A/N: This was initially an idea I had for a Faberry story, but I could never seem to get it to work for those two, and when I saw Pitch Perfect I just thought that the idea was perfect for these two. So, give it a read, tell me what you think. I'm aiming for 5-6 chapters in total, but will probably write more, so we'll see how we go.

Warnings: Femslash – if you don't like it don't read it.

Some smut at the end of the chapter.

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Barden had never been Beca's idea. It was, at its purest, her father's last attempt to cling to her before she entered the ominously dubbed "real world". She couldn't, in essence, fault him for that. But she could for his blatant disregard for what she wanted, especially given their, shall we say... "tumultuous" past. They had never really "gelled", in the familial sense. Beca viewed him as a restriction to her freedom, and the reason her mother's mental health never recovered – he viewed her as the one thing that tied him to an unhappy, dysfunctional marriage for many years longer than it should have. But, despite their many jarring differences, Beca had agreed, for once, to try his way. And, to put it lightly, she hated it.

Her classes were dull, her roommate never spoke and seemed to unjustifiably resent her, Jesse "the intern at the station" Swanson followed her around like a moth to a flame, and to cap it all off, her father had now insisted she join one of the many nefarious groups this deadbeat place had to offer. Maybe it wasn't right for her to judge the place on face value, but her brief venture into the activities fair at the beginning of the semester had left her with an unpleasant taste of bile at the back of her mouth, and the lingering smell of dying dreams and failure in her nostrils. Better, instead to remain in solitude and work on her real passion, DJ-ing.

Beca couldn't pick the exact moment she knew she wanted to be a DJ. She could give a rough timeframe, but no exact moment could be traced back to. As a child, living in what she thought was a happy family; music had been something that brought them all together. Whether it was sitting around her mother's decrepit old record player listening to old jazz standards, dancing around the kitchen to pop hits on the radio, or (she'd never admit it know) watching old musicals on the TV, music was something that all the Mitchell family loved. As her family gradually fell apart, the power of music was truly instilled in her being. Her father lost his love of music, its reminders of the family he once had were too bitter. Her mother never really recovered from the heartbreak of having her husband leave her. She slipped into mental illness like falling asleep – slowly, and then all at once. But still, the music never left her.

Beca's last memory of her mother before she passed away was of holding her hand in the hospital bed, looking out the window at the setting sun, listening to an old Frank Sinatra record. Beca wasn't old enough to truly understand what was wrong with her mother, and the doctors just told her that she died of a broken heart. It was that thought that was with her hours later when her father came to pick her up from the hospital, offering words of condolence but never going to see her mother. She kicked, screamed and shouted all the way from the hospital to her new home, where she fell into a fitful sleep. She couldn't understand why bad things happened to good people. From the minute she woke up, she had changed. She was guarded, resentful and sarcastic, the exact opposite of her former self. She listened to music every day, at first to remind her of her mother, and later to forget everything else. She coped in high school, but never made many friends, choosing solitude and her music over the company of others. She supposed it was this that compelled her father to send her to college – to "experience" life. And, alas, that "experience" was turning out to be more difficult than she had anticipated.

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It was gone midnight when Beca finally leant back from the screen rubbing her eyes and the notes of her latest mix ringing in her ears. She knew it was bad for her to stay up late mixing, especially when she had a morning class the next day, but when inspiration strikes... And she didn't feel too bad, since Kimmy Jin was also still absent from their room, probably off with her friends from the "Korean students community". She didn't really understand how something like a shared nationality meant that people will immediately become best friends, but, to each their own, she guessed.

Feeling sweaty and disgusting (and having absolutely no desire to sleep like this), she decided to head down to the showers to freshen up. Trying to her best to a)move quietly through the dorm so as not to wake those who were smart enough to sleep and b)ignore the sounds drifting through the walls that indicated that many people were NOT sleeping, she trudged down many flights of stairs to the communal bathrooms, where a long-anticipated shower awaited her.

The beats of her latest mix rang through her head on repeat, searching desperately for some way out. Absent-mindedly she began humming the notes to David Guetta's "Titanium" under her breath. The DJ in her was in equal parts awestruck and envious of this song – long desiring the chance to work with both Sia and Guetta himself. The lyrics to the song finally made their way out of her, and into what she believed was an abandoned (because who in their right mind actually showers at this time of the morning?) shower block.

"You shout it out, but I can't hear a word you say... I'm talking loud, not saying much..." Beca sang to herself quietly as she hung her shower bag on the hook and took off her gown.

