My Fake Husband

A Pitch Perfect Story

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not know anything familiar.

Song Recommendation: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack

Author's Note: I should not be starting yet another story, but I had to. It has been plaguing me! I outlined this story ages ago. It is loosely based off of ABC Family's My Fake Fiancé and The Proposal. This story is completely AU. The characters are in their late twenties and early thirties. I am going to try to explain everything to you all, but if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! I am giving the Bellas and Trebles random last names. I hope you enjoy it.

Beca Mitchell sighed in relief when she saw that there was an open space in front of her apartment complex; she had lived in this complex for nearly four years. For approximately six months following her graduation from Barden University, she worked at a local Atlanta radio station, staying in contact with all of her friends from the Barden Bellas, the a cappella group she participated in. One of those people was Chloe Beale. Following the older redhead's graduation from Barden three years before Beca, she had moved to California, attending graduate school for her master's degree in public relations. After the two year program finished, she had gotten a job in the public relations department for Wharton Records. She always kept an eye for a possible position for Beca, who she knew wanted to produce music, so when there was an opening for an entry level position in the music production department, she told her younger friend and put in a good word for her with human resources. By the second full week of November, Beca was a resident of LA, crashing on Chloe's pull out couch, working at Wharton Records. It was the break she was looking for—the chance to start the process of becoming a famous music producer. Sure, the job didn't pay that much (which is why she lived on Chloe's couch for nearly four months before she had finally saved enough money up to afford rent at an apartment of her own), and she didn't get much of a chance to produce music for most of the last four and half years she had been working at Wharton Records, but it was still a start. Recently, she had been given the chance to have more of a role in production, and Beca was waiting for her final big break—to produce an entire album primarily by herself. She was excited that she even had the chance to get her name in a few album jackets on a couple of songs. She couldn't wait until the entire album had her name associated with it.

Beca was forever grateful to Chloe for all of her help in getting her the dream job she had always hoped for it. It was why she put up with Chloe's bullshit (a.k.a. trying to set her up on numerous occasions with stuffy guys from other Wharton departments and some of her boyfriend's friends from high school and college). Climbing from her car, grabbing her oversized black bag from the passenger seat (she wasn't a purse kind of girl, and she couldn't bring a briefcase to produce music, so she settled on shoulder bags—she had three: black, brown, and navy blue), she walked inside of the building, stopping at the mailboxes on her way to the elevator. Beca walked onto the elevator, hitting the button for her floor, and she began flipping through her mail. She came across a copy of Cosmo, several bills, junk mail circulars, a couple of letters (likely Christmas cards from friends and family), and one very important, tiny envelope. It had finally arrived, even though she knew that it was coming since the previous March (and again in September, with the save the date announcement). She shoved the rest of the mail inside of her bag and tore the envelope open, pulling out the small card with loopy gold cursive written on it. The invitation read:

Rebeca Charlotte Mitchell,

You have been cordially invited

to the blissful union of

Chloe Alexandria Beale

and

Dean Robert Wharton

to be held on

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Weddings and relationships weren't exactly Beca's thing, but she was happy for Chloe. The redhead began dating the son of the creator, president, and current CEO of Wharton Records about two and half years after she had started working at WR. Dean worked as the senior vice president of marketing and sales, so his department and Chloe's often interacted. After all of that time, Dean finally pulled his head out of his ass and asked the bubbly redhead out. After two years together, he proposed. Within six months, Chloe had the entire wedding planned (hence the arrival of the save the date card), but in reality, Beca thought that the redhead probably had her wedding planned since high school; it was just a matter of getting Dean to agree to all of the said wedding plans, contacting all of the right people, and registering for all of the right things. Within a week following her engagement, Chloe had already secured her four bridesmaids: Aubrey Posen (her best friend since freshman year at Barden and a fellow Barden Bella—the matron of honor), Beca, Jessica Keller (nee James, another Bella who was a year older than Beca), and Ella Whitman (her roommate from graduate school who had become a close friend). Beca had wanted to say no when Chloe asked her to be one of her bridesmaids, but she really loved the redhead like her sister (they had to get close considering that the second time Beca had ever spoken to her was when Chloe had accosted her in the shower in order to get her to audition for the Bellas).

