Pitch Perfect 1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys, this is my first fic, so I would love to know what you think. I plan on making this story very long-ish, so bear with me. It will not be find-your-soulmate-be-instantly-happy sort of thing. **

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own pitch perfect, so you can't sue. HUH! **

**This is for sunnywinterclouds for being an amazing Beta! Thanks, mate.**

* * *

_Bloop._

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6._

_Bloop_

_7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12._

_Bloop_

_13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18._

A drop every six seconds. That's ten drops per minute. That's fourteen thousand and four hundred drops per day. That's approximately 6000 litres of water wasted yearly. All because a human, somewhere, had decided to not take the time to make sure the tap was shut off properly.. And that's just one tap in one house. If we consider an entire town, or even a neighbourhood, well, I'm sure you can do the Math. _The human race is fucked._ Beca thought.

_Creak._

"God dammit Billy! What the fuck is going on here? The house is a mess."

"Well, hello to you too darling."

"You fucking drunk bastard. You just sit there on _my_ sofa in _my_ house all day doing shit."

"Your house? That's my house. It's my fuckin' money."

"What money is that? You don't even have a job."

"Yeah, well, they sure do pay you enough money to take care of your little brat."

"It's not nearly enough. Not when you keep wasting it on beer."

"I don't see the point of keeping her then. We take her in. We feed her. We let her go to school. And she's nothing but a know-it-all pain in the ass. I say we get rid of her."

Beca lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers idly fiddled with the necklace around her neck, holding the pendant between her thumb and forefinger. The heated argument was just background noise to her by this point. Her mind didn't register their harsh words anymore; she'd heard them far too many times before anyway. Besides, she had other sounds to focus on: the sound of the water drops as they collided head first with the solid surface of the sink and were, consequently, scattered in different directions; the creaking sounds of the doors as they were swung back and forth even with the gentlest breeze of air; and the slight whooshing sounds of a poorly treated TV. Yeah, Beca had other sounds to focus on alright.

A ray of sunshine slowly crept into the otherwise dimly lit room of hers through the otherwise impregnable window glass that was covered in a mixture of dirt, grease and slime.

Have you ever looked at a ray of sunshine? And I mean really looked at it. It pierces the stillness of the air in a long, determined and straight beam of light. It uncovers the secret party the very specks of the heavens are having until you can see them delicately gliding, floating, and performing intricate patterns in an eternal dance that we have always been oblivious to.

Beca didn't want to disrupt them and opted for just watching. Still twirling her necklace, she inched closer, and closer, to get a better look at the constant stream of particles, performing their well-practiced dance in their secret ball. To an outsider, it may have seemed that Beca was staring into nothingness. In fact, anyone who would have seen the sixteen year old laying on her side, tilting her neck slightly to get a better look at a ray of sunshine, would have thought that she'd gone mad. Not that Beca really cared what anyone would think. You see, Beca was one of those people who was blessed enough to truly say that they didn't give a damn.

It wasn't always like that, though.

Beca reckoned there must have been a time when the world had meant anything to her, when she had cared about people. _When people cared about me._ Beca thought that, yes, there must have been a time when she had believed in fairy tales, when the lines separating dreams and reality had been blurred enough that she couldn't tell the difference. Alas, it must have been too long ago, because Beca had no memories of those times.

She knew better now. She knew that the world would happily turn its back on a 3 year old that'd lost her parents. She knew that the world couldn't care less about a 7 year old being tossed around from one foster family to the other. She knew the world didn't notice the lingered gazes a 10 year old threw at every happy family she saw. She knew the world would never dry the tears that a 12 year old shed every night for not being wanted. Oh yes, Beca knew better now. Beca _definitely_ knew better now.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but a bright light caught her eyes and she looked down to see that the sneaky ray of sunshine had managed to find her necklace, causing the piece of metal to blink and shine. She brought the pendant up slightly to get a better look at it. It was a simple, dark, waning crescent. Beca softly traced it, running her fingers around the edges and back to the front. She idly thought back to all those times she'd executed those exact same actions. The necklace had been given to Beca at birth, and just like everyone else, she'd always worn it. It wasn't like she could take it off anyway. You see, Beca's (and everyone else's) necklace was very special.

Beca sighed. She'd heard that story a million times before, the one that took place when the earth was still flat. People looked like freakish barrels; they had two pairs of hands, two pairs of legs, and two heads. One (or two, if you think in the autonomic terms of the present day) person defied the Gods. The Gods were pussies and decided to rip all people in halves out of fear. People ran around like headless chickens, and died of heartache. The Gods grew merciful and gave us necklaces that glow whenever they near our other half's necklaces, and then the two necklaces merge into one. _Blah Blah Blah._

Beca had often thought about this story. Even she, the perpetual pessimist, had always found the notion of finding her other half fascinating. At first, she used to think that all her problems would magically disappear once she met her. (Yes, Beca knows it must be a her. Because dudes are, as Beca so gracefully puts it, _yuck!_) Beca thought that by finding Ms. X, she would finally find a friend, a love, a family, and a home. But again, Beca knew better now. She knew the chances of finding your other half were slim to none; she didn't even know anyone who had. _And besides, even if I do find her now, I'm too ruined for her to fix._ So, Beca stopped looking. In fact, one could even go as far as to say that Beca not only stopped looking, but also actively stayed away from all the paths that could ever lead to Ms. X.

Beca's stomach gave a loud grumble and as she glanced towards the clock, she noticed it was almost 6. With a shrug, she realized she had been ruminating on her existence for long enough. She slowly got up, stretching her sore muscles as she did so. She took a deep breath and let it out evenly in an attempt to calm herself down before opening the door to her bedroom. With a sigh of relief, Beca realized that no one was home. She headed to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and decided that a sandwich was by far her safest option, because she wasn't quite sure the food in the fridge was even edible anymore. And as she head back to her room, grabbed her laptop, pulled her ridiculously over-sized headphones over her ears, opened up a song-mixing software, pressed a few buttons expertly, and shut the world out, Beca thought that yes, she really didn't want to find Ms. X.

* * *

**So what do you think? R&R, please?**

**Also, I'm on tumblr: physicistsserialshipping. tumblr. com **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here we go, this is the second chapter. The response for the first chapter had been overwhelming to say the least. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read the story.. and extra thanks to those who took even more time to review and favourite. Honestly, it means the world to know that you've enjoyed something I wrote. I hope I don't disappoint with this chapter either. **

**The song used at the end of the chapter is The Origin of Love by Hedwig and the Angry Inch. **

**Many, many - many thanks to sunnywinterclouds for being an amazing Beta. This story would have never been published had it not been for her. I really appreciate it, dude! **

**Disclaimer: As much as I would want to, I, unfortunately, do not own Pitch Perfect.. Or the song... **

* * *

From around 93 million miles away from the Earth, 600 million tons of hydrogen nuclei per second were being converted into helium nuclei. The nuclear fusion rapidly happening in our star was sending innumerable, light-carrying photons to the entire universe. One particular resident of the universe, Chloe Jean Beale, was not very appreciative of the very complex nature of the reaction that was keeping all organisms on Earth (and other planets of the solar system, because come on!) alive.

