#no real reason for the name. no sorry that's a lie i put together bella and edward because i think it's funny. he's not even the werewolf

[zenixromeave]

my dumb ass forgot to say what belled even is (it's the name of the southeastern? wolf tribe that barriers bright port. ok i guess that might've been obvious idk.)

i know these are not the best but djghdfjgk these are my biome & elevation maps of tu'la & ru'aun in my rewrite

[lets-talk-appella]

i’m nobody’s but yours

Chapter 11/25 - Beca

Summary: Beca is straight as an arrow. 100%, totally, completely straight. Except for one problem that 100%, totally, completely changes everything: Chloe Beale.

Title borrowed from Calum Scott’s “If Our Love Is Wrong.”

Word Count: 7k

Rating: M (for dark themes, homophobia, masturbation, and eventual smut in later chapters)

AO3, FFN, and below.

In retrospect, going to her first gay bar on the day gay marriage was legalized in all fifty states was perhaps not Beca’s brightest idea. She really should have guessed how crowded it would be. Then again, the others had made it sound like it would be a lot of fun, and she had wanted to experience something new as part of her “becoming comfortable with herself and her own sexuality” thing.

Overall, it hadn’t been terrible, not by any means. It had been actually pretty cool to see all the people in the bar. The people who, presumably, are something other than straight. In other words, people with whom she had something in common. To see them all there, celebrating together the marriage equality law (and free alcohol) had been one of her best experiences so far as a recently out person.

The music, though, left a lot to be desired. Who the hell thinks ABBA is acceptable dance music? If she ever goes back to the bar, she fully intends to bully the DJ into using one of her mixes to show these people what real music sounds like.

Not that she’s really planning on going back. It had been one thing to be surrounded by people she identifies with in some way, but it was an entirely different experience to be hit on by three different girls in less than half an hour.

It hadn’t been bad – it had pretty flattering, actually – but it was a lot. She’s not exactly sure when the idea had occurred to her, but somewhere amid conversation with the very first blonde – Brianna? Becky? – she’d decided to use Chloe as a scapegoat.

“Oh, sorry, it was nice to meet you, but I’m actually here with my girlfriend,” she’d said, pointing surreptitiously over to where Chloe had been dancing with Stacie.

She’d used the same line on the second blonde, whose name she doesn’t think she ever caught, and then again with the red-haired girl. It had felt a little weird to lie about being in a relationship with Chloe, though they’ve done it countless times before at bars whenever a weird guy would hit on one of them.

(Why Beca didn’t just tell those guys she was dating Jesse, she doesn’t know.)

It wasn’t until the redhead kept pushing, even giving her her number and leaning in to whisper in her ear, that Beca realized that the lie she was telling all these girls had started to feel a little too comfortable.

She knows why. She’d be an idiot not to. It’s because Chloe is the only person she can ever see herself being with. Not just the only girl, but the only person. The distinction suddenly seems very important.

She’d been trying to get rid of her feelings for Chloe since she first realized them at the retreat. It hadn’t even come close to working, so she gave up on that strategy days ago. She’s not sure if it’s because feelings don’t work like that, or because she’s felt that way toward Chloe for much, much longer than just the retreat. A part of her wonders if it’s been even since the Activities Fair.

“Excuse me,” Beca had cut off the redhead mid-lean, easing past her to get to Chloe, who’d been talking to Flo.

She got Chloe’s attention, and a few moments later, to Beca’s intense relief, they’d headed toward the exit. Some blonde glared at them on the way out, and it took Beca a second to realize she was one of the ones who’d hit on her earlier. Brittney? Beth? Whatever.

A second later, they were outside and around the side of the building. Beca had been relieved the Bellas didn’t follow right away; she’d needed some space and didn’t want an audience for what she’d known she had to do.

Which is what she struggles with now, leaning against the side of the building with her eyes closed. She knows what she wants to do. It’s just finding the courage to do it that’s the hard part.

“You okay?”

Beca reopens her eyes, finding Chloe’s. “Yeah, just… it was kind of a lot.”

“You mentioned,” Chloe smiles, and instantly it makes Beca feel better.

Chloe has that effect on her. Has always had that effect.

Something is scratching at her chest. Oh, yeah, the paper with that girl’s number. God. Who even does that? Just slides a number under someone’s bra like that. It’s gross.

Beca fishes it out and looks at it for second, thinking about what the girl had said to her after she’d put the number in her shirt. If that girlfriend of yours stops making you happy, give me a call.

Beca crumples the scrap and throws it in the garbage; she’ll never need it.

Chloe will never stop making her happy.

Nerves churn Beca’s stomach and her mouth goes dry. If Chloe doesn’t feel the same way, this is going to complicate things between them. The nerves in her stomach change to nausea, and she wonders if perhaps she should lean over the garbage can; it’s there for a reason.

She almost changes her mind. She almost doesn’t do it.

But when she looks up and sees Chloe watching her so carefully, it settles something deep within her. If she doesn’t ask now, she never will. And that’s intolerable.

“Chloe? Will you go out with me, please?”

It’s the scariest thing she’s ever done. Way, way worse than coming out. A million times worse. It maybe shouldn’t be, but it is.

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Beca freezes, waiting for Chloe to do something. Anything.

Chloe seems just as frozen as Beca feels, her eyes wide and lips parted.

Oh, god. She’d been wrong to ask. It wasn’t what Chloe wanted, and now she’s going to reject Beca and everything is ruined between them forever. She has to fix this, now.

Beca’s brain stutters and stalls, until she chokes out “Shit, I –”

“Did you say what I think you said?” Chloe cuts her off. Her tone gives nothing away.

Beca has half a mind to laugh it off and claim she’d said something else. For a wild second, she thinks it might actually work, but knows that she can’t do that. Chloe knows what she’s said, and besides, she’d regret it later.

“I… asked you out?”

Chloe nods at her slowly, biting her lower lip. Her fingers tap at her thighs, a nervous habit Beca doubts she even knows she has. Beca isn’t sure what the nod means.