"I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet... You shoot me down, but I get up..." It was fitting, really, that this should be one of her favourite songs, considering how well it described her relationship with her father. I am titanium, she often found herself thinking during one of his many "DJ-ing is not a profession" rants. It was as though this song had worked itself into who she was. Raising her voice, she turned the shower on, feeling the first refreshing jets of water hit her skin.

"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away... Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away..."

"You CAN sing!" Beca yelped loudly at the sudden interruption, attempting to turn and stumbling into the wall, shoulder jarring painfully.

"Dude!" Beca shouted, feeling herself becoming flustered by the intruder's complete, unashamed nudity. It was that red-headed girl from the activities fair during her first day at Barden. She'd seemed nice, but that first impression was now completely overridden by the image of her, oh god, NAKED body in front of her. It wasn't that Beca didn't like what she saw, but more that she didn't want to let the ginger girl know that. And having a virtual stranger burst into your shower was kinda creepy, not to mention off-putting. Beca could still feel her heart pounding against her ribs. The ginger, however, was not at all put off by the circumstance, pressing forward to turn the shower off as she spoke.

"How high does your belt go?" Lost in trying not to look at her body, Beca at first completely missed the question. Stumbling over her words, she spat out an answer.

"My what?! Oh my God!"

"You have to audition for the Bellas." Beca didn't know if the ginger girl even realised they were both naked. Her complete disregard for personal space seemed to indicate that, anyway. Beca was still pointedly not looking at the other girl's body.

"I can't concentrate on anything you're saying until you cover your junk." It was true; Beca was having trouble even remembering her name when faced with the ginger's perky breasts and washboard abs. Still, the red-head was not put off.

"Just, consider it." She seemed kinda desperate (Beca chose to think this in order to derail the train of thought that suggested that this was not the first time she'd unceremoniously interrupted another girl's shower). Leaning forward, she grabbed the shower curtain, pulling it over her body in an attempt to regain at least a little of her modesty. The red-head, again un-deterred, continued with her sales pitch to Beca.

"One time, we sang back-up for Prince. His butt is so tiny I can fit it in, like, one hand." Temporarily overwhelmed by the memory, she accidentally knocked the shampoo bottle out of Beca's hand. Letting go of the curtain to retrieve it, she pressed her body against the wall, trying in vain to cover up again. It was becoming too much.

"Seriously? I am NUDE." She emphasised the last word, attempting to channel her thoughts across to the ginger. Please cover yourself. Yet again, the red-head pushed forward, ignoring Beca's subliminal messaging.

"You were singing Titanium, right?" Beca was honestly shocked by the question – while admittedly she didn't listen to mainstream radio, she'd still assumed that most people didn't exactly have David Guetta high on their musical radar, not least a cappella singing red-heads with killer abs. Don't go there, she internally chastised herself. She hastily refocused her thoughts on the question at hand.

"You know David Guetta?" Smooth, Beca, smooth.

"What, have I been living under a rock? That song is my jam... my lady jam." She winked at Beca, who turned away, feeling herself blush at the decidedly not-PG images that filled her head.

"That's nice." She said absently trying to remove the image of the red-head in... that position from her mind. This is what teenage boys must feel like, she thought...all the time. If the red-head was at all embarrassed about sharing information of such a... personal nature, she didn't show it.

"It is... that song really builds." She added suggestively. Oh God, Beca cursed as the images filled her mind again. She didn't even know if she could look the other girl in the eye anymore without being immediately brought back to this conversation.

"Gross." She muttered, turning her head away once more.

"Will you sing it for me?" The ginger asked, not seeming to understand the implications of what she'd said. She's trying to have me killed.

"Dude, NO! Get out!" The red-head at last seemed to catch on, hastily back-tracking.

"Not for that reason. I'm not leaving here until you sing, so..." She stared Beca down, willing her to rise to the challenge. Reluctantly Beca turned back around, covering as much of her body as she could with the loofah in her hand. Trying to look anywhere but at the other girl, she began to sing.

"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose..." Beca's gaze was drawn back to the ginger as she to began to sing, effortlessly melding their voices as she took the top harmony. They sounded... flawless together, she mused.

"Fire away, fire away... Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away." The two girls stared each other down as they sang, not competing, but rather, connecting.

"You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium. Shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium." The red-head beamed at her as they finished, but Beca did not return it, awkwardly standing there after the pseudo-"moment" they had shared. Once again noticing the ginger's nakedness, she pointedly averted her eyes, and for the first time, the other girl seemed to realise their mutual nudity.

"Oh yeah, I'm... pretty confident about... all this." She gestured to her body. Beca's eyes, following the movement, were once again drawn down her body, and blushing, she looked away once more.

"You should be." She managed to choke out.

