A/N: This is another fic I had just sitting on my computer for a few months. It will take place mainly during the first movie. I have re-written some scenes and added completely new ones. This first chapter is all background. It was supposed to be two be two chapters, but I know I get annoyed when I have to go through a few chapters to get to the meat of the story. So I just combined them. If you would like a musical accompaniment as you read I recommend the following songs as you read this fic in general:
My Best Friend by Hollywood Anderson, 2. Dancing On My Own (Cover) by Calum Scott, and 3. Moving On by Kodaline
Some of them might fit better as the fic goes on. I put them in order of events as well. As always feel free to comment, review, and ask questions. I hope you enjoy!
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The Friend (a Bechloe fanfic)
Chapter1: The Beginning and End
Beca was 12 the first time she was going to tell her best friend she was in love with her.
Okay, if she was being honest, at 12 she had no idea what that word, 'love', even meant. All she knew was that when Chloe looked at her with those insanely blue eyes of hers and one of her signature smiles Beca was all butterflies and sweaty palms. When Chloe grabbed her hand to pull her after her Beca felt a direct line that pulled at her heart. Surely that was love because that's how people felt when in love in the movies. Although Beca never saw one that involved a girl having said feelings for another girl, it had to work the same way. Right? Besides, Chloe and Beca had spent enough time curled up together watching romcoms every Friday night, while eating a plethora of junk food, for Beca to be sure that Chloe would know what she was feeling meant. Why just laying eyes on the redhead could turn the girl's frowny disposition into a blazing smile? Or how just one glance from the older girl could take her breath away?
That's why Beca found herself on the threshold of her best friend and neighbor's front door. She had to tell the older girl how she felt. And even though she knew it would possibly change everything between them Beca knew it would be okay because it was Chloe. The girl that could put everyone at ease. The girl that accepted all people no matter their background or looks. A girl who certainly understood feelings far better than Beca and probably most people she knew. So Beca knew Chloe would understand this and, most importantly, know what to do. The redhead understood everything else even when Beca didn't.
Beca failed to ponder further than her own feelings. She failed to realize Chloe commented on the looks of male actors far more than female ones. Or how recently Chloe had been mentioning the name Jason a lot randomly. In between seemingly longer than just friendly hugs and insistent butterflies Beca had failed to log these instances in her mental list of all things Chloe. She had instead focused on the small things that made Chloe hers. The things that gave her hope. For what exactly, she was hoping Chloe could help her figure out.
So Beca naturally bi-passed the detail when Chloe's mom told her the redhead was in her room working on a school project with a 'Jason'. That's why Beca found herself outside yet another door. She failed to notice the lack of a pattern common to the rise and fall of a conversation behind it. She failed to notice when a door that was always open was suddenly closed before her to barely being cracked open. Due to the fact that Beca and Chloe knew everything about each other, well minus Beca's recent feelings, and there was a no doors closed policy between them, Beca never considered knocking before opening the door in front of her. She never considered what she would see in that minute she spent frozen, smile and nerves quickly fading to something closer to dread and then heartbreak, afore mentioned door open before her.
Given all this no one can blame her when she ran. Really ran. Past her home next door. Past the park beyond. Past everything she knew until she could no longer run and collapsed on the ground. Tears coming soon after with the burning of her lungs and the images that were viewed in that room branded to the backs of her eyes. No matter how far the girl ran she could not out run the images of Jason and Chloe lip locked. His hands slowly exploring the curves of her best friend. An act Beca herself hadn't yet understood wanting to do. She didn't understand the sudden want to throw up at the thought of his hands on her friend or the slow turn in her stomach that felt an awful lot like jealousy.
That Friday as Beca sat next to Chloe, she scoffed at the rom com that flickered on the screen before them, the feeling of tear tracks fresh even though it had been hours since the last set of tears had fallen. She was more so mad at herself than the film, failing to realize the best friend never gets the guy let alone their best friend. Most importantly, that the girl never gets the girl. She thought it was stupid. Then a few weeks later Beca found herself on a different couch sitting next to two different people than Chloe. Again Beca should have seen it coming. Her parents never spent time together, let alone with her. She had been preoccupied with Chloe and her own stupid feelings to notice. She should have known what her parents were going to say. They were getting a divorce.
