Work Text:
i. 2012, Freshman Year, Barden University
There are so many other things Beca would rather be doing.
Like go to the dentist. Actually show up for class. Spend time over dinner with her dad and the step-monster.
Okay, maybe not that last one. Nothing in the world would make her choose that.
But here she is, in that stupid red hoodie, holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, refusing to sing that stupid song with Amy.
*
Later, back at the auditorium where they have Bellas practice, Aubrey's voice is shrill and loud. (As always, Beca thinks.)
"Beca, you really need to be picking up the slack. We need every dollar that we can raise so that we have enough to cover our journey to the semi-finals, and you're dead last in our fundraiser right now."
Amy mutters something under her breath, soft enough for Beca to hear something about — the bus? The Trebles?
She doesn't really know. Whatever it is, it's not something she wants to get in the middle of.
"Maybe we can think of something new to do." Beca's tone is dry, and she schools her expression into something neutral on her face, her head tilted slightly, knowing that Aubrey has to know she isn't just talking about the fundraising activity.
It's just — she can feel the potential of these girls, okay? And it's such a shame that they're stuck doing the same three songs, over and over. If she could at least try, show them her arrangements, maybe they'd have a fighting chance.
"I have the pitch pipe, and I say we do this exactly how we have been doing it."
Beca is about to say something snarky, something she knows is going to get under Aubrey's skin, when Chloe's voice rang out beside her.
"It's okay. I'll do it with Beca tomorrow."
She hasn't even noticed Chloe approaching them in the midst of this, so her head whips around so fast at the sound of her voice.
"Don't you have a class during that time, Chloe? That's the whole reason why we couldn't pair you up with Beca."
There's something about Aubrey's clipped words that is super careful and controlled, like there's more that she wants to say but isn't.
Chloe shrugs, before turning to Beca with a beaming smile. "It's okay, skipping out on one Russian Lit lecture won't make a difference."
*
Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.
Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least. She thinks she doesn't know anyone who's more enthusiastic about everything and anything.
There's something about Chloe that feels like embers starting at the base of Beca's dead, cold heart, warming it up and turning itself three sizes larger.
It's not a thing she wants to unpack right now; she's not the type to get attached to people, and especially not when she's going to go through with her plan, and leave at the end of the school year. It doesn't matter if her dad helps her or not.
"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Chloe's voice, melodic as it comes, breaks the silence as they walk towards the south quad. She looks ready to go through the entire residence hall, her angel wings bouncing behind them.
"It's a day corporations literally invented to convince everyone to buy cards and chocolates and flowers at jacked up prices, so..."
Chloe lets out a happy sigh. "Maybe so. But it's also a day to celebrate love! And love is so awesome. I love love. And I'm not just talking about romantic love, though that is nice. You can also celebrate the love from all relationships in your life. Like your best friends, or your parents, or your siblings."
Beca raises an eyebrow, because Chloe is just so goddamn earnest. She tugs at her hoodie. "Let me guess, you and shower guy have a date?"
"Who, Tom?"
"How many shower guys do you have?" There's a beat. "Actually, don't answer that."
*
So here she is, still in that stupid red hoodie, still holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, and singing a duet with Chloe Beale.
*
The next morning, Kimmy unceremoniously drops a box at the foot of Beca's bed, a loud thud waking her up.
There's a sleeping mask, a whole clip of flash drives, two huge jars of peanut butter, and cans of Red Bull in the box. There's also a card, and her name is written carefully in the middle of an envelope.
Happy Valentine's Day, Beca!!!! I've said this before, and I'll say it forever: I'm SO glad that I met you. I LOVE that you love music like it's the one thing you can't live without. It's something that really resonates with me, too. You make us better. :) :)
xoxo,
Chloe!
*
Beca drifts off to sleep that night, the music still playing in her headphones. She's wearing that sleeping mask across her eyes.
ii. 2014, Junior Year, Barden University
The thing with Jesse is, he really loves these grand gestures of romance.
Sometimes Beca thinks that that's his favorite part. It's almost like he's in love with the idea of being in a relationship.
