Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cross Me

------------------

Chapter 1

 The Invitation

The car was silent except for the soft hum of the tires against the road and the faint bass of whatever the Tesla’s system had queued up—something synthy, forgettable. Beca sat in the backseat, legs crossed, one hand tugging absentmindedly at the hem of her hoodie sleeve, a green Barden College hoodie she stole from Chloe when they lived together. Her other hand gripped her phone though she hadn’t looked at it in ten minutes. Her headphones dangled unused around her neck. Nerves weren’t new—not really—but tonight felt heavier. 

Bigger.

Another city, another venue, another exhausting day of rehearsals, interviews, and meet-and-greets, she found herself sinking deeper into a haze of fatigue. 

As they pulled up in front of the venue, she leaned forward slightly, peering through the tinted glass at the marquee above the grand old theater. DJ KHALED stood bold and unapologetic in all caps, glowing bright in white lights. Just below it—her name: BECA MITCHELL. Not quite as large, not quite as loud, but still up there. 

Still real.

She stared at it longer than she meant to. Her name. On a damn marquee.

The driver didn’t ask, didn’t wait, he just steered the electric car smoothly around the side of the building and pulled into a narrow alley that led to the theater’s back entrance. Coming to a stop, the Tesla’s door lifted with a quiet hiss, and Beca stepped out into the cool evening air, tugging the hood of her hoodie up over her head more out of habit than anything else.

A black rental van idled nearby, unremarkable to most, but familiar to Beca. As she made her way toward the venue’s rear entrance, the van’s sliding door rolled open with a mechanical click.

“Yo! Mitchell!”

Turning, a smirk touched Beca’s lips as she called back, “What’s up AJ?”

“You know, the girl’s and I just knocking about before the show,” said AJ, the first person to jump out of the van. She turned back and shouted at her mates in the van. “Alright you Spice Girls Wannabes, get your wiggle out.”

“That sounds so much worse than it really means,”

petite brunette. She was secretly Beca’s favorite among her backup singers. Part of it was because AJ was a storm of individuality and beauty, her golden-blonde fauxhawk standing out boldly against her deep mocha complexion. She landed on the pavement with a bounce, flashing a smirk that crackled with mischief. “There she is!” she called, her British accent adding a layer of cheeky charm.

Right behind her came Natasha, her jet-black hair streaked with pink. She flicked a lock out of her face with an effortless grace, landing beside AJ with the casual confidence of someone who was always camera-ready. “You warmed up, Mitchell?” she asked, eyebrow raised. “Because we’re about to tear it down.”

Skye emerged next, the tallest of the bunch, her long brown hair with platinum highlights swaying as she slid out of the van. She reminded Beca of Stacie, both in looks and personality. “Philly doesn’t mess around,” she said with a teasing wink. “Better not come half-steppin’. They’ll eat you alive if you sound like a poser.”

Finally, Minh appeared, her hair a glossy curtain nearly brushing the pavement. She adjusted the sleeves of her oversized hoodie and grinned. “We rehearsed that bridge like ten times. If we screw it up now, I’m walking straight off that stage and into the Delaware River.”

Their arrival came with a sudden wave of laughter, noise, and warmth. The tension in Beca’s chest eased just a little. These four weren’t just backup singers—they were quickly becoming her people. Loud, unpredictable, and unapologetically themselves. And around them, the weight she often carried felt a little lighter.

“You’re all such drama queens,” Beca said, grinning as she shook her head.

AJ bumped her shoulder with a smirk. “And you live for it.”

“Only when it’s on-key,” Beca shot back, her voice full of affection.

Minh twirled a streak of blonde hair around her finger. “Last night opening for DJ Khaled,” she said, nudging Beca. “After this, it’s all your name on the tickets.”

“Next stop: headliner status,” Natasha added, her voice almost musical as she gave a wink.

AJ leaned in, her tone more serious. “You ready to be the name in lights? The face on the poster?”

Beca hesitated. That small pause, that brief flicker of doubt—she hadn’t meant to let it show. “Yeah… I guess.”

Skye gave her a soft elbow to the ribs. “No ‘guess’ about it. You’ve got this.”

“Where’s all that confidence you channel when you’re up there on stage, lighting the place up?” Minh asked, half-teasing, half-genuine.

“You’re Badass Beca Effin’ Mitchell,” AJ said, her voice low but firm, no sarcasm in sight.

“Seriously,” Natasha echoed. “You’re the real deal, Mitchell.”

A soft smile broke across Beca’s face—rare, unguarded, the kind she usually reserved for the Bellas. And in that moment, she realized something. These women weren’t the Bellas, but they gave her the same feeling. That same fierce loyalty, that same unspoken bond. They looked out for each other. They pushed each other. They didn’t put her on a pedestal—they worked with her, not beneath her. They respected the hustle because they saw her grinding right there beside them.

She hadn’t forgotten where she came from, and they hadn’t let her.

“Alright, nerds,” she said, her smile turning into a smirk as she straightened her hoodie and took a step towards the door. 

The backstage door swung open, and was held by a security guard. He gave them a nod and a grin. “Evening ladies,” he said with a nod, while motioning them inside.

The five of them moved together down the narrow corridor, their steps quick and purposeful, exuding the effortless confidence of performers who’d done this a hundred times before. To an outsider, they looked like a seasoned squad—united, invincible. But for Beca, that unity felt like a party she hadn’t been fully invited to. She walked among them, but not with them.

Though the backup singers were kind, and always professional, a subtle boundary hung in the air. Technically, she was their boss, and that came with invisible walls. Her manager, Theo, had more than once reminded her that backup singers lived a nomadic life, cycling through tours and gigs. Building real connections with them could lead to messy emotions when the lineup inevitably changed. It was business, said Theo, not friendship.

The sounds of show prep surrounded them as they entered the venue—stagehands barking orders, walkie-talkies crackling with static, mic checks slicing through the atmosphere. The low pulse of a bass line rumbled from the main speakers as sound engineers ran tests, filling the empty space with the skeleton of the night’s music.

At the fork in the hallway, Beca veered away from the group, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave as the others vanished into their shared dressing room. Their laughter and chatter faded behind her, replaced by the distant murmur of stage crew and muffled music, signs of life that only made her feel more detached. Surrounded by the hum of pre-show activity, even though the anticipation of impending performance, she still felt an echoing hollowness.

Her footsteps echoed in the corridor, each one amplifying the weight of her solitude. The closer she got to her private green room, the more the loneliness seemed to press in, heavy and unrelenting. The anticipation in the air—the energy that usually sparked excitement—felt hollow to her now, like a show playing for an audience that didn’t include her. Despite being surrounded by numerous people, the loneliness wrapped around her tighter than ever.

This was not the life she had chased; the constant motion, the performance of her own music, the adrenaline of nightly shows. Because of this, the spotlight had never felt warm nor inviting. Now for Beca, the spotlight  only casts deep shadows.

Yet this was her life now; the road, the music, the nightly spotlight.

Reaching her green room, Beca paused with her hand on the knob, gathering herself. She slipped inside and let the door close behind her with a soft click. She was really glad to see it empty. Almost without thinking, she locked it and leaned her full weight against it, exhaling as if trying to empty herself of the ache. The silence inside was a relief; a brief, fragile barrier against the noise of everything outside. Slumping heavily against the door, Beca savored the solitude, knowing it wouldn’t last. She only had a few moments before Theo would be knocking, clipboard in hand, ready to plunge her back into the rhythm of expectation. Theo was always ready with a list of things she needed to do before each night’s show.

But for now, she was alone, and she craved it even as it hurt.

She took a deep, steadying breath. She had to pull it together, the show was coming up quickly. 

Another night, another stage, another show. Another shot to prove herself, to Khaled, to the label, to the crew, but more than anyone, to herself. That she belonged here. That she was more than a lucky break or a passing trend. That her voice carried weight, power, and staying power.

Still, the doubts clung to her like smoke. Was she truly strong enough to carry a tour on her own? The big weekend was almost here, a week away, and with it, the moment of truth. No more hiding behind Khaled or hype. The spotlight would be hers, fully.

She had to be ready. 

Her name still wasn’t at the top of the marquee.

Not yet.

But soon.

- - -- - -

“I think that covers everything for tonight,” said Theo as he looked up from his clipboard. “Remember you need to hit your mark during the final song, so the three lights can center on you.”

“I know the deal, Theo,” sighed Beca as the hair and makeup team put the finishing touches on her look. “I’ve done this over a hundred times now.” She was frustrated that Theo felt the need to go over the same instructions over and over again.

“Well, the encore is new,” said Theo. He then asked Lynn, the makeup artist. “Should we go with a darker shade of lipstick? Really make her lips pop?”

“This shade is fine, Theo,” Beca sighed.

“Darken her mascara,” instructed Theo.

Lynn made a questioning look, and Beca hesitated, but then nodded. As Lynn got to work around Beca’s eyes, Theo talked about the encore. “I will have a timer. Watch me, and I’ll signal when you should return to the stage. You ready for the additional three songs?”

Yes Theo,” Beca said in exasperation. “Me and the girls have been practicing them for three weeks.”

