love a mix that she’d made. And she certainly didn’t like any as quickly as she liked the mix she was making right now. It was only two hours since she’d sat down and already she was certain, she was going to love the final product. Which meant any prospective recording company looking for a ‘Junior Music Producer extraordinaire’ would love it too. And that was exactly what Beca was aiming for. Anything to finally quit BFD Records and move to a better company.

She let out a yawn, easing her head from left to right, enjoying the clicking her neck made that relieved the stress on her joints. She was starting to feel her age. How did she know that? Because it was only 9pm and she was already contemplating going to bed.

Gone were the days when she would stay up mixing until 1am, go to bed, then wake at noon. The good old days back in college when really, in the grand scheme of things, she had no responsibilities other than leading The Bellas and getting herself to as many of her classes as possible on time. The simple life.

Now, however, every weekday felt like walking through treacle. The record company she worked for sang her praises, but never gave her a pay rise or promotion to reflect the brilliant feedback. Which meant most of her money went on rent and bills. Not exactly the dream life Beca had expected to have by the time she was twenty seven, but who was she to argue?

Pulling her Beats from her ears to hang around her neck, then pushing her screen-glasses from the bridge of her nose up onto the top of her head, Beca let out another yawn and sat back in her chair. The creak it made was a sound she was more than familiar with, having lived in this studio apartment for more than three years now. It was sometimes a comforting creak - that of her favourite chair. But sometimes it was an irritating creak - a reminder that the chair, much like the rest of the furniture in this crap hole, were beyond their hypothetical use by date. And Beca would just get angry with it, then angry with the world, then angry with her job and the company she worked for. Anger that would turn into tears of despair, because life seemed so unfair.

Then moments after that despair she’d look to the inside of her wrist, at a fairly recent tattoo of a tiny raincloud, and her despair would subside. Because living here in these conditions would be unbearable if it wasn’t for the person she lived here with. The very person who had drawn that raincloud design for Beca to have tattooed. Chloe.

Beca found herself smoothing her thumb over the tattoo thoughtfully, staring over at the pull out bed they’d had to share since moving here all those years ago. Chloe was out this evening on a date. A third date no less. With a guy she’d managed to meet on a dating app a few weeks ago.

Chloe had gone on this date with one intention and one intention only - to get a kiss. The first kiss with this guy who, much to Chloe’s frustration, hadn’t picked up on any of her flirting cues during their previous dates apparently.

Slipping her Beats from around her neck, Beca decided now would be a good time to make a cup of hot cocoa before resigning herself to bed. It was no use waiting up for her best friend - Chloe was often out on a date until 10pm, sometimes even later than that, and Beca didn’t really want to have to sit around and hear how well this kiss had finally been and how it had been well worth the wait.

It wasn’t like she was jealous. She wasn’t. Totally wasn’t. Sure, she and Jesse had broken up a year ago. Sure, she hadn’t dated anyone since then. Sure, she’d started developing feelings for Chloe recently. But that didn’t mean she was jealous that someone out there might be kissing Chloe right this very sec—

—“What the hell is wrong with me?”

Beca almost fell out of her seat as the apartment door suddenly opened and Chloe burst into the room with a huff. A huff that Beca recognised. Clearly Chloe’s date hadn’t gone to plan.

“Um…” Beca began, knowing full well the question had been rhetorical. She watched as the redhead slammed the door closed behind her and proceeded to tug her hat, scarf and gloves off.

“I mean I couldn’t have given him any more opportunities.” Chloe grumbled, lobbing her winter accessories onto the chair by the door, before reaching her fingers for the buttons of her ‘winter date coat’.

“We were even stood under mistletoe at one point!”

Beca scrunched her face up, “Mistletoe? But it’s February!”

“I know! Valentines Day to be exact!” Chloe lobbed her coat angrily in the direction of the chair, missing it completely, “Even fate was on our side, and he still didn’t kiss me!”