Worse still, in love with the idea of her, like she's this perfectly scripted character who exists for him.
Last year for Valentine's Day, Jesse had shown up at her dorm. Well, outside of her window actually, boombox on his shoulder.
She'd tried not to wince, her lips pressed together into something resembling a smile (she hopes) to the strains of In Your Eyes, at the ungodly hour of dawn.
It isn't even that she had just gotten to sleep like, two hours before that. Or the very clear and enunciated "fuck off!" that her neighbor gave them, complete with a dramatic slamming of her window.
At least she doesn't have to deal with that now, now that they've all moved into the Bellas house, newly renovated.
It was just a lot, right? And maybe she should have been a better girlfriend to anticipate it this year, or at least match some of that. Rise up to his level, or something.
She just has a reservation to a fancy Italian restaurant in Midtown, and she made that way in advance. So maybe she gets points for that?
January rolls into February, and she dreads it. Every day is a countdown to The Fourteenth.
*
Here's the more pressing thing: Chloe seems sad. Not all the time, but Beca catches it occasionally.
She presumes she knows her best friend pretty well by this point, until she's doing things like failing a single class on purpose so that she doesn't graduate. For the second year in a row.
And Beca gets it, at least on an abstract level. If she starts thinking about what comes after graduation — and that's in a year and some — she gets nervous, too. But in no version of her reality does she get so paralyzed with fear, that she would opt to repeat her senior year like it’s groundhog year.
She wishes she could know why, for certain. She can't help if she doesn't know what's going on in Chloe's head, but for the first time, it's Chloe's turn to clam up and switch the subject.
So Beca doesn't push. She hopes it's enough to keep her afloat as she works through whatever it is. She doesn't really know what that entails, but music? Music she can do.
She pours her energy into putting together a really solid mix for Chloe; it's all the songs that remind Beca of her, and their friendship. She picks songs and arranges them and removes them before she puts them back in, because it has to sound right.
Beca feels like the world's biggest dork for giving it to her the morning of Valentine's Day.
Well, second biggest dork, because she intercepts Chloe leaving the gift boxes in the room, for her and Amy.
"Hey, uh. Happy Valentine's Day," she says, handing her the flash drive — one of the many that Chloe has gotten her over the years, like she's her supplier — and hoping she doesn't look as awkward as she feels. "It's not anything like your, like, super thoughtful gifts." She gestures in that general direction. "But you're my best friend, so... here."
She gets pulled into a hug, and Beca can't be sure, but it sounds like Chloe's 'thank you' is strained and she's about to cry.
Beca hopes it's enough.
*
"So, Jesse gave you just the one earring?"
Beca's back from the dinner. It was... nice? There was a string quartet and Jesse made them play John Legend's All Of Me, and Beca didn't actually die of embarrassment when he started singing along, so she'll chalk that up as a win.
"Yeah, it's like — symbolism, I guess. From the movie." Beca shrugs, chewing on the popcorn she's made that Chloe is currently stealing. She thinks about lightly smacking her hand away, but ends up shifting the bowl so that it's nearer to Chloe.
Does she regret putting Don't You (Forget About Me) in their setlist? Maybe.
Probably not, all things considered, because it worked well together with the other songs, and they did win the finals that year.
But it elevated the movie to mythical and legendary status for Jesse, and if he does that arm raising motion one more time during squabbles he wants to get out of? Beca might lose it even harder.
"Is it symbolism or a metaphor? I could never tell the difference."
"I think it was a metaphor in the movie," Beca starts, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But more of a symbol for like, me and Jesse? Oh my god." She presses her free hand to her eyes. "You're such a nerd. Stop making me think deeper about this than I need or want to."
"I just think it's nice," she hears Chloe say.
Beca hums, tone neutral. "It's something, for sure. Wait." She whips her head to face her best friend. "You didn't go out tonight? Ms. 'I Love Love'?"
Chloe chuckles lowly, quietly. "I have all I need here in this house, anyway."
