YOU GUYS ROCK. Glad I have you all guessing about what Beca could be. So far, no one has been right ;)

For chapter one, my tablet weirdly changed forest to "first" so I went back and changed all the grammar errors (or so I think) Sorry about that! Editing on that thing is ridiculously hard.

Anyway, here's chapter two! Things will pick up next chap!

(I DO NOT OWN PITCH PERFECT)


Chapter Two: Miss Mitchell

Walking home from your late night run is more on the creepy aspect of things and you're thanking your lucky star that you have Aubrey there with you to link arms while you venture through the ghastly silent streets of Barden without much protection. Lights are off, for the most part in buildings, houses and the dorms; it's not even breaking curfew, so you don't really know why Barden is so empty and quiet right now. Police officers are the only ones out, either walking with flash lights, inspecting campus for anything suspicious while parked police cars are found at every corner with even more officers patrolling undercover, looking for the same thing.

You and Aubrey wiggle your way pass all of them, even though they lecture the living life out of you multiple times, claiming that it's unsafe for two pretty girls to be walking alone this late at night and should go home immediately where you guys are not in danger. You appreciate the compliment and understand why more and more people are to the extreme cautious about everything going on, so you send them a understanding smile and agree to be safe walking around campus.

The irritation is still there, however, because as far as you know, it's only passing eight at night (which isn't even late like they're making it out to be) the same time you've been out on multiple occasions and not to jinx anything but you've kept yourself safe from Barden's kidnapper. Also, not to brag, but you're a tough cookie when you want to be, or have been pushed to that ticking point where you just can't sit and take something any longer without blowing up.

Just ask the guy who got a little too handsy with you during a mixer at a frat party when you specifically asked him not to keep his hands at your waist that passed dangerous territory and when he didn't listen, you verbally and physically put him in his place, giving that jerk a piece of your own medicine.

Or in other words, broke his nose a kicked him in the manhood.

No longer after that night did he even try to make eye contact with you and for classes, which you had three together with, stayed as far away as possible he could humanly get, scared that any interaction would end him up in the hospital.

Talk about something to be proud of.

So with that story, you know that you can put up a pretty mean fight and aren't as fragile and delicate as these officers are making you out to be.

Once you guys get through lecture central from every damn police officer out patrolling tonight, the both of you make it the Bellas' house and Aubrey digs for her key in her zip up pocket before unlocking the door. Expecting everyone to be busy in their own rooms, it startles you a bit to open the door and find a very concerned and maybe even a little angry Roxy, who is pacing the living room with the house phone glued to her hand right behind it.

You're just about to ask what's the matter before the sound of the door opening alerts Roxy and the relieved expression that washes over her face sucks you out of saying anything at all before she's opening her mouth to speak.

Or yell.

"Where have you guys been?!" Roxy borderline screeches this and she jogs her way from behind where you and Aubrey are standing to shut the door, locking it completely. Again, you're about to say something, mouth wide open to probably ask why Roxy's face is seconds away from popping every vessel inside but she beats you to it. "'Do you know what time it is?!"

"Eight?" You finally have the chance to answer and apparently it's the wrong answer to this question because Roxy hits her boiling point with her arms flailing side to side and she's ordering you and Aubrey to sit on the couch immediately, like you both just got caught committing a crime. Following your house mother's orders and not chancing your odds with being murdered if disobeyed, Aubrey and you take a seat on the couch, still as confused as ever with why all of a sudden Roxy seems so paranoid.

Thinking that it wasn't possible, Roxy's body language relaxes; the imaginary steam blowing from her ears have subsided and she's hanging up the phone to the house dock before taking a seat on the opposite chair in front of the couch where you guys are sitting. "I'm sorry," she apologizes and it seems genuine. You for your part is just wondering what it is exactly that she's sorry for (minus the whole freak out show that she just performed not too long ago). Either way, whatever has her up a wall is making her coo coo psycho. "It's just...nighttime around here isn't as safe as it was before. Hell, even walking in the morning or afternoon isn't safe but we do it anyway."

You take a side glance at Aubrey, who is already looking at you with the same confused facial expression as to where this is going. It's understandable to see other people freaking out about the missing girls around campus and how police and detectives have yet to find out who is the one behind all of them. But to see Roxy; a strong, confident woman so fidgety about being safe around campus is just weird and unnatural.

Everyone seems to be losing their damn mind being around here.

Aubrey takes the rope when replying to Roxy. "Uh, we were just out running. We...didn't expect to be out so late, but I guess we both just lost track of time." You nod your head while listening to Aubrey speak, defending her response because it was nothing but the truth. You do keep out the part involving a certain freshman that delayed your schedule to make it back home in time. Chances are Roxy would expect a full plot and background check if you were to mention that not only was Beca being suspicious out in the middle of a deserted forest but also, she carried a gun on her.