“Minh’s worried about the transition,” observed Theo.

“I’m not,” said Beca.

“We’re videoing the encore, and releasing the three songs on Apple Music tonight. The encore will be released on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube, so it’s imperative you be bloody brilliant tonight.”

“Gee, Theo, thanks for the pep talk,” Beca snarked. “I feel totally motivated now.”

“It’s important, Beca.”

“I know,” Beca kept her voice steady, because she really wanted to shout it. “Look, Theo, I know. Could you all give me some privacy?”

“We really…” Theo started, as he pointed towards his clipboard.

The door opened and Lizzy, Beca’s personal assistant entered. “Ms Mitchell…”

“Lizzy, for the hundredth time, call me Beca.”

“Yes Ms.—I mean Beca,” answered Lizzy. “I just wanted to let you…”

“Beca, Beca, Beca,” said DJ Khaled as he burst into the room after Lizzy. 

“Khaled,” said Beca and Theo simultaneously.

“I just had to say to my Lady B, what an absolute pleasure it has been to tour with you,” said Khaled as he took Beca’s hands in his. He kissed the knuckles of both her hands. “But alas, it is time for me to return to my queen.”

“Thanks, Khaled,” Beca said with a genuine smile. “Going to miss you too. Say hi to Nicole. I heard you all are going on a cruise.”

“Ahh-yes,” Khaled said with a proud smile. “My queen has been ever so patient. I am taking her away for some truly royal treatment. But you, you’re going to continue this amazing tour, and keep killing it, my Lady B.”

“I hope…”

“NO! No hope!” Khaled shouted. “I have seen it! I have declared it, so it will be. You will do it.”

“Oh ummm-yeah—okay,” Beca said through a cringe-grin.

“GOOD!” Khaled shouted. “Theo! With me!” And with that Khaled swept out of the room. 

For a second Theo hesitated, but Beca gave him a look and from the hallway Khaled shouted, “THEO!”

“Hey Lizzy, everyone, can I get some space? I just want a few minutes before I go on,” said Beca.

Beca had not seen a reason to have an assistant, but there were moments when she was really thankful for Lizzy. This was one of those moments as Lizzy chased everyone out of the room. The young woman could seem quiet and a bit mousy, but when tasked with a job, she got it done.

Opening a bottle of water with a quick twist, Lizzy set the bottle down next to Beca as she asked, “Do you need anything else?”

Looking into the mirror, Beca’s eyes found Lizzy’s and gave a thankful smile. “No, just a little quiet before I go on.” She then grabbed the bottle and took a long drink.

“Will do,” said Lizzy as she slipped out and pulled the door shut. It was quieter, but not silent. The distant thrum of the venue pulsing through the walls like a heartbeat.

Now alone in the green room, Beca looked into the mirror, and was struck by her reflection. The soft glow of the vanity lights reflecting off the mirror in front of her.

Showtime was close, but for now, there was a moment reprieve. She leaned in, studying her face. It was her. And somehow, not her.

The makeup was striking—dark, dramatic eyeliner, heavy mascara, a bold lip color. It pulled her back to her college days, when she was the alt-girl who stood out without trying to. Back then, her look was raw, thrown together in dorm room mirrors before Bella performances. Now, it was crafted by Lynne, a professional who transformed her features with practiced ease. Still, the image staring back at her stirred something familiar. A version of herself she hadn’t seen in years.

Nostalgia crept in quietly, which inevitably brought up memories of the Bellas. She missed the Bellas. The chaotic harmony, the sisterhood, the inside jokes and . Most of all, she missed Chloe, her best friend, her anchor through those years of uncertainty and growth. Everything felt simpler back then, even when it wasn’t. They had each other. Now, the green room felt too big, too noisy.

She smoothed her hands over her outfit, again it suggested a look she had when she was younger, but made up of more expensive named brands. It left her feeling slightly fraudulent.

She took a breath, and sat back. This version of her might look polished, reimagined. But underneath was just the girl who loved the music, who lived for creating new sounds, though it was deeply buried underneath, waiting for the chance to be real and honest.

Looking at herself, Beca again was reminded she never envisioned this life for herself. Centered in the spot lights, her name emblazoned across marquees, the roar of thousands chanting her lyrics, it all felt surreal, like she’d wandered into someone else’s dream. 

Fame of this kind was still not on her agenda. She’d always envisioned herself behind the scenes, crafting melodies and beats in dimly lit studios, letting other voices bring the sound to life. Producing was her passion, not performing. She belonged behind the curtain, not center stage.

But fate, in the form of DJ Khaled along with his trusted producer, Theo, had other ideas. Neither had arrived at the USO Tour looking to discover a breakout act, but from the moment they saw Beca perform with the Bellas, something shifted. There was a spark in her presence, a raw energy in the way she manipulated sound, even casually, while tinkering with Khaled’s setup she had created a sound that was special. She wasn’t just a skilled DJ; she was magnetic. They saw what Beca couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see in herself, an artist meant to be heard and seen.

Still, Beca pushed back. 

Hard. 

The idea of becoming a mainstream pop princess felt foreign, even suffocating. She recoiled at the thought, internally labeling it a betrayal of everything she stood for. If she ever embraced the spotlight, it would be on her own terms, gritty, real, maybe alt-pop at best. The glamor and spectacle weren’t just unappealing; it all felt inauthentic. She insisted her dream had always been to uplift others, to build soundscapes that gave artists a voice, not to become the voice herself.

Yet despite her resistance, her inner walls began to crack, thanks in large part to the Bellas. They had seen every version of her: the stubborn one, the snarky one, the self-doubting one, the creative one, and the quietly brilliant one. And Chloe, her closest friend and fiercest advocate, never stopped believing in her. Chloe’s encouragement wasn’t loud or pushy, it was genuine, persistent, steady, and unwavering. She reminded Beca of who she became on stage: powerful, soulful, fearless, and vibrant. With each word of support, the Bellas chipped away at Beca’s apprehension until she began to see what they saw.

Even now as the opportunity grew like a golden promise, Beca found herself tangled in a quiet ache, that of loneliness and self-doubt. The more the offer became real, the more isolated she felt and the more she questioned her right to be on stage. The stage, for all its lights and noise, seemed distant from the world she had been comfortable in. Accepting the offer had meant change. It had meant stepping away from the comfort of her found family, the Bellas and her. It meant no longer being “one of”, and rather instead being “the one.” 

It was thrilling, while simultaneously being terrifying.

In the end, it was a glance from Chloe, clear, steady, loving, full of unshakable belief, that made her take the leap. Her first solo performance in the south of France wasn’t just a song; it was a revelation. She wasn’t just performing. She was creating a moment that rippled through the crowd and landed in their hearts. For the first time, she felt the true weight of her voice solo, not as a member of a tight-knit group or as a producer behind the glass, but as the focal point front and center.

And it changed everything.

Of course for her first solo performance, she’d still brought the Bellas onstage for that final USO show; it had felt right in the moment. They were the reason she even had this chance, and they deserved one last moment in the spotlight together. Sharing the stage with them made the transition feel less terrifying, more like an evolution than a departure. That night’s energy, the rush of harmonizing with her sisters, stayed with her. It carried into her solo performances afterward, giving her some measure of confidence and clarity. 

Yet the light of that moment had begun to wane. Each show after had felt a little less; a bit further from home. The spark from that final Bellas performance, while still burning quietly in her chest, was growing fainter.

Once Beca had been onboard with the idea of becoming a music artist, DJ Khaled and Theo moved fast. The duo curated a custom playlist of covers; familiar hits that gave Beca the space to experiment. Naturally,  Beca couldn’t just play them straight. She remixed, mashed up, and tweaked each song until they all felt uniquely hers. That creativity helped her find her voice, and with some long-distance help from Emily and Cynthia Rose, she began crafting original tracks. Each new song sharpened her sound. 

Every time she stepped on stage to perform live, she added something new. Something that made it clear to everyone but herself that Beca Mitchell had that undeniable spark of a rising star.

Ironically it was only on stage during her performances that Beca felt comfortable. She didn’t have time to think, just perform. There was something electric about being up there on stage, commanding the energy of an entire venue. A thrill she hadn’t felt regularly since college.

The high of performing took her back to her time with the Bellas; the chaos, the harmonies, the ridiculous warm-ups and unexpected friendships. 

The ICCA National Finals and the A Cappella World Championship had been the ultimate thrills. The way she and the Bellas had stood together on those stages, their voices united, hearts pounding, every note landing like a victory punch. Those music nerds had become her family. And maybe that’s why this solo tour, for all its glitter and promise, felt hollow in ways Beca hadn’t anticipated; she was doing it alone.

Maybe that’s why she resisted so vociferously. She didn’t want to do this solo.

On paper, her life sounded perfect; a rising music star, opening shows across the country. She had a dedicated team making sure everything ran smoothly. She actually had a growing fan base, screaming her name, while her EP continued to rise up the Billboard Hot 100, and sales on Apple Music. 

It was all unexpected, and she’d worked her ass off to make it a reality, because Beca Mitchell doesn’t do anything half-ass. A lot of people were putting in a lot of work to make this a successful venture; and for that she was extremely grateful. 