The redhead stormed over to the fridge, tugging it open to stare at its contents. Beca watched her cautiously. Interacting with Chloe when she was in this sort of mood was always risky. It was hard to know if it was better to remain quiet and let her say everything, to meet her in the middle and be equally angry for her, or to grab her by the shoulders and tell her to snap out of it. All three interactions Beca had tried in the past. She was yet to be successful.

“Why are you so desperate for him to kiss you?” Beca found herself asking and she took a sharp intake of breath through her teeth. That was a really risky question, and she awaited the inevitable snap-back. But it didn’t come.

Instead Chloe’s shoulders dropped while she turned from the fridge, a bottle of water in her hand, “Because I’ve not been kissed in so long and I love being kissed, you know?”

Beca didn’t know. She didn’t know that feeling. And she hadn’t ever connected Chloe with wanting that either. Which was why she now sat with her brow lightly furrowed.

“Just…” Chloe let out a sigh while she leant back against the kitchen counter, and as she spoke quickly she became more flustered, her hands moving somewhat erratically, “…your face being cradled, the warmth you feel rushing through your body, your lips pressed against someone else’s, your eyes closed while the rest of your senses play catchup, and the sense of feeling complete because someone cares enough about you that they just want to kiss—”

Beca had had enough, the tears that had sprung into Chloe’s eyes being all the required motivation for her to roll her own eyes. So she’d launched suddenly from her chair, had cupped Chloe’s face, and had placed a long firm kiss on her lips.

To Beca’s surprise she didn’t hate the feel of this kiss. She didn’t feel weirded out or anxious. In fact, Chloe was right when she’d said the part about feeling complete. And it was probably thanks to the way Chloe was kissing her back. Or the way Chloe’s arms had wrapped round her waist.

“What was that for?” Chloe managed to choke out as Beca took a whole step back to clear her throat once their kiss had ended. Beca shrugged.

“You said you love being kissed.”

A coy smile slowly crept onto Chloe’s face. A smile that was gradually mirrored by Beca.

“I do love being kissed.”

“Well there you go then.” Beca replied, followed by a purse-lipped smile. The two best friends fell silent, the kissed they’d just shared echoing on their lips. Beca slowly made her way back to the tiny kitchen table she’d been sat at, feeling a blush scale its way from her chest, up her neck, and up and over towards her cheeks.

That had been a bold move, especially for Beca, even though it hadn’t been ‘a move’ at all. Only when she’d started looking down at her laptop, her palms resting flat against the surface of the table while she stood, did she notice the water bottle Chloe had been holding now laying on the floor by her feet. It had clearly been dropped at some point during Beca’s sudden surging move. Dropped and rolled over to the table instead.

Beca reached down to collect it and, upon turning on the spot to hand it to her best friend, she noticed the redhead hadn’t moved at all. Instead Chloe remained in a similar position that she’d been in before, once Beca had broken the kiss.

“You ok there, Chlo?” Beca asked with a smirk. She’d never seen Chloe come down from a flappy-stressy moment this quickly before. It was at this moment, as she held the bottle out to the woman, that she noticed Chloe had been anxiously twirling the rings on fingers. Perhaps Chloe hadn’t settled as quickly as she’d first thought.

“I’d like another kiss.”

Forget the ‘bold move’ Beca had produced a short while ago, those four words had been bold too. Arguably bolder to some. And it had Beca chuckling slightly, that blush returning to her cheeks.

“From me? Or shall I stick my head out of the door and see if old batty Morag from two doors down is available?”

She was joking. Of course she was. Joking about their crazed neighbour who so often stalked the corridors of the apartment block in the middle of the night, a bowl of cat food in one hand and a little ‘tinkle bell’ in the other, claiming to have lost her cat. Fortunately Chloe had sensed the joke, and her shoulders noticeably relaxed as she let out a chuckle of her own.

“I’d really rather it was you.”

“Are you sure?” Beca teased, a broad smile on her face, “Because I bet the hairs on her chin are a delight.”

The apartment filled with the sound of Chloe’s laughter, and Beca’s heart soared at the sound of it. So full and delightful. She hadn’t heard Chloe laugh this way in such a long time. And she could’ve put it down to her teasing sentence, but it may have had something to do with the kiss they’d shared a few moments ago.