Oh what a show that would cause.

"I understand that you girls have a routine doing this at night," Roxy settles with, eyes starting to lighten and her body is becoming less tense. "But that was before there was a murderer, raper or….whatever he is out there taking innocent girls for his pleasure!" Her voice raises back up to a uncharacteristic volume and for once, you can catch a hint of fear laced in Roxy's words, which surprises you.

That's a terrifying thought; you already know this and know that being a female especially puts you more on the silver platter. Just to imagine you being in that position, facing the Barden's kidnapper in person and being nothing but hopeless. It's more than terrifying actually.

Roxy's eyes plummet to her lap where her hands are tangled around one another. "I already let one of my girls slip from my fingers to this guy. I can't lose you girls too," and like a knife jabbed straight through the heart, your breathing hitches when seeing Roxy so protective and vulnerable.

Silence fills the living room; you feel like a big pile a dog poo for keeping Roxy up so late, worried sick about where you guys were, and Aubrey you can tell by her flaccid body language and inability to look Roxy dead in the eyes that she probably feels the exact same way. You clear your throat to break that same silence, momentarily throwing away the feeling of possibly being the world's most selfish person alive.

"Sorry," you say, making eye contact, which is an all around dumb move because you can see that Roxy's eyes are misty from where the lamp's light is reflecting, giving off a glassy shimmer and again, for the second time tonight, you heart breaks at the sight. "Aubrey's right about losing track of time, we ended up stopping once we hit the forest-"

"Stay away from there," Roxy interrupts sternly and it takes you off guard by the quick demand. "Please...just," she stops, searching for the right words and you just sit, mouth open from being cut off mid sentence and waiting for what else Roxy is about to say. "Just stay away from there," Roxy mummers, finding no other words to catch the true meaning, but figuring this is enough to get her point across.

In general, the forest around Barden is pretty creepy, and that's just because of its physical appearance. The dead trees that never same to grow back with colorful leaves, the true deepness of how far the forest actually runs. There's never people just strolling along the dirt trails for fun; it's usually deserted and filled with only animals that can see you, but you can't see them. There's an eerie echo that comes along the deeper you fall in the forest and chances are, if gone deep enough, you'll end up getting lost.

And that's on a good day without there being a layer of thick fog blocking your sight where you can't see a foot in front of you.

So being aware of all this, you understand why there is invisible "do not enter" tape blocking the forest entrance, but never before was it taken to an extreme like it is now. Almost hitting a full month. That's all it took for a place to go from just creepy to basically being placed under quarantine.

In unison, Aubrey and you nod your heads and for the first time since you've walked through the door, Roxy throws you guys a small smile before sitting up from the love chair and making her way up the stairs and closing the door to her room.

"Wow," Aubrey whispers under her breath while the two of you stare at the empty staircase where Roxy once was. "That was intense."

You snort; the first time you actually came close to laughing in the past hour. Intense would be just an understatement after what you and Aubrey just went through.

"I'm going to bed," you announce, standing up on your feet. Feeling like your brain just endured a tornado of thoughts, along with emotions, you sigh out loud, ready to head upstairs and take a cooling off shower.

Aubrey follows in tow before bidding you goodbye, wishing you a good night sleep and turns in the opposite direction at the top of the stairs to go to her own room. Closing the door behind you, you fall flaccid on your bed, face first into one of your many pillows you have scattered on top.

This night has taken a toll on your body and you really don't know what to grasp from it. Roxy has reached total paranoia, along with the other residents of Barden. Beca has a secret; you're sure of it because there is no reason as to why she's be by herself in the forest during nighttime, epically carrying a gun on her. Whether it's a dark secret or not, you want to squeeze it out of her.

And also maybe ask for her number, take her out to dinner and maybe even become something more than people who are lucky enough to run into each other every once in awhile. That would be extremely nice and the total package, even only after just meeting the girl, but whatever.

Not the point.

But you also know that your chances with running into the freshman are very low, so that could put a dent in your plan real quick. Still though, you're destined to get behind the riddled mystery of Beca Mitchell if it's the last thing you do.


Morning comes around and you're comfortable, toasty warm submerged under all your blankets and peacefully sleeping like a baby when there are several bangs to your closed door that scares you half to death. You shoot up from being basically in a coma, hair knotted probably, eyes still squinty from sleep and you're sure there's a dry drool mark running from the corners of your mouth. The frantic bangs, however, make you care less about your appearance at the moment and you're rushing to the door in a hurry, hoping that whoever it is bothering you at such an early hour has a damn good reason for waking you up.