_Come on._ Chloe whined to herself, shutting her eyes tight. _Just five more minutes, please._ Chloe offered the sun her cutest, most adorable pout, hoping it would bend to her cuteness. Unfortunately, the hopefully long-lasting conversion of hydrogen nuclei would not acquiesce to the imploring mumbles and protruding lower lip of a bubbly redhead.

Chloe groaned as a ray of sunshine knocked, none too gently, on her eyelids and stole away all hopes of more sleep. The redhead finally sighed in defeat and opened her ocean-blue eyes.

Sitting up in her bed, Chloe stretched her arms and gave a satisfied grunt as she heard (and felt) the popping and clicking sounds of her muscles. She reached down, right above her heart, and took the pendant of the necklace around her neck between her thumb and forefinger. Raising the half-sun-shaped pendant to her lips, Chloe laid a small kiss on its smooth surface. _Morning, beautiful._ She let the pendant fall back to its place, stood up slowly, and made her way to the bathroom. She opened the water tap and worked on getting just the right temperature, then splashed her face with water, reached for her toothbrush, squeezed out the toothpaste, and brought her toothbrush to her mouth.

_Brush your teeth, brush your teeth,_

_Give them all a treat._

_Brush up and down and all around,_

_To keep them clean and neat._

Chloe sang her well-memorized song in her mind as she continued to brush her teeth. After she was finished, she went back to her room, got changed, and headed downstairs.

"Morning sunshine. Slept well?" Chloe's mum asked as soon as she spotted her daughter. Jean Beale, née Granger, was still attractive despite being in her mid-fifties. Her bright red hair was kept short, and her green eyes held a certain warmth to them.

Sunshine had been Chloe's nickname since as long as she could remember. Everyone who knew Chloe would testify that the title was well-deserved. Like the sun, Chloe Beale was warm, energetic, and lively. She shone the brightest and radiated warmth and light that filled the hearts of all those around her.

"Morning, Mum." Chloe replied in her characteristically high-pitched, chirpy voice. "I slept great, thanks. I'm starving, though, what's for breakfast?"

Mrs. Beale chuckled softly. "There's some toast for you. Your dad wanted to wake you up for breakfast, but I thought we should let you sleep in, seeing as you were up so late."

Chloe grabbed a piece of toast, not even bothering to butter it before stuffing it in her mouth.

"So how was the party last night?" her mother asked.

Chloe swallowed hurriedly before answering, "Oh my God, Mum! It was amazing. It was Aubrey and me and like five or six other people and it was just so awesome and the music was loud and perfect and then that guy Chad, he's like the funniest guy on Earth and he has the best dance moves ever and –"

"Whoa. Slow down there, sunshine." A voice came from behind the two women, interrupting Chloe's long, rambling, and very detailed narration of the exact events of last night's celebration.

"Caleb!" The surprised exclamation was immediately followed by an excited squeal as Chloe turned around and got the confirmation that, yes, Caleb, Chloe's older brother, was in fact here. Caleb was just one year older than Chloe. He was a tall, lanky guy with the same radiant, Beale's trademark red hair. He had moved away for college a year earlier, and Chloe no longer had the chance to see him regularly. After Chloe's older siblings had moved out, it was just Chloe and Caleb. The two siblings were very close and Chloe had missed him dearly.

Caleb brought Chloe into a tight hug that lasted a good full minute. "What are you even doing here?" Chloe questioned as she pulled back from their embrace.

"It's good to see you too, sunshine," said Caleb, laying on the sarcasm thick. "Kyle and Marissa, Calvin, and Carl and Samantha should all arrive in an hour or so as well. Carl is even bringing Martin and Hannah along."

Caleb announced the expected arrival of the rest of the Beale's clan. Kyle, Calvin and Carl were all Chloe's older brothers. Kyle had graduated two years ago with an English degree. He had met his wife, Marissa, in college. Kyle had been nothing short of ecstatic about finding his soul mate, and as soon as he had graduated, he had proposed. Marissa, of course, had said yes and the pair had been living in Boston since. Carl was the eldest of the Beale boys. He, too, had found his soul mate. He and Samantha met in high school. They fell madly in love and decided to tie the knot four years ago, after they'd both graduated. Nearly a year later, Martin and Hannah were born to them. The twin brother and sister had been the latest addition to the family.

However, Calvin's expected arrival was by far the most shocking to Chloe. He was sort of the rebellious one in the family. After high school, Calvin refused to go to college. Instead, he opted to travel the world with the Red Cross. He was currently in Zimbabwe. Two months ago, the family had received a phone call from a very enthusiastic Calvin, claiming that he had found "her." Her being a beautiful French girl who was working with the Red Cross as well.

"What? Really? All of them?" Chloe was practically giddy with excitement. Chloe's family had always been tight-knit and Chloe enjoyed a very close relationship with all of her siblings. She didn't take too kindly to not being able to see them daily.

"Way too ruin the surprise there, Caleb," came the voice of none other than Mr. Beale himself. He, too, was attractive for a man in his mid-fifties.

"Sorry, Dad," Caleb offered as he grabbed a piece of the toast on the counter, not looking very sorry at all.

"Hey, that's mine." Chloe tried to snatch the toast back, but to no avail. Giving up on her breakfast and actually remembering her earlier track of thought, Chloe turned to look at her dad as he chuckled softly at the sibling's display.

"What surprise? Did you guys plan this?" Chloe asked.

"Of course we did, sunshine. We wanted the entire family here to see you off to college tomorrow." His voice broke slightly towards the end of the sentence. It was as if he couldn't believe that Chlo-chlo, his baby girl, his sunshine, was so grown up already. For Mr. Beale, it seemed as if it was just yesterday that Chloe had bounced up and down, screaming for a piggyback ride. He could still see his little girl whom he had spent the entire night comforting after the boys had convinced her that her tooth would never grow back again. He could still vaguely remember the eulogy he had written for Mr. Skittles, Chloe's late golden fish.

Chloe noticed how emotional her father was getting, and wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled into the warmth and safety that only her father's hug could bring.

"I'll always be your baby girl." Chloe whispered. Her father's arms tightened around her, lifting her slightly off the ground.

"I love you, Chloe. We all do."

"I love you too, Daddy."