That's when everything really changed. Her father moved to Atlanta, Georgia with his girlfriend to take on a teaching position at Barden University. Her mom could not afford to pay for their home on her own, even with child support, and she honestly needed help. Finding out Beca's dad was cheating on her had really taken her on an emotional rollercoaster. Her mom needed help functioning from day to day, often loosing herself in thought and then tears. It was a lot for a 12 year old to handle. Throw in the feeling your best friend is slipping away, you're possibly loosing yourself, and your own heartbreak, Beca was no better equipped. So when after a month or two of struggling to get by Beca's mom announced they would be moving to Seattle to live with Beca's grandparents, Beca felt relieved.
Sure there was Chloe, but things had been changing between them lately and it was not solely Beca's doing. Sure the first week after she had seen her best friend with Jason Beca had kept her distance, trying to spare herself anymore heartbreak. Chloe had only insisted on pulling Beca closer, trying to penetrate these new walls the younger girl had put up. The redhead was well on her way to succeeding too until Jason was formally introduced to Beca. Until Jason started showing up at lunch. And at Chloe's locker in between classes. Then finally, taking up time normally spent with Beca after school.
Beca likes to think it wouldn't have been so bad, if Jason didn't drop kisses on Chloe's cheek and lips every time he appeared and disappeared. Or that he took the redhead's hand and walked her to class, a job previously forced upon Beca by the very same redhead now holding Jason's hand. Or that Chloe seemed to always need constant contact with him, an arm draped here, thigh press here, cuddle here, hands always interlocked, and bodies draped like blankets on each other. Then again Chloe was always a clingy person. She expressed herself through touches and hugs. The problem was they were not directed at the petite brunette like normal. They were directed at Jason. Beca tells herself she could handle it, she really could, if Chloe's smile wasn't so bright and Jason wasn't so nice.
Chloe wasn't a bad friend, quite the opposite. She came running when the brunette's heart broke the second time, after her parents split up. It almost felt normal, well minus the fact Beca was balling her eyes out. Chloe had pulled her to her, taking the brunette's hand in her own and rubbing Beca's back, holding the smaller girl in her lap. Beca had settled into a sense of calm made even brighter when Chloe pulled her just a little closer and planted a kiss on Beca's forehead. Beca's tears had stopped and Chloe had let Beca stay curled into her side as a rom com played in the background. Beca's main focus was on the fingers gently running through her chocolate tresses, completely at ease. That was how they spent several days after her parents' divorce until fewer and fewer tears fell until there were none and Beca felt almost normal. The younger girl was almost able to believe that everything would be okay in those moments. That she wasn't just 'the friend'. That she was the leading role. Her parents would get back together and maybe just maybe Chloe would finally see in her whatever she saw in Jason. Like it was in the movies. All that hope came crashing down once the tears stopped, Jason retook his place at Chloe's side with a kiss and an arm slung around Chloe's shoulders, pushing Beca back to her role of 'the friend'. The one left behind. The one the camera never follows. The one without an ending, let alone a happy one.
After that things slowly went back to how they were post Jason, Chloe slowly spending more and more time with him. Beca did not even bother telling Chloe about the move until the last moment possible. In part to save herself and in part because she was not sure if Chloe even cared anymore. For two full blissful days Beca had Chloe's full undivided attention, but she knew better than last time. It was only temporary. Jason was sure to pop up to replace her as soon as Beca and her mom drove away headed to Seattle. The petite girl used her time wisely, in between putting the final things needed to be packed away, cocooning herself in the redhead's arms, their fingers interlaced.
Beca's final night she spent in her old room with Chloe camped out on the floor. They talked extensively about future plans, as if Beca wasn't leaving the next morning. They talked about family vacations and prom. Every few minutes Beca found herself tracing Chloe's face with her eyes, trying to remember every detail down to the last freckle. All too soon time passed and eyelids drooped until both girls leaned into each other, fell into each other's arms, and fell asleep, hands firmly grasped by the other's. Chloe, unbeknownst to her, gave Beca the greatest and worst gift she could have. Two days exactly how she imagined being with Chloe Beale would be, well minus the kissing.