Opening the door, you're greeted by Jessica, who has always been one of your sisters to wake up early in the house, regardless of it being the weekend or a weekday, but instead of her usually cheery, bright face that she wears ninety nine point nine percent of the time out of the three years you've known her, you study the wave of pure panic that takes up every feature on her face.

"Roxy left!" Is all she says before shoving a piece of paper in your face to read and turns out, this is a pretty good reason to wake someone up this early on a Saturday morning.

Quietly observing that Jessica, as well, has some loose screws up top like everyone else, you take the note, smoothing out all the wrinkles and start to read the letter written from Roxy.

Girls,

I'm sorry for such short notice, but my presence is no longer granted here at Barden anymore. There's a whole world out there for me to see, for me to experience, and I cannot do that while being stuck here at Barden with you guys. Don't worry, I've arranged a few house mothers in the running to take my place, they should be there sometime this week. I've already met with all of them and truly, you'd be lucky to have either one. Please, and I beg you with all my heart, don't contact me after reading this. It's for the best.

Love always,

Roxy Anne

What the Hell? Is your initial thought when reading this letter from a known house mother of three years who just last night was throwing you and Aubrey a heart to heart about your safety but now, is claiming to not wanting to be apart of you and your sisters' lives anymore. There's many things peculiar about this random letter, especially the nicely handwritten cursive that made it almost impossible to read and something even your professors don't write with.

Was she born in the eighteen hundreds and wrote with a feathered pen?

The strangest thing though is to why all of a sudden? Why now and why not at graduation, or never?

Unable to truly believe this was happening, "ha ha, very funny Jessica," You laugh it off, handing the letter back to Jessica and set on this being some sick joke they're pulling on you. Ignoring Jessica's pleas to listen and that this isn't a joking matter, you march to the room where Roxy would stay in, destined to find your house mother laying on her bed, peacefully reading the morning newspaper and not half way across the country like she said she'd be. Unfortunately, that's not what you're shown with and instead, her room is cleaned out completely, empty and missing the one person you were hoping to find.

"What?" You're still at this point in shock, seeing the room as empty as it was when you first moved in and that there's even an echo to your voice with the absence of furniture and objects that took up most of the room. "How….why….I can't believe this," you stutter out, full on at a lost for words while you scan the empty room in disbelief. You even take the chance to close your eyes, hoping that when you reopen them everything, like a magic trick, will be placed right back to normal.

But that doesn't happen, and it's just as empty and Roxy-less as before.

"What should we do?" Jessica, being a big ball of emotional sensitivity is on the verge of tears and you don't even have to look at her to know this by the shake in her voice from behind where she stands like a shadow.

Snatching the note again, making sure that what you read is the actually thing, you mindlessly run to your room in search for your phone, dialing up Roxy's number, though the letter specifically told you not to try and contact her. Stubborn as always, you call her anyways , hoping that she'd pick up to answer some much need questions you have flooding your head.

"What's going on?" Aubrey comes into your room not too long after the line starts to ring and without answering, you throw the letter over to Aubrey for her to read herself.

It's on the second ring where the line goes dead, and the call is disconnected with a click. Seeing that the call failed when you remove the device from your ear, you try again, redialing the same contact and this time, there isn't even a ring before the automated robot voice, along with a strange series of beeps tells you that, "they're sorry, but you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

"She...left?" Aubrey reaches the end of the letter and you can tell by the scowl on her face she is more angry than worried, unlike Jessica, who is now crying at this point into her hands while she keeps her body up by the wall. "How dare she just….leave!" Aubrey barks with betrayal, then slams the letter into the floor of your room while you try for the fifth time to call the number assigned to Roxy's contact name.

"She isn't answering guys," you rush out panicked, hoping that every time you redial the number you'd get lucky and hear Roxy's voice instead of the same damn message. But with no luck, you eventually stop trying to get a hold of her, doing so is just becoming pointless and a total waste of time.

Flabbergasted is a good word to resemble how you feel this very moment, maybe even baffled at the thought of Roxy, someone who would walk through fire and back for her sorority girls just decided, out of a spur moment, to pack up and leave everything behind. It's something not like her to do, which confuses you more than ever.

Aubrey is ranting about what a pathetic skip Roxy is for leaving right when things get a little crazy and figures now would be the perfect time to bolt, leaving everyone else behind. Jessica is still leaned up against the wall as her eyes continue to leak unstoppable streams of tears, basically morphing into a catatonic state of disbelief you notice by her blank stare at the other side of the nude walls. You don't know what to do-what to say to ease the situation before the rest of the house wakes up and finds out about their beloved house mother.

It's inevitable, really.

But what you do know is that nothing would make the situation less worse than what is actually is.