Suddenly Chloe snorted, her laughter having become so full, and it had Beca bursting into laughter herself.

“Did you just snort?!??”

“Stoppppp!” Chloe replied, bringing a hand to her face as she tried to muffle her giggles, but Beca was enjoying this too much.

“Well there’s no way Morag will want to kiss you now.”

“Eww! Stop iiiiiit!” Chloe whined, grinning and reaching out to swipe at Beca’s arm with the back of her hand, causing a cackle to erupt from the back of Beca’s throat.

“Alright, alright.” Beca conceded, rocking on the heels of her feet playfully. This was fun. They never had fun like this anymore.

Life seemed so serious and hard work. The monotony of routine, and bills, and keeping themselves both mentally and physically healthy, while trying to keep in contact with their respective family and friends who wanted to know how they were doing. It was nice to have this moment to almost strip themselves back and revisit the core foundations of their friendship. The playful side of it.

“Good job I’m willing to kiss you again, huh?” Beca mused, their laughter having subsided, both now standing with soft smiles on their faces.

As far as Beca was aware, neither of them had ever really considered the other in a romantic capacity. For as long as she’d known Chloe, she’d been aware of a connection they shared. A connection she couldn’t even describe. Over the years, knowing Chloe and spending time with Chloe meant she felt naturally paired up with her. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like somehow being with Chloe made her feel complete. But that didn’t mean they needed to pursue a romantic relationship.

Unbeknownst to Beca, Chloe had absolutely considered a future whereby the two of them had entered a romantic relationship. Many different futures. And in each of them they’d been blissfully happy and in love. Because Chloe was also aware of the connection they had. Of how complete they made each other feel.

“So come on then.” Beca eventually said with an amused expression, her arms held aloft at hip height, awaiting Chloe’s body to inevitably come crashing against her.

“Wait, me??” Chloe looked both confused and amused.

“Well yeah, you’re the one wanting to kiss?” Beca tried not to roll her eyes.

“But you’re the one offering to kiss!” Chloe’s giggle bounced with each word she spoke, and it caused a chuckle to surge from Beca’s throat.

“Jeeze, let’s just agree to disagree and kiss, okay?”

“Fine.” Chloe replied, rolling her eyes with a grin, making her way towards Beca who appeared to be all too happy to receive her.

Hands and arms smoothing to rest comfortably around one another’s waists, the two best friends didn’t hesitate, allowing their lips to interlock once more. This time with a softer pressure, eyes closed with gentle smiles on their face’s.

They remained that way for several moments, with nothing more than the sounds of the clanging water pipes and the neighbours above, below and either side of their tiny apartment, along with the ever present hum from the traffic outside. Occasionally their kiss would break with a gentle click, only to allow themselves to change the angle of their faces, before their kiss resumed once more.

And it would’ve remained that way…if it hadn’t been for their other roommate.

“Thanks for keeping the door unlocked guys, I—”

Fat Amy’s sentence came to an abrupt stop. Beca and Chloe immediately ended their kiss with a sudden snap of their lips, and sharply brought their attention to their Australian roommate. All it took was the sight of Fat Amy’s beaming grin beyond her stunned expression to cause Beca to roll her eyes.

“Amyyyyy…” she warned as she peeled her arms from around Chloe’s waist. She didn’t compute the way Chloe cleared her throat, nor did she acknowledge the way the redhead had taken a step backwards to create some distance between them. If they knew their roommate well enough, then Fat Amy was going to blow all of this out of proportion.

“If you tell me that what I just saw wasn’t what I just saw, and that what I just saw - which apparently isn’t what I just saw - isn’t anything serious, then I honestly don’t know-”

Beca had already pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyelids squeezed tight as Amy rambled emphatically. She knew exactly where this was going to lead if she didn’t shut it down fast. Amy would assume that she and Chloe had been sneaking around behind her back, possibly for years, and would immediately notify The Bellas. Which would lead to more awkward conversations that Beca didn’t have the mental or physical capacity to address.