“Will you go out with me?” Beca asks again, her heart about a second away from throwing itself from her throat.

Chloe looks down at the litter-covered pavement. She inhales slowly.

“Chloe? What –”

“No.”

The ground lurches from under Beca’s feet.

“No?” a stranger with her voice croaks out.

“No,” Chloe repeats. “I won’t go out with you.”

Beca can’t get enough air. The world swims dangerously.

Chloe won’t stop looking at the ground.

“You… I… why?” Beca knows it’s childish to ask. She should say, “Okay,” and move on like an adult, but she can’t.

“Beca, I…” Chloe tells the concrete, “there’s just –”

“Look at me!” Beca interrupts, anger flaring through her unexpectedly.

Chloe flinches at the volume and tone. It sends a pang through Beca’s chest and she softens.

“At least look at me,” she pleads, more gently. “Please.”

Chloe hesitates, but raises her eyes. Beca inhales sharply and takes a step back automatically; Chloe looks at her with so much pain that Beca feels it in her own chest, burning away the air in her lungs.

“Chlo…” she manages, utterly at a loss.

“I can’t go out with you,” Chloe whispers, her eyes watering and chin trembling. She tilts her face to the sky, as if trying to keep the tears from falling. “It’s not fair,” her voice cracks.

“What? Why not?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t –”

Chloe turns away. Instantly, Beca reaches and grabs her arm, stopping her.

“No way,” she says through gritted teeth. “Running is my thing. Chloe, talk to me. Please,” she adds when Chloe doesn’t turn. “If it’s – if you’re not attracted to me, or you don’t like me like that, then it’s – it’s fine, but talk to me.”

Chloe flinches again, her arm twitching in Beca’s grip, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Please,” Beca whispers. “Don’t run. Please.”

Five seconds pass. Then ten. Fifteen.

“Chl –”

“I like you too much,” Chloe says without turning around.

And it floors Beca, absolutely stops her heart in her chest because Chloe just said those words, Chloe said she likes her, and yet Chloe’s still not even looking at her and she’d said no and –

“And all this – wanting to date girls – it’s so new for you. I’m worried… I’m scared it’s too early. I’m scared I’m not what you…” Chloe trails off, then turns to face Beca, breaking the grip on her arm. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wide and scared. “I’ve seen this happen before, Bec. Where friends get so caught up that they’re both gay, or – or whatever… they date on a whim, and it blows up and they never speak again. I can’t do that if that’s what this is. I like you too much,” she finishes, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Beca stares, shaken, unable to comprehend the words coming from Chloe’s mouth.

Chloe smiles at her sadly and starts to turn away again, and it snaps Beca’s brain back into focus.

“That’s – no, that’s – I really like you too!” she blurts out.

Chloe pauses. “Beca, it’s –”

“No! Listen!” Beca urges, her hands lacing behind her neck. “It’s not like that! I’ve liked you for – for a long time. Since the beginning, maybe, I just… I was stupid, and scared, and I didn’t think it was ever an option for me!”

She’s rambling now, but this seems like her one chance to maybe be with Chloe, and there’s no way she’s giving up without a fight.

“Look, do you know how I figured out – all this about myself?” she asks.

Chloe hesitates, then shakes her head slowly. “Kommissar?” she shrugs.

Beca’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Her? No!” Beca insists. “She made me question, maybe, but it was because of you! It was all you, Chlo.” Chloe’s mouth pops open in surprise, but Beca keeps going. “I was just – I didn’t know what to do with that! I’ve always lo – liked you so, so much. This isn’t some fling, it’s – Chloe, I’ve liked you for years, and I want to date you,” Beca finishes loudly, breathing hard.

Chloe stares at her, stunned. After a moment, she blinks. “Are you – really?” she asks, sounding amazed.

“Yes!” Beca half-yells back. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but please don’t. I know what I want, and I want to be with you.”

Chloe’s shaking her head before she’s even finished her sentence. Beca’s heart sinks, and she’s positive Chloe’s going to reject her. Her eyes sting preemptively, and Chloe’s opening her mouth and Beca steels herself, ready for the worst.

“Beca… do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to go out with you?”

“No, I – what?”

Chloe laughs shakily. “I’ve always liked you too. From the beginning.”

“Oh, that’s –”

“Shush,” Chloe cuts her off, but with a smile to soften it. “How could you ever think I’m not attracted to you, when being with you is all I’ve been thinking about since – since you came out. I really, really like you too, and that…” Chloe shrugs. “Yes. I want to go out with you.”

Beca feels into a smile so wide she feels her face might actually crack from the strain. Chloe mirrors it, and in that moment, Beca is so happy she doesn’t know what to say beyond, “Cool.”

Chloe just smiles even more widely. “Very cool,” she says, and then looks down, her fingers again tapping at her thighs. “And, listen, for earlier… I didn’t want to say no, it actually kind of killed me, I just thought – well, this is new for you and for us and I didn’t want to take advantage and –”

“It’s okay,” Beca cuts her off quickly. “Really. I understand. You were trying to protect me,” she shrugs.

“Yeah,” Chloe breathes, looking relieved. “Maybe it’s dumb, but I wanted to make sure,” she shrugs apologetically.

Beca nods, understanding. “It’s okay,” she repeats.

Chloe shifts her weight. “And... that girl? With the red hair? It’s none of my business, but did you two...” she trials off, gesturing in the air.

“Oh!” Beca laughs in surprise; she’d forgotten all about the girl. “No, nothing happened. She gave me her number and, uh, said to call her,” she replies.

Chloe nods, looking relieved. “Sorry, I just…”

“It’s chill,” Beca says, rubbing the back of her neck. “Um. So, date?”

“Yeah!” Chloe enthuses, actually bouncing up on her tiptoes a little. “When did you have in mind?”

Beca makes a show of checking the time on her phone, excitement kindling in her chest. “Well,” she hedges, “it’s only like 1:30. Maybe… tonight?”

“Oh, totes,” Chloe nods, her eyes bright. “I didn’t want to wait, either.”

Beca smiles hugely, happiness filling her chest like a balloon. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 7?” she jokes with a wink.