"Maybe this happened for a reason," you say, breaking Jessica out of her zombified stare at the wall and cutting Aubrey's rant short. They both give you equally astounded scowls that make you feel like a complete idiot for opening your mouth at all, but you continue. "Whether she left because of the kidnappings, or left because she was unhappy here, she still is gone and we can't do anything about it."

"Like Hell we can't," is what Aubrey is quick to respond with, pulling out her cell phone from her pajama pants and dialing God knows who. Probably someone who will tell the blonde the exact same thing.

You wait to here the conversation and as you connect the dots by only Aubrey's say in the conversation, you were more than right about them not being able to do anything about it.

Turns out, Roxy sent the same letter to the board and president of Barden, fluffing it up a bit more and gave them a list of all the house mothers she scouted out for a replacement. Not one to clear up their schedules for a "little girl issue" and help find a house mother of a sorority house, who no longer wants to be a house mother anymore, they decline anything Aubrey has to say since under their belts they have missing students to think about. Whoever Aubrey contacted is about as much help as you'd fine asking a potato.

But there's nothing they can do, especially if there are already other house mothers lined up for the position.

Without them, it would be a completely different case if that was the problem and the Bellas were left stranded without a mother because if so, their sorority would be threatened to be overruled. They'd have to shut the Bellas down, everything they have worked so hard for, everything that came with being a Bella, just to move back into the dorms and be "normal" students.

And though this is a load of horse shit because you really liked Roxy as a house mom (or so you thought) you're grateful that the Bellas have alternatives to a shitty situation, so things aren't completely doomed.

Aubrey doesn't even say goodbye to whomever she is talking with before she ends the phone call and shoves the phone back into her pocket with so much rage you're surprised the device didn't shatter.

"Well?" you ask and wait, which is a bold move because Aubrey's already angry and asking this when you know the answer already is putting a large target on your back.

It takes a while but soon, Aubrey rolls her eyes, ready to explain the phone call to you and Jessica who has finally stopped crying. "Well, that was Barden's help line and I told them about the problem and pretty much, there's nothing they could do."

You keep the "I told you so" to yourself, not wanting to die at such a young age and patiently wait for what's coming next.

"I'm moving the rush to next week. By then, we would have met with all the other house mothers, picked one and things would be stable again. Chloe, please let the other girls know and tell them about... all this and…. the other stuff," Aubrey orders with a huff, her stressed out face forming and you hope no projectile vomit comes next.

"We are still having the rush?" Jessica asks, as if it's the stupidest thing Aubrey could ever say. "Are we just to go on with things and ignore everything that's happening? What about Roxy? What about the Bellas?"

"We can't just cancel the rush. Pledgees are already contacting me for applications and the hype about our rush is through the roof. Canceling would just cause a feud that I do not want to deal with," Aubrey explains gently because Jessica is at a fragile state and is extremely brittle with the information that Roxy is gone and never coming back.

"Plus, we will get another house mother. Will she be Roxy material? Absolutely not. But like I said, there's nothing we can do. It was her choice to leave and we all have to respect that," you chime in, adding the same gentle tone with your voice.

A new woman in the house can mean new adventures, new memories for the Bellas, even though they had a ton with Roxy. It would be different and take some time to get use to but eventually, things will flow back together. The situation as a whole sucks, and moving the rush to next week can cause some conflicts with other girls, but at least the they'll still have a party to show off the house, giving a taste of the Bella lifestyle and everything will soon go back to normal.

Or so you hope.


Telling the rest of the girls at a mandatory house conference brought you with a mouth full of questions you were unable to answer and a raging headache that you're positive will become permanent. Majority of their concerns revolved around the giant question mark as to why Roxy just left when just yesterday, nothing seemed to be bothering her and if you knew, which you totally don't, you'd be able to answer that question.

You for one are also extremely stumped on the real reason why Roxy decided that how was the best time to leave without talking to anyone first; it's more than a little strange if you're being honest. She seemed fine when you last talked to her, perfect even. You just wonder what it was that sent her running for the hills.

Anyways, despite all this drama floating around the house and fears of the Bellas being taken down, you finally calm your sisters down, reassuring them that everything regarding their house and the Bellas will be okay. Pledges will still tour the house; you'd still fill up the spots with newbie freshman, hold raging social events, throw killer parties, build their yearly Bella calendar and still have a great time throughout the school year. It wasn't easy, but after repeating yourself a million times that everything would be okay, the girls started to believe it.

It's your senior year dammit. No way in Hell is this little bump in the road going to put a hold on your last kick ass year of college.

Enduring the world's worst headache after dealing with a house full of insane chicks, you take a relaxing walk by yourself around campus to get some fresh air this time at a reasonable hour. It's quite while you walk and it gives you the time alone to just think about everything that has happened, lay it all on the table for you to examine. Truth is though, you're just as confused as the next person with everything that's happening and would want nothing more than some answers to all your questions.