Now that they had been in each other's naked presence for several minutes, the ginger finally seemed to have the presence of mind to retrieve Beca's towel for her, which she wrapped quickly around herself. Not sure of what she should say, Beca allowed the two to fall into a semi-comfortable, semi-awkward silence.

"I was gonna... shower." She half-whispered into the silence, just as another figure turned the corner to enter the shower cubicle as well. The guy towered over them both, the kind of all-American stud she'd seen a lot of around the campus.

"You have a lovely voice." Who is this guy?! Beca vaguely noticed the ginger girl nodding to what the guy was saying. Unsurprisingly, she was not put off by his nakedness either.

"Thanks." Beca forced out. The ginger girl stood there smiling and looking between the two of the , before seeming to realise their location.

"Oh." She breathed, turning to leave, followed by the nameless guy.

"See you at auditions." She called over her shoulder. Beca incredulously watched them go, still coming to terms with what the last minutes had held. And she didn't even know either of their names.

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Thoughts of the nameless ginger girl invaded Beca's thoughts constantly for the next few days at Barden. When she slept, her dreams were filled with nameless, red-haired beauties. The dreams, both naughty and nice, left her aching when she woke up, and the looks Kimmy Jin gave her made her wonder if she spoke in her sleep. When she drifted off in class, her thoughts were overrun by wondering what the mysterious girl did, where she was, who she was, what she was like, on and on and on, until the lecture finished and she realised she had no idea what it was about. And when Jesse hit on her again and again, she couldn't help but compare him to the nameless girl, and what she'd be like at flirting. Then she'd wonder if Showergate (that was her nickname for the shower incident) was her attempt at flirting. Then she'd stop herself from developing that line of thought, and go back to trying to think of Jesse as someone she desired, over someone who was place filling for a girl whose name she didn't even know.

She seriously considered not showing up to the auditions for the Bellas. She didn't know if she could stand in front of that girl, and look into those startlingly blue eyes and not confess everything she's thought since Showergate. So when she shows up late, she tries not to let her heart race at the way the red-head lights up when she sees her, like she's been waiting for her. She fails.

She performs her song the whole way through without cracking, so she takes that as a positive sign of herself control. Also, she manages not to succumb to the all-powerful blue eyed gaze of her obsession, so that's Beca - 2, Satan – 0. She's honestly not surprised when she gets picked for the Bellas team (she's not being narcissistic, but what she'd heard from outside while running an internal debate hadn't exactly been stellar). She sees amongst the other new recruits the blonde Australian (who curiously is introduced as "Fat Amy") she met at the activities fair, and Lilly, a soft-spoken (too soft, really) Asian girl from her "Intro to Psychology" class (she did attend a couple times, yes). There's a bunch of other girls too, but no-one that she knows. And then there's the two from the stall. The high-strung blonde bitch, who introduces herself as Aubrey, and her infatuation, who she now knows as Chloe Beale. Chloe Beale. Chloe Beale. It felt good to say.

Aubrey and Chloe led them in a ridiculous pledge (the bit about the Trebles nearly made her laugh, because hello, the problem was right here in the Bellas.) and before she knew it, they were initiated Bellas, and they were being led down to a party for all the a cappella groups, where everyone seemed to already be drunk. She is lingering at the back, waiting for Jesse to return with her (hopefully strong) drink, when she sees quite a sight headed towards her – Chloe Beale, drunk off her face already, which is quite an achievement considering the short amount of time they've been here. The girl quickly makes a point of invading her personal space, pulling her so close that Beca's breath catches and she thinks they're actually going to kiss. She pulls back slightly, and Chloe speaks, carefully measuring her words before drunkenly forcing them out.

"I am so glad I met you... I think we're going to be really fast friends." Chloe doesn't relinquish hold of Beca's hands, even when Beca stands so as to increase the gap (and decrease the tantalising temptation) between them. Laughing awkwardly, she tries to shrug it off with a joke.

"Well, you saw me naked, so..." She winks, and Chloe giggles. Sad as it may sound, Beca honestly believes that Chloe's giggle is the cutest, most precious sound she's ever heard. Chloe runs her hands down her arms, and Beca fights the urge to shiver, feeling the excitement tremble beneath her skin.

"Right, well I'm going to go get a drink. This ginger needs her jiggle juice." She shakes her ass tantalisingly before walking away. Beca wonders if Chloe can feel her staring at her ass (in her defence, it was the only thing she hadn't seen so far) and sincerely hopes not.

Jesse, who has somehow become drunker since the last time she saw him, returns with her drink (it seems emptier than she expected, so she assumes that's why he's so far gone). He's cute when he's drunk, and she tries to focus on that, instead of the pain and jealousy she feels when she spots Chloe making out with some guy in the distance.