“Awes,” Chloe beams back.

Beca isn’t sure what to do then – do they hug? shake hands? – but is saved by the loud scuffling and mingled swearing that announces the presence of the rest of the Bellas, having left the bar.

“Ouch, shit! Oh, there’s Bhloe,” Amy says when she spots them. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Yeah,” Flo says loudly. “What –”

She cuts herself off, stopping dead to stare at them. They all stare, actually – Stacie, Amy, Jessica, Ashley, Flo, and Cynthia Rose. Stacie’s mouth hangs open. It’s more than a little unnerving.

“What?” Beca asks, paranoid. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, but you guys look… different,” Stacie says, her words slurring slightly.

The scrutiny sends Beca into a sudden panic; she doesn’t want the others to know about her and Chloe yet. It’s too soon to tell anyone anything. Besides, what if they think it’s weird or what if she and Chloe go on the one singular date and it ends horribly and the Bellas feel like they have to pick a side? Beca opens her mouth to come up with some excuse, but Chloe cuts her off.

“It’s nothing,” Chloe assures them calmly. “You’re all just drunk.”

“Well, we had to cash in those free drinks,” Stacie insists, “whether you two wanted to leave or not.”

“Right! Wasn’t this a great idea?!” Cynthia Rose adds. She is very enthusiastically drunk.

“Uh huh,” Beca deadpans. “I guess I’m driving us home.”

“I’m fine!” Ashley insists, stepping forward and tripping on the flat sidewalk.

Chloe catches her, holding her upright. “Yep, you’re driving,” she says to Beca.

“Right,” Beca grumbles, grabbing the keys from Ashley’s pocket.

It’s not all bad, though; as they make their way as a group to Ashley’s minivan, Beca catches Chloe’s eye and they share a quick, secret smile.

***************

“I’m not graduating.”

Beca stares at Chloe in shock. “Again?” slips out before she can stop it.

Chloe’s expression shifts, becoming guarded, and Beca immediately backtracks.

“No, I mean… I thought you felt really good about graduating this year,” she says, not wanting to offend her best friend.

Chloe half-shrugs, her expression back to normal. “Yeah, but I decided to stay. Your junior year will be a hard one, and I don’t want you to have to captain the Bellas alone.”

“Chlo…” Beca sighs, “that’s really nice of you, and I appreciate it, but don’t you want to –”

“No,” Chloe cuts her off. “I want to stay with y – the Bellas. You guys are my family.”

Beca never could resist Chloe’s pout.

(Besides, she’s happier than she cares to admit at the thought of a third year with Chloe at her side.)

She nods eventually and grins at her co-captain. “So, is it too early to start thinking about next year’s set?”

Chloe beams back, her eyes filled with something Beca can’t quite identify.

“No. Not too early at all.”

***************

As soon as they walk through the front door of the Bella house, Amy shouts, “The party starts now, aca-bitches!”

Seconds later, everyone has congregated in the kitchen to watch Amy rifle through their extensive liquor cabinet.

“Welcome back!” Emily squeals as soon as she sees Beca. “How was it?”

“It was different!” Beca replies, fighting to maintain a poker face while Chloe winks at her from behind Emily. “Very... unexpected.”

“Really?” Stacie snorts, holding a bottle of raspberry vodka. “You mean you weren’t expecting to have about a million girls throw themselves at you?”

“What?” Emily gasps so loudly it makes Beca flinch. “Spill!”

“Uh, actually, I have to go shopping,” Beca says, her face warming.

Emily looks disappointed, but before she can comment, Amy barrels between them, a bottle of what might be Everclear clutched in her hand.

“What?” Amy stares at Beca. “You can’t miss the party,” she protests.

“Sorry, Amy, but I really do need to go shopping.”

It’s true; if she’s going to pull off her plan for a first date with Chloe, she needs to hit the grocery store.

“Why?” Amy squints at her. “You gotta get ice cream for Chloe again?”

At the sound of her name, Chloe glances up from where she’s trying to keep Lilly from setting fire to whatever alcohol is in her shot glass.

“Uh, yeah, that’s – yep,” Beca rolls with it, figuring it’s the easiest way out.

Amy grins and makes an obnoxiously loud whip-cracking sound; it’s all Beca can do to keep from strangling her.

“Amy, can you help Flo with the Jungle Juice?” Chloe calls. “She might need help.”

At that, Flo looks up, irritated, and mutters something in Spanish; still, she allows Amy to wander over and assist with organizing the growing pile of alcohol and fruit on the counter.

Beca flashes Chloe a grateful smile, mouthing silently, “Pick you up at 7!”

Chloe merely grins back and nods, then makes a shooing motion with her hand. Beca spins on the spot, heading out the front door. She still has Ashley’s keys, so she hops in the driver’s seat of her minivan and starts it, already composing a mental list of what she needs to buy. She backs out of the driveway carefully, her entire body lighting up with excitement at the thought of the date.

She’s known for weeks what a first date with Chloe Beale would look like, should she be the one to plan it. She knows Chloe loves picnics, so a quiet picnic in a corner of the park in town sounds absolutely perfect for a first date. It’ll give them room to talk and hang out with minimal risk of the Bellas interrupting or anyone else seeing them.

Maybe it’s silly, but she doesn’t want other people to see them. She may be becoming increasingly comfortable with her own sexuality, but that doesn’t mean she needs to broadcast it to the rest of the world. Marriage equality passing or not, Beca hasn’t forgotten that the vote was alarmingly close. Thinking back to what Cynthia Rose had said about slurs she and her fiancée have been called, Beca doesn’t really feel a need to put herself or Chloe at more risk than necessary. Maybe it shouldn’t bother her – maybe she shouldn’t care so much about what other people think – but she does care, and it does bother her.

So, at least for now, Beca is okay keeping their dates relatively private. Eventually, she wants to take Chloe to the movies or to a restaurant or out dancing; Chloe deserves that. It’s just. That’ll come later.

Later.

Which implies a passage of time. Beca swallows hard, pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store.