That would would be the cherry on top.

As you walk, hands stuffed in your jacket pockets, your mind wonders off of the Bellas and you find yourself thinking about a certain freshman again, randomly. It has only been roughly around ten hours since you last seen her out in the forest, not even a full twenty four hours yet still, she fills your head with endless thoughts and you can't for the life of you shake her off your mind.

And in all truthfulness, you have absolutely no idea why, nor do you really care because Beca is something else worth spend a thought or two thinking about.

Sure, the girl is very, very attractive, probably the most good looking girl on campus. That's really a no brainer and anyone with a set of eyes could figure that out.

But when you add her car and rough personality to the mix, Jesus, you think you'd jump off a bridge just to talk to this girl one last time.

And lucky for you, that in fact happens during your afternoon stroll throughout Barden and you catch her sitting in the grass by her lonesome, smoking a cigarette and staring off into the cloudless sky.

She's busy doing her own thing, oblivious that you're switching routes from the sidewalk to the grass, making your way over to where she is sitting without an invitation. The closer you get once your eyes have adjusted, you note a laptop placed next to her feet, and she's fiddling around with it, cigarette dangling lymph from her mouth.

For a moment, you just stop and stare, adoring how calm Beca looks, so mellow and relaxed in her natural habitat, away from people. She looks beautiful, you conclude, as if you didn't already know this.

And that's even including the cancer stick she's inhaling into her perfect little body.

Strangely, you never knew smoking, though you hate it with a passion, could be such an attractive action that someone could do. She could probably pick her nose and you'd still think it was cute.

God, how pathetic do you sound right now?

But then again, it's Beca you're talking about, so it makes sense that that doesn't make sense….if that makes sense?

Oh well, irrelevant.

You eliminate the rest of the distance keeping you two apart and without a warning, the empty spot next to Beca is taken by you plopping right on down, making yourself comfortable as she throws you the nastiest scowl known to man.

You catch the light sound of classic rock playing from her laptop, Poison, you can point out and really, you should've expected Beca to be fond of this type of genre. Now all she needs is a motorcycle and bam, she warped herself straight from the rock culture of the seventies with drugs, sex and rock the n` roll.

"Whatcha doin'?" you ask all innocent and chipper and the size smile you have on your face is starting to hurt your cheeks. "Pointing your gun at any innocent bystanders lately?" The laugh you erupt with next, like you're the world's funniest Goddamn comedian, is really unnecessary and quite obnoxious for anyone to experience it.

Apparently, Beca thinks this as well and even though you're telling yourself to stop laughing because you're making a complete fool out of yourself, hitting the tip of the iceberg with embarrassment, you can't seem to settle down.

After staring dumbly at you for a bit, discomfort glowing on her features, "what are you doing?" Beca asks and the emphasis is kind of sharp coming out from her mouth, but you ignore her tone, for the most part, and toss her your signature, warm greeting smile that for once, doesn't have the same effect that it usually does on people.

"I didn't know you smoke," you say instead of answering Beca's previous question. It stinks over here, thanks to the nasty smelling cigarette and all the thick smoke that comes with it.

But being next to Beca is nice, and suddenly the smell of smoke is something you'd take over smelling nothing at all if it means hanging out with her.

Also, you can't help but be hypnotized by how hot Beca looks when smoking.

You mindlessly cross your legs over each other, keeping that same smile on your face the entire time while Beca just stares, blank and irritated, and you can't help but to stop and wonder if anything will be conversed during this time, or are you guys just going to have a full on staring contest.

Beca seems to settle with your added presence as you make it obvious that moving anytime soon is just not going to happen. The cigarette caught in between her index and middle finger is brought up her mouth, and she inhales a large amount before letting the smoke slip out like a ghost from the slit where her mouth is just barely cracked opened.

"Only when I'm stressed," Beca replies nonchalantly and you're so deep in a trance watching this girl smoke that it should be frightening, but you can't seem to look away.

"What are you stressed about?" Your voice gives an embarrassing type of raspy sound after being so caught up in watching Beca, so you try to cover it up by clearing your throat and ripping your focus away from Beca's lips to look literally anywhere but there.

And instead the kid who falls off his skateboard when he hits a crack in the sidewalk.

Silence immediately takes over besides the song "Smoke On Water" playing from the laptop; Beca doesn't answer your question and just continues to smoke her cigarette, ignoring all of life and your presence.

Figuring that Beca is not going to answer anytime soon, "Okay you don't have to tell me right now," you say reassuringly and curve an even wider smile, even though that wave of intimidation Beca radiates with hits you like a semi truck on the highway fogging up you head. "How about you tell me at dinner?" Like word vomit, the questions slips from your big, fat mouth before you could even stop it and Beca looks just as surprised as you do. This is so not happening like you planned. Continuing bravely, "we could go somewhere near campus, I could show you around?"

