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becasbelt · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 9/12 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: T Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale, Dr. Mitchell (Pitch Perfect), Beca Mitchell's Mother, Aubrey Posen, Jesse Swanson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, skateboarder!beca, Romance, Angst

* * *

Beca’s knees hit hard concrete as she falls off her board, the sensation of fabric and skin tearing sending pain shooting through her legs. She hears Briggs call out to ask if she’s alright from somewhere near the top of the ramp, but Beca waves him off.

The external pain is welcome; it gives Beca a break from her internal heartache.

She struggles to her feet and bends over to instruct the damage on her knees. Just as she’d suspected, her pants are ripped up and one of her knees is bleeding as a result of her skidding across the ground. Beca winces slightly at the sight of blood, but just straightens up and makes her way up the ramp to where a first aid kit was waiting.

The new hole in her jeans gives Beca convenient access to her wound, so she sets to work cleaning it out. Beca pours some water over her knee, ignoring the slight sting that comes as a result, and digs around in the first aid bag for a Band-Aid. She hears someone plop down on the bench beside her – probably Wyatt based on the now present scent of weed in the air – but chooses not to speak until prompted.

“So, Beca,” her friend says after a moment.

And there it is.

“So, Wyatt,” she replies in kind, her focus on unwrapping her precious Band-Aid from its wrapper.

Wyatt chuckles goofily next to her, and Beca fights off a grin at the familiar sound. “What’s going on with you, dude?” he asks, nudging her shoulder a little bit as he lights up a joint beside her. “You’ve been home for Spring break for, what- five days now? Why haven’t you regaled us with any stories from your time amongst the knowledge seekers?”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Either you’re not high enough to forget how to use big words, or you’re just high enough to start using them.” She glances at him teasingly with a raised eyebrow.

He wiggles his own eyebrows in response. “I’m gonna go with the second one,” he replies cheekily. Beca just laughs and steals his joint for a quick drag of her own before returning her attention to patching up her knee. Wyatt continues smoking quietly beside her.

“School sucks, man,” she says after a moment, choosing to keep her eyes focused on her wound. She smooths the bandage out over her cuts with some level of satisfaction, enjoying the way the injury seems to disappear completely. Out of sight, out of mind. “It’s just as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“I mean, yeah,” is Wyatt’s remarkable response. Beca looks at him to see an indifferent look on his face as he watches other skateboarders goof off around them. “There’s a reason none of us wanted to go to college. It’s a waste of time.”

Uncertainty flashes through Beca’s mind at that, but she ignores it and turns her head away to watch Briggs grinding a rail with mild interest and a slight scowl. “You’re telling me.”

“So have you had any fun at school at least?” Wyatt asks after a small lull in the conversation. “Like, do have anyone you hang out with, or are you doing the whole ‘lone wolf’ thing again?”

The question causes Beca to briefly think back on unwelcomed memories from the last few months- most having to do with a certain redhead that Beca’s been spending the entirety of the break trying to forget. The only problem is, Chloe Beale is not someone that you can just forget.

Try as she might, Beca can still remember the look on Chloe’s face as she walked away from her after semi-finals. The hurt and heartbreak that shown on the other girl’s face as Beca declared they were nothing is there in Beca’s mind every time she closes her eyes, which had also caused serious sleeping problems for Beca. Instead of sleeping, Beca had devoted her time to skating and partying with acquaintances- just like the good ‘ol days.

Though the parties may be a welcomed distraction, Beca has found herself yearning for the quiet afternoons she and Chloe often spent together: walks around campus, doing homework in Beca’s dorm room, lazy Sunday afternoons where Beca would run her hands through ginger locks while Chloe napped.

Beca hated how much Chloe made her not hate being at school.

She also hated how often she checked her phone for notifications. It was automatic at this point; every so often she would turn her screen on to make sure she didn’t have any texts that came through, but each time she looked, she was met with the sight of no new texts.

Beca clicks on her phone now, just to make sure.

Nothing.

Whatever. Didn’t matter.

She snatches the joint from Wyatt’s fingers. “You know me,” she says after inhaling smoke deeply, letting it out in a slow stream with her next exhale. “I’ve never been one to be overly attached to anything.”

“Amen to that, man,” Wyatt agrees, stealing the stick back to finish the rest off. He stamps the bud on the ground with his sneakered toe and pushes himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go show Briggs up on that rail. You wanna come?” he implores, then chuckles. “You could probably show us both up, to be honest.”