No sooner had Chloe's arms slipped off Mr. Beale's neck, then he was pulled into another tight embrace. This time it was Mrs. Beale's arms that wrapped themselves around him. Both their necklaces shone brightly and they smiled softly at each other, love evident in their eyes.

"Our little babies are all grown up," Mr. Beale whispered softly as he turned to look at Chloe and Caleb, who both had tears in their eyes.

"Yes. Yes they are." Mrs. Beale put on her _proud-mama_ look and gazed at the two siblings lovingly.

"Aw, enough mushy stuff already," Caleb exclaimed, as he discreetly wiped at his cheeks. "You know I suck at those." The Beales broke out into a fit of laughter.

* * *

By the time the clock struck its pendulum, announcing it was now 6 in the evening, the entire Beale's clan was in the house. The whole place was bustling as the family settled down for dinner, sharing stories, reminiscing about old memories, and laughing at their own jokes.

"After dinner story!" Chloe, Caleb, Hannah and Martin all got out excitedly at the same time.

Carl chuckled loudly. "Some things never change, eh, Dad?" A soft smile graced both of the men's lips.

"Alright, alright! Come on, all of you. Sit down."

Within minutes, the floor of the living room was occupied by every single family member in the Beale clan. Carl, Samantha, Martin and Hannah were all tucked in together. Carl was leaning against the legs of a chair and Samantha had her back against his front. Martin and Hannah sat right next to their mother. Carl's arm was stretched as he enveloped Samantha and the kids into his embrace. Marissa sat somewhat in the corner of the room, with her legs stretched as Kyle laid his head on her lap. Mr. and Mrs. Beale sat on the sofa, waiting for everyone to take their place and settle down. Caleb and Chloe looked at each other, snickered, and sat next to each other.

"So, sunshine, what story do you want to hear?" Mr. Beale asked his daughter.

"The Origin of Love." Chloe clapped her hands animatedly. The Beale boys all rolled their eyes. Of course Chloe would choose this particular story. It was what she always chose.

"Glad to see some things will always be the same, Chlo-Chlo," Caleb snorted.

"Shut up." Chloe poked her sibling in the ribs. "I like it, okay?"

"Of course you do, sunshine," Mrs. Beale whispered. "The Origin of Love it is."

* * *

_When the Earth was still flat, and the clouds were made of fire._

_Mountains stretched up to the sky, sometimes higher._

_Folks roamed the Earth like big rolling kegs;_

_They had two sets of arms, and two sets of legs._

_They had two faces peering out of one giant head._

_And they could watch all around them and they could talk while they read._

_And they never knew nothing of love. That was before the origin of love._

_And there were three sexes then: _

_One that looked like two giant men, _

_Glued back to back, called the children of the sun._

_And similar in shape and girth_

_Were the children of the Earth,_

_Who looked like two girls rolled up in one._

_And the children of the moon_

_Were like a fork shoved on a spoon._

_They were part sun, part earth, _

_Part daughter, part son._

_Now the Gods grew quite scared of our strength and defiance_

_And Thor said "I'm gunna kill them all with my hammer, like I killed the giants."_

_And Zeus said "No, you better let me use my lightning like scissors,_

_Like I cut the legs of whales and dinosaurs into lizards."_

_And he grabbed up some bolts, and he let out a laugh,_

_Said "I'll split them right down the middle. Gunna rip them right in half."_

_And then storm clouds gathered above, into great balls of fire._

_And then fire shot down from the sky in bolts like shining blades of a knife._

_And it ripped right through the flesh of the children of the sun, and the moon, and the earth._

_And some Indian god, sewed the wound up into a hole,_

_Pulled it round to our belly to remind us of the price we pay._

_And Osiris and the Gods of the Nile gathered up a big storm, to blow a hurricane,_

_To scatter us all away in a flood of wind and rain, and a sea of tidal waves._

_And if we don't behave, they'll cut us down again _

_And we'll be hoping around on one foot, looking through one eye._

_The last time I saw you, we had just split in two._

_You were looking at me, and I was looking at you._

_You had a way so familiar but I could not recognise,_

_Because you had blood on your face, and I had blood on my eyes._

_But I could swear by your expression that the pain down in your soul_

_Was the same as the pain down in mine._

_That's the pain. Cuts a straight line down through the heart._

_We call it love._

_So we wrapped our arms around each other, trying to shove ourselves back together._

_We were making love._

_It was a cold dark evening, such a long time ago._

_When by the mighty hands of Jove,_

_It was the sad story of how we became lonely two-legged creatures._

_It's story of the origin of love._

* * *

**So, what do you think? Review, please? Reviews make my day and they let me know you guys actually enjoy this... **

**Also, I'm on Tumblr: physicistsserialshipping. tumblr. com. Let me know if you have any questions about the story or anything in general :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey there again.. I'm sorry this may have taken longer; life happened.. The updates are not going to be all that rapid during the upcoming month because I have finals but I'm not abandoning this.**

**To all the awesome people who read, favourite, follow and review, I salute thee! Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect. Seriously.**

**Thank you to my awesome Beta, sunnywinterclouds, who understands all the weirdness in my head.**

* * *

On a microscopic scale, billions and billions of centrosomes were migrating towards the poles of their respective cells. Infinite numbers of Microtubules stretched across the cell, attaching themselves to the chromosomes. The silence was deafening as each side waited for the other to make the first move. Like a true war general, the centrosome declared battle. The microtubules instantly initiated the tug war, pulling, stretching and pulling some more. The chromosomes were ripped in halves and torn away from each other. Each half was pulled so far away from the other that all hope to be whole again was diminished. The division rapidly took place, forming new cells. Together, cells formed colonies called tissues. The tissues aggregated into organs. The organs amassed themselves into systems, forming the epitome of their civilization, the human body.

Beca raised one dead arm and brought it down rather harshly, pounding the head of the poor alarm clock. _No, fuck you. Just shut up._ Beca gave a loud groan, and buried her head further into the pillows. The brave, oh-so brave alarm clock would have none of it, though. However the consequences, it had a job to do, and do it, it shall.

Beca gave a loud _Uugh_ that was muffled by her pillow. She slowly sat up. _Fine, fine. I'm up. Happy? Stupid fuck. _Beca glared at the alarm clock. She reached out to turn it off, thinking maybe next time she should just smash it with a hammer. And had Beca had the powers to communicate with non-living object, she would have seen the smirk that lay on her alarm clock's face, and she would have definitely smashed _the fuck_ out of it.