You start to feel your face getting hot after the blunt question you just dropped like Hiroshima because Beca is just eyeing you with a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow up to her hairline, making the whole situation more awkward than it should be and all of a sudden, you regret asking anything at all because you start to think about whether this girl swings both ways or not.

But you look at her appearance, even though you hate to judge a person by how they look, but you do it anyway, and could have assumed Beca has dipped her toes in the ladies pool every once in awhile.

She can't be completely straight can she?

God, where is your gaydar when you need it?

Beca opens her mouth to speak, "you're fucking cute, Red."

Yep, definitely not all the way straight.

And wait, did she just call you cute? Oh man, this is all way too much for you to handle right now and you don't know whether it's from the complement, or the confirmation that Beca in fact swings both ways.

Maybe it's a mixture of both, but either way, it has you turning into a tingling with joy pile of goo as you wait for an answer to your fate invitation.

"But I don't do dates."

And you think your body has never deflated so fast before in your twenty two years of living at the rejection and you feel as if the wind got knock right out of you. Did this really just happen?

"Or relationships."

Yep, sure did. Go ahead, Beca. Keep kicking your heart while it's down because she seems to be so good at it.

Baffled at the response and more than a little offended that you just got rejected by a freaking freshman, "and why is that?" Though your pride is practically shot at this point and the perfect option sounds like crawling down into a hole and dying, you curve a smaller half smile, acting like a no to your invitation didn't shoot you straight through the heart and you're internally bleeding away.

Beca twists her lit cigarette into the ground before shoving the remaining half behind her ear, just under her loosely curled hair. There's a deathly smirk somewhere you end up catching while you follow the cigarette back up to lock eyes with hypnotizing steely blues.

"My life is too…extreme for people. I don't think you would last long if I gave you a shot."

It should irritate-boil your blood that Beca just said this to you but instead, it motivates you, like she just gave you a challenge left open for grabs.

And you, being naturally competitive and loving a good chase for all the fun can't help but swoon at Beca's skit where she plays hard to get. Maybe it shouldn't be as attractive as it is right now, but in all truthfulness, you could really care less.

Beca sits up from the grass, closing her laptop while she stands and brushes off the strips of grass that happened to stick to her jeans. "You seem like a really nice girl who has a bright future and blah blah blah. Me? I wouldn't mix into that."

"How do you know without giving it a shot?" You retort back with and Beca doesn't say a single word, only blinking slowly, face stone cold and emotionless before removing her same pair of aviators from her jacket pocket and covering them over her eyes.

"Can I at least get your number?" You ask one last time before Beca makes the attempt to walk away, hoping this would be the one to check off the list.

"Don't have one," Is all she says before leaving you more frazzled than ever. First the lack of social media accounts and now the girl; a teenage girl who can afford a sports car can't even afford a damn cellphone. Where is the correlation in any of that?

"How will I find you then?!" you yell out in the distance where she is walking away, cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice. Luckily, it's at a high enough volume to catch Beca's attention, despite the large and new amount of distance separating the two of you.

"I'll see you around!" she responds back with, walking backwards and you can see that intoxicating smirk as if it's right smack in front of you.

You wish that it didn't affect you as much as it does; if so it wouldn't feel like you just got punched in the gut with rejection.

Beca's gone in the matter of seconds, walking into the student parking lot, probably where her car is parked. You release a defeated sigh, picking up a leaf next to you when you bring your knees up to your chest and crumpling it between your fingers. As you sit bummed, wondering what it was that you did to put Beca off so much, you examine the grass next to you and catch a newly opened box of Marlboro cigarettes.

You think about running to catch up to Beca, hoping that she hasn't already left yet so you could give her her cigarettes that, you assume, fell out of her pocket without her knowing.

But then you think about having this new item in your hands; something of Beca's, it gives you the perfect loophole to go out searching for her again without it seeming like you're a total creep.

It's dumb; Beca probably can afford a new box of cigarettes, especially with the hunch that she has a lot of money when remembering what her car looks like, but you're pretty much hopeless after just getting shot down. Maybe with this, you'll Cinderella this shit and flip the story, winning some alone time to hang out with Beca on a personal level and finding out every little thing there is to know about the girl.

Honestly, that sounds like a pretty good idea, so you stick the box in your pocket and stand up to resume your walk around campus, hopping the freshman doesn't overtake majority of your thoughts during.

But chances are she will, and you don't know if that's a good thing, or a bad thing.

And she does.


"Bree!" You shout from inside the blonde's room but just your luck, she isn't in there.