The elevator dinged, indicating that it had arrived at her floor, and the doors opened. Beca stepped off, walking down the hallway to her apartment, digging around her bag for her keys. After she unlocked the door and stepped inside, she placed her bag down on the end table a few feet inside of her door, pulling off her lightweight jacket and hung it up on a hanger in the closet right by the doorway. She pulled the mail and her cell phone from her bag, walking further into her apartment. After sitting on her couch, dropping all of her mail in her lap, Beca dialed her phone. It barely rang twice before Chloe picked up on the other line. "Did it come today?!" Chloe squealed in Beca's ear, making her grimace and hold the phone away from her cheek.

"Hello to you, too," Beca muttered, rolling her eyes. Chloe scoffed, making Beca laugh. "Yes, it came today. I can't believe that in barely three months, you will be married to a guy who likes to go by the nickname of Hat." Dean apparently had a penchant for wearing backwards baseball caps all throughout college, so all of his buddies called him "Hat." She thought it was stupid and proceeded to make fun of him following the first party that Chloe and Hat had hosted at his apartment one year after they had gotten together. Chloe had invited all of the Bellas from Beca's freshman year, but only Beca, Fat Amy, Stacie, and Jessica had been able to make it to the party, because the four of them were LA residents and were more available to attend the party. A huge number of Dean's old friends from college had been there, and they kept calling him "Hat." Beca made fun of him, of course, which Dean took in stride, because it was their relationship. Now, she never let him live it down, sometimes calling him Hat at work in front of his dad's friends and the other higher ups, all of whom would look at both of them strangely. Mr. Wharton (she still didn't feel comfortable calling him Robert, even though he insisted) would always laugh, clapping both of them hard on the back, and say something about how he always thought his son's nickname from his college years was stupid, as well. She and Mr. Wharton got along pretty well after that.

"Oh, Jeeze, Beca. When are you going to let that go?" Chloe said, and Beca could hear her eye-roll.

"Did Hat figure out who his groomsmen are going to be?" Dean had been having trouble deciding just who he was going to ask to be his groomsmen, because he had a big family and a big group of friends. Narrowing it down to four was going to be very difficult for the man.

"Yes, he did. Finally," Chloe moaned into the phone. "His younger brother, Peter, is going to be the best man, of course. The other three groomsmen are going to be his friends Donald Bandari, Josh Williams—the guy who goes by Unicycle—and Jesse Swanson." Beca laughed when Chloe brought up another one of her favorite nicknames from Dean's old group of friends. Seriously, Unicycle? Apparently, the guy spent all of college riding around on a unicycle, hence his nickname. The final nickname that made her laugh so hard that she nearly peed her pants the first time she had heard it was Bumper. What the hell kind of nickname was Bumper? When she heard Chloe say the final name, she groaned. Her head fell back onto her couch, and she pouted. She had met Donald, Unicycle, Bumper, and Jesse at the same party where she had discovered Dean's nickname of Hat. Chloe had tried to set her up with Jesse several times after that party, because she thought that the two of them would be cute together and had a lot in common (they both worked in music—that was it).

"Don't say it, Chlo!" Beca could smell the setup coming.

"C'mon, Beca," Chloe whimpered. "Peter is married, Donald is married, and we both know that you would never date Unicycle purely because he still enjoys being called Unicycle by his close friends, but Jesse is great. He is cute, funny, and charming!"

"He is also an egotistical ass who is ridiculously nerdy and obsessed with movies. How many more times can I tell you that there is nothing gonna happen with us?"

"You two would be totally cute together! Look, Peter as the best man is going to be walking with Aubrey, as the matron of honor, down the aisle. Then, Donald and Jessica. Then, you and Jesse. Then, Unicycle and Ella."

"I would rather walk down the aisle with Unicycle," Beca muttered. She wasn't in the mood for the obvious setup.

"Beca, this is my day. I'm asking you to get over all of your bullshit opinions about Jesse and suck it up for my wedding. Please?" Beca groaned, but she couldn't deny Chloe what she asked. She loved the redhead, so she would do anything for her, including put aside her "bullshit opinions" about one Jesse Swanson.

"Fine." She said. She would do this for Chloe, but it didn't mean that she had to like it.