“-Amy it’s nothing!”

The last thing Beca expected was for Chloe to pipe-up. And she didn’t know why the denial made her feel a little sick. She didn’t know why it made her feel as though the rug beneath her feet had suddenly been whipped away.

“What?” Amy sounded wounded, which was what brought Beca to open her eyes again. Sure enough, Amy’s expression matched her tone, “But…”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Amy.” Beca explained, motioning almost casually in Chloe’s direction, “Chloe wanted to be kissed on Valentines Day, so-”

“-Oh!” Amy’s eyes widened, as though suddenly every answer to every question she’d ever had been revealed. “Right!”

Beca watched in horror as her blonde roommate strode over to Chloe, quickly cupped her cheeks, and kissed her firmly on the lips. Chloe looked equally stunned, the woman’s eyes wide in shock, her arms outstretched by her sides.

There was a weird knot in Beca’s stomach that suddenly tightened at the sight of Chloe being kissed by Amy. A knot she couldn’t quite explain. Was she…jealous? After all, she had no reason to be. Chloe wasn’t her girlfriend. Chloe wasn’t hers romantically. And Fat Amy was just doing exactly what Chloe had asked of Beca only a few moments ago.

But Beca found herself glaring a little at Amy as the kiss came to an abrupt end, the Australian patting Chloe on the head like a dog before muttering proudly “You’re welcome!” then heading over to her side of the studio apartment. Chloe, meanwhile, had cheeks flushed completely red as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

“Well that was unexpected.” Beca heard Chloe mumble, the woman beginning to remove the lid of the water bottle as she cleared her throat. Beca was rooted to the spot, watching Chloe closely while her best friend took a long swig of water. And that knot of jealousy remained, bubbling beneath Beca’s conscious mind. Why hadn’t Chloe sounded more grossed-out??

“You ok there, Shortstack?”

Beca snapped her attention over to the other bed to find Fat Amy grinning at her.

“Not feeling jealous are we?” Amy teased, and Beca found her fists balling by her sides, her jaw locking while she found a reasonable set of words to respond with.

“Chloe wanted to be kissed, and she’s been kissed twice so…” Beca managed to muster. She shrugged, attempting to feign nonchalance, while her brain was screaming at how unfair this situation now felt.

Day 2 - Desperate

“Oh my god even Beca Mitchell has a Valentines card! Somebody must be desperate!”

Aubrey’s voice echoed around the school corridor, followed by a wild cackle that carried its way down to the locker that Beca was stood at. The brunette grunted, stuffing the card firmly into her bag. God this school was the worst. And all because of her classmate, Aubrey Posen, who seemed to make it a mission to make Beca’s life a living hell.

Beca’d foolishly thought that by moving to this school a year ago she might’ve had a chance to start fresh. To perhaps be a little more popular than she had been at her last school. Which was why she’d begged her big brother to take her to/from school on his motorbike. To give her a cool reputation. The plan had backfired spectacularly and within the first few hours of her first day, Aubrey had managed to convince every kid in this middle school that biker families were sweaty, smelly thugs who shouldn’t be treated kindly.

Beca was so busy trying to keep her head down as she headed away from her locker to her next class that she failed to notice one of Aubrey’s close friends suggesting that she tone-down her bullying, especially as it was Valentines Day - a day of love…

Day 1 - Public

Chloe was on a mission, walking with purpose, her hands clenched by her sides as she approached the door ahead of her. Her heart was racing, and as the seconds ticked on she could feel herself getting angrier and angrier.

Pushing into the room, she allowed the soundproof door to slot closed behind her while her fists remained balled. Meanwhile, her eyes honed in on the figure before her snapping their attention suddenly from the mixing desk they were sat at to look at her. Beca.

“What the hell is your problem??” Chloe snapped, tears already welling up in her eyes. She hated that her natural response to being angry and frustrated was to cry.

December weather in New York didn’t get any easier for Florida-born Chloe Beale, no matter how many years she attempted to embrace it. Which, as it happened, was now year three. Three years of freezing, often snowy conditions, that meant the redhead was layered up 24/7 just to keep herself going.