She made her way to the bathroom, wincing slightly at the constant buzzing sounds the abused electric lamp was making. She moved to stand in front of the sink, the top of her head the only thing visible in the cloudy, broken mirror that hung above it. Her hands reached out to open the water tap. She let the distinguishably brown water run down into the sink as the sounds of the faucet reverberated throughout the bathroom. At long last, the water became clearer. She put her hands together, and brought the makeshift basin to the water. _Finally! _She bent her head slightly and raised the liquid that was quickly slipping through her fingers to her face, giving a soft groan to protest its icy temperature. _Motherf—_

Beca made her way back to her room and pulled her permanently-packed bag to the bed. _What to wear? What to wear? So many options._ Beca smirked at her own sarcasm. She pulled out her worn-out pair of jeans, a black tank top, and a black cardigan. She put on her clothes, looked down at herself as a quick once-over, pulled her backpack over her shoulder, and opened the door to her bedroom.

A figure was huddled on the sofa in front of the TV. An array of cans that had once undoubtedly contained alcohol were scattered all around the room. Beca maneuvered her way to the kitchen, careful not to make any noises that could kick the sleeping man into consciousness. Beca needn't have worried though; the man, Rick, was completely out. Nothing short of an earthquake would have awakened him. Beca made herself a sandwich and weighed the pros and cons of pouring herself some orange juice, ultimately deciding to just drink the OJ from the carton. _Fuck it._

* * *

Finally, Beca made her way through the door, heading to _a place worse than Azkaban itself_ – school. She made it there at the precise moment the bell was announcing its daily taunt of _torture is about to begin_.

Beca made her way to the classroom, directly towards her usual spot; the seat in the back corner. She sat down and pulled her books out. There was a time when Beca's arrival to the classroom would closely be followed by whispered gossip, and an occasional snide remark thrown by _that one asshole who thought he was the living example that the Gods did something right_. By now, though, people have pretty much stopped caring. Apparently it's no fun bullying someone who _just doesn't give a fuck._

Mr. Finnegan was Beca's science teacher. He was an Irish man of around thirty five, and Beca thought he was a pretty cool guy… _except maybe for the fact that he was an accidental arsonist, who set fire to the lab every time they tried an experiment._ Some students used to make fun of Mr. Finnegan for his accent, for some reason, but they stopped soon enough. Beca theorized that they were probably just too busy plotting their escape routes in case he set the whole place on fire again.

"Morning," came Mr. Finnegan's voice. "Today we'll be experimenting with acetylene to show you the range of reactions that alkynes can perform. We'll start with the burning process."

"Oh, no," came the collective groans of every student.

* * *

The morning classes dragged on slowly, and aside from Mr. Finnegan singing his eyebrows off while demonstrating the effect of the oxyacetylene flame, Beca would say the day was pretty uneventful so far.

Lunch hour came soon enough. Beca found herself sitting alone on the furthermost corner of the room. She wasn't complaining, though – she liked it better that way. When she looked up to stare at the other students around the cafeteria, though, there was a guy making his way towards _her_ table.

_John._ Beca sighed. John Parkinson was your typical high school jock. He was the quarterback of the school's football team. He was dating a cheerleader. And he was, without a shadow of a doubt, _a complete fucking douche bag._

Beca lifted her food tray off the table and quickly got up, wanting more than anything to avoid him.

"Hey Beca," called John in a sing-song voice. Beca ignored him and kept walking.

"You look at me when I'm talking to you, you fucking emo dyke." Beca could hear his cronies – or, as she liked to call them, his babbling, bumbling band of baboons – chuckling at whatever it was that was so funny about him insulting her. Apparently, they found his uncreative insults quite amusing. Again, Beca chose to ignore them and just kept walking.

"That's right. Walk the fuck away."

Thankfully John decided not to push it. At least not today.

* * *

Finally, it was the last class of the day. _Math. Just fucking perfect._

Mr. Longbottom was a chubby, slightly accident-prone, clumsy guy, who wore thick glasses and bow ties to work. All the other students, at some point, had poked fun at Mr. Longbottom – _with that name, it's like he's just asking for it!_ – But Beca thought the man was alright. Sure, he was a bit of a nerd, but he was also the kind of teacher who had no problem sacrificing every minute of his free time to help a student. He made his way into the classroom, carrying a collection of papers and some over-sized geometrical figures, which promptly scattered everywhere when he placed them down on his desk. He then, of course, hit his head on the wood when he bent over to pick them up.

"_Loser,"_ someone said, half-way disguising it with the ever-so-cliché cough move. The rest of the students looked amused.

"Right, okay," exclaimed Mr. Longbottom, after finally succeeding in collecting all the papers. "Today we'll be talking about integration…"

Beca drowned out his voice, something she'd become rather of an expert at. Instead of listening to her teacher's words, she focused on the sound of the chalk as it dwindled every time its tip was dragged along the black board. When mixed with the slight scraping sounds of the chairs as they were pulled back and forth with their shifting occupants, the resulting noise was astonishing. Beca's mind often ventured into its own little world like this. Her mind heard the music in everything. The sounds that people so often neglect, look over, or deem unworthy were often those that Beca found herself obsessing over. Together, they made the greatest symphony. The symphony of all symphonies. _Talk about a fucking cheese ball._

* * *

The sound of the bell pulled Beca out of her trance and she looked around to see that people were already heading out of the door. _Freedom, finally!_ She quietly got up, gathered her things, and was slowly making her way out of the classroom when Mr. Longbottom's voice stopped her.

"Beca, wait a minute. Can I talk to you?"

Beca wanted to roll her eyes so badly, but she didn't want to give the man a hard time. _He gets that enough._

"Umm, sure," she muttered, as she sat down at waited for him to get this over with.

"I want to talk to you about your grades."

Beca frowned slightly. She thought her grades were fine.

Mr. Longbottom must have guessed what she was thinking, because he quickly added, "Not like that. Your grades are good. More than good, actually; your grades are excellent. I know you just started school here this year, but I've been talking to some teachers and you've been getting straight A's all year long."

His tone of surprise slightly offended Beca. _What does that even mean? I'm smart, you know._

"I've also managed to sneak a peek at your transcripts from your previous schools. Despite changing schools quite often, your GPA has been a constant 4.0. This is really huge, Beca. What are your plans for college?"

When she didn't answer, Mr. Longbottom quickly added, "Your music teacher tells me you're a natural with all instruments. Have you thought of perhaps getting a degree in music?"

"Umm, I dunno," Beca said, her voice barely above a whisper. _College?_

"Well, you may or may not know this, but I am a graduate of Barden University."

_Barden? Like best music program in the country Barden?_ Beca's eyes widened slightly.

"I've been talking to a few people over there and they're really interested in you. Personally, I think you can easily get a full ride to Barden. All you have to do is apply."

_Is this man for real?!_ Beca must have voiced that one out loud, because Mr. Longbottom chuckled.

"You're a great student, Beca, and a great person. Any school would be lucky to have you. Just think about it, okay?" He reached into his enormous stack of papers and passed a little brochure over to Beca.