Three months later, Beca was seated in a big reception hall where Chloe's wedding was held. She had played the dutiful bridesmaid, fetching things for Chloe when needed, helping Aubrey plan the perfect bachelorette party, and dealing with Jesse during the rehearsal and other wedding party gatherings. She flagged down one of the waiters, grabbing a glass of champagne, and took a big sip. She was seated at the table where the wedding party sat near the stage and dance floor. She smiled as she watched Chloe and Dean dancing, along with most of the other guests at the reception. She wasn't the dancing type, but she was happy for one of her closest friends. She groaned when a familiar body dropped into the chair beside her. "Hey," Jesse said, grinning as he stole the glass from her hands and took a sip.

"Hey!" Beca pouted, reaching for her glass again. "Not fair, Swanson." She glared at him when he refused to hand the glass back at her, holding it high above his head (and hers). "I hate you."

"Aww! I love you, too, Beca Mitchell." He replied, winking at her. He downed the rest of her champagne, putting the glass down in front of her. She smacked his up arm, raising her hand again to call another waiter. "C'mon, Mitchell. It is customary for us to dance. It is a wedding."

"No." She said, not looking at him as she smiled gratefully at the waitress that wandered over to their table with a tray of drinks. She grabbed one, passing it to him, before grabbing another. "Here's to you not stealing another one of my drinks, since you have your own." She said, tapping the glass in her hand against his. She took a sip, savoring the flavor of the alcohol on her tongue.

"I was just trying to save you from a headache in the morning, Beca." Jesse told Beca as he sipped his second glass of champagne. "You know as well as I do that you can't hold your alcohol well." She glared at him as she took a sip of her drink.

"Shut up." She said in a very low, deadly voice. He just smirked at her.

"I never did tell you how much I enjoyed our first impromptu make out session, but I think I would prefer it if the next time it happens we—and by we, I really mean you—are completely sober, because we both know what happens when you drink too much." Okay, so she may or may not have gotten drunk at one of the many gatherings over the years where Chloe attempted to set Beca up with Jesse, and she may or may not have made out with him before throwing up on his shoes.

"I think I actually enjoyed the puking on your shoes thing way more than the kissing." She leaned over and pretended to whisper to him. "You should really work on your kissing abilities. You can practice on a pillow or piece of fruit or something." She sat back and took another sip of her drink.

"I've never had any complaints before, and if I remember correctly, you were pretty into it, until the whiskey decided to make its reappearance." Jesse said, leaning over to talk quietly into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "I remember you moaning slightly into the kiss, and even a 'oh, Jesse,' or two."

Beca turned her head so that their faces were barely inches apart. "Actually, the moans were from the nausea that resulted from the mixture of the alcohol and the fact that you were trying to gag me with your tongue. And the 'oh, Jesse' was just a warning of how much you actually made me want to hurl." She finished off her drink.

"The ceremony was beautiful, don't you think?" He said, changing the subject suddenly. She rolled her eyes.

"It was so Chloe." She glanced down at the short navy blue dress that Chloe had insisted that she wore. The colors that Chloe had chosen were white and blue. The bridesmaids had worn all different styles of dresses of varying shades of blue. Aubrey had worn a light periwinkle blue, then Jessica had worn a darker shade of light blue, then Beca in a lighter shade of navy blue, and then Ella was wearing a blue so dark that it was nearly black. "She picked blue because it brings out her eyes." She told him, rolling her eyes again.

"She looked beautiful." Jesse said, and Beca nodded, agreeing with him.

"Happy, too." She looked down the table cloth, a shade of blue that resembled Jessica's dress. "I don't buy into all this romance, wedding, live happily ever after bullshit, but Chloe does, so I agreed to be her bridesmaid. She is my best friend, so I put aside all of this crap just to make sure she had the best day. I also verbally threatened to cut of Dean's junk if he ever cheated on her or hurt her in any way." She told him seriously, making him laugh.

"I love this kind of stuff. I love the romance; I love the idea of finding your soul mate and standing up before everyone you love and declaring your love for them." She scoffed, looking at the dreamy look on his face.

"You are such a weirdo. I bet you get your whole idealized view of marriage and love from those stupid movies you love to watch."

"Movies aren't stupid."

"They aren't realistic either."

"So, what? Sure, there are a lot of movies that have no basis in reality, but what is wrong with using them as an escape or as an idea of what could be?"