Truly.

But gratitude didn’t cancel out the exhaustion. The nonstop cycle of press, meet & greets, interviews, and rehearsals drained her in ways performing never had before. Hotel rooms blurred together, sterile, impersonal, and cold. The loneliness settled in slowly, then stuck, like a weight she couldn’t shake.

She was technically in charge, but that just meant she was always “on.” Fortunately, Theo, her producer/manager, helped carry the load. He was sharp, efficient, and knowledgeable, though a bit too eager to control every detail. At first, his guidance had been a blessing, suggesting setlists, handling logistics, shielding her from unnecessary stress. But lately, his "suggestions" had started to feel more like commands. He made decisions that Beca would have wanted input in. Still, he hadn’t crossed any lines she felt the need to challenge. 

Yet.

To be honest, Beca was too drained to argue. The tour was grueling, and Theo’s reasoning always sounded so… reasonable.

Her backup singers were a highlight: funny, wild, and talented in a way that reminded her of the Bellas. They’d become a comfort, a familiar kind of chaos that made the tour feel a little more like home. But even with them, there was space she couldn’t quite close. They were Theo’s hires, longtime friends of each other, so already had their own clique, and now technically were her employees. That changed things. Conversations stayed surface-level, always polite. Never just hanging out, or being anything other than work. Theo often reminded her she needed to keep things professional, backups came and went, after all.

And so a distance lingered. Not loud or dramatic. Just there. Quiet, steady, and impossible to ignore.

- - -- - -

As the minutes ticked down to her performance, Beca sat on the extremely comfortable couch as she scrolled through her Instagram feed. She smiled as she came across a photo Chloe had sent from brunch with Stacie and Amy. Her heart clenched a little. They were laughing, probably talking about something dumb Amy had done, and Beca wasn’t there.

This was the dream though, wasn’t it?

Her phone buzzed. A reminder: ‘Opening set in 15.’ She stood, straightening her clothes, and prepared to head for the stage. In a few minutes the lights would hit her, the bass would drop, and for a bit over sixty minutes, everything would feel right as she opened for DJ Khaled one last time. The adrenaline would roar back, the crowd would scream her name, and she’d remember why she did this. But as the stage lights dimmed and the cheers faded, she already knew there was a part of her still searching for the harmony she’d left behind.

As she was about to secure her phone in a lockbox she had for valuables, it buzzed again. A selfie from Chloe, her best friend, her person, grinning in front of their favorite Brooklyn coffee shop appeared. It must have been a bit windy there as her red hair was a bit wild. 

The caption on the photo read - ‘Wish I was there to see you slay!’

Pausing, Beca hesitated, then typed - ‘Why aren’t you?’

Chloe’s response came quickly - ‘Life. Besides what would I do there?’

Beca’s response was immediate, as if her finger was on autopilot. - ‘Be here with me.’

Three dots appeared a moment later. ‘I almost believed you were inviting me to join you. 🤪’

Not sure where this inspiration was coming from, Beca decided to just lean into it.  ‘I am.’

Three dots appeared instantly. ‘Wait… are you serious?’

Beca smirked. ’Dead serious.q Come tour with me’

The response was immediate. ’Sending my resignation email NOW.’

‘Wait! Seriously?’

Three dots appeared again. ‘Of course. It’s not like The Daily Grind will miss me as a barista, or The Oak and Tap can’t find a new bartender. All I have to do now is let the school district know I won’t be available for substitute teaching…. Done!’

Reading this, Beca couldn’t believe Chloe was working three jobs. How had she not known Chloe was working three jobs. ‘You sure?’

Her phone rang, with a picture of Chloe making a cute scrunchie face lighting up her screen. Beca immediately thumbed the answer. 

“TOTES!!!” 

Glad she hadn’t brought the phone to her ear, Beca laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. Warmth flooded her chest at the thought of having Chloe with her.

“Nerd.”

“You love me.”

“I do,” said Beca honestly.

Life suddenly took a turn for the better. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel so alone.  

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 2: 

The Redhead Arrives

A very excited Beca was practically vibrating with anticipation. When sitting her leg bounced nonstop, a steady rhythm of nerves and excitement. She’d been checking her phone every five minutes for the last ninety—okay, ninety-five—minutes, but still, she glanced at it again, biting her lip as her eyes darted to the digital clock. She’d already run soundcheck, organized her wardrobe for the next night’s show, reorganized it, then abandoned the effort entirely to pace the green room. Nothing helped. She was buzzing. And yeah, maybe the four coffees she’d nervously downed this morning weren’t helping—but it wasn’t just caffeine. Chloe was almost here. And Beca couldn’t wait.

Standing just outside Beca’s green room, tablet in hand, Theo’ brow furrowed as he watched his artist pacing back and forth. Intrigued, he stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame. Beca was so laser-focused on her iPhone that she didn’t notice him leaning in her doorway and continued her pacing. For a full minute he watched as she paced back and forth, completely unaware of anything but the glowing screen in her hand. After another minute of silent observation, Theo cleared his throat. 

No response. 

With an exasperated sigh, he snapped, “Blimey, Beca! What’s got your knickers in a twist? You’re buzzing like a bee.” The sudden burst of British sarcasm startled her. She stopped mid-step and blinked at him like she didn’t know who he was, or what he asked.

“Oh hey, Dude,” Beca said as she started pacing again. 

“Seriously, Beca,” Theo said, “What has you being nervy?”

“Chloe’s flight landed like—ninety-five minutes ago. The car should be here any second. I just—ugh, I’m excited, okay?”

“Oh,” Theo cut in, his brows furrowed. “Chloe’s coming here?”

“Yeah dude,” Beca nodded as she continued to stare at her phone. “She’s joining me on tour.”

“Wait! On tour?” He narrowed his eyes. “You mean not for just a quick visit?”

“Nope,” answered Beca, not really paying attention. “She’s going to travel with us.”

“Since when?”

“Since last week,” Beca said, trying for casual but failing entirely. “I asked her to come travel with me for a while.”

Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “You invited her? And you didn’t run this by me?”

“I asked Khaled after our last Philadelphia show. He gave a thumbs up.”

“You should have run this by me,” Theo said with clear irritation.

Beca stopped pacing, folding her arms. “This isn’t a work thing, Theo. It has nothing to do with the shows or my recording schedule. It’s personal. After I got the okay from Khaled, I talked to Lizzy about it. She is my PA that you insisted I had to have. She did her job and made the arrangements.”

As if summoned, Lizzy appeared in the doorway, tablet in hand and cheeks slightly pink. “Hey, Beca; Chloe’s car just pulled in. She should be here in a few minutes.”

Beca lit up. “Yes!” She practically bolted from the room. “Gotta go!”

Lizzy turned to follow, but Theo stepped into her path, catching her gently but firmly by the elbow. “Lizzy, a word.”

She froze like a deer in headlights. “Uh… okay?”

“You need to keep me informed about all decisions like this,” he said, voice low and clipped. “I should’ve been consulted before Beca invited her friend on tour.”

Lizzy stammered, “I—I’m sorry. She’d already invited Chloe and booked the ticket before she even mentioned it to me. There really wasn’t.. ”

“Accommodations?” Theo interrupted. “Please tell me you’ve at least arranged something appropriate.”

“She’s, uh, staying with Beca,” Lizzy said quickly, eyes darting toward the hallway Beca had run down. “They’re sharing.”

Theo’s jaw clenched, clearly displeased. “No security clearance, no travel plan review, and she’s bunking with the artist.” He stepped back, adjusting the sleeves of his blazer. “From now on, I expect to be looped in on everything Beca is doing or planning. Understood?”

Lizzy nodded quickly, face pale. “Yes. Absolutely. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good.” He gave her a cool smile, then walked away without another word.

Lizzy stood frozen for a moment, then exhaled, muttering to herself, “This isn’t going to end well.”

------------

Quick walking to the rear entrance, Beca had to jump back as Chloe burst through the theater doors like a radiant beam of sunshine. Her presence instantly lit up the dim backstage corridor as she bounded forth. Her vibrant red hair bounced with each step, catching the glow of the overhead lights as she practically skipped forward. Her crystal blue eyes were wide with excitement, as if taking everything in. Those beautiful blue eyes grew larger when they landed on her favorite petite brunette. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Beca in an exuberant hug, nearly knocking the smaller woman off her feet.

“I can’t believe I’m here!” Chloe exclaimed, her voice bubbling with joy. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Momentarily stunned by the sudden rush of warmth and affection, Beca found herself smiling, really smiling, for the first time in what felt like forever. The stress of rehearsals, the weight of expectations as a newly minted headliner, and the constant pressure to prove herself all seemed to melt away in that instant. Chloe’s embrace, her laughter, her boundless energy, it was like coming up for air after being under water for too long.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” Beca murmured into Chloe’s red locks, really hugging her back tightly.

“Are you kidding?” Chloe asked as she pulled back just enough to beam at her. “Headlining your own tour? This is huge, Becs. I wasn’t going to miss this for anything.”