_Barden University,_ she read off the cover. She looked up at Mr. Longbottom, and smiled softly.

"Thank you. A lot. No one… no one has ever really done anything like this for me, so thank you."

"You are most welcome. Look, Beca, this may seem a bit unprofessional, but if you ever need someone to talk to, you can come to me, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're free to go now."

Beca got up, still in a daze. _What just happened?_

* * *

She made her way, almost mechanically, out of school and headed towards the music store where she was employed. Beca had started working there after she had moved in with her newest family earlier in the year. The store wasn't exactly anything big, but the owner, Mr. Oakley, was a sweet man who let Beca try as many instruments as she liked. He even taught her how to play the guitar.

The bell atop the shop's door rang as Beca stepped inside.

"Ah, Beca, great timing. Can you help Ms Hannah here with something? She would like to purchase a guitar and isn't quite sure what she wants."

"Sure, no problem," Beca said, and got to work.

* * *

Hours later, as the clock announced the time as 7 o'clock, Mr. Oakley said, "Good job today, Beca. Will you be okay walking home alone?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Okay, then. See you tomorrow, kid."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Beca made her way out of the shop and started walking home. Halfway through, she looked at her watch and saw that it was almost eight. _Ah, fuck._ She didn't really have time to go back home. Instead, she changed her destination slightly and headed for the open field across from the house.

Some people would be terrified at the notion of an open, lonely field in the dark, but Beca was nothing like most people. She craved the solitude and quietness that the place provided. She had found it after she'd snuck out of the house during a particularly nasty fight, and it had been hers since the moment she laid eyes on it.

Once Beca had arrived, she unceremoniously dropped her bag to the ground and used it as a pillow to rest her head on. Looking up the stars, Beca heaved a sigh, and closed her eyes momentarily.

This was a constant occurrence for Beca; it was somewhat of a tradition, really. Every Friday, no matter where she was, Beca would always find herself staring at the stars. She really couldn't explain it, but she found more comfort staring up these massive balls of fire than she had ever felt from anything – or anyone – else before. She didn't talk, because she didn't _have_ to – she was looking at the stars. The stars knew everything already. They knew all the unspoken words that Beca longed to voice.

_Hey there. How've you been? I've been doing okay, well, better than I've been at least. My birthday is in a month, did you know that? 18. Long at last. You know, I really hope you're happy. I really do. Even if it's with someone who isn't me… God, I sound like a fucking cheese ball. See what you do to me? I'm only ever a sap for you. Ugh, why did I have to be so fucked up, huh? I keep saying that I don't want to find you and yet here I am every fucking Friday at 8 pm sharp, looking up at the stars, wondering if you're looking up at them too and spilling your heart out to me. I keep thinking maybe it's just better to stop doing this. It makes it harder for me. It makes the decision to not find you harder. I love you, and even though just the thought of you with someone else makes me cringe, I do hope you find someone. I wonder what you're like. I think about it. Not just how you look like, but I think whether or not you're my better half, because, you know, we were once parts of a whole, and if I'm this shitty, at least I hope you're happy. I hope you got the good half. I miss you. Is it weird to say that? To say I miss you? Well, I don't care. I don't care. I miss you._

* * *

**So what do you think? I know it may not seem like much, but I need to fill in the history of the story right, so that we can all understand the emotional conundrums in the story better. All weirdness in all of my writing should be attributed to three things: 1) I'm a Ravenclaw! 2) I'm studying physics and philosophy. and 3) I have a mechanics exam that I know nothing about...**

**Review, people!**

**If you have any questions/ suggestions or anything, let me know. And if you'd like to know more about how the necklaces work, I came up with rules and physic-y concepts that govern the idea of soulmates...**

**I'm on Tumblr physicistsserialshipping. tumblr. com**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello there lovely people. I do apologize for taking so long. Originally, I had planned to post this on the 2nd of May (Battle of Hogwarts), but I finished it late and the docx were bollocks! Also, I would like to point out that Chloe's POV is so much harder to write! **

**This is for my Beta, sunnywinterclouds, for saving me from letting my "foreignness show", because apparently the original breakfast I came up with was "ew! Who even eats that?" **

**Also, for YouJustGotPitchSlapped, because SHE CAME UP WITH A LIST.. And I love lists. And Miss-Statement, because long reviews are awesome... and because I may or may not have made her second guess everything. **

* * *

Certain objects all around us release odour in the form of molecules. The molecules travel throughout the air until they reach our noses, which have sensory cells, chemoreceptors, covered by a mucous membrane. The molecules dissolve and bind with the chemoreceptors, which passes on electrical impulses to the olfactory bulb in the brain. In turn, the olfactory bulb interprets patterns in electrical activity as specific odours and olfactory sensation becomes perception. But the olfactory bulb is also a part of the brain's limbic system, an area so closely associated with memory and feeling it's sometimes called the emotional brain. This is the reason why a smell can conjure up memories and powerful responses almost instantaneously.

The sleeping resident of 221B, Chloe Jean Beale, woke up to the invading smell of the fresh, griddle pan-fried pancakes. Led by the alluring odour, she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen with her eyes closed, depending solely on her sensory memory for navigation.

"Mmmm, food," rasped Chloe, in a voice oddly resembling that of a zombie hunting for brains.

"Morning to you, too, Chloe," came a voice behind the counter, sounding slightly amused. She slapped Chloe's hand as it reached for her breakfast. "No, no, no. Get your hands off my pancakes. And it's crude to eat food with your hands. Go take a shower."

"But Aubrey…" whined Chloe, pouting."I'm hungry, and I'm so hung-over. I need food in my system, woman."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have drunk as much as you did last night." The blonde, Aubrey, put on her I-told-you-this-was-going-to-happen-and-I'm-not-happy-about-it face. "Go on. Take a shower and then you can have breakfast. Make it fast, though, it's gonna be a long day."

"Ugh, fine." Chloe stomped her feet like a child having a temper tantrum before making her way to the bathroom.

* * *

Aubrey Molly Posen and Chloe Jean Beale met in the sandbox at the age of four. Cliché, they both know, but true nonetheless. Chloe, ever the sociable kid, had approached the tight-lipped girl who sat alone.

_"Hey. I'm Chloe."_

_The four-year-old blonde looked up at Chloe, and without saying a word got back to digging a hole in the sand._

_"What are you doing? Are you building a castle? Oh, can I help? You know I once built this castle that was so big –"_

_Sighing, Aubrey realized that the girl, Chloe, was not about to give up. "I'm looking for artefacts actually."_

_"Oh." Chloe was silent for a moment. "…What are afracts?"_

_Rather than correct the girl on her atrocious pronunciation, Aubrey said, "They're human-made objects of historical or cultural relevance." She hoped the definition would be enough to make the girl lose interest and leave her alone, but no such luck._

_"Ha! That's funny. You're funny." Chloe laughed for some unforeseen reason. "We're going to be friends now," she decided, with a certain air of sureness that left no room for argument._

_"Let's look for afracts." Grabbing one of Aubrey's beach toys, she quickly started digging a new hole._

_The blonde stared at Chloe for a while, not quite sure what to say. Should she tell her the word was artefacts, not afracts? Should she yell at her to leave her alone? Should she throw sand in her face and stomp off? Ultimately, she opted for grabbing her plastic shovel and refocusing on her quest._

They'd been friends ever since.