*
When Beca goes to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water, she thinks she hears the soft strains of her mix playing from Chloe's room.
iii. 2017, Brooklyn, NY
It's apparently the warmest February in New York on record, but Beca is still fucking freezing.
The incessant chill envelops the air, and she pulls her coat closer to her. She's bundled under layers, but the radiator in their tiny little apartment is, as most things in it, almost completely busted.
Jesus Christ. It's cold.
*
Amy is convinced she's cold because she's moping, because she's sad about breaking up with Jesse.
Beca knows she isn't, and it's not just the long distance thing.
They'd given it a fair go, and it sucked that he got busier with classes and she tried to solve all of the music industry's problems as an associate producer, working hours trying to make tracks sound... sonically unrotten.
It's not just the long distance thing, because if Beca was honest with herself, it was probably a sign that when he told her that he was thinking of completing his studies in California, her immediate response was that of neutral indifference.
So, she is totally fine.
*
Beca hears Chloe singing softly before the door even opens, and she can hear it swing open too, and she knows Chloe is about to shrug her coat off —
"Don't bother, it's also cold in here," Beca says, from under the covers.
Then, her eyes track Chloe as she walks to the radiator —
"I checked, it's working. Supposedly."
"Aww." Chloe strides the distance — not that it's that long — and sits down on their shared bed. "You're so cute when you're grumpy."
"Aren't you freezing?" she chooses to deflect the comment, hugging herself petulantly. "Hey, how was your date with that guy at the clinic?"
Chloe hums noncommittally. "We went for coffee and he double-booked me with another girl."
"Dude. What a dick." Beca feels a flash of — annoyance? Chloe deserves the world. Chloe deserves everything she wants. "I'm sorry."
"I know. It's okay though." Chloe smiles at her. It's that smile that Beca catches that she thinks it's just for her, but she's also a logical person who knows that Chloe has that ability to make people feel like they're the most important person in the world. "I've got all I need right here."
Warmth pools at Beca's stomach, and honestly. It's a nice change from the freezing.
*
It's 2 AM, and they're cuddling, because of course they are; because Chloe is warm; because Chloe is an embrace personified; because... Chloe.
Beca stirs awake, and she feels Chloe's breath tickle at the base of her neck. She shifts, not uncomfortably. Then, Chloe's hand drifts sleepily, and lands somewhere on Beca's hip.
And then.
And then.
There is a sudden, startling clarity in Beca's mind, knocking the figurative breath out of her. Her eyes fly open.
She loves Chloe.
And not in the same way where she loves the rest of her found family in the other Bellas.
Oh no, a voice sounds in her mind.
Oh, this is very bad, she thinks.
She can't believe how still she is right now, feeling the entire weight of Chloe's body in contact against her. Feeling her slow, steady breathing against her back. She's not even cold anymore.
Okay. So she loves her best friend. Cool, cool, very cool. That's totally fine. She can handle this.
Chloe's been such a fixture in her life, at every turn; in every note in between the downbeat and upbeat that is her life.
Music is in Beca's veins, her whole life, but music flows right through Chloe. She's tucked warmly in the melody, a motif throughout the entire song.
Holy shit, Beca thinks. She's been in love with Chloe for so long, she doesn't even know when it started.
*
Okay, so. There's a weird spot on the ceiling, right? And Beca just keeps staring at it, because if she closes her eyes, she will feel Chloe's presence so keenly, pressed next to her.
She can't do anything with this knowledge. She can imagine it now, Chloe giving her a comforting hug but tells her, sorry Beca, I love you but not in that way.
It's five whole years of friendship, of Chloe by her side no matter what, and that is the one thing that she's got that she doesn't want to risk, just because she had this stupid revelation.
God. It's so stupid. It'll pass. Right?
iv. 2018, Los Angeles, CA
What is really fucking weird, even in the grand scheme of things, is journalists asking her if she's doing anything for Valentine's Day.
Which, like. First of all, Beca's not stupid, she knows it's a way to suss out her personal-slash-love life.
She's kept that pretty close to her chest for now.
But also, there's literally nothing to tell. She's not being defensive because there's something to hide away. Beca is knee-deep in work all the time, and she goes home to an apartment that feels too big for just herself.