"Jesse, if you base all of your hopes and dreams on works of fiction, then you are going to be sorely disappointed when things don't work out the way that you thought they would. The guy doesn't always get the girl. The good person who did one bad thing for the greater good doesn't get away with it; they get thrown in jail. The tiny girl who didn't have sex with another character doesn't have the physical capability to be stabbed repeatedly, thrown out a window, and then run for like a mile and a half before she decides to suddenly fight back against the serial killer that is hunting her down. That is real life."

"You are so jaded." Jesse shook his head, grabbing another two glasses of champagne from another waiter than wondered by. He handed the glass to Beca after giving her a pointed look that said 'don't puke on me again.' "It is okay to have something to look forward to. Sure, things don't always go the way they do in the movies, but sometimes they do. Look at Chloe and Hat. You don't think that they could live happily ever after? You don't think that they could grow old together and have a bunch of kids and be happy for the rest of their lives."

Beca's jaw tightened, and she took a huge gulp of her champagne. She refused to look at him; instead, she kept her gaze pointedly on the crowd of people dancing. "She deserves that; if there is someone that should have that life, it is Chloe." She licked her bottom lip.

"But, you don't think it exists?"

"Not for me. Like you said, I am too jaded for believing in fantasy. The only good things that come from weddings are the gifts and the cash." She swallowed the last of her champagne and stood up, walking away before he had a chance to respond.

Beca wandered towards her old Bella friends. Fat Amy had arm wrapped around her husband's arm (she and Bumper had hit it off at that first party, and they were now married and "living the dream"); Lilly was whispering to a small Asian man beside her, her boyfriend, who spoke just as quietly and similarly disturbing things like she did. Stacie was readjusting her breasts in her dress that barely covered much more than her nipples and fell barely low enough to cover her ass or lady bits, not caring that Denise, Cynthia Rose, their girlfriends, and probably half of the reception hall was staring at her. Jessica was chatting with Ashley, Aubrey, and their husbands. Chloe came bounding up on the stage, shimming in a little when everyone cheered for her. "Hey, everyone! I just wanted to thank you all for coming out share today with Dean and me. We love you all so much for it." She blew everyone a bunch of kisses, smiling broadly. "Now, the reason why I am up here is because it is time for the fun part of the evening! I am inviting everyone up here to sing a little something."

Beca groaned, shaking her head. Only Chloe would think it would be fun to have karaoke or whatever this was at her wedding. She rolled her eyes as the redhead looked pointedly in her direction. Beca shook her head. "No way, Wharton." Chloe grinned at the fact that Beca had called her by her new last name.

"C'mon, Beca! You know you wanna sing for me!" She said into the microphone, looking around the reception hall. "Wouldn't you all love to hear one of my closest friends in the world sing!?" The entire reception hall clapped. Beca continued to shake her head. "Please, Beca? For me, because you love me so freaking much!?"

Beca groaned before throwing her hands up in defeat. She walked up on the stage and stuck her tongue out at Chloe. "You are lucky I love you so much. Especially, because I am about to sing a love song for you and your new hubby." She rolled her eyes and walked over to the band, letting them know what song she wanted to sing. They grinned, nodding their heads. Beca made her way up to the microphone, taking a deep breath. Chloe had returned to the dance floor, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist, who pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Beca took a deep breath as the band started up. She kept her eyes focused on Chloe and Dean. "I love you both very much." She told them, waiting for her cue to come in. "Yes, even though Dean still continues to go by the freaking nickname of Hat. Loser." She added, grinning before she began to sing.

"The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And, the moon and stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love
To the dark and the endless skies

"The first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love
That was there at my command, my love

"And, the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine
And I knew our joy would fill the earth
And last till the end of time, my love
And, it would last till the end of time, my love

"The first time ever I saw your face
Your face, your face, your face."

Beca finished the song, and everyone in the reception hall began clapping. She rolled her eyes slightly, bowing her head in thanks before rushing off the stage, completely embarrassed. She hadn't sung in front of people since college. Chloe came rushing over, throwing her arms around her shoulders. "That was so beautiful, Beca. Thank you!" The redhead was crying, which made Beca tear up, as well. She buried her face into Chloe's neck, hugging her tightly back. She was so happy that Chloe had found her happiness with Dean. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was Chloe, because she was such a warm, kind person. They broke the hug, and Beca pressed a kiss to Chloe's cheek.