So when the day finally came to take off to Seattle, Beca felt mainly relief. Even after hugging Chloe goodbye. Even with the small tug at her heart that seemed to continue no matter how far she was taken from Chloe, the night before of what could be, imprinted on her mind. The invisible tether that connect Beca to those bright blue eyes and smile that out shown even the sun remained, but without the constant reminder next to Beca of just how beautiful Chloe Beale was. Without the reminder of how much the brunette was drawn to those blue eyes or ached for their owner Beca thought it would be bearable. Even though she promised Chloe she'd become the girl's pen pal or call the older girl with her new phone number and address as both girls cried and clung to each other desperately, realizing they might never meet again. She couldn't.
Beca never called. She never wrote. What would she say…
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In the six years that follow a lot changes for Beca. Upon arriving in Seattle, Beca's grandparents suggest her mom take up a hobby to keep her mind off things. Unlike most people, Beca's mom throws herself into work. Good news is her mom earns enough money that they are able to move into a loft within just a few months. She makes it seem fun to the now almost permanently sulky and grumpy Beca, a feat within its self. Beca looked forward to the extra time she would have with her mom. Bad news is after the first week it takes to move all their stuff in and unpack, Beca's mom is hardly ever around, adding to Beca's general distrust of those close to her. Which normally it would not be wise to leave a pre-teen alone to do as they wish, but Beca had picked up her own coping mechanism and it wasn't like she knew anyone anyway.
Beca's grandfather seemed to understand the pre-teen in a way that no one else did. He introduced Beca to her escape, music. When Beca and her mom first arrived, her grandfather showed her all of his old LPs. He played them each night as Beca and he sat in silence on the couch. The old man understanding that the young girl sometimes just needed a break from the world. He eventually set up the petite girl with her own vinyl player. The man gave Beca her first pair of studio headphones. Beca was allowed to borrow and play his LPs whenever she wanted. She had found, for whatever reason, when she played them they stopped the non-stop thoughts that ran through her head about a certain redhead, dulled the guilt that settled in her gut everyday she failed to call her, diminished those piercing blue eyes, and drowned the anger towards her father for those brief few minutes. It gave the brunette something to get lost in and before long she wasn't seen without the pair of headphones around her neck or covering her ears. The habit followed to the loft, where she was free to blast music as loud as she wanted, given their neighbors didn't complain, and let the base roll through and over her. The music becoming a part of her, taking up camp in her bones.
On nights when her grandpa knew for sure that her mother was going to be late getting home from work, he would stop by the loft. He always brought pizza or Chinese food and had a new record for Beca tucked under her arm. They would get lost in the music together, losing all sense of time, much to her grandma's dismay. Sometimes they would talk about different genres and bands. Other times Beca found herself opening up to the man in a way that she hadn't since before her new feelings for her best friend had surfaced. Her grandpa always knew to be patient in such instances, never pushing the brunette, just letting her speak freely. He was the first person Beca ever let listen to her mixes and he was the first person to ever tell her she had talent. He restored her faith in people just a little bit, but never enough to open up to or trust anyone else quite like she did her grandpa.
Outside of her grandpa, Beca spent hours online searching for new songs, until she came across something that so completely spoke to her, she not only wanted to listen, but produce the music she was hearing. Beca had discovered mash-ups.
Given the brunette's history it was really not surprising what she found so appealing about mash-ups. The ability to take something so pre-set and manipulate it and make additions or subtractions until something completely new was created was like a dream to Beca. She often wished she could do the same with her life. She started off making her own mixes with a really crappy free program she found online, which suffices her desires to create for a short period of time. Eventually she starts looking into getting actual mixing equipment with real programs. At around the same time her dad starts calling every few months, wanting to be a part of her life once again. It had been at least 6 months. Full of anger and bitterness, Beca subtly and not so subtly mentions the different items she desires, being careful not to show how much music, mixing, or her requested items mean to her. Sure enough one by one each item magically appears and before long Beca has a decent set up and a collection of mediocre to good mixes. The petite girl knowns she should feel guilty about basically extorting her father and she did sometimes, but she figured it was payments for her own version of therapy for how he had left her mom and, ultimately, her.