Beca glanced around the quiet backstage, through a gap she could see into the theater. Her eyes took in the empty seats waiting to be filled, and she thought about tomorrow night and what it would mean. She then turned back to Chloe and smiled. With her best friend by her side again, she felt the crushing weight of it all lessen. The possibility of this tour seemed to open up. Chloe had always been her anchor, and now she was her spark.

Their embrace was fierce and immediate, full of laughter, relief, and the kind of unspoken understanding that only years of friendship could forge. Beca buried her face in Chloe’s shoulder, clinging to her like a lifeline, her entire posture softening for the first time in weeks. Chloe’s smile was radiant, her hands clutching Beca like she never wanted to let go.

Theo, however, was less than thrilled.  

Across the room, Theo watched in silence, arms folded tightly over his chest. Chloe’s arrival had shifted the entire energy backstage. The fatigue that had dulled Beca’s expression for months vanished the second Chloe appeared. Her eyes were bright now—alive in a way Theo hadn’t seen in far too long.

His jaw tightened as he turned away.

------------

From the moment Chloe stepped out of the car and into the backstage world of the tour, it was clear that things were going  to change. She radiated warmth and joy, a natural cheerfulness that seemed to ripple through the corridors like a breeze blowing through a room that had been sealed too tightly. Her smile was easy, her greetings sincere, and she moved with the sort of effortless confidence that made people instinctively like her.

For Theo, however, Chloe’s arrival was nothing short of a disruption. The Englishman had spent months building a tightly controlled environment around Beca, precise schedules, carefully managed downtime, and a team briefed on exactly how to keep the artist in peak performance mode. Every minute was accounted for, every detail curated. And then Chloe Beale showed up with her red hair, bright eyes, and boundless enthusiasm, and in less than twenty-four hours, she’d upended it all.

By the end of the first day, she’d personally introduced herself to pretty much every crew member, from the gruff sound engineer to the shy wardrobe assistant. Beca was impressed, though not surprised at how Chloe greeted every crew member she passed by name, even though she was clearly just learning them.

For example when Chloe accompanied Beca to the final rehearsal for the day the redhead made a point to thank the catering staff with sincere gratitude for the craft services.

“This looks amazing,” Chloe said to the woman who was currently putting out trays of vegetables. “Do you mind if I put together a plate for my friend? She gets so busy she forgets to eat.”

“You do remember that I’m right here, right?” Beca snarked.

“Oh hush,” Chloe said as she waited for the caterer to reply.

The middle aged woman was surprised to be asked. She nodded as she said, “Sure, that’s what they’re there for. Help yourself.”

“Why thank you!” Chloe reached out her hand. “I’m Chloe.” 

She kept her hand out till the woman took it and said, “Mary.”

“Hi Mary, it’s so nice to meet you,” said Chloe as she shook the caterer’s hand. ”And this is my best friend, Beca.”

“Oh I know who Ms. Mitchell is,” Mary quickly said.

“Yeah,” said Chloe as she beamed at Beca. “She is pretty unforgettable.”

“Chlo,” Beca sighed even as she blushed.

“You need to eat,” said Chloe as she pushed a plate of raw vegetables and hummus into the younger woman’s hands. When Beca only responded by arching her right eyebrow. Chloe responded by placing her free hand on her hip and adopted a look that challenged Beca to disagree.

With a huff, Beca took the plate from Chloe. She grabs a carrot and crunches it loudly in response to Chloe’s broad grin. The redhead turned back to the caterer and asked, “Hey Mary, do you have any teas? Preferably herbal. Like maybe lemon chamomile?”

“Of course, dear.”

“Could I get two cups of lemon chamomile? With honey if you have it.”

The caterer smiled and assured Chloe she would get them right away. “Thanks Mary.” She noticed Beca giving her a look. “What?”

“Tea? Really Beale?”

“It’s good for your throat,” Chloe said, matter of factly. “I still drink it for my own throat. It’s very important that you take care of your throat; it is your money-maker. Speaking of which.” Chloe grabbed a water bottle and opened the top before handing it to Beca.

With a sigh, Beca accepted the bottle and took a sip before she said, “Fine,” and began to eat from the plate the redhead had made for her. Even as Chloe smiled, she pretended to not notice the corners of the brunette’s mouth also tugging upwards.

While they waited for their tea, Chloe noticed a young man walking by. She tugged on Beca’s arm and indicated the man. “Hey, have you met Isaiah? He’s a lighting tech for your show. Isaiah have you met Beca?”

“Hey Chloe,” said the young man as he pulled one of his ear buds out. “What was that?”

“I was wondering if you’ve met Beca?”

“Umm-I mean I know who she is, but never formally…”

“Beca, this is Isaiah Jackson, he’s one of your lighting techs, and a really cool guy,” said Chloe. “Isaiah, this is my best friend in the whole world, Beca Mitchell.”

“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Mitchell,” Isaiah said shaking Beca’s hand.

“Call me Beca, please. I don’t feel like a Ms.”

“What are ya listening to?” Chloe asked, nodding to his earbud.

“Tyler the Creator.”

“Igor?” Chloe asked.

“You got it,” answered the lighting technician.

“Nice.”

“Hey, I got to work on a couple lights that have been on the fritz. I’ll talk to you later.”

As Isaiah headed off Mary returned with two mugs of lemon chamomile teas, and a plastic bear of honey.

“You’ve been here less than six hours,” Beca pointed out. “How do you know anyone?”

Chloe shrugged her shoulders and said, “I’ve just been lucky, I guess.” She accepted the honey bear, and proceeded to add a fair amount into both teas. “Thanks again, Mary.”

The redhead took small sips from each mug, making sure of their temperature and the proper sweetness. She added just a touch more honey, took one last sip of each, and then offered one to Beca.

“Dude!” Beca declared as she subtly recoiled from the offered mug.

“What?” Chloe asked, actually surprised by Beca’s reaction.

“You sipped from it,” whispered Beca.

“Yes,” Chloe said, perplexed. “And?”

“You, sipped from it,” Beca whispered again, even as she accepted the mug.

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe said sternly. “Are you implying I have cooties?”

“WHAT!?!” Beca practically shouted. She noticed people looking in their direction. In a quieter voice she said, “No!”

“Then you have no reason not to drink it,” Chloe said with a sickly sweet smile.

“Ugh—Fine,” Beca huffed as she took a sip of the tea. She had to admit Chloe got the taste just right. Beca could only shake her head as she and Chloe sipped their teas.

------------

This pattern continued as Chloe effortlessly complimented people, without pandering, and asked real questions about their lives or what they did on the tour. Her warmth was disarming. Even the most reserved team members found themselves laughing at her jokes or accepting her offers to help move gear.

On her second morning, Chloe arrived with a box of donuts and a box of coffee for the stagehands. “It’s a big day, and you guys are the heart of this operation,” she said brightly, as she poured and handed out coffees with the ease of someone who’d been on the road for years. 

She looked about as the night’s performance was prepared for. The venue thrummed with a quiet intensity, a tension charged stillness that settled over the space as the soundcheck played out as a prelude to something bigger. Chloe knew this wasn’t just any performance, it was to be Beca’s first time headlining. The weight of that milestone pressed into every note, every adjustment, every preparation.

The redhead picked up the subtle question that hummed just beneath the surface, infusing the room with urgency that wasn’t typical. Could Beca rise to the moment? Could Beca carry a show as the headliner? These questions lingered unspoken, heavy in the eyes of the crew and musicians.

Of course if anyone were to ask her, Chloe would have assured them that the situation was in the bag. If there was one thing she knew, Beca Mitchell was a star on the rise.

She wanted to assure everyone that everything was going to be alright, but being so new, she felt it wasn’t her place. She knew soundchecks were usually routine. The stagehands would test the equipment, balance levels. The singers and the band would rehearse a few transitions, make sure the music sounded right, then move on. 

From scattered comments and overheard conversations, she also knew today was different. The usual rhythm was giving way to a deeper focus. Time stretched. Rehearsals repeated. Every detail was overly scrutinized.

As Beca took her place behind her electric piano, Chloe sensed the shift immediately. The stage, once familiar, now felt different, as if it was anticipating, waiting. Beca’s fingers hovered above the keys, not just to test the sound but to signal that she was ready to step into something greater. It was quite apparent to Chloe this wasn’t just preparation. She had seen it before, at the ICCA Finals, at the World Championships. It was a transformation in motion.

Chloe stood near the wings, arms folded but eyes wide, watching Beca work. With her there, things seemed to move a bit more smoothly. The engineers moved like clockwork, checking each mic with precision. The harmonies layered neatly over the instrumentation, woven together with just enough clarity to enhance Beca’s lead without overshadowing it.

The backup band was warming up, each musician running through their sections with practiced ease. Drums pulsed, basslines thudded, and guitar riffs shimmered into the open space. Beca ran a few piano chords and layered them into a simple loop, nodding to the engineer who adjusted the EQ and monitored gain levels from the sideboard. The mix was coming together, clean, warm, and punchy, just how Beca liked it.

Flanking Beca onstage were her four backup singers, each one strikingly beautiful and undeniably charismatic. Of course Chloe had seen them plenty of times before in YouTube clips of Beca’s performances, but this was her first time seeing them in person. They moved with the easy confidence of seasoned performers, bodies tuned to rhythm like instruments of their own. Though she hadn’t met them yet, Chloe was pretty sure she knew who was who, thanks to the way Beca had talked about each of them in late-night calls, text messages and sleepy voice messages.

