So! My first Pitch Perfect fanfiction! Let me know what you think! If it's a bit rough I apologize, I am looking for a beta if anyone is interested.
As with all my fics, there's going to be a "soundtrack," though it's going to start after this introduction chapter.
I hope you enjoy!

XXX

It's just after one in the morning and Beca has sought refuge in the club owner's office, which is doubling for the evening as her green room. Having just performed a rather lengthy, intense set, she's in desperate need of a drink. Make it several. Performing well isn't make-or-break for her anymore, which, ironically, only makes her pressure herself more. She refuses to allow her career to do anything but progress, and performing some sort of "standard" playlist at any club is absolutely out of the question.

And this self-imposed high standard is how Beca finds herself absolutely swamped at the bar in the VIP section by highly-esteemed reporters, asking for her opinion on the current music scene, managers, offering their services since they find themselves better than the one she already has, and other producers, people who actually know who she is, offering to lend their advice to the advancement of her newly started record label. She's clutching her vodka and Redbull tightly in hand, smiling through bared teeth.

There's a difference between admiration from fans, which she craves, and the absolute feeding frenzy that ensues when people realize just how much money you could make them, which she detests. At almost every show, club appearance, or concert, there's a deluge of people who have taken a sudden and very greedy interest in her; there's hardly anyone who can offer what she seeks- good collaboration, or in the interest of her new label, fresh talent.

Teeth still bared in a pained smile, Beca takes a large swig from her drink and tries to focus on what the man in front of her, Mark Seward, of some-gigantic-label, is saying.

"Look, Becky," he implores, causing her to roll her eyes at the misnomer. "All we're offering is some money to pull your first big- hell, even mediocre- talent, give us our cut when you see a return-"

"Mark, I've told you guys I'm not interested." She retorts, working hard to keep her tone polite. As the bartender passes she signals for another drink, having finished her first in two gulps. This was going to be a long night if she couldn't manage to shake this asshole.

"Becky," he says patronizingly, flashes her a large grin. "You're a decent DJ, but what the fuck do you know about running a label? No one thinks you know enough about the industry to produce and market stuff. We're the only people interested right now." Fuming and having been granted her second drink, Beca takes a long sip, eyeing Mark over the rim of the glass.

"Have you ever noticed I've only mixed with one or two of the artists on your label? It's because they're relatively unscathed by your idea of artistic direction, the rest fucking blow, it's not like you've got some big secret to success," Mark's jaw is practically on the floor with her last remark. "Look man, I've tried to be cool before, but you know how not interested I am. You can't keep stalking me to shows trying to throw money at me, it's fucking weird." Beca growls, shaking her head when she sees how red his face has gotten. Sliding off the barstool she tilts her glass in his direction, just managing to hear his snarled insult of "fucking bitch" as she makes her way to a more amicable location.

She's just started on her third vodka and Redbull and looking around for her best friend turned business partner, Jesse, or even her assistant, when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Bracing herself, she turns around, only to be greeted by a rather well endowed chest. Groaning in annoyance, she directs her gaze upwards, her suspicions confirmed when she makes eye contact with the actress Tiffany Webber, an old friend with benefits that just won't go away.

"Becky!" She squeals, dragging the shorter girl up into a hug. Beca clutches for her drink to keep it from spilling, halfheartedly returning the hug as she begins to grope for her phone in the pocket of her blazer. This shit needs to stop- now.

"Oh my god, Tiffany, who would've thought!" Beca simpers, the sarcastic nature of her tone completely lost on the other girl. She quickly types an SOS group message to Jesse, her assistant, and her driver, before slipping her phone back into the pocket of her blazer.

"I know right, this is like, one of my absolute favorite clubs! I didn't expect you to be performing!" Tiffany enthuses, clutching onto Beca's arm as if she's just made some hilarious joke. Beca quickly downs her drink, hastily ordering another- heavy on the vodka this time. "Oh! Is that a cherrybomb? Those are your favorite, aren't they Becky?" The DJ laughs darkly to herself, for a split second making a face as if she might cry, before laughing again, in earnest, at her childishness. She attempts to pry herself away from Tiffany, who's now ordering the same drink.

"So, Tiffany, aren't you supposed to be shooting in, I dunno, Texas?" Beca asks suspiciously. Tiffany, who is currently mid-drink, snorts rather unattractively, and then wipes at her mouth before answering.

"No silly, New Mexico! But I've been down there so long, I had to get back to a good club scene," she sighs, gesturing to the surrounding area. Beca nods in mock sympathy, taking a sip of the predominately vodka beverage. She knows full well that Tiffany only left two weeks ago. "Plus, when I heard you'd come out of hiding, I couldn't help but stop by and see how you were doing!" She cries, poking Beca in the side with a rather sharp nail, causing Beca to simultaneously sneer- at the comment- and wince – at the jab. Across the bar, she catches the eye of a tall, familiar looking blonde woman.