It's a big change from the entirely too cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Sometimes she finds herself missing that very specific part of her life. Not the struggling and being unhappy doing work with no integrity, obviously.
But Chloe is now a message and three hours ahead, instead of being a daily fixture in her apartment, and it leaves Beca feeling off-kilter.
But maybe that distance is a good thing, after... you know. Revelations.
Anyway.
Her work ethic doesn't stop rumors. She's linked to every guy available — and some not — every single time one of them likes her Instagram posts. She's pretty sure she's had at least two full relationships, according to the National Enquirer.
Theo gleefully sends her screenshots. She tells him to fuck off.
*
Chloe
Look out, super star! I'm going to be in LA for a good friend's wedding in February!! If you think we're not going to hang, you're sorely mistaken.
Beca is busy, but she sure as hell isn't going to miss Chloe coming to LA.
Beca
You have good friends outside of the Bellas? I am shocked, Beale.
Chloe
Don't be jealous 😉
She's not. Not because of that, she catches herself thinking, and frowns at herself. Not because of anything, she decides.
It's also exactly how she decides she doesn't have feelings for Chloe anymore, because Chloe is happy with Chicago, and Beca has work, and honestly? Best outcome out of every outcome possible.
Still, Beca offers up her apartment for the long-ish weekend that Chloe would be in town. She's not a monster, and Chloe has like, a mountain of student debt.
It's the least she could do.
*
(Beca thinks back to that first performance at the Citadel, just under a year ago. Thinks of all the nerves she's never felt before, while she's walking to the microphone.
She's always had the girls on stage with her, but not this time. Her family would be seated in the front row, supporting her no matter how far she goes.
She gets to bring them up on stage this time, of course, but it's also a temporary balm and she knows it. But that's fine, she can figure that part out.
It's the after that smarts a little.
After the performance, after the event, after she feels that pit, growing and clawing from her stomach when she sees Chloe lock lips with Chicago.
After she walks away with Theo, trying her level best to carry on a conversation as if she's not affected by what she'd just seen; trying not to think of all the what-ifs.
After, on the plane back home, when she directs a small smile at Chloe's direction. If she's happy then she's happy for her.
It's the least she could do.)
*
Chloe's flight reaches the airport at 7 in the evening, and Beca's right there at LAX, waiting for her to emerge. She can see a couple of people with the big paparazzi cameras, training their lenses at her, but she doesn't care.
There's a flash of red as she sees Chloe running to her, and thankfully she catches her.
"Oh, I've missed you," Chloe says, so earnest and sincere as always; always, and Beca can hear her own heartbeat. She's almost worried that Chloe can too, like a traitorous Tell-Tale Heart.
"Yeah, well, regular sight for sore eyes, that's me." That's good, right? She hits jocularity right in the bullseye with that, as if she can't feel the top of her ears growing hot.
Chloe just laughs; like another kind of warmth. She draws her in again, hand rubbing up and down Beca's back.
Beca thinks she's stupid, for feeling like she's home.
*
They get to Beca's place, Chloe appraising the place appreciatively as she wheels her luggage in.
"This is already at least fifty times nicer than our little shoebox in Brooklyn," she observes, and Beca shrugs, a little embarrassed.
"I mean, the label's paying for it, and it's like, it's — it's ridiculous." There's a voice at the back of Beca's head repeating, our little shoebox, and she wants it to shut up.
But it is ridiculous. She has so much space, and two rooms; she sleeps in one and the other one is where she works. She's pretty sure she spends more time in the latter than she does the former.
"Anyway, uh, so here's my sort-of office, it's a bit of a mess right now." She waves her hand around (god, why is she using her hands so much) at the room with her equipment and instruments, before stepping to her bedroom door. "And here's the bedroom, which, like. You should take the bed. My couch pulls out and it's really comfortable?"
"Don't be silly," Chloe tells her, looking back at the king-sized bed. "We've slept in way more crowded spaces. This will be perfect."
Beca swallows, hard. Perfect.
