Hey, Folks :)

So, I've decided to go on with Life of Beca Mitchell (The Sequel). I was editing the first chapter this evening when my playlist hit a particular song that gave me an idea. So, here it is; a short story of Beca and Chloe. Just a heads up, Beca goes to LA after freshman year, and Chloe didn't stay for three more years at Barden.

I don't own Pitch Perfect. This is just a little scrabbling from me.

Hope you enjoy :)

"You're crazy."

"It's fucking crazy."

That's what people always said every time we told them that we've been in a long distance committed relationship for a long time.

After you barged into my shower and kissed me on that initiation night so unexpectedly, I was hooked to you, fell head over heels, way out of my head in love with you.

We had our relationship for almost a year, and then after the final and you graduated, I went to LA like I planned to, and you went to Boston for grad school with Aubrey.

On the day you took me to the airport to send me off to LA, you bought two cheapest tickets for you and Aubrey so you could wait with me in the waiting room. When the first call for my flight came up, I held you tightly with my arms around your waist, and you wrapped my shoulders with both arms.

After having the I'm so not ready to let you go kind of kiss, you rested your forehead on mine.

"It's crazy to have a long distance relationship, Chlo." I said with my eyes closed.

"Let's be crazy then." You said calmly.

I opened my eyes to look at you. I remember the fond smile and the bright glimmering eyes on your face at that moment. It was just you being you; the bubbly optimist. Even up until today, I still wonder sometimes about how and why you could fall in love with me; the snarky pessimist.

Seeing you saying those words ever so lightly, I laughed, and you laughed. Then we kissed again.

Suddenly, my flight was already on the last call. I pulled backward from you, but I didn't let your hands go.

"We'll make time for each other, Becs." You said with your eyes teary. "We can do this. We're crazy enough to make this work."

I myself was feeling suffocated with sadness by then, and the only thing I could do was nodding with my jaw clenched tightly. Then you lunged forward kiss me on the lips again, and I held on to you tightly. I could feel it in my mouth, the salty taste from the tears that's streaming down you face. But I couldn't be more careless about it. I just wanted to savor every last second to be with you.

"Beca, you will miss your flight." Aubrey reminded us from behind.

We broke the kiss. With my thumb caressing your cheek, I said, "We'll make it work."

You simply nodded and stepped backward to let me go.

I knew that I had to go before I changed my mind about it. So, I picked up my backpack and say, "See you again, Chlo." I look at your best friend. "Bye, Posen. Please take care of my weirdo."

Aubrey chuckled and said, "I will."

Then I turned around and ran to the gate.

"I love you, Becs!" You yelled from behind.

I turned around and shouted back, "I love you too, Chlo!" After seeing your teary smile, I took a deep breath and proceeded to board the plane.

Now that, was four years ago. In the last four years we are away from each other, I've had a lot of tours, and you've been so busy with getting your master degree and teaching. We barely saw each other twice a year. I couldn't even make it to your graduation day. I was touring, DJ-ing around Europe for six months that time. The things that held us together were the constant messaging, phone calling, and video chatting.

Certainly, there were always temptations. Women who wanted me to get into their pants, and men who wanted to get into yours. Most of the times, it was easy to say no. However, there were times, as rarely as it was, we almost relented to the need in between our legs. Surprisingly, we never did. Surprisingly.

I have lost counts on how many times we wanted to end our relationship; how many nights that we thought we have had enough; how tired we were for crying over the phone because we were missing each other too much. Fortunately, we always took turns in having those feelings.

When I was at my breaking point, you would be the one to encourage me. And it worked the other way around. As hard as it was, we hold on. Simply because we knew that we're good for each other, that we wanted the same thing; us.

In this moment, I'm walking down the street with a wireless handset in my ear, and a beanie on my head, wearing a shirt under a leather jacket, a skinny black jeans, and a pair of combat boots. Both my hands are in my jeans pocket.

"I just..." You're crying over the phone. "I can't do this anymore. I miss you like crazy all the time, and work has been crazy lately."

You always say that when you are in distressed. I'm not shocked anymore. You've said those things for so many times in the last four years. The first time you wanted to break up, it was only in a year after we went our separate ways. I was beyond terrified. I booked a flight to Boston immediately to convince you to stay strong. I succeeded obviously.

"Four years ago, you said let's be crazy." I say with a teasing tone.

"Becs..." You cry. "I'm serious. I miss you like... like I could die if I don't see you in any second."

I chuckle. I know you're also such a drama queen. You always exaggerated your feelings; any feelings. Whether it is happiness, or sadness, or anger, or joy. And that is one of the reason I fell even more to you. The way you embrace life without holding back.