The singers didn’t use mic stands, those would’ve anchored them in place. Instead, they wore sleek headset mics that gave them full range of movement, allowing their choreography to flow freely across the stage. Even now, in the bare-bones environment of soundcheck, their presence filled the space with kinetic energy. Each mic check was executed with professional precision. The sound engineer worked carefully, blending their voices so that their harmonies soared with clarity, cutting through the instrumentation like polished glass but never overshadowing Beca’s lead.

One singer, the one Chloe was pretty certain was Natasha, the one Beca described as “the Shakira of the group”—moved with an easy sensuality. Pink streaks in her jet-black hair flashed under the house lights as she let the beat pull her deeper into motion. Her shoulders rolled, her hips swayed, and her face remained calm, grounded in the rhythm like it was something she breathed.

Beside her, another singer, this one rocking a fierce golden-blonde faux hawk and a mocha complexion that glowed beneath the spotlights, caught the groove. Chloe recalled Beca saying her name was Arianna Joy, but went by AJ. Her movements were tighter, punchier, her hips popped with sharp intention, her limbs slicing the air with a dancer’s precision. She had a presence that demanded attention.

The third singer, tall and graceful, had that effortless kind of beauty that made Chloe immediately think of Stacie Conrad, if not her twin, then definitely a close cousin. Chloe was fairly certain her name was Skye. As Skye turned and caught sight of something offstage, her grin widened. She nudged AJ with her elbow, whispering something.

AJ looked in the same direction—and then so did the others.

They were looking at Chloe.

Unaware that eyes were on her, Chloe had begun to move—just a subtle sway of her hips, a gentle roll of her shoulders, instinctively syncing to the infectious rhythm pulsing through the rehearsal space. The music was impossible to ignore, and Chloe, always one to feel with her whole body, had surrendered without even realizing it. But the backup singers had noticed.

“You Go Red!”

Chloe froze mid-sway, caught in the act. She looked over at the singers. The grins that spread across the stage were anything but mocking.

“Come on, Red! Show us your moves!” called out the tall beauty with the mischievous grin, Skye, Chloe was sure of it now. Her voice rang out with teasing warmth, and her posture all but dared Chloe to step in.

Chloe blinked, caught somewhere between mortified and delighted. She hadn’t realized she’d been moving at all, but now caught in the spotlight, or at least several pairs of eyes that were clearly focused on her, she swallowed nervously and wasn’t sure what to do. A surprised and nervous laugh escaped her, musical and airy. She shot a look toward Beca, hoping for rescue, but found none.

Beca was already watching, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Go on,” she mouthed silently, nodding toward the backup performers.

Still a bit nervous, Chloe hesitated, then took a deep breath  and stepped onto the stage between Skye and Natasha. She moved with tentative grace at first, unsure if she belonged in this space. But the music caught her like a wave and carried her forward. The faces of the backup singers were warm and supportive, nothing derisive or sarcastic. Her hesitation vanished with the next beat.

The backup singers welcomed her without missing a step. Natasha offered a playful nod, AJ gave her a twirl-worthy beat, and within moments, Chloe was moving in perfect sync with the group. Their choreography came alive—not rehearsed or rigid, but fluid and joyful, filled with laughter and shared rhythm.

The rhythm guitarist picked up the vibe, tossing in a funky riff. The drummer locked in with a crisp beat. Hearing it, Beca flipped on the recording device she always had with her on stage. Nearly every show included moments worthy of recording and building upon later. She was also becoming known for using them immediately in a loop. Even as she began recording, she also began to caress the keys, and her instrument began to purr a jazzy riff that blended perfectly with what was playing. She didn’t have any lyrics, yet, so she began to hum along.

The sound was magical.

Within moments, what had been a mic check turned into a spontaneous jam session. Members of the stage crew clapped along from the wings, even the lighting techs joined in, throwing in a few of their own dance moves while cables and cues were momentarily forgotten, as were the nerves and tension.

If this was the music that would swirl around Beca Mitchell at a simple mic check, then imagine what she was going to deliver during her actual performances.

Now fully immersed, Chloe danced like she belonged there. Every step matched the beat, every motion echoed years of muscle memory from the Bellas, to dance classes she had continued even after college. Years of Zumba and Jazzercise sessions made it easier for her to keep up with these professionals. It didn’t hurt that on more than a few occasions she had mirrored their moves alone in her apartment while she was watching Beca’s YouTube videos; of course she’d never admit to doing that. 

The backup singers were effusive in their praise, especially AJ and Skye. In that moment, Chloe’s secret fantasy of being part of Beca’s world onstage didn’t feel so unobtainable. 

It felt real.

Looking over towards her best friend, Chloe saw Beca, at the center of it all, surrounded by harmony, rhythm. The musical genius who transformed all those sounds into music. The redhead couldn’t hide the smile she always had for Beca.

As if feeling the intensity of Chloe’s focus, Beca looked up from her keys, taking it all in, the movement, the music, Chloe’s smile, and something in her chest bloomed. With a wide grin, while still playing, she motioned for Chloe to come towards her. Without missing a beat, when Chloe was within reach, she grabbed the redhead’s hand and spun her in a playful twirl, the music continuing to swirl around them like a warm summer breeze.

---------

Offstage, Theo stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set in quiet disapproval. His eyes tracked the scene unfolding onstage; Chloe laughing, dancing, completely at ease among Beca’s crew. It was as if a flash mob had erupted in the middle of his meticulously organized schedule. 

This was not part of the plan. 

Not the vibe. 

Not the timing. 

Certainly not what he’d envisioned when he’d agreed to Khaled’s offer to manage this tour and guide Beca Mitchell to stardom. His gaze narrowed, a flicker of frustration tightening at the corners of his eyes. Every beat of joy radiating from the stage only amplified the sense that control was slipping from his grasp. And Theo didn’t like losing control, especially not to an airhead redhead who seemed to have perfect timing.

She was most definitely NOT part of the plan.

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 3: 

The Concert

As the opening act took the stage, Theo seized the moment to confront Beca before she performed. He had made sure Chloe was settled in a private suite with a prime view of the concert, safely away from Beca for now.

He found Beca alone in her dressing room, scrolling through her phone while stretched out on the couch. Without hesitation, he closed the door behind him. “We need to talk,” he said firmly.

Glancing up from her phone, Beca was unconcerned, Theo often wanted to talk before she went on stage. “Hey, dude,” she said, flashing a casual smile. Her thumbs paused over her phone screen. Theo was certain she’d been texting Chloe. She cocked an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Chloe,” Theo said, his tone clipped. “Her presence is disrupting the energy of the tour. Things are getting too relaxed.”

“You say that like it’s a problem,” Beca said nonchalantly. “It doesn’t look that way to me.”

This answer caused Theo to pause a fraction of a second. Not enough for the young brunette to notice, but enough for him to think that the problem might be worse than he believed. For all her talk about being a difficult person to work with, Beca had actually been rather easy to guide; she had always taken his advice.

“We had a short window between wrapping Khaled’s tour and starting your headlining leg,” Theo replied, trying to keep his voice even. “Sure, we allowed some downtime this week, but that’s over. From here on out, things tighten up. There’s no room for distraction.”

Beca rolled her eyes. “Distraction? Theo, she’s not a liability. If anything, she’s a boost. The crew’s in high spirits. I’m in high spirits. We’re not falling apart, we’re thriving.”

“That’s not the point,” said Theo as his  jaw tightened. “The schedule ahead is brutal. To pull this off, we need focus, everyone doing their part, at the top of their game. Discipline…”

“Discipline?” Beca asked with a raised eyebrow. “You sound like my friend Aubrey in my freshman year.” Memories of the highly wound blonde caused Beca to chuckle.

The chuckle infuriated Theo. He could see the influence of the ginger was worse than he feared.  He remembered her from the USO tour, and being concerned about her then, but those fears had been unfounded, till now.

“Look,” Theo started, keeping his voice even. He knew he had to keep it reasonable. Pushing too hard would only make Beca dig in and resist more. “We are going to be very busy soon. Without Khaled’s crew, it’s all on your team. There’s no place for distractions. No improvising.”

Beca smirked, completely unfazed. She put her phone aside and ran her fingers absentmindedly over the couch's armrest. “Maybe the plan needed a little improvising,” she said, her tone light but defiant.

Theo stared at her, frustration simmering just below the surface. But Beca remained calm, unbothered. The message was clear, Chloe wasn’t going anywhere. And the tour might just have to make room for that.

------------

From her vantage point in the private suite Theo had arranged for her, Chloe had the perfect view of the stage. She was high enough to take in the full spectacle, low enough to feel the thrum of the bass vibrating through the floor and see every smirk, wink, and half-grin Beca tossed out into the sea of fans. The arena below stretched like a living, breathing organism, thousands of glowing phones raised high, bodies swaying in time, and the collective hum of adrenaline and awe thick in the air. But Chloe barely noticed the crowd. Her eyes were fixed on the stage.