Beca forces a small grin on her face. “I think I’m actually going to head home,” she says instead of accepting, getting to her feet as well. “My mom is taking me out to dinner before I leave again.”

“Right on, dude,” is Wyatt’s response. He fist bumps her before riding over to where Briggs is, and Beca waves in departure to both of them before hoping on her board and making her way out of the skate park.

Beca takes the long way home, skating leisurely since she was in no rush. Her mom wasn’t taking her to dinner; in fact, Beca had hardly spoken to the woman since getting home for break. Long work hours on her mom’s end, plus Beca’s attempts at distracting herself have just resulted in not a whole lot of time spent together. Beca didn’t mind, though. She doubted her mom would have anything substantial to say to her anyways.

The sun is just setting in the sky when she arrives home, and Beca uses her key to unlock the empty house’s door. The front entryway is dark, but Beca doesn’t bother turning on any lights yet, opting to just rely on the fading light shining through the windows. Beca automatically heads in the direction of the stairs that lead up to her room, but pauses while passing the front room.

The piano that she has spent so many hours playing sits in its usual place under the window, the setting sun outside casting a faint orange glow on the polished wooden surface. The keys are covered, much in the way they were when Beca left for Barden. Beca studies the instrument for a moment before turning and taking a step away from the front room, but stops after only two steps and turns back around. She squints at the piano.

“And what do you want?” Her voice cuts through the empty air in the house, and Beca takes a few cautious steps towards the instrument.

The piano does not reply.

“Look at me. I must really be crazy, talking to a piano,” she mutters, laughing numbly. She wipes a finger through the dust covering the lid and slowly sinks down to sit on the piano’s bench, resting her elbows on the covered keys and putting her head in her hands. “Why am I such a mess?” she asks dejectedly.

Still, the piano remains silent.

Beca picks up her head and flops her hands down in her lap. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and places it on the bench next to her, turning it on briefly to check for notifications. As usual, no new messages appear on the screen. Beca sighs and glares at the piano as if it was judging her. “You’re not much help at all, you know that?” she tells the instrument.

Again, no answer.

She spends another moment squinting at the piano before letting out a resigned puff of breath. “Fine,” she murmurs under her breath as she lifts the fallboard up to expose the keys. “You win this time.”

When Beca places her hands on the keyboard and begins to play, she feels as though the piano finally responds to her. Beca plays with no real direction, no thoughts going through her mind. Her fingers dance over the notes on their own free will, and Beca finds herself taking comfort in the way the familiar action of playing eases her troubled emotions.

Soon enough it has gotten dark enough outside that Beca can no longer making out the piano very well, seeing as she hadn’t bothered turning on any lights upon arriving home. Beca pulls her hands away from the keys and reaches up to close the fallboard, but hesitates before she can pull it down.

The keys have spent enough time closed off, Beca thinks.

Beca wrinkles her nose at how lame that metaphor is for her life.

The keys remain uncovered as Beca rises from the bench and makes her way up to her room.

* * *

“What’s your favorite song?” Chloe asks, propping herself up on elbow from her place lying on Beca’s bed. Beca herself sits on the floor facing the bed, busy cleaning marks off the grip tape on her board. She looks up at Chloe’s question.

“I would’ve thought that you'd know I don’t listen to all that much music by now,” she replies wryly, focusing her attention back on her board.

Chloe huffs and pushes herself into a sitting position. “So you don’t have any songs you like?” she presses. “Not even from when you were a kid?”

“What’s your favorite song?” Beca retorts, redirecting the question.

“That’s not fair,” Chloe pouts.

Beca raises an eyebrow at her. “Then why’d you ask me the same question?”

Chloe opens her mouth, trying to come up with a response to that, but ends up shutting it again a moment later. Beca holds back a smug grin and looks back down at her board.

“Okay, well the thing is,” Chloe starts again. Beca sighs and sets her skateboard to the side; she’d have to work on it some other time. “It’s not a fair question because I don’t have just one favorite song.”

“Okay, what are you favorite songs, plural, then?” Beca asks, chuckling and shaking her head. She pushes off the floor and flops down on her stomach next to Chloe, who is still sitting upright, now deep in thought.

“Well, there’s Titanium, for obvious reasons,” Chloe starts out, shooting a suggestive wink towards Beca, who immediately flushes and lightly shoves Chloe’s leg with a laugh.