"Becs! Don't laugh at me! I'm dying..."

From the way you're dragging your sentence, I can tell that you're pouting right now. Even picturing you pouting is enough to bring warmth into my chest. I have to cover my mouth to suppress the sound of my laughter. Then I clear my throat and say in all seriousness, "Don't die now, Chlo. Not at least until I find someone else to replace you as a girlfriend."

"Beca Mitchell!"

You must me pouting furiously right now, and I have to stop on my track to laugh. While I'm holding the side of my stomach, laughing my ass off, you are scolding me from the other end.

"You are so, so maddening! Infuriating! I hate you!"

Of course you're not serious, and I don't take it seriously. I take a deep, deep breath to compose myself and softly say, "You love me. You always have, and you always will."

"Hmph!"

Another pout I believe.

"You're lucky I do!"

I simply shake my head and grin goofily. I just arrive at my destination. I lean my back against the wall in front of a familiar apartment, waiting for someone to walk in or walk out of that building.

In the meantime, I just let you pouring out your frustration. Apparently, one of your students got into a fight with an older kid today, and the older kid's parents went to school to yell at you.

I'm simply listening to you quietly.

Around five minutes later, someone walks out of the door. I slip and walk right in behind her. As I step into the elevator, I say, "I'm sorry you had a bad day, Babe. But you'll feel better in a couple of minutes. Trust me."

"How do you know?" You grumble.

"I just do." I smirk. "I miss you so, Chlo."

You sigh from the other end. "Maybe I should just quit my job, and go to be with you wherever you are."

You sound sad now. This is not the first time you offer this idea. You've been thinking and saying this for so many times since two years ago after you graduated. But I knew it then; you wouldn't be happy either if you had wasted your life, the primetime of your life, following me around the globe without doing anything else with your talents.

I was able to convince you though, time and time again. Every time you brought this up, I always told you that we should hold on to our relationship without sacrificing our dreams. However, this time, instead of convincing you not to do that, I ask, "Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent sure." You sound so determined as always. "I just want to be with you, Becs. Four years is long enough for us to have a long distance relationship. I'm sick of this shitty long distance between us. I don't want it anymore. I want you. I want us. Together."

"Are you really, really sure?" I ask as I step out of the elevator.

"I am completely sure."

"Okay then." I press the doorbell.

Chloe's POV

I hear the bell rings, and I groan. "Who the hell come to anybody's apartment this late?"

"How inappropriate. People are losing their manner each and every seconds. This is already eight PM, people. It's time for a redhead to sleep." You say over the phone.

Upon hearing your sarcastic teasing tone, I can't help but rolling my eyes playfully and chuckling lightly. You could always make me smile no matter how bad my day is. "Hold on a second. I'll see who the hell it is."

"Don't forget to give that fucker a slap on the head for disturbing you."

"Of course." I get up from the bed and walk out of my bedroom. "Bree?!" I call my best friend, but no response.

"Aubrey isn't around?"

"She must be out on a date with Stacie."

"Oh."

As I stand in front of the door, I ask, "Who is it?"

Nobody answers. I ask again, "Who is it?"

Still, full silence. Fear creeps into my mind so vastly. "Babe..." I whisper. "Nobody is answering, and I'm scared."

"Why don't you check who it is through the peephole?" You suggest in a whisper.

"Right." I say as I step closer to look through the small hole in the door, but it's dark. I step back and whisper to you, "The sucker is covering the peephole, Babe."

"That slick son of a bitch."

I don't know why you're whispering too. Maybe it's because you're pulled along in this intense situation. "I will grab something to defend myself." I whisper again.

"Be careful." You whisper back. "Don't turn off the phone. I'll call 911 the second you yell help."

"Okay." I go back into my room to get my pink fluffy night lamp. Then I put on my wireless handset in my ear, and shove my phone into my pocket. I walk back to the front door, holding the lamp tightly with both hands, and whisper, "Are you still there, Babe?"

"Of course." You reply in a whisper.

"Okay." I take a deep breath. "Here I go." I open the door and swing the night lamp at the person behind it with my eyes closed.

However, that person grab and take the night lamp from my hands. I cover my head with both arms and yell loudly, "Take whatever you want! Just don't hurt me!"

Then I hear a laughter, and it sounds so familiar.

"You're so fun to mess with."

I am stunned to hear your smug voice, and I open my eyes. There you are, with your 5'2" feet self, standing before my eyes, with a smug smirk on your face, and my night lamp in you right hand.