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Beca doesn't know why she agrees to the game of spin the bottle. But, she's drunk and she's upset (yes, she understands that Chloe is not her property and can't control what she does) and she wants to pretend that she has someone to love. So when they're sitting in a circle, giggling away and watching the bottle spin and spin, she decides she wouldn't mind kissing the cute guy that spun it. And when it lands on her she grins, kneels and pulls him towards her, pressing their lips together.

The kiss is sloppy, and wet, and not the least bit enjoyable, but all the same she smacks her lips and laughs, looking anywhere but at Chloe. The next guy she spins is much the same, and so is her reaction. The game continues and she's lost track of who she's kissed (except, notably, Cynthia-Rose, who, she notes, is excellent), until Chloe spins the bottle and it rotates slower and slower before landing on her.

She considers legging it, but knows that that would look more suspicious than simply continuing with the game. She feels everybody's eyes upon her as she kneels and leans forward, licking her lips nervously as Chloe Beale's face inches closer and closer towards her, before their lips finally meet. It isn't fireworks (she suspects her senses are too numbed by alcohol at this point to feel anything close to that sensation), but it's electric and the best she's felt in recent memory. She doesn't want to pull back, so instead of over-thinking, she just doesn't, allowing her mind and body to be taken over by the kiss. At some point she notices her fingers have tangled in the other girls hair, and vice versa, and it feels so... right.

She doesn't know how long she's been kissing Chloe for when the two are brought back to reality by an awkward cough by Fat Amy. Chloe's pupils are blown with lust, and before she reconnect their lips, she looks away, taking in the awestruck expressions on some of the guy's faces, and the confused on the girls'. The leader of the Trebles, Bumper, is the first to speak.

"Keep going!" Many of the guys murmur in agreement, and she considers it, before Fat Amy interrupts to tell them to "get a room, and let the rest of us keep playing". And when Chloe grabs her hand to drag her away from the group, to find somewhere private, she doesn't even resist.

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The door of Chloe's room slammed behind them as they burst through, powered by the alcohol and lust pumping through their veins. Beca slammed her mouth against Chloe's, her tongue entering the ginger's mouth as she grabbed and groped at any part of her that she could reach. There was nothing romantic about it, the two of them understood without a doubt that what they were about to do was have sex – not make love. Their tongues swirled together, the taste of Jesse's unknown mixed drinks passing back and forth between the two.

Chloe palmed Beca's breasts and she pushed her back against the wall, joined at the pelvis. It was rough, and pleasure rushed over heightened senses and through her body as she gave her body over to the other girl. Beca had her hands under Chloe's shirt, and then up her back, and before she even registered what she was doing, Chloe's torso was bare, shirt and bra both abandoned on the floor. Even while drunk beyond belief she still appreciated how beautiful Chloe's body was, and she told her so in a drunken slur while Chloe temporarily dis-attached their lips to attack Beca's neck. She moaned at the feeling, arching her back into the other girl. It almost scared how much she was feeling in this moment, even with the numbing effect of the alcohol and the crushing knowledge that this could never mean anything to Chloe. But she couldn't resist the temptation of trying everything the other girl had to offer, willingly allowing the other girl in turn to rip off first her shirt, then her jeans, and then be led backwards to the bed knees knocking out as they tumbled, engulfed in passion, onto the mattress. She flipped Chloe over – first she needed to give to this girl, to show her, without speaking, how much this really meant to her.

Chloe writhed beneath her at her touch, first her hands against smooth, flawless skin, exploring every inch of her body; then her mouth, clamping onto a nipple as her hands massaged the flesh of her breasts. Each moan spurred her on, each breathy mutter of her name mad her fall deeper. Dragging her lips south towards her centre, Beca felt Chloe's hands tangle in her hair as she guided her down, down, down. Beca dragged her tongue through Chloe's wet folds, then on to her clit; sucking and nibbling, as she brought her hand up and thrust two fingers into the other girl's pussy, more than content to feel the girl writhe and shake with pleasure as she came closer and closer and finally succumbed to orgasm, screaming Beca's name loud enough for the rest of the dorm to hear.

And as she let Chloe take her body in the same way, Beca allowed herself to be taken over by the wave of pleasure that snuck up on her and took her unawares.

And later that night, with Chloe still sprawled, asleep, on top of her, waves of ginger hair splayed across her chest, Beca at last allowed herself to let go, sobbing silently as the reality of everything crashed down upon her. Yes, she loved Chloe. Yes, she should never have let herself act on those feelings in such a definitive way. And no, Chloe would never feel the same.

And when morning came, and Chloe rose at last, Beca was already gone.