"Go find your hubby and do indecent things with him on the dance floor." Chloe laughed and winked, rushing off to Dean. Beca felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to find herself facing Jesse.

"Wow, Beca," he said, clapping his hands a few times. "That was spectacular. I didn't know you could sing like that."

"Yeah, well, I only really sing in front of my friends. This was the first crowd I have sung in front of since college."

"You have a great voice. Interesting song choice, too." Beca rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I don't peg you as the love song type. The Thong Song, now that just screams Beca Mitchell." She flipped him off and started to walk away. "Aww, don't run away! You know you love talking to me!"

"Not really, but you keep coming around, like a stray cat that you feed once so that it doesn't starve to death and die on your front lawn. It keeps coming back for more, no matter how many times you try to shoo it away." Jesse laughed, walking over to Beca to throw an arm around her shoulder.

"I think we both know that you enjoy it, deep down in that tiny, Grinch-sized heart of yours."

"What's a Grinch?" She smiled at the pained look on his face.

"Oh, c'mon. You know that you read the book as a kid; you can't even pretend to not know who the Grinch is." She loved hinting at her lack of interest in movies at him at all costs, considering how much he loved movies and what he did for a living.

"I didn't read much as a child." She shrugged, pulling away from him finally.

"You're…I…gahh!" Jesse groaned, throwing his hands up before wandering away from him. Beca rolled her eyes at his retreating form.

Jesse Swanson didn't know what it was about this woman that simultaneously attracted, intrigued, and aggravated him. It wasn't like Beca Mitchell was the most beautiful woman in the world, the sexiest, the smartest, the funniest, the nicest, or the meanest; he had met plenty of pretty, sexy, smart, funny, nice, and even mean women in his day. Hell, he had met plenty of women who had combinations of those traits, but Beca had a combination of all of those traits—well, maybe not the nice thing. She was witty, and she got him riled up. She figured out just the right kind of buttons to push, and he didn't know if he liked her or if he disliked her after their interactions. They had known each other for nearly three years now, and each time he had the (dis)pleasure of interacting with her, he was always left feeling confused and conflicted.

After he had left the wedding, Jesse took the cab back to his current stomping grounds, an apartment he was subletting from some random person he found on Craigslist. He had recently made the move across the country, and with only a month left on the four months of this sublet before the real owners returned, Jesse was desperate to find his own apartment. He had just gotten a job working for a small production company, BioTerra, as an assistant composer after doing his due diligence of assisting other bigwigs in New York City following his graduation from NYU. Now that he had this job at BioTerra, Jesse actually had the chance to compose some of his own pieces—sure, he wasn't in line to win an Oscar anytime soon, but it was a step in the right direction. He had hoped that by twenty-eight, he would have had one movie under his belt (aside from the student films that he had worked on in undergrad), but that wasn't the case. His goal was to at least to get his name in the credits by the time he was thirty. A guy could dream, right?

Jesse searched through his mail, seeing yet another bill from the storage unit that was holding all of his stuff from his NYC apartment, which made him groan. He hated not having his own place, because it was a complete waste of his money to store his real furniture while using the furniture of a complete stranger (he never brought people over, because this shit was fucking ugly). His cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket, groaning even louder when he read the name: Edward Danielson. He accepted the call. "Mr. Danielson, hey."

"Mr. Swanson, I was just calling to remind you of our appointment scheduled for Monday at ten in the morning. Mr. James sent your immigration paperwork to me following your change of residency to Los Angeles."

"Yes, I am looking forward to meeting with you, Mr. Danielson." They ended the call, and he tossed his phone to the side. He fucking hated dealing with immigration.

Jesse had scheduled to work from home on Monday, thankfully, because he wasn't sure how long the meeting with immigration would take. After his meeting with Edward Danielson, he felt like throwing himself off of a bridge, and he didn't know what he would have done if he had to go back to work after it was over. He couldn't believe what he did—said—in that meeting. He felt like a total asshole, and he royally fucked up for what happened in that meeting with Danielson. Jesse drove straight to the restaurant owned by his college friend Bumper and his wife, Amy, a friend of Chloe and Beca's, named by Amy as Tasmania. He had been sincerely concerned that he would be eating kangaroo the first time he ate there, but Bumper assured him that he wasn't serving anything other than the normal beef, chicken, et cetera. He needed to rant to people he was sure would understand where he was coming from, considering that Amy was born and raised in Australia and had to deal with immigration following graduating from Barden University.