It’s the end of June. Their lease ends on August 15th.

Less than two months away.

Beca parks the car and turns it off, noting the slight tremor in her hands. Two months is nothing.

She’s already applied for two music production jobs with positions starting in September: one in New Orleans and one in Tallahassee. She plans on applying for several more across the country.

And Chloe? Chloe’s got to be applying for teaching jobs, right? Does she have to go get more schooling for that? Beca’s stunned to realize she doesn’t even know what Chloe’s doing after the summer. She hasn’t asked; since the retreat, she’s been so inwardly focused that it had slipped her mind.

God. What will happen when they all move away? She’s not sure she can handle a long-distance relationship with Chloe – the need to be close to her now is almost overwhelming. But then what? Do they just… end?

The thought sends fear shooting down Beca’s spine like ice. If they go their separate ways after August, then there’s no point for this date now. There’s no point in getting to know Chloe like that if it’s just going to end with them ripped apart from each other.

Or.

On the other hand, dating in general might go so horribly that they break up, and then when they move, they never see each other again.

Beca’s breathing turns erratic.

Imagined scenarios flash in Beca’s mind, one after the other like a twisted movie reel of misery, images of her and Chloe fighting, screaming at each other, utterly ruining their relationship and friendship. Then she sees worse images of them getting closer and closer, only to be ripped apart by the distance in the end.

What’s the point, then?

Before Beca fully registers what she’s doing, she’s gasping for air, fumbling for her bag and extracting her phone. She taps on the first name she thinks of, without considering it hasn’t been long enough yet or how it’s utterly unfair for her to do so; all she can think about is what it would feel like to lose Chloe, and how the massive hole that would form in her chest at the loss would never heal.

“Hello?”

She almost cries in relief at the sound of Jesse’s voice, far away in LA.

“Beca?” he asks when she doesn’t answer right away. “Everything okay?”

“No, it’s not, I –”

She cuts off at the realization of what she’s about to say, and at how selfish it had been to call him.

“What?” he asks, concerned now.

“I – I asked Chloe out on a date,” Beca says in a rush, squeezing her eyes closed in anticipation of his anger.

A deafening silence fills the line. She nibbles at her lower lip, waiting, wanting him to be able to talk first.

“When did that happen?” he asks eventually, his voice careful and controlled.

“Today. Like. An hour ago.”

“Was it… did the news have anything to do with that? Congrats, by the way. It’s about time.”

She re-opens her eyes in surprise. He’d never been one to pay attention to the news, and they’d never really discussed the marriage equality issue before.

“What did she say?” Jesse asks, bringing her back to the present.

“She – she said yes,” says Beca, hearing the thinly veiled excitement in her own voice and wincing.

Again, silence. Outside in the parking lot, an older man gives her a strange look as he returns his cart at the collection stall across from her parked car.

“Jess?”

“I… good for you, Beca,” he says, and she’s relieved at just how normal he sounds. “I mean that. Really, I’m – I hope it goes well.”

She hesitates, then asks, “You’re not mad?”

“No. I’m not,” Jesse answers in a way that she can tell is honest. “You know, I’m surprised you took this long.”

Even from across the country, she can hear the amusement in his voice and pictures him smiling into the phone.

“So, what are you freaking out about?” he continues.

Beca sighs, running a hand through her hair and resting her forehead against the steering wheel with a soft thud. “It’s – it’s everything!” she exclaims. “What if we break up and we’re not friends anymore? Or what if we don’t, and we have to live across the country in September? I’m applying for jobs, and she is too, and we have no business starting anything like this now!” She’s breathing hard again, the reality of their situation setting in with every word.

“Woah!” Jesse interrupts, “Here’s where I’m gonna stop you, and you need to listen.”

She chokes on her words, taken aback.

“Okay, so,” Jesse says, the connection crackling a little when he sighs into the phone. “First, you can’t go into any relationship thinking about the ending. That’s just bad practice. There’s too much you can’t control here.”

She opens her mouth, ready to argue, but he must sense it because he only speaks louder.

“Second, has it occurred to you to apply for jobs in the same cities? And even if you do end up splitting, well, we broke up and we’re still friends! Plus, you never know. Dating her might be really good for you both.” He pauses, and then says, “Okay, now you can talk.”

She really wishes he could see her roll her eyes.

“I hate when you’re so logical,” she groans, sitting upright in the seat and leaning her head against the headrest.

“You called me, remember,” he teases, his voice light again.

She smiles in spite of herself. “Yeah, I was freaking out a little. It’s just... God, Jesse, why didn’t I do this sooner? I had four years and now it’s down to two months and I –”

She stops instantly, realizing what she’s just said. He doesn’t say anything, and Beca wants to kick herself.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I didn’t think.”

Jesse sighs, sounding tired. “It’s okay, Beca. We talked about this already,” he reminds her gently. “It’s okay. And it’s not too late for you two, I promise.

She cringes. He was always too nice. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes, as long as I get eternal ‘I told you so’ bragging rights.”

“Mphf. Maybe.”

That makes him laugh, and she smiles at the sound of it. She’s missed him more than she knew.

“How’s LA?” she asks, both to change the subject and also because she’s actually curious.

“You know, I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding happier than she’s heard him in a while. “I’ve had a couple people call about renting the room, so that’s good.” Then, possibly to prevent her from feeling guilty about bailing on rent with him, he adds in a rush, “Now, get off the phone with me and go get your girl!”

She glances at the clock in the car; it’s almost 3:30 already.

“Oh yeah! I – yes! Bye!” and then, because she hasn’t told him in a while, she says, “Love you, nerd.”

It’s so much easier to say it now that they both know what kind of love it is.

“Love you too, Bec. Call whenever. And congrats again!”

She hangs up with a smile on her face.

At 6:50, Beca finishes the final touches on her appearance, adding one spritz of the perfume she knows Chloe likes. She’s nervous, but more excited than anything.

The food for their picnic waits in the kitchen, ready to be loaded into Chloe’s car. Beca had bought champagne and wine, but also some regular apple juice because in the store she’d blanked on whether Chloe actually likes champagne or not. (She does – Beca remembered as soon as she’d gotten home.)