It was the first time she’d seen the full show from beginning to end and live. She’d watched the snippets on Instagram, liked every behind-the-scenes post, and even sat through shaky YouTube footage that barely caught Beca’s vocals over the screaming. None of it came close to this. Nothing could have prepared her for the sheer power that was Beca Mitchell live. The bass drop was harder, the harmonies tighter, and the lyrics hit just a little different live.

Beca was utterly in her element. The way she owned the stage wasn’t loud or flashy, it was confident, magnetic. Every beat of the music seemed to echo her movements, and the lighting wrapped around her like a partner in sync, flashes of white and gold during the highs, deeper hues during the breaks, strobes flickering with each shift in tempo. She was electric, and Chloe could feel it from up here: the energy, the control, the fire.

But Beca wasn’t alone. Her four backup singers added their own magic to the performance. Each brought something unique—Natasha with her powerhouse alto runs, Skye’s silky harmonies, AJ’s infectious charisma, and Minh’s pitch-perfect precision. They weren’t just backing Beca up, they were elevating her. Their voices layered seamlessly with hers, adding richness and texture, trading verses and echoing lines like they were born to sing together. When they came together on the chorus, the blend was euphoric. The choreography, sharp and sleek, only enhanced the sound; clean movements and synchronized turns that brought dimension and rhythm to the stage without distracting from the music.

Then came the remix, one of Beca’s mashups from their college days. Chloe let out a soft laugh of delight, remembering listening to it in her room when Beca brought it to her for her opinion. It was unexpected, new tempo, new layers, and yet unmistakably Beca. The next song was also  a reimagined mashup from her old library with a deeper bassline and a more intricate arrangement. Delighted, Chloe sang along. The new tempo made the song hit harder, edgier, and it was clear the crowd felt it too. The backup singers took center stage for a moment, harmonizing in a four-part breakdown that sent chills up Chloe’s spine before Beca slid back in with her signature vocal twist.

Chloe found herself moving in her seat, her fingers tapping against the railing as she swayed without even thinking. Her face lit up, eyes wide, lips parted in a smile she couldn’t stop. This—this—was what the videos never showed. This was the full force of Beca’s vision, brought to life.

Beca’s voice sounded perfect. Raw in places, polished in others, but always real. And the way Beca moved, grounded but fluid, powerful but unassuming, made the whole thing even more magnetic. There was something contagious about it. Even from up here, Chloe could feel it: the connection Beca had with her audience, with her music, with herself.

Then came a slower song.

The tempo shifted. The lights softened. Deep blues and purples slid across the stage, crawling up the walls, washing over Chloe’s skin like cool water. The bass was slower now, but deeper, thudding through the floor and into her body like a second heartbeat. Down below, Beca stepped into a narrow spotlight, her head bowed as she sang. Chloe could see every nuance in her face: the slight furrow in her brow, the emotion sitting just beneath the surface, the way her mouth shaped each lyric like it mattered.

She wasn’t just performing. She was feeling every word.

And Chloe could only sit there, completely still, her breath caught in her throat. The intimacy of it overwhelmed her. She’d known Beca for years; seen her behind the scenes, laughed with her, cried with her, but this version? This vulnerable, commanding, radiant performer?

Chloe wasn’t ready for it.

Watching Beca live wasn’t like anything on Instagram or YouTube. It wasn’t curated or filtered or captioned. It was real. Raw and exhilarating and a little overwhelming. And as the final notes echoed through the arena and the lights dimmed again, Chloe simply gulped, blinking, breathless, completely lost in awe.

------------

Backstage, the air was thick with adrenaline, leftover smoke from the pyrotechnics, and the buzzing high of a show well-played. The band was practically glowing, their grins wide and still sweaty from the heat of the stage. Beca stood off to the side, towel draped around her neck, taking steady breaths and sips of water as she waited for the moment she’d be called back out for her encore.

Around her, her four backup singers were in full-on post-show euphoria.

“That crowd was lit,” Natasha gushed, practically bouncing in place. “Like, I could feel the floor shaking under my boots. I thought I was gonna lift off.”

“Did you hear them during the remix?” Skye added. “They screamed. That layered breakdown section? Dead. I’m dead. We crushed that.”

Skye high-fived AJ. “That’s the cleanest we’ve ever hit that last harmony. Beca, girl, I’m telling you, you’re on fire tonight.”

Beca chuckled, but didn’t quite let herself bask in it. Her mind was racing ahead, one hand twitching at her side, like it already wanted to be on the keys again. The crowd’s energy was still roaring in her ears even though the walls were muffling most of it.

She glanced toward Lizzy, who was triple-checking the upcoming cues on her tablet. “Hey Lizzy,” Beca said, almost casually, “did we get the permission for that additional song?”

Lizzy looked up from her tablet, startled for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, Ms. Mitchell….”

Beca shot her a pointed look.

“Right, right. Yes, Beca. Mr. Khaled said David was happy to have you use it, and would be willing to negotiate a reasonable fee if we decide to release it.”

“So I can use it tonight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Beca groaned. “Seriously dude, ma’am is worse than Ms. Mitchell.”

“Yes ma’am—I mean—sorry ma’am,” Lizzy fumbled, eyes wide with panic.

“Breathe, Lizzy. It’s okay. We’ll work on it.”

She scanned the tech team and spotted a familiar face. “Isaiah! It’s Isaiah, right?”

He turned from the lighting console and gave her a salute. “Yes ma’am.”

“Oh for the love of…” Beca sighed, rubbing her temple. “I’m going to have a long talk with everyone about not calling me ma’am.”

“Sorry,” Isaiah said, sheepish but amused.

“No worries,” Beca waved it off. “How hard is it to make a change to the lights?”

“Depends. What do you want?”

“I want a single spotlight to slowly come up, centered on my piano. Just me at first. Darkness everywhere else.”

Isaiah grinned. “Piece of cake. We’ve already got three lights focused on the piano. I can bring it up as slow or as dramatic as you want.”

“Perfect.” Beca turned and signaled for her singers and the band to huddle in.

“I need to get back out there. This is taking too long,” she said, tone brisk but excited. “I’m adding a song to the encore.”

All eyes widened.

She looked to Isaiah again. “Leave me in darkness as I begin to play. Bring the spotlight up slowly as I sing. Then, once it’s up, everyone else takes their spots. The rest plays out like we rehearsed.”

“So you’re adding just the one song?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” Beca nodded. “It’s kind of special. For Chloe and me.”

“Ooooooo,” the four singers chorused with identical grins.

Beca’s blush gave her away. “Okay, that’s my cue,” she muttered, grabbing a final sip of water before slipping out into the shadows of the stage.

Just as she was about to step into position, Theo appeared, flustered.

“Beca,” he said, crisp British accent sharp with tension, “is there a problem? You’re behind schedule.”

“Can’t talk now, dude,” she said with a half-smirk. “Have to get on stage. I’m behind schedule.” And with that, she was gone, vanishing into the darkness with nothing but the faint click of her boots.

Grumbling about diva popstars, Theo blinked after her, then turned back to the group, confused. “Shouldn’t you lot be heading out after her?”

“Change of plans,” said AJ, calm as ever. “Bee’s starting with a solo.”

“Just her and her piano,” added Skye.

Theo frowned. “The first song of the encore doesn’t work as a piano solo.”

“Guess it’s a good thing she’s doing a different song,” Natasha said with a smirk.

“Wait—what?” Theo’s voice rose, tight with frustration. He turned on Lizzy. “Do you know about this?”

“Uhhh-ummm….” Lizzy stammered, caught between loyalty and fear.

But she was saved by the sound of Beca’s fingers striking the first quiet, deliberate chord on the piano. The crowd fell silent as Beca continued to play. A single spotlight began to rise, slow and soft, lighting up the keys, and Beca, in a warm, golden glow.

------------

Chloe sat frozen in her seat, her eyes wide and her hand covering her mouth. The performance Beca had just delivered left her speechless. It was raw, electric, and utterly unforgettable. She could still feel the aftershocks of it buzzing under her skin. For a moment, the entire suite felt suspended in time, as though the crowd below were collectively holding their breath.

Then a shift.

The stage went dark, the lights fully dimmed, and minutes passed.

Too many minutes.

Chloe leaned forward, a small furrow between her brows. The audience, unsure of what to expect, was beginning to stir again, cheering, clapping, then quieting, then starting up again with more urgency. A few chants of “Beca! Beca!” started to build from different corners of the arena, gaining traction. But Chloe could feel it, a ripple of restlessness starting to spread.

Then, from the center of the darkness, a single piano note rang out. 

Soft. 

Measured. 

More notes followed, gaining volume, becoming a melody. Becoming…

Familiar.

The crowd roared in relief and excitement, though Chloe still couldn’t quite place the melody. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant. Then the notes started to build, threading into a tune she recognized, but couldn’t quite believe she was hearing.

And then Beca sang.

“You shout it out… but I can’t hear a word you say…”

Chloe’s breath caught.

“I'm talking loud, not saying much

I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet

You shoot me down, but I get up”

No way.