*
Falling back into a routine with Chloe is scarily easy.
She's been here for less than three hours, and Beca's already back to being attuned to her. They put on some music in the background, she listens to Chloe talk so passionately about school and all the stuff she's learning, and Beca is so proud.
She brushes her teeth and changes into her pajamas after Chloe does, exactly like how they used to, and climbs into her bed.
"Oh, shoot, I almost forgot," Chloe's saying, and Beca cocks her head curiously to see what she's forgotten. Her best friend comes back with a box, and hands it over to her.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Bec. Also, I don't think flash drives are in fashion now," she winks. "So your Google Drive storage has been renewed, for all the audio files you need to back up. Don't worry, I didn't look at anything else."
"Wh — oh. Oh, right, Valentine's Day, gifts and all," Beca says, and looks at the box in her hand. "Wait, is this —"
"Chocolate from your favorite place in New York? Yessss," Chloe says, a laugh coloring her tone. She settles back into bed. "Not that you have a shortage of chocolate places here, but Amy reminded me of the time she ate most of the last box after how you were saving your favorite pieces, so I thought I'd bring some here for you."
Beca's heart clenches.
"Thanks, Chlo." She's pretty proud of how unwavering her voice is. "I miss it."
"It's been tough for me too, not having you in my orbit," Chloe says, bumping their shoulders together.
"Yeah? Must be extra tough, because Chicago's not around either." Then she's scrambling. "Not that I'm like, comparing myself to your boyfriend in any way."
She sees Chloe's mouth twist to the side. Beca's eyebrows knit together.
"Chlo?"
"He's not my boyfriend anymore." Chloe's words are slow, measured. Like she's afraid of setting something off.
Beca pauses, as she takes it all in.
"Oh. I mean — Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It's been..." Beca sees Chloe's furrowed brows as she thinks. "Three months, almost. Just right before Christmas."
Beca thinks back to Christmas; to the group messages, the online gift cards and food deliveries made in each other's names.
Nowhere in her memory exists this piece of information, and she's pretty sure she's not been that shitty of a friend to miss this.
It feels a little bit like being hurt, actually.
"Oookay," she says, licking her lips a little, letting the air out of her slowly. "Okay. Well. Good night, Chloe."
*
Beca can't fall asleep, and she's pretty sure she knows why. It's been an hour of staring at the ceiling, and she tries to will her stupid mind to shut down for the night.
She thinks Chloe must be asleep by now; her body clock must be three hours —
"Bec?"
Beca pauses for so long that she thinks Chloe might actually think she's asleep.
"Yeah."
She feels Chloe shift. "I want you to ask me."
Beca wants to be obtuse and frustrating; wants to pretend she doesn't know what she's talking about.
Instead, the confusion and hurt win out.
She pushes herself up on her elbows, then into a sitting position. It doesn't feel like a conversation that they should have lying down.
She waits for Chloe to do the same, before finding her voice and words.
"Why didn't you tell me that you and Chicago broke up?" Dimly lit by the street lights outside, Beca sees her shift in place, and she feels Chloe's hand reaching for hers. "I thought — well. You know. That we tell each other things."
Which is slightly rich, coming from her, she knows. But still.
Chloe sighs, just quietly. "Because I have feelings for someone else."
Beca blinks, taking that in. It's a weird feeling because she's simultaneously crushed and hopeful, and maybe it's the hour, or maybe it's Chloe's hand in hers, but as her eyes sweep across Chloe's face, Beca is emboldened.
She leans in, and time feels like it's slowing down as she closes the distance and presses her lips on Chloe's, roughly and then temperately.
Beca's not the most impulsive person. In the moments, though, when she is, they always leave her wondering if she'd done something stupid — like punching creepy middle-aged a cappella guys, like leaving in the middle of a fight, like pulling the girls up on stage during her solo set.
Like kissing Chloe Beale in her bed.
So she pulls back suddenly, as quickly as she had started it, an apology already stumbling out. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I just assumed, I'm so sor—"
Chloe makes a noise; something that sounds like no, her eyes so startlingly blue even in this light, and Beca freezes.