She also had prepared grapes, strawberries, some carrots, dark chocolates, and had made sandwiches for them both. She’d packed all the food into a large picnic basket she’d bought for the occasion and had borrowed the red-checkered tablecloth belonging to the Bella house at large. She’s got a playlist created on her phone, and one of her several Bluetooth speakers. She remembered the bug spray and water bottles, a flashlight just in case, an umbrella even though the skies are supposed to be clear, and a few extra blankets.

She might be overprepared.

Beca looks at the digital clock on her nightstand. 6:55. Showtime.

With a final deep breath and glance in the mirror – she’d gone with her usual skinny jeans, a gray tank, and the purple plaid shirt Chloe had once complimented her on – she steps down the stairs from her attic room to the second floor landing.

Outside Chloe’s door, Beca only hesitates long enough to try to get her heart to calm down. When it doesn’t really work, she gives up and knocks on the door. It opens almost instantly, and she has to hold back a gasp; Chloe looks amazing in the same patterned blue dress Beca had first met her in at the Activities Fair. Her hair is curled gently and her makeup is done perfectly. She steals Beca’s breath from her lungs instantly.

“You’re early,” Chloe teases with a smile.

Beca shrugs. “Yeah, sorry, I left early in case traffic was a bitch.”

It’s a lame line, but it makes Chloe laugh, and that’s all Beca really cares about. Chloe steps out into the hallway, closing her bedroom door behind her. Together, they walk down the stairs to the main floor.

“So, where are we going?” Chloe asks.

“I thought we’d have a picnic,” Beca replies, knowing she’d made the right decision by the way Chloe’s entire face lights up. “I already got the food and stuff ready, so we just have to load it.”

Chloe nods, lifting a finger to her lips to quiet Beca when they reach the ground floor so the other Bellas won’t hear them. Though it quickly becomes apparent that they don’t need to worry about that; the ground floor looks like a war zone. It’s early in the evening but considering that most of the house had started drinking at noon, Beca isn’t overly surprised to see bodies sprawled across the kitchen, sitting room, and hallway.

Almost everyone is already asleep; on the couch, Ashley cuddles a jar of peanuts, while Stacie and Jessica are slumped into each other’s sides, fast asleep. The kitchen is witness to a similar massacre, with Cynthia Rose, Amy, and Flo slumped in their chairs, leaning onto the table. Lilly lies flat on the table’s surface. She picks up her head to stare at Beca and Chloe as they walk by.

Nonplussed, Beca waves at her. Lilly lifts the index finger of her left hand, bends it twice in a sort of wave, and drops her arm back to her side.

“Oookayyy,” Beca draws out, while Chloe giggles. “I just gotta grab…”

She scoops the basket and tablecloth up into her arms, and Chloe grabs the Bluetooth speaker. Everything else is already in Chloe’s car.

They close the front door quietly behind them and shuffle over to the car.

“Guess that takes care of them,” Beca snorts, shaking her head.

“At least we didn’t have to make something up,” Chloe says, placing the speaker in the backseat next to where Beca drops the picnic basket and cloth.

Beca glances up at her. “Um, I know it’s your car,” she says, “but is it chill if I drive? I just – I know where we’re going.”

“Yep!” chirps Chloe, sliding into the passenger seat gracefully.

A second later, Beca takes her place behind the wheel, and then they’re off. The drive passes quickly; the park is only 15 minutes away from their house. Chloe turns on the radio and hums along to “Pocketful of Sunshine” as she stares out the window. The whole thing is so normal and so Chloe that it puts Beca at ease, as if this is just a normal road trip for them rather than a date.

Once at the park, they lift everything out from the back seat, and Beca leads the way to a quiet little clearing near the top of a hill. Chloe looks at her a little funny when, on the way there, Beca steers them out of their way to go wide around a larger group of people sprawled on the grass, but she doesn’t comment on that or on the secluded little spot.

Beca opens the tablecloth and settles it over the grass, then places the picnic basket in the middle while Chloe unfolds the blankets. Beca pulls out the champagne, wine, juice, and the rest of the food, and sets up her Bluetooth speaker to play her prepared For Chloe playlist.

Once it’s all set up, she takes a moment to survey everything to make sure it looks okay.

“Bec,” Chloe whispers, closer to Beca than she’d thought. “This is perfect. Thank you so, so much for this.”

“Yeah, well,” Beca rubs the back of her neck. “Don’t thank me until you’ve tried the sandwiches.”

Chloe merely smiles at her sweetly. “I’m sure they’re perfect.”

They settle down on the tablecloth, and Beca starts to load her plate. Except…

“I forgot plates,” she realizes, face warming. “And, uh, forks. And glasses. Um. Sorry,” she apologizes, feeling like a total idiot.

Chloe reaches out and places her hand on top of Beca’s. “Bec, it’s just me. It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong… with any of this.”

The way she says soothes Beca instantly and makes her think Chloe is referring to more than their lack of plates and utensils.

“Look,” Chloe says, popping open the champagne with practiced ease. Once the foam settles, she takes a sip directly from the bottle and passes it to Beca. “And everything else we can just… eat.”

Beca nods, grateful, and takes a sip of the champagne. Ugh. Maybe she’s the one who doesn’t like champagne.

They start on the sandwiches and fruit, alternating sips of champagne and the juice Beca brought; the wine lies forgotten.

“So… where are you applying to teach?” Beca asks after a few minutes. It’s easier to bring up when they’re both focused on eating.

Chloe pauses, picking at the crust of her sandwich absentmindedly. “Uh, well,” she starts, “the more I think about it, the more I’m leaning toward being a vet.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I want to apply for some animal medicine internships.”

“Dude, that’s so cool!” Beca says sincerely. “Like, really. I can totally see you doing that.”

The way Chloe smiles at her, full of surprised happiness, tells Beca she’d said the right thing. “Yeah, I’m applying a few places.”

Beca’s stomach squirms uncomfortably. “Where at, do you think?” she asks, hoping she sounds nonchalant but knowing she probably doesn’t.