Aubrey doesn't have class until later tonight (joy on her part for already taking so many master's level courses) so honestly, you have no idea where she could possibly during a time where you have so much to tell her. Hearing the shower going off down the hallway and a retro, 80's playlist blaring against the walls, you now know exactly where she is.

When opening the door to the bathroom as steam from the hot shower clouds your senses, it causes Aubrey to stop mid lyric as she is belting the all time classic, "Wanna Dance With Somebody" and is peaking her head around the corner to see who it is. You give her a eager wave and she rolls her eyes before whipping her head back behind the curtains to resume whatever it was that she was doing, as if this is a normal thing the two of you do.

"I saw Beca again today," you slide in casually, closing the lid to the toilet seat and taking a seat on top.

"Ew, I'm sorry," Aubrey retorts and scoffs in disgust at the mention of Beca. Technically, Aubrey has no reason (though she claims she does) to dislike Beca as much as she does.

Okay, maybe Beca is a little bit on the different side as far as the way she dresses compared to the typical college student and sort of sticks out like a sore thumb.

But to make it out as a bigger deal than it actually is, like Aubrey is doing, that's so not cool.

And personally, the encounters you've had so far with Beca, this afternoon being marked number three, you can rightfully defend with evidence that she isn't as bad as her black leather jacket makes her out to be.

Right off the bat, Beca's hard to read. She's closed off, yes. Moody? For sure. Intimidating? Um, duh. A rebel? No doubt about it. Sarcastic, oh Hell yes!

Also,she wears a permanent stink face majority of the time. But really and if you wanna be blunt right now, which you are about to do, everything about Beca is really stinkin' attractive, and like some stupid, overplayed song on the radio, you just can't get her off your mind.

"She's so hot, Bree," you swoon saying this out loud and you hang your head up by the counter where you arm is resting, body morphing into a big pile of mush at the glorious image of all that Beca Mitchell is.

"You can't be serious?" Aubrey ask with disbelief to such a thing. "Seriously? And to think I once said you have good taste," she mumbles this just barely loud enough over the water, but you catch it and decide to keep the offence to yourself instead of dwelling on it.

"It's scary, it's weird, it's unnatural for me, I know," you say, listing all these off because even from a first person view, this is all new to you, too.

Whether it's on purpose or not, Beca is able to push all your buttons the right way and everything in your life is starting to not make sense anymore.

"But I kinda asked her out today, kinda embarrassed myself while I was at it because when I asked her to dinner, it totes came out more direct than ever. It's like...when I talk to her, my brain stops working and suddenly, my tongue feels way too big for my own mouth," you gasp all this out in a single breath.

"Do you know how crazy you sound right now?" Aubrey asks in all seriousness and of course you know how crazy all this seems.

And maybe it might just be the thick blanket of steam making you completely delusional, but something you know for sure is that Beca is interesting.

You take one look at her and it's like a thousand questions form. She's a rebel with an edge; a girl that your parents would be skeptical about and that is something that excites you the most.

"I asked her on a date and she said no." Your body sags at the memory, feeling more humiliated than you have ever felt before. It's not often someone says no to you and it's even more rare that you're the one doing the asking out. So, taking a chance and getting rejected stung more than a little bit.

"Okay, now I definitely know there's something up about that freshman. Who in their right mind passes up a date with you? Though I don't fully approve, mostly because I don't trust that midget," Aubrey says with a hint of protectiveness; her best friend instinct making an appearance while she reaches into her shower caddy and grabs her loofah.

You snort, "alright yes, the whole carrying a gun thing is a little….strange, but other than that, she's not too bad."

"Definitely not," Aubrey shoots you down. "There's something about that freshman, Chlo. I feel it when I'm around her."

You roll your eyes hearing this because really, Aubrey has only been around her twice; both of those times being very brief and she she was around Beca, all she did was bad mouth her. That does not give her the okay to judge Beca like she is.

"There's a weird aroma I get."

You agree on the weird aroma thing, though yours floats more towards attraction rather than suspicion.

"Whatever you do just please be careful," Aubrey warns as she turns the water off in the shower and pulls down the towel hanging up. "I don't have bail money if you get arrested."

"Do you think she's ever been arrested?" You ask while your mind sparks up at the image of Beca being thrown into the back of a police car, handcuffed and all. "Or has ever been in a fight? How bad and…..sexy would that be? "

Aubrey slides the curtain to the left, her toweled body tucked under her arms now in your line of sight pass all the steam and she has the most unamused expression on her face that it makes you cackle with a laugh.

"Unless you want me to vomit, I'm done talking about the midget," Aubrey declares, stepping out of the shower and wiping the fog from the glass mirror away with her hand. You stand from the toilet seat and watch Aubrey comb through her wet hair. "Also, I've been in contact with the dean and he said that interviews for house mothers will be done on Wednesday."