Beca’s voice is warm and beautiful, maybe as beautiful as Chloe’s ever heard the younger woman.

“I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose

Fire away, fire away

Ricochet, you take your aim

Fire away, fire away”

As the spotlight slowly rose, its warm glow isolating Beca at her piano in a stunning, iconography c visual moment, Chloe’s suspicion was confirmed. Beca was singing Titanium. Their song. Not some album track or a single from the tour. That song.

Chloe’s mouth fell open in disbelief, then curled into a knowing, incredulous grin. “That little shit,” she whispered, almost laughing.

There was absolutely no way Beca could see her from the suite, no way she could hear her over the thousands of screaming fans—but as if on cue, Beca looked up directly toward her suite. And smirked. And winked.

Chloe’s heart just about melted.

She sat back slowly, hand over her heart, watching as Beca poured everything she had into the performance—no pyro, no dancers, no backing vocals. Just her voice, her piano, and that spotlight. It was intimate and devastating and so completely Beca.

When the final note of Titanium faded, the band and backup singers returned, slipping into place with effortless precision. The energy surged again, and the final three encore songs played out as originally planned—powerful, polished, and joyous.

But for Chloe, the night had already peaked.

------------

The roar of the audience was still thunderous as Beca and her crew stepped offstage, the sound echoing down the corridor like a storm that refused to pass. The chant was unmistakable—thousands of voices pulsing in unison.

“BE-CA! BE-CA!”

The backup singers were practically vibrating with energy, their grins wide, sweat still glistening on their faces.

“We were legend,” AJ declared, throwing both hands in the air like she was basking in applause all over again.

“That was wicked smart,” Natasha chimed in, breathless but beaming, her black eyeliner only slightly smudged from the effort.

With a dramatic sigh, Skye flopped down onto one of the nearby cases and let out a whoop. “I swear we’ve never been tighter than that. That version of Titanium? That spotlight moment? Chef’s kiss.” She kissed the tips of her fingers as she opened her hand.

Beca, flushed and still trying to calm her racing heart, ducked her head and gave a sheepish smile. “You guys are just being nice,” she said modestly, her cheeks pink from more than just the heat of the stage.

“Bee, you crushed it,” said Minh, resting a hand on Beca’s shoulder. “Own it.”

Before Beca could respond, a crisp British accent sliced into the joyful haze.

“Beca,” said Theo, striding into view with his tablet already pulled up. “I have some notes from the show. There are a few places where we can tighten the performance.”

Beca blinked, the high of the moment slightly dulled.

Stepping in between Beca and the Englishman, AJ crossed her arms and said, “Aww, lay off, Theo. She was bang on out there.”

Theo’s brows lifted, clearly surprised by the interruption. “I’m simply saying we could crack on, refine the set, and be the best.”

He turned back to Beca. “Now, first…”

“BECS!”

Chloe’s voice rang out a split-second before she launched herself into the backstage area. Before anyone could react, she crashed into Beca full-body, arms locked around the petite woman, the impact knocking Beca clean off her feet.

“Whoa—!” Beca squeaked, startled, but before they hit the ground, Skye and Minh caught them both, one bracing Beca’s shoulders, the other supporting Chloe’s back. Chloe didn’t even seem to notice. She was fully wrapped around Beca, squeezing her like her life depended on it.

All Beca could do was clutch her back, dazed but grinning like an idiot, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now. “You okay?” she whispered.

“I’m perfect,” Chloe breathed against her neck. “You were… incredible.”

Theo cleared his throat loudly. “Beca, if I may….”

“Give it up,” Natasha said, not even looking at him as she pulled a bottle of water from a cooler and tossed it to Jules. “You’re not winning that battle tonight.”

AJ patted Theo’s arm. “You’ll have to wait for tomorrow, mate. Tonight’s a celebration.”

“We leave for Pittsburgh tonight,” Theo protested, a little exasperated.

“And a few drinks will make sleeping on the bus easier,” said Skye with a shrug. “My guess is Bee’s going to have a few Irish Redheads.”

Shocked by the turn of events, Theo opened his mouth to protest again, but it was too late. The band and backup singers had already taken over, flanking Beca and Chloe on either side. Before he could get another word in, they swept the couple down the hallway, laughing and chatting all the way back toward the green room.

“Come on, Theo,” AJ called back, smirking. “You’re invited too. But only if you don’t bring the tablet.”

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 4: 

Midnight Run

------------

By the end of the third day after Chloe’s arrival, the difference in Beca was impossible to ignore. The once tightly-wound music star moved through the day with a newfound ease. The tension that usually clung to her before her performances had dissipated. Her second show remained razor-sharp, but like her first show it was infused with something more, an unspoken joy, and a sense of grounding. 

That was the effect of Chloe. She was the tether Beca hadn’t known she needed.

Having watched the encore the night before from the suite, Chloe decided to make use of her VIP credentials and slipped backstage to Beca’s green room. There, she struck up a cheerful conversation with Lizzy, Beca’s earnest and slightly anxious mousy PA. The two were deep in discussion, Chloe animated and grinning, Lizzy cautious but intrigued.

“We definitely need a karaoke night,” Chloe declared with a sparkle in her eye. When Lizzy hesitated, Chloe quickly softened the pitch. “After the tour, of course. No need to put any strain on Beca or the Becketts’ voices.”

“The Becketts?” Lizzy echoed with a puzzled expression.

Before Chloe could explain, the door opened and Beca entered. Her energy was noticeably deflated from the electric high of her just finished set. She looked like someone who’d just run a marathon and only now realized how tired she was. Still, when she saw Chloe waiting for her, something in her posture eased.

Chloe took one look at her best friend and made an executive decision. “What time does the bus leave for Columbus?” she asked Lizzy.

“Two AM,” Lizzy replied without missing a beat.

“Perfect,” Chloe said, grinning.

Fatigue washed over Beca who dropped onto the nearby couch with a soft thud. “AJ and Natasha invited us to another after-party,” she muttered, sounding more resigned than enthusiastic.

“Do you want another night of drinking?” Chloe asked with a tilt of her head. 

Beca seemed to consider, then shook her head. “Not really. Last night was great, but I’m running on fumes. You know me, I was never the party type. Back at Barden, you, Amy, or Stacie practically had to drag me to anything remotely social.”

“I never dragged you to parties,” Chloe huffed with mock offense.

“No,” Beca conceded with a tired smile. “You just hit me with those impossibly huge blue eyes and the world’s saddest pout. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Chloe smirked. “Sounds about right.”

“So, you’re sure you don’t want to go out with the Becketts tonight?” she teased.

“No—uhh—wait—who?”

“PERFECT!” Chloe said, completely ignoring the question and shooting to her feet. “You, my dear, need a Finals Week Fill-Up.”

Those words made Beca’s eyes lit up. “Wait. You mean—?”

“Oh yeah.” Chloe nodded with a mischievous gleam.

“I’m so in!” Beca sat up straighter, the fatigue momentarily forgotten.

Turning back to Lizzy, Chloe said sweetly, “Would you mind letting the Becketts know we’re skipping the party?”

Automatically moving towards the door, Lizzy paused, clearly still unsure who ‘the Becketts’ were.

“The Becketts?” Beca squinted. 

“AJ, Minh, Natasha, and Skye. Your backup singers,” Chloe answered as if this was all self-evident.

“You named my backup singers?” Beca asked, incredulously. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Chloe said with an arched brow, utterly unbothered.

“Because… I don’t know, uhh—maybe—maybe they wouldn’t want to be called that?”

“Oh, no worries there,” Chloe beamed. “Already ran it by them. They loved it. Group chat approved.”

“That’s…” Beca tried to protest, “But I should’ve been…”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Chloe said, cutting her off with a wink. “You’ve got a tour to run. Let me handle the fun stuff.”

“I’ll tell the Becketts,” Lizzy said quickly, escaping before Beca could protest further.

Five minutes later, Beca emerged transformed. Hoodie up, sunglasses on, utterly unnecessary since it was after midnight, but they gave her the sense of anonymity she craved. Chloe was waiting by the exit, hands in her pockets, looking like the ringleader of a very unserious heist.

“You ready for the best-worst idea of the night?” Chloe asked in a low whisper.

“Always,” Beca smirked. 

And with that, the two slipped out into the night like teenagers breaking curfew, giddy with anticipation and the promise of late-night tacos and a break from being Beca Mitchell—Headliner.

They ducked into the shadows, laughter trailing behind them.

------------

Moving through the backstage area with purpose, Theo was determined to ensure his authority. With his tablet tucked under one arm he directed the teardown of equipment with brisk efficiency. The Pittsburgh show had been another undeniable success, sold out, standing-room energy, and a crowd that roared for Beca’s every note. 

Objectively, things were going well. The set had run tight, the band was on point, and Beca herself had been nothing short of electric on stage.

Yet Theo’s mind wasn’t focused on celebration.

There were always improvements to be made. Transitions that could be smoother. Cues that could hit sharper. And beyond the performance, he had a more personal concern, his authority. Ever since Chloe’s arrival, the balance of influence had tilted, and decidedly not in his favor. Beca’s focus had shifted, her availability grown more erratic. She was not at his beck and call as she had been. He had spent lots of time and energy instilling the necessity of that in her. Then in the span of seventy- two hours his hard work and patience had unraveled.