“Gross, dude. What else?”

Chloe begins to think again, and Beca ignores how easy the smile that comes to her face is as she watches the ginger ponder. “I’ve always been a big fan of ‘Here Comes the Sun,’” she eventually decides, nodding her head at the conclusion. “My parents used to call me their little sunshine when I was a kid, so I’ve just always had a soft spot for it.” Chloe starts humming the melody quietly and looks down at Beca with a smile on her face.

Beca listens to Chloe, debating with herself internally. Eventually Beca sighs a little and rolls onto her back. “Somethin’ Stupid,” she says, eyes trained on the ceiling.

Chloe’s humming ceases. “What?” she asks, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

“It’s a Frank Sinatra song- a duet he sings with his daughter,” Beca explains further. “My dad and I used to sing it together when I was a kid, before he, uh, walked out.” She clears her throat awkwardly and starts picking at her cuticles. “My dad wasn’t the best singer, but he always loved singing with me, which is a good thing since I always wanted someone to sing with. My mom played a little guitar, and she would pull it out on occasion and try to play some chords along with us, even if she usually didn’t do a very good job.” Beca chuckles a little at the memories of her mom and dad playfully teasing each other when one of them would mess up a note or chord. It was the healthy kind of fighting- the kind of fighting that was more for show and flirting purposes than anything

Beca’s thoughts stray to nights spent listening to her parents actually fighting with one another, which dampens Beca’s moment of brief reminiscence instantly. The smile falls from her face while she shrugs as best as she can while laying down and laces her fingers together over her stomach before meeting Chloe’s watchful gaze. “I dunno. I guess the song has always just stuck with me, even through all the rough years.”

A soft smile forms on Chloe’s lips, and the other girl leans over to kiss Beca gently. Beca closes her eyes contently at the action, letting Chloe pull back after a few seconds and resisting the urge to deepen the kiss.

“Thank you for telling me that,” Chloe whispers, face still hovering close above Beca’s. Beca grins a little.

“You’re the one that asked the question,” she replies just as quietly. “Of course I was going to answer.”

Chloe giggles a little before leaning in to kiss her again, and Beca lets herself get lost in the way her heart beats fast and how her lips turn up in a smile with each new kiss.

* * *

The scotch that Beca had stolen from her mom’s liquor cabinet sits next to Beca on the roof, untouched save for a couple sips taken about an hour ago. It was weird, but drinking her feelings away didn’t have quite the same appeal as it did a few months ago. Roof time used to be drinking time for Beca, but she just didn’t feel like numbing her feelings at the moment.

It was so hard going back to feeling sad and numb after being truly happy for the first time in years.

Beca checks her phone.

Nothing.

She sighs and stares at her screen until it automatically fades to black again. Beca rests her crossed arms over the top of her bent knees and rests her chin on them, focusing on the lights of the city in the distance. From here she can just make out the shape of the Space Needle, as well as a few other buildings she sort of recognizes. The noises of cars passing by from nearby is the only thing breaking the silent night air, and Beca lets the familiarity of it all wash over her, soothing her a little.

“Knock knock,” a voice says behind her.

Though Beca is surprised by her mother’s unexpected visit, she doesn’t turn around to greet her. “Hey,” she says with no enthusiasm. Beca hears shuffling as her mom climbs out the window and onto the roof.

Her mom slides her way over to sit beside Beca, and out of the corner of her eye Beca sees her eye Beca’s drink, but doesn’t comment. “How you doing, kid?”

“Fine,” is Beca’s automatic response. She winces slightly at the snappy tone she uses. “Just, you know, tired and stuff.”

“And stuff,” her mom echoes, humming a little. The woman says nothing else for a while, and Beca feels herself become more anxious the longer they sit there together. Beca finally turns her head to look at her mom and sees that her eyes are also focused on the city lights.

“What are you doing here?” Beca finally asks, a little shortly.

Her mom shrugs. “This is my house, isn’t it?” she says, seemingly unbothered by Beca’s tone. “I think I have the right to sit on my own roof.”

Beca huffs. “Yeah, but what are you doing here with me?” she tries again, turning away from her mom again. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job at ignoring me all week, why stop now?”

Her mom sighs sadly. “Listen, Beca, I know I haven’t been the best mother lately.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “That’s an understatement,” she mumbles under her breath.