He parked his car (one that he had leased, since he had no need for a car in New York City) and walked into the restaurant. Jesse couldn't tell if there was a difference between Tasmania and Outback Steak House, aside from the stuffed (hopefully, fake, but with Amy, you can't always be sure) Australian animals set up around the room and that there was a bar set up in the center of the open dining room. He waved to Bumper who was berating one of his employees in the corner of the room. He walked over to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila from the bartender. Bumper came over and dropped onto the stool beside him, nodding to the bartender to give him a shot, too. Jesse and Bumper clicked their glasses against each others before knocking them back.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Bumper asked Jesse as the bartender poured them two more drinks.

"I went to see my immigration agent today."

"Yuck. That shit was fun when Amy had to deal with all of that." Bumper said sarcastically.

"Well, my temporary work visa is up in four months. I tried to get an extension, but it isn't possible. I asked about a permanent green card, and I don't fit the criteria enough. I…just…uggh!"

"Shit. Seriously?"

"Yeah, and it's not like BioTerra is gonna be like, 'oh, we need Jesse.' No, they can find another person to do my job, so I am stuck with going back to Canada. Fuck, Canada." He said knocking back the shot. Bumper cocked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, so I love my home, but this is what I have wanted to do since I was a kid. I finally got to the point where I am within reach of my dream, and I have to go back?"

"Here, you need this more than me." Bumper slid his second shot over to Jesse. "So, what happens now?"

"Well, I kind of need to talk to Amy…I kind of screwed up, and I need her help."

"Yeah, I will go get her." Bumper stood up and left Jesse alone at the bar. A few moments later, he returned with his wife, the blond Aussie grinning and hugging Jesse in a way that had his face pressed into her boobs. It was awkward, considering her husband/his friend was standing about two feet away.

"What's up, hot stuff?" Amy asked as she sat down beside Jesse. The bartender slid a shot in front of her. Jesse quickly retold his story. "Shit! This fucking blows," she said, hitting her shot glass against his. The two of them knocked the shots back. The bartender dropped off another round of shots for all three of them. This was Jesse's fourth shot in a short time frame, and he was starting to feel kind of buzzed.

"Yeah, well, my story gets worse. I kind of screwed up, and I need your help."

"What can I do? I can get you my immigration lawyer's number, but there isn't much more I could do." Amy said, shrugging.

"Well, here's the thing. The first thing that popped into my head was 'Amy got married to Bumper, and she became a citizen.'"

"You didn't…" Amy said, her eyes widening.

"Wait? What? Amy is married to me, so you can't marry her." Bumper added, confused.

"He doesn't mean me." Amy told him, staring at Jesse. "She will never agree to it, Swanson. She doesn't believe in marriage and all that shit."

"I know! I don't know what the fuck was going through my head!" He groaned, dropping his head down onto the bar. "I am such an asshole. But, in a way, it makes her kind of perfect, because it is a sham wedding."

"Seriously, what the hell is going on?" Bumper asked.

"I was just sitting there, in that meeting, freaking out. Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Then, I thought of you two and your marriage, and I was like, 'I'm engaged!'" Jesse ran a hand through his hair. "Then, the agent asked me what her name was, and I said Beca Mitchell. Like, what the fuck?! Why did I say her name? Why of all the women I know in the United States did I have to say her name?"

"Oh, fuck." Bumper said. He lifted the shot to his lips and drank it. Jesse nodded his head, following suit. He was sufficiently buzzed now, so he ignored the huff from Amy when he grabbed her shot and downed that one, too. "Well, you were just at the wedding with her. And, you guys did walk down the aisle together."

"I can't believe you stole my shot." Amy muttered, crossing her arms and pouting like a small child.

"Ames, I think he needs it more than you. The guy just lied to the US government." Bumper whispered, so as not to attract the attention of the bartender. "He said he was engaged to a woman who he is not engaged to. What is he going to do?"