The woman held her phone to her ear just as she stepped into her apartment block, a smile on her face as she felt the warmth spread across her skin.

“Hey Aubrey!” she released a breath, heading for the stairwell, tugging her scarf loose to keep her from getting too hot on the ascent up seven floors to her apartment.

“Hey Chloe, how are things?”

Chloe could hear some rifling in the background of Aubrey’s side of the call, and it didn’t take much for her to imagine that not only was Aubrey probably at work but that she was probably in her office arranging something.

“All good here thanks.” Chloe replied, taking each stair one by one. After three years she didn’t get out of breath much getting up to her apartment anymore. Which was helpful if at the same time she was talking on the phone to someone. “How are things with you?”

“Oh the usual.” came Aubrey’s response, the woman sounding distracted as Chloe heard her remove a pen lid with her teeth. She could picture it too. For all of Aubrey’s manners and need to hold herself to the highest standard, she still pulled a pen lid from the pen with her teeth. Especially if her hands were full.

“Same here. Nothing new.”

“Nothing new? So Beca’s still acting weird then, huh?”

Have a spectacular day and enjoy this little bit of Beca/Kommissar from the perspective of Chloe 👀 (because I saw you were a bit of a Bechloe shipper too)

Becommissar - The One

It all felt a little bit sudden - at least to Chloe it did - and as she actively avoided looking at Beca from across the kitchen while nursing a mug of hot glüwein, she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. Because she’d missed her chance. She knew she had.

The room was a hive of activity of course, it always was at The Bellas’ annual Christmas get-together. Flo and Cynthia-Rose in charge of food; Lily stood quietly between Jessica & Ashley, helping them arrange the dining table, Aubrey in charge of topics of conversation while Stacie and Emily set up impending board games across the other side of the room; Fat Amy with her head in her phone texting her latest bit on the side with a smirk while occasionally chipping into the conversation.

Chloe had decided this year to take charge of stirring the mulled wine, which this year was labelled ‘Glüwein’ in honour of this year’s special guest. The elephant in the room. The only person who stood out of the group, not least of all because of her height. Kommissar. Kommissar who was stood very close to Beca, their sides pressed casually against one another, as if for support.

Chloe should’ve spotted the signs sooner. She had spotted the signs sooner. Or at least…she’d noticed something had changed in Beca. Like she somehow seemed lighter, and happier. Which was what almost cut Chloe the deepest. Because for the longest of times she’d always thought she was the one who made Beca like that. That she would be the one who would make Beca like that forever.

Thanks for being an absolute legend and organising this year’s Pitchmas exchange. And as a thanks, I had to write you something. Though all you said to me was that if someone gifted you something in this gift exchange, you’d be happy with anything, so here we go!

Bechloe - Anything

The studio apartment was freezing, which was normal for this time of year, even with the hot water pipes clanking through the apartment block as they expanded from their heat. Cars rumbled outside as usual, even though it was 7am on Christmas morning, the thin and only window of the apartment being no match to the sounds of the vehicles’ noisy exhausts and horns.

Beca woke slowly, taking a deep intake of breath through her nose and folding her arms across her stomach beneath the heavy blanket. She didn’t usually feel this cold in bed.

A light clinking noise could be heard from the kitchen area of the studio apartment and it caused Beca to fling her eyes open. Sitting up suddenly, she didn’t register the cool conditions that lay outside the cocoon of her bedding. Instead her eyes clasped on the sight of her roommate - her best friend - dressed in a very fluffy Santa’s Elf onesie with the fluffiest of Christmas boots. Chloe hated the cold.

“What’re you doing??” Beca whined, making no attempt to leave the warm bed. She noted, thanks to the only light in the apartment coming from the fridge that Chloe had just opened, that an amused smile had spread across the redhead’s face.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” came the woman’s playful reply, a slight croak to her voice thanks to last week’s three-day flu that she had almost completely recovered from. Beca had to admit, it made Chloe’s voice sound extra sexy.