“Um, New York, mainly. Their program is really good. Maybe a few others, uh, Nashville, Chicago, Santa Barbara. We’ll see.”

“Got it,” Beca says, her mind spinning.

Chloe looks at her strangely but doesn’t say anything. She finishes her sandwich, her eyes falling back to the checkered tablecloth underneath them. As Beca finishes her own food, she finds herself wishing she could read minds.

After a moment. Chloe clears her throat. “So, do you think we should mention this to the Bellas?”

Beca takes a sip of her juice, thankful for the subject change. “Well,” she says slowly, “I suppose… if we continue… we’ll have to?” she phrases it as a question, giving Chloe the option to back out.

Chloe smiles and says, “Oh, this is definitely going to continue.”

Beca grins back, happiness filling her chest. “Good. In that case, we’ll have to eventually. I just don’t want things to get…”

“Weird?” Chloe suggests when Beca trails off, and Beca nods, relieved Chloe had understood.

“I don’t think it’ll be weird,” Chloe muses. “It’s going to be like it was before, Bec, just with… more.”

At that, a pink tinge climbs up Chloe’s neck. Beca’s mouth drops open at the rare sight and the implication, even though it makes her stomach flutter nervously.

“More?! Miss Beale!” she teases in a dramatic voice. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“That depends,” Chloe purrs, leaning forward until her face is only inches from Beca’s. She glances down, then looks up through her eyelashes. “Is it working?”

Beca sputters, her brain short-circuiting. “I – you – it –”

She’s not sure if she’s fully ready for more.

Chloe winks at her playfully, pulling away. “More can be anything you want it to be,” she says. “We’ll go slow.”

Even though her tone is light, Beca knows she’s serious. Chloe’s holding back to give Beca the time she needs. It’s so thoughtful and caring that it makes Beca wonder how exactly she found such an amazing person.

A soft, golden glow ignites the air around them; Beca glances around and sees that the sun is starting to set. They have the perfect view of it from where they sit on top of the hill.

“Look,” she tells Chloe, pointing toward the horizon.

“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” Chloe sighs appreciatively, adjusting so she’s sitting at Beca’s side rather than facing her.

It’s cheesy. It’s so, so cheesy and corny and lame that it makes Beca want to die. And yet, she can’t help looking at Chloe, her face illuminated by the soft glow, the color of the sunset complementing her hair perfectly and making her eyes even brighter.

“Yeah,” Beca agrees absently, her eyes fixed on Chloe. “Gorgeous.”

The sunset is a spectacular one, pinks and golds and reds exploding across the sky in a wondrous display. Soft music still permeates the air around them, rising from the Bluetooth to cover them in a symphony of beats and overlays, created by Beca for Chloe. It’s pretty much perfect, and exactly how Beca wanted the first date to go.

She’s painfully aware of how close Chloe is sitting.

Slowly, and in a way that she hopes seems casual, Beca drops her right hand from her lap to rest on the cloth below them. Beside her, Chloe does the same with her left hand. Beca keeps her eyes locked forward onto the sunset, though she isn’t really seeing it anymore as she slowly, tentatively inches her hand further toward Chloe’s, inch by torturous inch. It helps that Chloe’s hand is doing the same.

Beca can feel it, in the instant before they touch; a warm current of electricity running between them, filling the gap between their hands with sparking energy. Then, with a final, barely-there nudge of fingers, Chloe’s pinky finger meets Beca’s, wrapping around it. Another small adjustment, and suddenly, Chloe’s hand is in hers, their fingers intertwined.

They’ve held hands before, but never like this. This makes Beca’s skin jump and twitch; this makes her whole arm feel like it’s burning, but in the best way.

This makes Beca want more.

“Do you want to lie down?” Chloe asks softly. It’s like she reads Beca’s mind.

Beca nods, and she extends her legs, scooting a little awkwardly. She doesn’t want to let go of Chloe’s hand, but she has to while they get comfortable. Chloe mimics her, until Beca sprawls on her side, facing the sunset, and Chloe’s body delicately fits itself against her back. Still, Chloe moves slowly; first, legs slide up behind Beca’s, then hips, and finally, what are unmistakably breasts press lightly into her upper back as Chloe relaxes behind her. Chloe’s arm comes to rest around her waist, her hand seeking out Beca’s, again intertwining their fingers. Beca leans back into her cautiously, making sure Chloe can still see at least most of the sunset.

They’ve hugged before, sure, and Chloe has hugged her from behind before, but never like this.

Pure, unfiltered contentment washes over Beca. It’s as close to bliss as she can remember ever feeling. The fact that simply being with Chloe like this, watching a sunset on a first date, makes her feel like this is almost overwhelming.

“What are you thinking?” Chloe whispers against her shoulder.

“I’m thinking… that if this – if what we have – is supposed to be wrong… then why does this feel so right?”

Chloe squeezes her tighter and moves somehow even closer. “That’s because it is right,” she breathes into the back of Beca’s neck, her lips just barely brushing skin.

Beca hums and lets her eyes close. She could get used to this.

They don’t talk after that, preferring to watch the sun sink slowly, dipping below the horizon until all that’s left is a sliver of gold above the dark surface of the land. Lights flick on in the distance, and Beca knows that soon, the Atlanta light pollution will take over for the sun’s work. She burrows still further backward into Chloe, finding home in the soft, warm embrace.

She wonders how many different music production jobs there are in New York, and if the sunsets there are just as nice.

[sweetnestor]

Story of Another Us | Week 2

university au, platonic af

previous chapter

I’m hanging by a thread

“How have you been?” asked my therapist, Helena. “Has anything happened since the last time we saw each other?”

I recounted the last week and a half. School starting, commuting between uni, my boyfriend’s house and my house. Trying to avoid the green man living at my house.

“And how have you been coping with it?”

Mentally shutting down.

“My boyfriend’s dog is very comforting,” I said, which wasn’t a lie at all.

Helena took notes, scribbling on her clipboard. “That’s interesting. Why do you think dogs are so comforting?”