"I'm gonna call Beca and see if she and Stacie are willing to come to lunch. They were packing up her stuff and moving it to her new condo today." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly scrolled through her contacts to find Beca's number. The phone rang, and Amy grinned when Beca finally picked up. "Beca, hey, listen—wait? What? Are you kidding me? Dude, you can't be serious right now? Is she stupid?! Wait, don't answer that…it's Stacie." Amy pressed a hand to her forehead. "Alright, calm down. Why don't you come to the restaurant, Bumper will pay for it, and we can talk. The alcohol is flowing at Tasmania." She said, looking at Jesse who had his head buried in his arms on the top of the bar. "She's on her way," she said when she got off the phone with Beca. "This might not be the best time to talk to her about this, though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jesse asked, raising his head to look at Amy.

"You'll see."

Beca was beyond pissed at Stacie. She couldn't even look at her. She climbed out of her car, slamming the door behind her. She finally decided to splurge, buy a new place in the same gated-community where Dean and Chloe got a place. It was her first real purchase, and she was excited. She had saved and saved, and now she had her very own two-bedroom condo. Un-fucking-fortunately, Stacie was a stupid ass and left the fucking keys to the moving truck she had rented in the ignition and someone had stolen all of her shit, except for her boxes of records and her laptop and mixing equipment. Her bed, her dresser, her clothing, all of it: gone. Beca tried to act like she didn't hate Stacie in that moment, but the truth of the matter is that she did. She opened the trunk of her car to double check that all of her records and laptop and such were still there. If she had lost all of this stuff, she probably would have screamed.

After shutting the trunk of her car, locking it, Beca marched her way inside of Tasmania. She stormed over to the bar, ignoring Bumper, Amy, and Jesse (what the fuck!?). She dropped into the seat beside Amy and slapped her hand on the top of the bar. "I need vodka. A lot of it. Preferably the whole bottle." She told the bartender.

"We've been drinking tequila." Jesse said, running a hand over his face. She cocked an eyebrow, because his eyes were glassy and his nose was red. The guy was well on his way to drunken oblivion. "This would be my sixth." He muttered, knocking back the shot.

"What's his problem?" Beca muttered, throwing back two shots of vodka in a row, wincing at the burn it left in her throat. "How drunk are you right now?"

"I'm not drunk," Jesse slurred. "You're just blurry." Beca's eyebrows rose, because there was no way in hell this guy was going to be walking out of the restaurant on his own.

"Immigration shit." Amy answered for him. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't fucking know. I can't exactly afford to fucking buy all new furniture and clothing. I just spent pretty much all of my fucking savings on my new condo, and she left the fucking keys to the moving truck in the ignition!" Beca exclaimed, downing two more shots. She was no lightweight, but consuming four shots of vodka in barely five minutes wasn't exactly the smartest decision she ever made. She was already getting close to that blurry-vision thing that Jesse was talking about.

"Wow. That sucks…" Jesse said, holding a shot glass out towards Beca, who returned his toast. "To fucked up situations."

"Here, here." Beca responded, and they both knocked back their shots.

"Okay, time to cut you both off. Nothing more but water, Jim." Bumper said to the bartender, who nodded his head. Beca, Amy, and Bumper all jumped when Jesse slammed his hand down on the top of the bar.

"What the hell?" Amy said, pressing a hand to her heart.

"I just remembered something!" Jesse said, climbing off the stool ungracefully (read: falling off the stool). He walked over to Beca, his steps a little uneven, but not too bad considering how many shots he had taken in the last hour.

"What the hell, dude?" Beca muttered, sipping the water that Jim, the bartender, put down in front of her.

"Beca Mitchell," Jesse slurred, grinning at her. "I have a proposition for you that would totally save your ass and mine." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"What's that?" Using the top of the bar and the empty bar stool beside her, he lowered himself to his knees, grabbing one of her hands in his.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?!"

Author's Note: So, I did a little research on immigration and such, but I know nothing about this kind of thing, because I was born and raised in the US, and I have never been engaged to someone born outside of the US, so if I royally screwed up all of the green card mumbo-jumbo, I apologize. If I totally messed it up (aka Jesse could have gotten a green card on his own without an engagement), then bare with me, because for the sake of the story, he can't get it on his own, and he has to marry someone to say in the US. If you guys do know anything about immigration and engagements/marriages like Jesse and Beca's, that would be totally awesome, and I would totally appreciate the help!