"I haven't been hiding, I've been setting up my label..." Beca retorted, trailing off when she noticed the blonde had begun walking towards her. The other woman didn't seem to be too happy about approaching her, which is when it clicks.

Posen. Aubrey Posen. She'd only graduated from college two years ago with a degree in music and business management, from a top ranking music school, no less. And while she had Beca had already had their share of conflict, Beca admired her balls, and her intelligence. She breathed a sigh of relief as Aubrey drew even with her, eyeing Tiffany up and down.

"If you're not busy, Mitchell, I'd like a quick word." She quipped, glowering at Beca before taking a sip of whatever it was she'd chosen to imbibe in that night.

"Definitely not busy." Beca said hastily, gesturing for Aubrey to follow her away from the bar. Tiffany pouted and grabbed for Beca's arm in protest.

"Keep it in your pants, Webber, I'm not trying to fuck your girlfriend." Aubrey snarled, wrenching the girl's hand off of the DJ.

"I hate you, Aubrey, did you know that?" Tiffany replied lamely, flouncing into the bar stool that had been previously occupied by Beca. She pouted as the two turned to leave. Aubrey rolled her eyes and began to lead Beca away. Once they had achieved a respectable distance from the bar, Beca spoke up.

"She's not my girlfriend, she's practically stalking me." Beca grimaced, earning a particularly poisonous glare from the blonde. "But I can see you mean business, so… what's up?"

"Look, after what happened last year, I really don't want to be asking you any favors…" Aubrey began, scrutinizing Beca's expression as she went. "But I have someone that I think would be perfect for your new label. She's got some experience in the industry and she's looking for a totally different direction." Aubrey quickly produced a flash drive from her bag, holding it at Beca's eye level, who, unsurprisingly, made no move to grab it.

"If she has experience then why doesn't she keep on that track, I'm sure she could figure out how to swing it." Beca hesitated. It was apparent Aubrey was withholding information, which had piqued her interest.

"She would, but she's not allowed to. The label she's currently signed with is very strict about her maintaining the image they've created for her and she wants out."

"So why not quit?" Beca challenged.

"You and I both know it's not that simple," Aubrey muttered with an eye roll. "I'm not going to tell you who it is, but listen to this and get back to me."

"You've got to do a better job selling me on this, Posen. Why are you so interested in giving me talent, last year you were all about stealing it from me." Beca sneered, watching a flush rise in Aubrey's cheeks.

"Look, I realize things got kind of dirty, but this girl is my best friend and she's been put through her share of suffering, and now it's by her current label. And I mean extreme suffering, that's what this music is about. You need something unique, something that can change lives, and someone with a hell of a lot of talent if you want to get this thing off the ground. This is exactly what you need."

Beca wracked her brain, doubting very much that Aubrey could have actual friends. Looking at the taller woman, though, Beca noted a certain glossiness to her eyes, and a fierce blend of protectiveness and determination.

"Just tell me who it is." Beca implored, but despite her curiosity, she knew she would be listening to whatever was on that drive by the end of the night. Aubrey had a certain knack for sniffing out excellence. Aubrey gave her a crooked smile, knowing she had her hooked.

"Just give me a buzz when you're done with it, Mitchell," Aubrey grinned, pressing the flash drive into the palm of the DJ's hand. Looking over Beca's shoulder, she smiled a little wider. "Looks like your friend Jesse is here to save you from me." Beca whipped around, watching as Jesse tried to pry Tiffany off of him so he could make his way over to her.

"Actually I texted him to rescue me from her," Beca laughed. "But either works."

"Whatever, have a good night Becky." Aubrey retorted, using the nickname she knows the DJ so detests.

Beca watches her retreating form, slightly irritated when she notices Jesse pleasantly smile at the blonde and wish her a good night. Gesturing for him to hurry, she shoved the drive into her pocket.

"Have a good night with Mark and Tiffany, Becky?" he asked, ruffling her hair as soon as reached her. She laughed and pushed him, feeling at ease for the first time since finishing her set. She dramatically swallowed the rest of her drink and set the glass down on a nearby table before linking arms with her best friend.

"Jesse, please, let's get the fuck out of here."

XXX

"What did Aubrey want?" Jesse asked once they were safely ensconced in the back of her large SUV.

"To gloat and harass me about shit," Beca shrugged, absentmindedly fingering the drive in her pocket. "Oh, and by the way, maybe don't flirt with our arch nemesis next time, yeah?" she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. Jesse immediately blushed, but smiled.

"She's not all bad and you know it. She knows what she's doing."

"Yeah, I hope so." Beca replied absently, earning a quizzical look at Jesse, who just shrugged when he realized his sometimes mysterious friend didn't plan on elaborating.

XXX

Any thoughts are much appreciated!