“They don’t judge you. They still love you, even when you’re a giant mess,” I explained. “I don’t know how my boyfriend feels about having to constantly reassure me and help me through panic attacks. It must be exhausting for him. But his dog just sits with me until I feel better.”

“You know Bella, I’m sure your boyfriend loves you no matter what. The fact that he’s come to these sessions with you says that,” Helena reassured. “Why didn’t he come today, iIf I may ask?”

“Oh, he’s just working.”

“YouTube work?” Helena knew all about our jobs as YouTubers, it was partly the reason why I would see her every week.

“Yeah, he’s behind schedule,” I said.

“Oh, does that affect your relationship in any way?”

“Yeah, I mean…” I shrugged out of habit. “It’s harder to see each other or spend time together because we’re both so busy with filming and I have school and a job on the side. I mean, we do see each other because I stay with him during the week, but y’know… still busy.”

Helena kept writing on her clipboard. “So you’re both very occupied during the day, and the relationship is still happy and satisfying?”

“Of course! We always find a way.”

“Well that’s good! It’s a sign of a healthy relationship. Anything else happen this last week?”

Jack came to mind. I wasn’t sure what to say about him, but it just began to spill out.

“My boyfriend’s friend, also a YouTuber, is staying here for the semester. Like, he’s going back and forth between Mark’s house, my house, and uni, like I am. And he’s nice, he seems to mean well, but I’m a little overwhelmed,” I admitted.

“What’s this friend’s name?”

“Jack.”

“Why do you think you’re overwhelmed by Jack?”

“He’s an extrovert, he’s very talkative and loud and energetic. He’s staying in my house on weekends.” It sounded really stupid and rude when I said it out loud.

“You’ve told me that you don’t like meeting people, correct? Does Mark know that?”

“Yeah, he keeps asking if I’m okay and if Jack makes me uncomfortable.”

“He hasn’t caused you any harm or threatened you, has he?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all. He’s actually… really, really sweet.” I felt like such an asshole.

“Why do you think you feel this way? Is it because you’re introverted?”

It’s because of anxiety disorder, the thing you diagnosed me with. Stay with me, Helena.

“I don’t know, it just happens,” I said. “It happens with everyone I meet.”

“You think new situations are scary?” she guessed.

That makes me sound really childish. Granted, I wasn’t really giving her much to work with. I usually spoke more when Mark was here.

“Well, look at it as if your mind and body are protecting you. You don’t know a lot about Jack, right? So, in away, you’re bracing yourself in case he steps out of line?”

“I guess. That seems to make sense.” Do I actually feel that? Who knows? Not me!

I didn’t feel any better after the session. I was practically complaining about poor old me and my living situation. Poor me with a college education. Poor me with a nice boyfriend who lets me stay in his house.

The ache in my chest was getting harder to ignore once I was driving home. I thought talking it out was supposed to help. I thought I would have felt better after therapy. I had to pull over in a Walmart parking lot so I could pull myself together.

I rubbed my hands together, only to feel really… strange. I was extremely aware of my hands. I kept looking out the window, paranoid that I was being watched. I kept checking the gear shift to make sure I was still in park. I wanted to cry. I felt like I was losing myself, like I was going to die.

And then my breathing went short, confirming my fears. I was dying. My short twenty three years were ending.

I felt small and trapped. I felt cold, but I was sweating buckets. I was too scared to get out of the car in case anyone saw me being a complete trainwreck. I could hear myself wheezing but it didn’t feel real.

My phone buzzed, making me jump and cry even more. I grabbed it, my hands shaking and still very there and tried to speak. I only retched and coughed.

“Are you dying?” It was Jack. Of all fucking people. He sounded amused until he heard me sobbing. “Bella, are you okay?”

“Mark…” I managed to get out.

I heard some commotion on the other line. I cried some more.

“Bella? What’s wrong? Where are you?” my boyfriend sounded calm, but concerned.

“I’m d-dying…” I cried.

“Are you hurt?” he asked me.

“I-I’m… panic.. Help…”

“Okay, Bella,” Mark said, “listen to me. I know it’s scary, but you’re in a safe place. Can you tell me where you are?”

I tried to listen to him. I tried to focus on where I was before death came for me. “Walmart…”

“Okay, good. Me and Ryan are going to come and get you. Okay? You’re going to be just fine. Bella?”

I hummed.

“Can you breathe for me? Take one deep breath.”

I tried. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I was still hyperventilating and shaking. I was still dizzy.

“Can you do it again?” he asked gently. “You’re doing good. We’re on our way there. You’re going to be okay.”

~

Mark drove me back to my apartment once I was calm enough. I preferred to be in my own home after a panic attack mainly because I didn’t want to face anybody at Mark’s house. It was too embarrassing. Being around other people would just bring my anxiety back up again, and home was my sanctuary.

“Do you know what set you off?” asked Mark as we entered the small vicinity.

“Nope,” I replied, immediately going to my bedroom.

Naturally, Mark followed me. “What, it just happened out of nowhere?”

“Well, that’s how it usually is,” I said, indifferent. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that.”

“No, don’t do that,” Mark firmly said. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. It’s not your fault this happens.”

I sighed, plopping down onto my unmade bed. “Still, you don’t deserve to put up with me like this all the time.” It’s also frustrating when he asks why. Honey, I wish I knew.

“Hey, I am more than happy to help you get through it,” he reassured. “And I’m glad that you trust me. I know you’re not choosing to have anxiety. I just want you to know that I’m here for you when you need me. Don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed when you need help. I’m happy to help, and Ryan was too when I asked him to come with me. The boys are all worried about you.”

I couldn’t help the eyeroll. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious. You should have seen Jack’s face when he realized you weren’t okay.”

“I don’t want people worrying!” I finally snapped. “I don’t want his pity, I don’t want anyone’s pity!”

“It’s not pity! They actually care about you! They don’t want you to suffer like this, and neither do I! Why do you get so upset when someone cares about you?”

I couldn’t look him in the eyes. Here he was, trying to make me feel better, and I was just shitting on it.