It takes me another second to lunge forward and hug you tightly, wrapping your shoulders with my arms. "You're here!"

You laugh lightly and rub my back gently with one hand as you say, "I am."

I break the hug and slap your arm. "Why the hell did you do this?! I could've hurt you!"

"With this cute pink fluffy lamp?" You are smirking with an eyebrow raised while holding up the said item.

I roll my eyes in half-annoyance and pout. "So, when I was scared the hell out of my mind in here, you were laughing your ass off on the other side of the door?"

"Trying to hold myself from laughing my ass off to be precise." You correct with a matter-of-factly look.

With a childlike upset look you love the most, I hug you again tightly.

After dropping the lamp down gently onto the floor, you hug me back just as tightly. "I've missed you, Chloe." You say ever so softly.

It's been almost a year since I saw you in person. There's no words that can tell how happy I am, how relieved I am to see you, to look at you, to hear your voice, and to touch you without any screen or device between us. It makes me cry again, and I'm sobbing onto your shoulder.

"There, there." You break the hug gently and wipe the tears on my cheeks with your thumbs. Then with a teasing smirk, you say, "You almost got me there, Beale. I almost died from being hit with the most frightening cute lamp."

I know you're trying to make me smile, but I don't. Instead, I pout and scold you with hoarse voice, "You jerk. Just shut up and kiss me now, jerk."

You bark out a loud laughter before leaning forward to kiss my lips.

I return the kiss hungrily, and so do you. I can feel you leading me backward into the apartment, and then I hear you kicking the door shut behind you.

However, nothing can take my attention away from kissing your lips, from touching your cheeks and neck with my hands. My chest is bursting, full, contented for having you in my arms again after all this time.

From the way you're nipping my lips, sliding your tongue into my mouth, biting my bottom lip, and wrapping your arms around my back tightly, I can tell that you've missed me as much as I have with you.

You're not even bothered at all to kiss me with my salty tasted tears in our mouth. It's not surprising at all. We've been craving for this for a long time, and nothing can stop us now.

When air becomes emergency, after a kiss that feels like a full beautiful sunny day, I pull slightly away and rest my forehead onto yours. My arms are still wrapping your shoulders, and I can feel your arms around my waist, caging me protectively.

I'm breathing heavily through my slightly parted lips, and so are you. I can feel your warm breath on my lips, and I can hear the sound of your deafening labored breaths. My eyes are still closed, but I'm smiling from ear to ear.

"Let's move to LA." You whisper.

I am completely taken aback, and I automatically pull back a little bit. With my eyebrows furrowed, I look at you in a complete lost.

Even so, you simply smile and casually explain, "I'm done with tours. I've got a settle job, I've bought a house big enough for us to start a family with a couple of little redheads, and I've found a school where you can teach music to a bunch of rugrats."

Before I can even say anything, you hold the small on my back firmer with one hand, and reach to your back pocket with the other one. Then you hold up a ring in between our chests.

This is so surprising, and I can't even do anything else other than looking back and forth between your steely blue eyes with the blue diamond ring. I know that my eyes are teary though, and the smile on my face has grown even wider. I don't think I've ever felt so happy and moved at the same time before.

"Say yes." You say, still smirking ever so smugly.

The marriage proposal, it's so you. No cheesy lines, no crazily long boring prologue, and no rainbow-sunshiny promises. It's not even a question. Just two words. Say yes. From the way you're saying it, I know you're completely sure that I'd say yes. My optimistic personality has finally rubbed off into you.

When I'm still frozen up, you just look at me with both or your eyebrows raised, and still with that pants dropping smirk on your face.

I jump and squeal, "Yes!" I crash my lips onto yours so hard. "A thousand times yes!"

You laugh lightly and smugly say, "I knew it." Then you take my left hand and kiss it before putting the ring into my ring finger. "Congratulations, soon to be Mrs. Mitchell."

"God! You're so cocky!" I exclaim comically. "I've never said that I would take your last name."

"You haven't." You shrug nonchalantly, yet still seem so charmingly arrogant. "But I know you. You want to be a Mitchell. To be my Mrs. Mitchell. That's why you stick with me for so long, no matter what a pain in the ass I am."

I bark out a loud laughter and say, "You know me best. And I do. I want to be your Mrs. Mitchell, soon to be Mrs. Mitchell too."

"Thought so." You raise your eyebrows two times with a smirk so smug on your face. Then you brush your nose onto mine and say with a husky voice, "I think we should celebrate our engagement in your bedroom, fiancé."

"Say no more." I reply and pull you into my bedroom instantly.