To this day Chloe insists that Aubrey was just waiting for the redhead to talk to her, and to this day Aubrey avidly denies it.

_"Just admit it, you were so happy that I came to talk to you! You couldn't wait to be my friend."_

_"Oh, please! The only reason I let you play with me that day was because I felt bad for you. You seemed like a psycho!"_

* * *

More than fifteen years later, the two were still the best of friends. To an outsider, it seemed like the two couldn't be more different if they tried.

Chloe was warm, and radiant, and sparkling, and lively. She was full of life and her smile never wavered. People fawned over her wherever she went, and she thrived in the attention.

Aubrey was all logic, and brains-before-heart, and analytical in the way she viewed things. She spoke of realistic possibilities, and her frown, which she had undoubtedly inherited from her father, was perpetually present.

But they balanced each other out just right. Aubrey was the gravity that attached Chloe to Earth, and knew when that ever-present smile on her face wasn't real. She was the one who knew what Chloe looked like after she ran out of energy, when she was all broken… and Aubrey was the one that always held her together.

Chloe was the colour in Aubrey's life. She was the bright light, the smiles, and the rare laughs. Chloe was the one who knew about the sleepless nights, the tears, the pressure, and the insecurities. And Chloe… Chloe was always there.

Ever since they'd met, they'd shared an unspoken promise to always be there for one another. So that day when Chloe casually mentioned Barden and how she'd like to go there, Aubrey knew that Barden was where _they_ were going. It didn't matter that her dad wanted her to go to Harvard, like he once had. It didn't matter that Aubrey had never stood up to him. Aubrey knew, deep down in her heart, that for Chloe, she would stand up against the world.

The two had been sharing a dorm since freshman year. Now juniors, the two had moved to an on-campus apartment. Living with Chloe wasn't exactly easy. She was messy. She _always_ left her clothes all over the place. She had no sense of responsibility. She drank too much and partied too hard. And yet, Aubrey wouldn't have it any other way. Chloe may have been a mess, but she was _her_ mess.

Chloe made her way back to the kitchen, her hair still dripping wet from her shower.

"There, I took a shower. Gimmee my food now." Chloe's face was a mixture a strange mixture of demanding and desperate, which made Aubrey chuckle.

"Here you go." Aubrey handed Chloe a plate of chocolate chip pancakes, which had been Chloe's favourite ever since she could chew. Before the plate had even touched the table, Chloe was shovelling in her breakfast like a she hadn't eaten in years.

"Oh, Gods! It's so good." Chloe moaned. "Where are you going?" Chloe swallowed heavily, before asking Aubrey who was walking towards the door. "Aren't you going to get something to eat?"

"I already had my coffee," Aubrey replied. "Woke up early, you know?" The jibe at Chloe's tendency to sleep in late was subtle but still there. "I have a class in twenty minutes. Yours start in about an hour, so finish eating and get ready. Oh, and don't forget Bella practice today at five. Be on time. I will not tolerate another lecture from Alice. See you then, sunshine." Aubrey waved Chloe goodbye and she was out of the house.

Chloe continued to eat her breakfast. After she was done, she headed to her room. She put on her clothes, matching a true-blue sweater with a pair of jeans, and made her way across campus to her first class. Philosophy.

* * *

"Morning, everyone," greeted Professor Shoff as she made her way into the classroom. "Today we'll be discussing the topic of soulmates. Now, we all know what our necklaces are supposed to do. Yes, they indicate when we meet our soulmates by glowing and merging with their necklaces, but what I'm interested in today is understanding why they glow. We will talk about the science behind it, but I also want to talk a little bit more about the implications of living in a world with soulmates. Now, we all know how our necklaces can indicate our soulmates, but little of us actually realize the physics behind it. Let's talk about the law of conservation of energy. Anyone?" She asked. "Yes, Helen."

"Well, the law of conservation of energy basically says that energy cannot be created from void nor destroyed and it changes from one form to the other," answered Helen Baldwin.

"Yes. Thank you, Helen, that's the simplest way to put it. But what does that mean? Anyone? No?" She looked around, seeing no raised hands. "Okay, let me ask you this. Do you believe there's a finite amount of energy in the universe? Liam, yes."

"I think so. I think the universe definitely has a finite amount of energy."

"Okay. Peter, I'm seeing a frown over there. What do you think?"

"I'm just thinking, why would there be a definite amount of energy if the Gods could just supply the universe with more."

"But why would the Gods supply the universe with more energy? They need to sustain it. In a sense more energy means more power, right? And the Gods don't exactly have a very good history with giving us power. I mean, isn't that why they ripped us apart? And besides, the energy they gave when they created the universe is still around, isn't it? That's an essential part of the law of conservation of energy" This came from Natalie, a girl near the back of the class.

"Good point, Natalie. So how do you think the Gods supplied the energy? Would you say they put certain energies in everything? Or do you think they just paved the way for the energy to spread around the universe? Chloe?"

"I think they just paved the way. They may have had something to start with. Anything. But I think all they had to do at some point was just sit and watch. They may have set things up, but then the Big Bang happened and they just sat there watching."

"Okay, do we all agree on that?" Everyone nodded their heads. "Great. So let's recap. There's a finite amount of energy in the universe. The Gods may have paved the way for this energy to create the universe, but they did not spread it out themselves. What does this mean for the universe though? Sam?"

"I think it means that everything has energy in it. The book, the table, the chair, everything."

"Excellent point. But let me build upon that conclusion, don't we have that energy inside us?" Professor Shoff paused. "Gods! I'm loving the looks of shock on your faces." The class chuckled softly. "Yes, Castile."

"But if we have the energy inside us, the same energy that constitutes the very existence of the universe, doesn't that mean we're one with the universe? That we're one with the book and the chair and the table and the sky and the water and the tree and everything?"

"That's a great question. What do you think?" The professor redirected the question towards the class.

"I think it does. I think it means we're one with everything" commented Lucy.

"But isn't that the same definition some religions use for the Gods? They, or He, are everywhere, in everything, they take all forms and shapes. So does that mean the Gods are energy too? And if they are and we share the same characteristics, does that make us half-Gods?" Chloe asked in confusion.