It’s not that I was upset. It was just hard to process the fact that someone is willing to be around me, or even be willing to date me even though I’m like this. I felt like I was too sick and too unstable. But I couldn’t tell Mark because I would get another “why” and I was too tired for that.

I wouldn’t blame him if he left me, but at the same time I didn’t want him to leave me. And I really couldn’t tell him that because it was all sorts of manipulative. There were a lot of things I couldn’t tell him because of manipulation. I was so toxic, I really didn’t understand why he wanted to be near me.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I knew he wasn’t asking out of spite or annoyance, deep down. Very deep down.

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

~

Mark spent the night, even though it meant he couldn’t record and upload his first video of the day on time. I tried not to feel guilty. He recorded at my house, but he had to edit with Matt at his, and I was a heavy sleeper. He said he didn’t want to wake me up since I had a hard time yesterday. Meaning, we were back at his house around the time Jack and I were supposed to go to campus. About twenty minutes before Mark’s second video was supposed to go up. Oops.

Besides that, I was expecting the awkward, “elephant-in-the-room” silence when Jack came out to join me in the car. He was the one who found me in my distress. I didn’t mind silence, typically. It wouldn’t be the first time I was the cause of awkward silence.

“Morning!” he cheerily greeted as he took Mark’s place in the passenger seat.

“You kids be good now!” Mark called as he walked to the front door.

“Bye, Daddy! I love you!” Jack returned.

“Oh my god,” I chuckled under my breath.

“How are you, Bella?” Jack asked me, clearly in high spirits. Surely he wasn’t speaking mentally, or following my panic attack from yesterday. He was just being polite. Right?

“I’m good,” I replied. But my stupid ass still said, “Sorry you had to hear me over the phone like that yesterday.”

He waved it off. “Don’t be sorry. I did get a little worried, but Mark said you were okay. And you look and sound okay.”

“Yeah, well, he stayed with me, so it was all good.” As long as I remained indifferent, I wouldn’t feel guilty.

The silence I was originally expecting happened only for a few seconds. Jack could never stay quiet.

“Can I ask you something about your anxiety?”

“Sure.” I felt my stomach sink.

“Does it happen, your panic attacks and such, does it happen randomly or do you get triggered?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Both,” I replied. “Like the one from yesterday was unexpected. But there’s also certain things I can’t do because it will make my anxiety spike.”

“Things like what? Or is that too personal?” He sounded a lot more sincere now. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to tell him.

“Well,” I began. “I can’t go to parties, unless I’m already intoxicated, and I don’t really drink much to begin with. I can’t go to stores where I know the employees go up to customers and talk to them. Can’t make phone calls. Oh, and so help me god if I find a bug anywhere in my house. And scary movies. Well, actually anything horror I can’t handle.”

Jack nodded, listening intently. “That must be really hard to live your life around that. Wait, so if you don’t do horror, does that mean you don’t like Halloween?”

“Unfortunately, no.” That was one thing I got laughed at for, but so far he was taking it seriously.

“Oh, well that sucks. Does Mark know all of your triggers?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good at keeping those things away from me and helping me through my attacks. Way better than the last person I dated.”

“Did you ex-boyfriend know about your anxiety?”

Here we go. The moment that will determine if I really can be friends with this guy.

“Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected. “She knew, but there were a lot of things going on that tied in with my anxiety. She didn’t really know how to handle me. Can’t say I blame her.”

“Well, still,” Jack said. “If she knew you were in distress, wouldn’t she try to help you?”

“You’d think,” I replied. “But things were just as hard for her. She hadn’t come out yet, and her family was honestly the most homophobic group of people I had ever met. It was hard, they would get suspicious. I had to break up with her.”

“That must’ve been hard... “

“Oh, it was. And after we had broken up too. It was really hard. But I found Mark some time later and things got better. He makes me really happy.”

“I can tell.” There was a pause. “You make him really happy too.”

I smiled, yet I found it hard to believe. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s so much happier! I remember him telling me over Skype when you guys first started dating. He was really giddy! I think you changed him.”

“Really?” My voice went up and octave.

“Yes! He’s absolutely crazy about you!”

Oh god, don’t squeal like a little girl. Don’t giggle like an idiot. Stop blushing!

“You really like him, don’t you?” Jack said, seeing the look on my face.

I nodded, my face red and my heart fluttering.

~

“Why do I need a physical education class?” whined Jack. “The place is closing anyway!”

“They’re probably trying to suck as much money out of us as possible,” I replied. “On the bright side, you get to deal with me for another whole hour and fifteen minutes!”

More like I was dealing with him. Not going to lie though, it would be interesting to see if Jack could stay quiet in a yoga class. Yes, Jack, of all people, was going to take yoga with me. It was only because all the other classes were either canceled or full, and he had no other choice. So now it was three out of four classes I had with him.

“I don’t even have a mat or anything!” he said as we approached the multipurpose room.

“There’s some you could borrow,” I told him. “It’s actually really fun once you get used to it.”

“We could do the yoga challenge!” he joked.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” I told him. “We should do it once we’re good enough.”

“Or we could do it while we suck because it’ll be funnier.”

We made it to the MPR. The instructor was already there, along with other new classmates. Jack went to her to make sure he was added to the class roster. I unrolled my mat in a spot in the back of the room, and then I removed my shoes and put them by the wall behind me. Not long after, I saw Jack with his own borrowed mat, unrolling it directly in front of the mirrors. He looked back at me, gesturing for me to join him. I actually debated it, but then a really short girl with dark brown and blonde hair took the space next to him.

I only watched her because I recognized her. She unrolled her mat and then went to the back of the room to drop her backpack and take off her shoes. She didn’t even notice me staring. It was the captain of the dance team. The girl with the dance solo that broke my gay little heart. In all honesty, she looked downright angry, like she didn’t want to be here.

Of course, when she took her place at the front of the room, Jack talked to her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, but I could see her expression through the mirror. She was not interested in anything he had to say. She probably would have snapped on him if the instructor hadn’t brought the class to order.

_______

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