You groan quietly to yourself after listening to Aubrey explain when and where they're meeting the new house mothers and why it's important for both head sisters to be there. Lately you have just been unmotivated and sleep as your main priority.

However, you can't help but be excited that a new house mom is in the running. God knows how long you and Aubrey can put up with rearranging meal plans, events and financial bills before something ends up going terribly wrong.


Minus all the stuff about Roxy leaving and your sorority's rush having to be pushed back to Friday, you're having a damn lucky week.

And that's because as you exit your Russian Lit class, brain dead, exhausted and just ready for some dinner, you, for the fourth time now, are blessed enough to run into Beca.

You pat the inside of your purse, scavenging for a box of cigarettes that you ended up picking up and sigh relieved that you happened to have them on you.

Moving your feet in the general direction to where Beca is at, but not wanting to be rude and interrupt, you stop short behind a corner to wait until she was finished with her conversation. During this time, you admire her appearance from the distance, still as affected as you were the first, second, third and now fourth time seeing the freshman.

She's wearing a backpack this time, but still dressed like she just attended a funeral of Ozzy Osbourne, but nonetheless still hot as ever and also, she's talking to a professor, Dr. Mitchell, head of the English department and you remember slightly taking one of his classes a while back. You then wonder if Beca happens to be taking the same one you took.

The conversation isn't one you'd normal see with a student a teacher; Beca is pissed by the way her arms are flailing and definite red color in the face. Dr. Mitchell, as well, is far from being calm as one hand grips at his hip and the other is squeezing the top of his forehead while Beca talks, putting a lot of force behind her words. It seems to only get louder once the hallways start to clear out and Beca thinks that she and Dr. Mitchell are alone, not realizing that you're so totally eavesdropping behind a nearby corner.

Peaking your head out, you catch some of the conversation.

"This is ridiculous, Rebeca! All that shit your mother washed into your brain?! You're actually believing it?!" Dr. Mitchell practically yells this at Beca, spit flying from his mouth at each syllable and you flinch that a professor has the audacity to talk to a student like this.

Wait.

Mitchell.

Beca Mitchell

Dr. Mitchell?

Your eyes stretch wide as the dots begin to connect. Holy crap, that's Beca's dad!

"Like you fucking care, dad!" Beca barks back and without knowing answers your question for you, just in case you didn't already figure it out that Beca's dad teaches at Barden. "You left us! So as far as I'm concerned, you have no right to say what I can and cannot believe in!"

Dr. Mitchell no longer can stand still and he starts to pace back and forth, shaking his head distraught. "It isn't safe, Beca, all this that you're trying to do. You think you can just come down here and expect to get all the answers? Why can't you just move on? Live a life that your mother neglected you out of having."

Beca's body freezes, jaw falling to the floor with a squint to her eyes and you don't even have to know her on a personal level to infer what her dad just said was the wrong thing to say. You don't know whether to be scared for his safety by the look of pure anger on Beca's face, with her veins popping out, or worried that Beca is seconds away from exploding.

"Mom died, dad! Does that mean anything to you? Anything at all?"

"Of course it does, Becs, I loved her-"

"You have a real hilarious way of showing it," Beca cuts off in a lower tone, but the words were still cold and even you felt the harshness behind them from the distance.

Maybe this isn't a good idea, listening in on this meant to be private conversation. Beca just dropped a pretty big bomb about her mother that she may or may not want you to know (though you're positive she's more gravitating towards the not wanting you to know). Beca also, you can guess, doesn't have the best relationship with her father, and it's pretty obvious by the amount of screaming they're throwing at each other.

Dr. Mitchell takes the hit from Beca, his body deflating and eyes falling to the floor to break his intense glare with his daughter. "I just...I don't want to see you get hurt."

What comes next from Beca is surprising, as you were not expecting her to bark out a laugh, as if her dad just said the funniest thing in the world, head rolling back while her dad just stares, just as taken back by the action as you are. This goes on for a few seconds before she sobers. "It's a little too late to all of a sudden be caring about my safety."

And then she walks away from her dad towards the double doors, not even once looking back to see him physically shatter apart. He goes inside the classroom once Beca is out of sight and you're pretty much stunned with what your ears just heard and eyes just saw unfold.

What on earth was Dr. Mitchell talking about when he said he didn't want to see Beca get hurt? What possibly could hurt her on campus, other than being abducted by Barden's kidnapper? Everything wasn't making sense, much like a lot happening in your life. This time though you're destined to figure it out. So, you hike your purse over your shoulder and march your way outside, following Beca's footsteps to get behind whatever it was going on and involving her.


Again, things pick up next chap... Stay tuned my lovelies!