“And I’m sorry for that,” her mom continues softly. “I’m so sorry that I shut you out after your father left. It wasn’t fair to you in any way, and I’m ashamed that it’s taken me so long to realize that I was even doing it at all.” Her mom’s voice tightens as she talks, and Beca feels a lump form in her own throat in response.

Beca chooses to remain silent.

“I was so focused on my own hurt feelings for so long that I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. It felt like I was in a mindless daze for three years, and it was only after you went away to school that I was able to snap out of it.” Beca turns her head slowly to see tears on her mother’s face, shocked by the first show of real emotions since right after her dad left. “It didn’t hit me until I was truly alone how terrible I’ve been the past few years,” her mom says, wiping tears off her cheeks. “I- I don’t know if you’ll be able to forgive me, but I’m willing to work to earn your forgiveness in whatever ways I can.”

Beca looks into pleading blue eyes, so much like her own, and feels all the anger and resentment she’s harbored towards her mother melt away. “You don’t have to earn anything,” Beca tells her gently, and Beca can see the surprise on her mom’s face at the words. “Of course I’ll forgive you. It was a rough few years for both of us, and I definitely could’ve handled it better, too. Just,” Beca puts on a faux stern face, “don’t let it happen again.”

A relieved, albeit shaky, chuckle sounds from her mom and Beca smiles at her reassuringly. “Are you too old for hugs from your mom?” she asks, holding out her arms hopefully.

The lump in Beca’s throat tightens even more. “I’ll never be too old for a hug from mom,” she says thickly before leaning into her mother’s embrace. Beca closes her eyes contently as something settles in her chest, making her feel calm.

After a moment of just sitting and holding each other quietly, Beca’s mom pulls back. “So,” she says, brushing a lock of Beca’s hair behind her ear. “How’s college? Is it as bad as you thought it would be?”

And just like that, Beca is spilling out everything that’s happened at Barden like the last three years of miscommunication never happened between them. She tells her about her job at the skate shop, and about how annoying Jesse is. She tells her about joining the Bellas and what competitions are like (though she leaves out the getting arrested part).

Beca spends a lot of time talking about Chloe- about how she convinced her to join the Bellas, about how kind and understanding she is; how she doesn’t seem to mind Beca’s perpetually grumpy mood and constant sarcasm.

About how she feels like Chloe has steadily broken down her walls.

How Chloe makes her want to be a better person.

“And mom, I,” Beca takes a moment to catch her breath, just now realizing how long she’s been talking for. Her mom doesn’t seem to mind; there’s a light in her eyes that Beca hasn’t seen in a long time, one that Beca hopes is here to stay for a while. “I started playing again.”

Her mom’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Piano?”

Beca smiles a little. “Piano, yeah,” she confirms. “Chloe asked if I did anything other than skate one day and I just… showed her. I didn’t even think twice about it.”

“How did it feel? Playing again,” her mom inquires.

“It felt…” Beca trails off for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It felt like I never stopped.”

Her mom smiles. “And based on the way the piano keys were open earlier, you’ve been playing ever since?”

Beca laughs. “I knew I should’ve covered them up again. Is that the only reason you came up here to talk to me?” she teases without mirth.

“No, but I was curious about it,” her mom reveals with a chuckle of her own. She sobers up a moment later. “I’m glad to hear that you’re playing again, though. I know that it’s something you used to really love.”

“I mean, it’s fine, I guess,” Beca says with a shrug, her tone giving away to the fact that she’s only joking.

“And,” her mom says hesitantly, “Based on the way you talk about this Chloe girl, I’m thinking piano isn’t the only thing you love.”

Beca’s mouth opens and closes at that, shocked to say the least. Her phone lights up with a Snapchat notification from Briggs, drawing Beca’s attention to the screen. She swipes the notification away and takes a moment to look at her screensaver. It’s a picture of she and Chloe, taken a couple of days before semi-finals. Chloe holds the phone while kissing Beca on the cheek, Beca’s face wrinkled up in fake discomfort. Chloe had teased Beca about how cute she was when she was grumpy, to which Beca had just rolled her eyes affectionately without complaint.

The memory brings a tender smile to Beca’s face. “Yeah,” she tells her mom, still looking down at her screensaver. “I guess you’re right.”

#fanfic #pitch perfect #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #life is not a love song #social isolation time means writing time #yay

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