"Again, a great question. Are we half-Gods? If we share the same energy with the universe and the Gods, doesn't that make us Gods ourselves? Yes, Percy."

"Yes, I think that does make us Gods. But which part of us exactly has the energy?"

"I'm going answer that," exclaimed Professor Shoff, all excited now. "I think the source of the pure energy inside us is not something physical, rather it is what we may call souls. I believe our physical bodies are only a manifestation of that energy. What do you guys think?" Again, everyone seemed to nod their heads. "Great. So since we all agree that there's a finite amount of energy, and that our souls harbour energy, what can we conclude from this?"

"I think we can safely make a conclusion that there's also a finite number of souls," answered Katelynn.

"But given the Earth's age, wouldn't the physical bodies of all souls have been already depleted?" asked Thuggory.

"Unless we take reincarnation into the equation. The amount of souls is definite, but they go through different forms of existence, which agrees with the law of conservation of energy," Natalie spoke up again.

"That's an excellent answer," said Professor Shoff. "Now, I want to take us back to the topic of soulmates. We all know that the Gods grew scared of our increasing strength as a whole and so they decided to cut us down to halves. We also know that they gave us necklaces to better our chances at finding our other halves. Recent discoveries show that the reason our necklaces glow is energy. Simple as that. Now, science has yet to define the exact source of energy, but taking into account everything we've talked about today, I would like to hear what you have to say. Helen?"

"I think the energy comes from within us, from our souls, and their manifestation into the glow that comes from our necklaces is merely another form that energy takes."

"But how would the energy recognisea certain person?" asked Peter.

"I think it goes back to the fact that we were once whole. I think our souls call out to each other. I think meeting your soulmate has the same effect on our energy as the excited electrons have on the nucleus of the atom," answered Chloe.

"I actually agree with Chloe. I think our souls recogniseeach other. I think the sheer energy of missing each other is enough to alert our necklaces. But I think that once the longing is kind of sated, it takes more work to make our necklaces glow again. I think we need to fall in love with the person again for our necklaces to glow more than just once." This was all from Sam.

"That's a very good point. Great work, Chloe and Sam. I agree with both of you. I think even though we're born in a world with soulmates, it takes actual work to make things happen. Which actually sets us up perfectly for our next topic. I want you all to take a moment to think about this. In a world with soulmates, do we have a say in who we love? Or are we governed by fate?" The question was followed by a short lapse of silence as everyone contemplated it. "Liam, what do you think?"

"As much as I'd like to believe that we do have a choice, I think at the end of the day we don't. We're meant to truly fall in love with one person, because some millions of years ago, we were one." He said this somewhat sulkily, like he wasn't pleased by his own opinion.

"I don't think we need one. I think if we were given the chance to choose between our soulmates and anyone else, we would still choose our soulmates," commented Lucy.

"Okay, but the real question here is why would we choose our soulmates? Is it because we are, in fact, in love with them, or are we compelled to love them, the same way anyone would love a part of their essence?" Professor Shoff directed the conversation.

The class fell to silence as everyone thought about the proposed question.

"Let me try another way around this. Do you believe it's possible to fall in love with someone who isn't your soulmate?"

"I don't know; this is really confusing," whined Castile. "On one hand, I think that yes, we can fall in love with people who aren't our soulmates, on the other hand, my mind is screaming it's not true love."

"I actually completely believe that we can fall in love with people who aren't our soulmates," said Thuggory. "My parents aren't soulmates but they love each other dearly. I've never felt that their feelings for each other were trivial or any less. On the contrary, they seem to be so in love with each other that I would consider myself lucky to ever have what they have."

"I'm sorry; I really don't mean to offend anyone, but I feel as if it would be somewhat unfair to fall in love with someone who isn't my soulmate. I mean, it will always be in the back of my mind that there's someone out there who is the one for me. And I don't even want to think about my soulmate looking, or waiting for me while I'm with someone else. What if after I fall in love with someone, I meet my soulmate? Wouldn't that just break all of the hearts involved in the equation?" Percy asked.

"I think we ought to be a bit realistic here. We all know the chances of finding our soulmates are not always that high. If we all just sat around and waited for our soulmates, the human race would have gone extinct a long time ago. Now, I don't think that belittles any feelings people have for each other. Soulmates or not, having feelings for someone is what it is.'' This was from Katelynn, the logical one of the bunch.

The sound of whispers rose all over the class as people got into the discussion.

"Hold on. Hold on. Let's summarize what we have now." Professor Shoff took charge of the conversation. "I asked whether we can fall in love with people who aren't our soulmates. Some of you passionately believe we can. Others think we can only find true love with our soulmates. Correct?" They mumbled their agreement. "Okay. Now, I want you to work as two groups to come up with two arguments for the two stances and have someone present your argument. You have ten minutes."

The classroom was filled with noise as people moved around the classroom to form the groups and more noises as they discussed things within themselves.  
"Okay, time's up," announced Professor Shoff shortly. "So, those who believe we can fall in love with other people," she looked at the side of the room with Katelynn, Thuggory, Helen, Peter and Natalie. "Do you have your argument ready?"

"Yes, we do," answered Peter.

"And will you be the one presenting your argument, Peter?"

"Yes."

"Great. Go for it."

"We feel that it is possible for a person to fall in love with someone who isn't their soulmate. We all would like to recall that, as concluded earlier, even with soulmates, people have to fall in love for their necklaces to glow. We feel that this is strong evidence that being someone's soulmate is not enough to build a relationship with someone. So, aside from the initial momentum that soulmates acquire at the beginning by the simple fact that they are soulmates, all couples stand on common grounds. Soulmates have to work to fall in love, and so does everyone else. It might be harder for non-soulmate couples to take the conscious decision to be together, but that's because the media only portrays one type of love and belittles the other. In the end, we feel that non-soulmates, especially those of a young age, may feel pressure to not be together, in fear of the general public who judges them or looks down on them because they, and I quote, settled for less or gave up. Finally, we would also like to point out that a lot of us are descendants of non-soulmates, and most of us can testify that their parents loved each other passionately." Peter's speech was steady and even.

"Thank you, Peter. Great argument and great work, guys!" Professor Shoff turned to Chloe's group, which also consisted of Lucy, Percy, Castile, Liam, and Sam. "Are you guys ready to go against that?"

"Yes," answered Chloe. "I will be speaking on behalf of my group, too."

"Great! Just start whenever you're ready."