When school started up again, Beca now thirteen, she wasn't interested in making attachments, or what other people might call friends. Within the year, she had learned that those that are supposed to be around are never guaranteed to stay and that attachments hurt far too much to be worth making. She found a new use for her headphones, an excuse to not pay attention or ignore people that tried to talk to her. Within the first two years at her new middle school, she had almost perfected a scowl that probably would keep anyone away if she didn't have her headphones. Although she did not want to become friends with anyone, she found herself siting with the skaters in the back of the cafeteria and sometimes after school or on the bus ride home. They did not seem to mind her presence and even grew to like her. For although Beca was trying not to make friends, her general disdain for authority figures, due to misplaced anger, and willingness to participate and plan pranks had endured the people she sat with to her, without her even trying.
Soon she was being invited to parties and after school skate secession, where she would sit off to the side and put together mashes for each occasion. This lasted until the skaters she hung out with one day insisted she try a board out. She takes to it so naturally they officially adopt her then. From then on she is included in pretty much everything they plan or do. Although Beca would hate to admit it, she loves feeling a part of a group, almost like a family. Unlike, her previous relationships there are no confusing soft touches. The skaters are all arm punches, hair ruffles, and shoves as forms of endearment. Allowing Beca to safely remain untethered from anyone else, her first one still occasionally pulling, even after two years, at the thought of blue eyes and to bright smiles.
It is not until Beca starts high school that things really start going for her. The first thing that changes is her appearance. Puberty finally fully takes affect over the summer leading into her freshman year. Instead of knobby knees and a boyish figure, Beca is now all curves in a still, much to the brunette's dismay, petite package. Suddenly her predominately male group of friends appreciate her for more than just the way she handles a board or is able to hang with the guys, doing stupid and ridiculous stunts. Although they make their appreciation well aware, they still treat her the same, just with a few more flirtatious remarks.
Beca winds up finding her own style as well, borrowing pieces from the grungy skaters she hangs out with. Adopting their oversized flannel shirts, beanies, and shoes as her own. She would wear the same baggy pants as well, but given her slight stature, she would look ridiculous and instead ops for black skinny jeans and tank tops. At some point she starts listening to a lot of punk and steals pieces from there. Eventually upgrading her shoes to combat boots, adding a leather jacket, and starting her collection of piercings and tattoos. Her appearance only furthers her badass reputation and general 'don't talk to me' aura.
As Beca adapts so does her friends. Some going off to join sports teams such as rugby, others just staying the same, and a few turn into the stoners that sleep in class. Beca happily mingles with all of them putting her in the perfect position to start DJ-ing. Soon the stoners, with the help of some of their un-drug inhibited friends, start throwing raves. Beca, being the only person that they know who does mash-ups, is booked for every single one. Although, the first few kind of suck musically, Beca quickly learns and improves, spending pretty much all of her free time mixing. By her junior year she starts booking actual bars and then clubs at teen spaces, where she can play legally. By the end of Junior year and all through summer going into her senior year, the brunette is sneaking into 21 and up clubs for open spin nights with numerous fake IDs. She receives such notoriety that by the time she is halfway through her senior year of high school the clubs wind up seeking her out to play, ignoring her lack of ID.
Blue eyes and red hair still cause Beca to pause for a second, even going into her junior year, a whole 5 years since she had last seen Chloe. She is so use to it by then, she assumes it is just a nervous twitch. Her heart still pulls when met with just the right shade of blue, just short of the real thing. The pull is lighter after so many years, almost like an itch that just needs to be softly scratched before being discarded. Beca is not even sure why. It had been so long since she had seen Chloe, she was almost completely sure she had imagined the older girl. The DJ had failed to save any pictures of her childhood friend, not that there were many to begin with. The fact that Beca only seemed to see those particular blues, often accompanied with a bright smile and flaming red hair, in her dreams those days did not help the matter. All this leading to the younger girl having several brief conquests with a handful of blue eyed people. Beca preferred woman, but if the right shade of blue just so happened to belong to a guy, she was more than happy to use them to scratch the itch settled somewhere in her chest. Sometimes it could be quelled by just a quick steamy make out session and other times a little extra was needed. For some reason Beca stuck to only blue eyes, refusing to go near anyone with red hair. The tug wasn't any milder. There was just something that held her back.