She's sure her brain is working out some sort of rambling apology or excuse, maybe pass it off as a joke somehow?
But Chloe pulls her back in, both thumbs lightly touching Beca's cheekbones as she meets their lips again.
This second kiss is deeper, slower, more connected. It takes her breath away, as her hand curls at the back of Chloe's neck. Chloe tastes like mint and sweetness and sincerity, and a little like hopeless optimism on Beca's part.
A soft gasp escapes, and Chloe pulls away this time.
Beca has a tentative smile on her face, as she takes in a breath heavily; the questions written so plainly on her face.
Chloe's eyes shine.
"It's always been you, Beca."
v. 2020, Los Angeles, CA
Having your anniversary on Valentine's Day is good. And bad.
Mostly good, because it means that Beca has that to help keep herself honest and not forget it, because it's impossible to.
Also, she won't forget, but, you know. Just in case.
Bad, especially last year, because it fell right around the Grammys weekend, and apparently when you're nominated and win pretty much... every single category you're in, that's kind of a big fucking deal.
(It started with Best New Artist, and by the time she's on that stage a fourth time, she literally had no other words and nothing but so much gratitude.)
But yeah, so last year's Valentine's Day-slash-anniversary was overwhelming. People contacting her from all corners, wanting to congratulate her and get some sound bites; the internet pouring both support, and scathing critique on her and her music.
Beca wishes she could say she rose above it, that she was as cool as her publicist thinks her to be.
Instead, Chloe had to deal with her, a stressful human ball of anxiety and nerves. Amazing, wonderful, sweet Chloe, just happy to be around her during these exciting and utterly vulnerable times.
*
This year, though. This year she's older and wiser.
Hopefully.
This year, the day falls on a Friday, but they've decided to celebrate it the next day and through the weekend instead, because Chloe has a seminar she needs to attend for school, and Theo had packed Beca's entire day with a long meeting.
Key word: had.
At 7 AM, as she wakes up groggily and checks her phone, the invite has disappeared from her calendar, presumably rescheduled for some other time.
She vaguely notes the message from Theo about entire teams not being available, and Beca's not going to question the reason why, because she's immediately looking up flights to Ithaca and books the first one out.
*
(I'm not private jet rich, dude. Also, carbon footprint. Text to Amy, because of course.)
*
Here's her plan:
She'll make a beeline to Chloe's apartment (Beca's been here plenty of times, in the past couple of years; met her friends here in Cornell, hung out with them, appreciated that they're her support circle while she's here), and she'll say something incredibly dorky, and Chloe will kiss her, and then, they will celebrate properly.
God, the things Chloe can do with her mouth; the sounds Beca can get her to make.
Beca doesn’t even bother squirming in the plane seat.
*
Chloe
I have a surprise!!!
Whereeee are you? 🥰🥰🥰
*
Here's what happens instead:
Beca has to fly back home — noun, the place where she lives; noun, Chloe — because while she was spending six hours flying east, Chloe had done the same in the opposite direction; her seminar being canceled (something about the professor being sick?).
She can't believe it.
Okay, she can maybe believe it.
God, the Bellas are going to have a field day with this.
*
In the group chat, Chloe's taken a selfie of herself in Beca’s apartment and captioned it: I flew here a day early to surprise Beca, but she flew to Cornell instead to surprise me too 😂
Emily
OMAG YOU GUYS that is SO CUTE!!!!!!
Beca reads Emily's text, shaking her head, knowing that this is the younger girl's version of restraint.
Flo
One time I thought a guy was going to propose to his girlfriend on the plane, but turned out he was having a heart attack instead.
Jessica&Ashley
#justsoulmatethings
*
Rush hour in LA is so horrible, and it's nearly 8 PM when she finally gets back to her apartment. She jogs all the way from the Lyft to her door.
Beca never jogs.
Her own door flings open, and she sees the smiling face of the woman she loves.
"Flying cross country for me is so romantic."
"You did that too," Beca points out, a small smirk on her face.
"Yeah, but you did it twice." Chloe beams, and kisses her again, and again.