"First of all, we would like to mention that it is, by no means, our purpose to depreciate any form of love. We recognise that a lot of us have parents, family, or friends that are non-soulmates and we have utter respect for them. It is, however, our belief that people can only fall in love with their soulmates. It is true that we can love other people, but we can only fall in love with our soulmates. They're love. They're our love. They're the origin of the love that lies within our souls. They're the completion. As cliché as it may sound, they're the puzzle piece to the jigsaw of our existence. When we're born, our souls call out to them, so that at the exact same time, probably down to the second, their souls come to this world too. That's why our soulmates' birthdays are always on the same day, even if they're a couple of years apart. Is there any greater love than this? Our very existence is because their soul calls out to ours in longing, and hunger. They're the other halves. They split open the wounds of being ripped apart and remind us of what it felt like to be torn. But it is that burning pain of separation that drives us to them, that makes us try over and over with every look, with every touch, with every kiss to merge so completely and try so hard to shove ourselves back together. We think you can build a relationship, a family with anyone of your choice. We think your affection is yours to give. But the one time you won't get to choose, is the one time you will truly fall." Chloe got the whole speech out without taking a single breath, and she took a moment to breathe in deeply when it was over. As she looked around the class, most of them appeared stunned to silence by the passion and fire behind Chloe's eyes.

"—And there's that." Professor Shoff got out. "Okay! This was some class! Your finals are in a few weeks. Please study! You can all go now. Great job today, everyone."

* * *

Chloe packed her things and was making her way out of the classroom when she was stopped by Lucy. "Hey Chlo, that was WOW!"

"Oh hey Lucy." Chloe chuckled. "Thanks."

"Really Chloe, WOW! Anyway, the party last night was totally awesome, girl!" Lucy exclaimed.

"Oh my God! Yes! It was so much fun!" Chloe got out excitedly.

"There's another party today at the Alpha Beta house. You in?" Asked Lucy.

"I don't know. I will have to check with Aubrey first. You know how she is." Answered Chloe.

"Okay. Well, text me if you're coming. Hope to see you then! Anyway, I have to run. I have class in like 10 minutes."

"Oh me too actually. I'll text you later. See you."

* * *

Chloe's morning classes flew by and before she knew it, Chloe was making her way towards the auditorium for the Bellas' practice.

The Barden Bellas were an all-female A Capella group. The Bellas had been the first all-female A Capella group in the entire east coast. They had a history and had made a name for themselves by competing against men in the late 50's. They had won several competitions and were regarded as one of the most prestigious A Capella groups in the country. They weren't exactly living up to their reputation at the moment, though. The Barden Bellas had always stuck to tradition, maybe a bit too much. Wearing a flight attendant suit and singing songs only by women had been revolutionary in the 50's… in late 2010, not so much. Chloe and Aubrey had both auditioned for the Barden Bellas in their freshmen year. Chloe had been obsessed with the history of the Bellas; she had read all about them. Aubrey liked their commitment best. They had always loved singing and being in the musically renowned Barden University definitely had its perks.

"Oh what an honour it is to finally have you here with us, Chloe," snapped Alice the moment she spotted Chloe near the doorway. "Tell me, are my instructions not clear or are you just this stupid? Practice starts at five, not six, not four, and not five fifteen!" She continued shouting at Chloe, who shrank a little.

"I'm sorry, Alice, I just got caught up in class. The professor wanted to talk about finals and…"

"Shut up! You don't actually think I care about your pathetic excuses, do you? Listen, redhead, we're in the finals for the ICAA, and I will not have two stupid, useless aca-bitches ruin it for me. Clear?" She directed her glare firmly at Aubrey and Chloe.

"Yes, Alice. It's perfectly clear," replied Aubrey.

"Good! Now get in position; we don't have all day."

The girls scrambled to take their positions.

"Right! On three. Start the dance from top. And one, and two, and…"

* * *

"Okay! Practice over," announced Alice. "Chloe, Aubrey, wait up a minute."

Chloe and Aubrey exchanged nervous looks before moving to stand in front of Alice. "Listen up, this is my last chance at the ICAA, and you two better not fuck up. You just do what we practice, exactly like we practice it. Believe me, you don't want to mess with me. Do you understand?" Her voice was full of venom, and her face was icy and hard.

"Yes, we do," whispered Aubrey. Alice turned to Chloe with an expectant look on her face.

"Yes, we understand, Alice." Her voice, too, came out in a whisper.

"Good! Now get the fuck out of here."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Chloe groaned.

"Ugh! What an aca-bitch!" Aubrey exclaimed. "You okay?".

"Yeah, I think I am," she answered, pretty much truthfully. "Do you have any more classes today?"

"Nope. Want to head home?"

"There was actually this party that Lucy from Philosophy invited me to. Can we go? Please?" She played up her pouting face, even though she knew Aubrey was pretty much immune to it. Pretty much.

Before Aubrey could answer, though, Chloe remembered something way more important than any party. "Wait what time is it?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as panicked as she felt.

"It's seven thirty." Aubrey answered, looking slightly confused. Then it dawned on her, and her eyes widened. "Today is Friday!"

"Exactly!" Chloe said, now properly freaking out. "I've got to go. I'll see you at home, okay?"

"Okay. Don't be out too late!" She had to shout that last part, as Chloe was already running off towards the lake.

* * *

Chloe got to the other side of campus in record time. "Seriously, I should be running in the Olympics or something," she said aloud to herself, as she often did.

Barden University had a beautiful campus. Lake Andrews was just one of the many spots that made the place breath taking. Surrounded by trees, the lake was almost a hidden gem that only a few paid visits to. But this was Chloe's place. It had been Chloe's place since she had first seen it during freshmen year's orientation. Every Friday, at eight p.m. sharp, Chloe would make her way here. She would then lie on her back and stare up the stars. It had been Chloe's thing since as long as she could remember. Long before starting college, no matter what was going on, this was how she would always spend her Friday nights.

"Hey, beautiful. How've you been? I've been doing great! I'm just a bit worried about finals. I've been studying hard, though, I promise. I'm still worried. Are you looking up at the stars too right now? I like to think you are. I need to tell you a few thing.. You better not keep me waiting any longer, okay? I miss you. I want you. I just wish I could wrap you in my arms and feel yours wrap around mine. And you'd hold me tight, and I would put my head on your shoulder. Or we could watch the stars together! You so better not be messing around with anyone. I'm not the jealous type, but... okay, maybe a little bit, just you better be keeping all of you to me, because I'm keeping everything in me to just you. Just come to me already. I'm tired of waiting, babe. I can't seem to find you. Are you looking for me? You better be! Just, come to me, okay? I'm here and I love you and I want you and I need you. Just come to me already. I miss you."

* * *

**I got a question "is there a difference between children of "not soulmate"-parents/"soulmate"-parents and them finding there respective soulmates? " and the answer is nope! One's chances of finding his/her soulmate are not affected by their parents. **

**Keep the reviews coming! **

**Also, I'm on Tumblr: physicistsserialshipping. tumblr. com**


End file.

Pitch Perfect, Drama, Romance