Over all that time, Beca never forgot her role in the movie called life as 'the friend'. Even at the highest points, she couldn't shake the casting. She knew whatever relationship she tried was doomed to fail. The idea seems to be solidified when her grandpa passed away by unknown seemingly random events her sophomore year. Beca doesn't tell anyone. She refuses to even cry, only filled with more guilt and anger knowing she is not a thing to be loved.
The only indication of her mourning is a tattoo of a pair of headphones on her wrist. No one even questions its meaning. Most people assuming it had something to do with her interest in DJ-ing, which is what she would have told them if asked. Her grandmother tries to pick up where her grandpa left off, but the woman never understood Beca in the same way. She would have been able to relate if Beca was more interested in shopping and day spas, but she wasn't. Her grandma put in a solid effort for a good month, but it was too much for both of them. Beca somehow a little bit too much like her grandpa for her grandma to bare and Beca not interested in having her grandpa replaced. After the month stint, they went back to only seeing each other at holidays and occasionally at Sunday dinners. A year after her grandpa's death, her grandma gives Beca her grandpa's LPs and his worn leather jacket, that's not quite her style, for Christmas. That year Beca sheds a few tears for her grandpa, but only a few, for the first time, not satisfied that such a great man could be reduced to so few items. On bad days she wears the jacket and plays his favorite LP.
With the confirmation of her role with her grandpa's death, she kept her conquests to just that, never opening up, not even to her skater friends. That was until she met Jesse her sophomore year. He was everything she would never feel any type of pull for, all brown eyes and hair. They had started out as friends. He had eventually made it clear that he wanted more though. Beca had at first relented, but he was persistent. One night when she was tired of drowning in a sea of blue eyes and sorrow, the brunette took him up on his offer.
They started dating. It wasn't so bad. They both had a love of music, Jesse's having to do more with movie compositions, while Beca's was with beats and sounds and mixes. Somehow they had made it work until the end of junior year. The main down fall being Jesse's persistent pushes to make Beca watch movie after movie, a form of art she had learned to despise thanks to movie nights with Chloe, telling the boy she had never seen a movie in its entirety. A lie she used to drive home how deep her disdain ran. Jesse just saw it as a challenge, wanting to morph Beca into the leading love interest of the movie he stared in. The petite girl knew her place though.
Jesse had his own complaints involving Beca's perfectly crafted closed off walls and her in ability to show any physical affection unless it was arm punches or sexual. There were also some concern that the brunette girl was perhaps a little bit (a lot) more gay than bi. Even though they broke-up, they remained good friends. Little by little Jesse became Beca's best friend. Unbeknownst to Beca, in their new relationship, Jesse was able to glance at pieces here and there of what lay beyond those walls. He was the only person to see even a remote spec of who Beca really was since a certain redhead and her grandpa. He wasn't afraid of what he saw, quite the opposite. He knew his friend was hurting, still full of anger and feelings of abandonment. Jesse never told Beca.
As their senior year came to a close, Jesse chose college, while Beca planned to move on to another city, LA. The petite girl had gained enough notoriety as a DJ in Seattle that she had been given a few contacts by some of the clubs she worked for to call when she moved. Beca should have seen it coming, it fit the pattern of her life thus far. Upon hearing Beca's post-graduation plans, Beca's mom had called her dad. In an instant that Beca would have called a miracle given any other situation, her parents had agreed on one thing, something they hadn't done since before they were divorced. The thing in question being Beca's move to LA. Behind her back they had discussed the subject and thought their daughter should try college first. That DJ-ing was a hobby she could still do on the side. Beca protested with references in hand from the various clubs she had worked, much to her father's dismay. Neither one of her parents backed down, forcing them to compromise. One year in college in exchange for a one way plane ticket to LA with some spending money. Beca had agreed. That's how she found herself traveling to a Barden University with her best friend Jesse. A college she had no desire to be near, let alone attend. A University where a certain redhead with insanely blue eyes and a smile brighter than the sun, would be attending, undenounced to Beca. A girl the brunette wasn't even sure existed.
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A/N: I hope you liked the beginning. I have a few more chapters already written. I just want to space them out so I have time to proof read them and write new chapters. So if you like this so far, no worries, it will be continued!