The bloody Ginger had become a wild card in Theo’s carefully managed equation.

Now, with the post-show chaos in full swing, he saw an opportunity to reassert some order.

He gave clipped directions to crew members packing cables and cases, corrected a few loading issues, and tried to steady the ship. But all the while, he was hunting.

For his missing pop princess.

When he realized Beca wasn’t in her green room, a sharp frown creased his face. He knew the timetable for the buses, and that they hadn’t  arrived yet. Which meant his petite money-maker couldn’t have left the venue.

“Where is she?” he demanded, tone tight as he scanned the backstage corridors. His eyes landed on AJ, who was lounging against a stack of flight cases, still flushed from the performance, sipping from a water bottle.

“AJ,” Theo barked, skipping any pleasantries. “Where’s Beca?”

AJ raised an eyebrow at his tone, a slow smirk forming. “Chill, boss man. She dipped out with Red.”

“Now?” Theo asked through a clenched jaw. ”We haven’t even gone over the show. We still have transitions to tighten before Columbus.”

“Easy now, you’re having kittens, boss, you need to chill,” said AJ as she stood straighter and crossed her arms. “She crushed it tonight, boss. That girl was on fire. Maybe let her enjoy the moment instead of dissecting it even before the applause fades.”

But Theo wasn’t listening anymore. The words dipped out echoed ominously. “Wait, did she leave the building?”

“Pretty sure,” AJ said with a casual nod. “She begged off having drinks with us, and I saw her and the Ginge head toward the back exit.”

Theo cursed under his breath, pulling out his phone immediately. First, he tried Beca. Straight to voicemail. Then he tried Lizzy, hoping the PA might have tagged along or at least known where they’d gone. No answer. He tried again, still nothing.

“Damn it,” he muttered, pacing a few tight steps. His worry was no longer just about authority or schedules, it was about security. Beca might be new to stardom, but she was still a rising pop star with a growing fanbase. She wasn’t supposed to wander off without protection, not even for a midnight snack.

“All I know is she left with Red,” AJ added with a shrug. “Didn’t say where. Just… walked out, smilin.”

That last part landed like a punch to Theo’s gut. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, frustration simmering just below the surface. It wasn’t just that Beca had vanished, it was who she’d vanished with.

As he stalked off down the corridor, AJ shook her head and muttered, “She’s not a machine, dude. Let her have her laugh.”

------------

Walking down a dim, quiet side street, Chloe led the way with her phone out, following the glowing blue dot on Google Maps. The night air was warm and still, the kind that made the city feel like it was holding its breath. They turned a corner, and there it was: a flickering brightly lit sign humming like a beacon in the night, Taco Bell.

The sight of it made Beca laugh out loud.

“God, I love that sign,” she said.

“I figured you might,” Chloe replied with a proud smile. “Finals Fill-Up, remember?”

That simple phrase triggered a flood of memories. Late-night study sessions. Takeout wrappers across her desk. Beca bleary-eyed but focused, Chloe coaxing the younger woman out for a break. Taco Bell had always been their spot—greasy, cheap, and gloriously low-effort. It was comfort food wrapped in nostalgia.

The restaurant was exactly what they expected—old, worn, buzzing under tired fluorescent lights. It smelled faintly of fryer grease and floor cleaner. A few other late-night stragglers were scattered across the plastic booths, heads down in their own greasy hauls.

Beca and Chloe approached the counter and, true to form, ordered far too much: soft tacos, nachos supreme, burrito supremes, something vaguely unsettling called a ‘Crunchwrap’, and a cinnamon twist “for balance.” The only disagreement came over drinks.

“Mountain Dew,” Beca declared, already reaching for it on the screen.

Chloe intercepted. “Becs. You need sleep tonight. Caffeine is not your friend.”

“But Chlo,” Beca protested, dangerously close to a full-on whine. “It’s so gooood. It’s like the nectar of the gods.”

“It’s liquid insomnia,” Chloe replied, and tapped the screen to order two waters.

Beca pouted. “Water is so boring.”

“You will thank me when you’re able to sleep tonight,” Chloe said with a smirk.

“I’ll sleep just fine if I get to be the big spoon, tonight,” Beca asserted.

“Hmmmm—how about this, you drink water, and I’ll let you be the big spoon,” Chloe offered.

“Fine,” Beca reluctantly agreed, as their food was laid out on the counter.

With their trays piled high, they collapsed into a booth next to the front window, their bounty between them. Chloe cracked open the waters, while Beca unwrapped a taco with the reverence of unsealing a sacred artifact.

They were already giggling before the first bite, the kind of laughter that only came from dropping the weight of the world, even if just for a little while.

“Tell me this isn’t the peak of human happiness,” Chloe said around a mouthful of nachos.

“There’s just something about Taco Bell at midnight,” Beca replied, raising her taco in salute.

Chloe tapped her own against it while making a soft click with her tongue. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

“You were amazing again tonight,” Chloe said after a few quiet moments.

“Yeah,” Beca said, feigning gravity. “That was the peak. It’s all downhill from here.”

“Oh, please.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’ve only just scratched the surface of your talent. You’re gonna blow past this.”

Beca looked at her, something vulnerable flickering behind her smirk. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“I’ve always believed it,” Chloe said softly. “Ever since the activities fair. And definitely after our shower duet.”

A very vivid memory caused Beca to blush, which caused Chloe to grin even bigger.

This, this moment, was exactly what Beca had needed when she invited Chloe onto this tour. No stage lights. No crowds. No expectations. Just quiet moments that allowed her to remain grounded and herself.

Just Chloe. Tacos. And a quiet little act of rebellion. The best kind of rebellion, silly, spontaneous, and shared with her most important person.

------------

“Thanks, Chlo.”

“For what?” Chloe asked, glancing over with a smile.

“For this,” Beca said, gesturing vaguely to the quiet street they were walking down. “For coming on tour. For dropping everything and just… being here. For always being here.” She stopped and turned to face her. “For being my best friend.”

The sincerity in Beca’s voice caught Chloe off guard. For a moment, she just looked at her, heart full, before replying softly, “You’re welcome, Becs.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the brunette. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

They stayed in the embrace for a long moment, holding each other beneath the soft glow of a streetlamp. Eventually, though, the world reminded them to keep moving, and they reluctantly resumed their walk toward the theater where Beca had performed earlier that night.

“So,” Chloe said playfully, “any chance I can be the big spoon tonight?”

“Absolutely not,” Beca scoffed. “I gave up Mountain Dew for that title, and I’m not giving it up.”

“Fair enough,” Chloe laughed. “Sacrifices must be honored.”

They bumped shoulders as they walked, both women radiant with quiet happiness. The night air was cool, their bellies full of tacos, and their hearts fuller still. But as they rounded the corner, their mood shifted instantly.

There, standing like a sentinel just outside Beca’s tour bus, was Theo.

Arms folded, jaw set like stone, his entire posture radiated tension and barely concealed irritation. He looked less like a tour manager and producer and more like a furious headmaster waiting to discipline a pair of wayward students.

Chloe and Beca both instinctively slowed, exchanging a quick glance. Without thinking, Chloe reached for Beca’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was a subtle gesture, but Theo saw it, and his scowl deepened.

“You left without telling anyone,” he snapped, his clipped British accent sharper than usual. “No security. No clearance. No bodyguard. What were you thinking?”

Unfazed, Beca blinked at him reached into the paper bag she was carrying and casually held out a wrapped burrito. “Chill, dude. We just needed tacos.”

Theo didn’t budge. He glanced at the offering with disdain, as if she’d just handed him a used tissue.

“Oh really?” he said, voice cold. “Two young women wandering an unfamiliar city in the middle of the night? Yes, that sounds perfectly safe.”

Chloe’s easy smile wavered. When he said it like that… maybe it had been a little reckless. She didn’t let go of Beca’s hand, but her expression turned thoughtful.

Theo noticed the hesitation and pressed his advantage. “You’re under contract, Beca. You can’t just disappear. You have responsibilities now. This isn’t open mic night at Barden. Not anymore.”

Still, Beca remained calm. “I’m not just a contract, Theo. I’m a human being. And sometimes, human beings need tacos.”

This just made Theo scowl harder, but the impact was dulled by the sight of Chloe standing at Beca’s side, fingers still laced with hers, exuding both warmth and defiance.

“Look, dude,” Beca sighed, her patience thinning. “We’re tired. Chloe and I are heading to the bus and getting some much-needed sleep.”

She gently tugged Chloe toward the steps.

“Beca…”

“Tomorrow, Theo.”

And just like that, the storm passed him by.

The door closed behind them, but Theo stood rooted to the pavement, eyes narrowed.

It was becoming clear, if he wanted to maintain control of this tour, changes would need to be made.

Soon.

------------

To be Continued…

-

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 5: 

Tension Grows

------------

The midnight taco run in Pittsburgh marked a turning point. 

Theo made a quiet but resolute decision; there was not enough room on this tour for both him and the redheaded calamity that was Chloe Beale. 

For years, he’d been searching for someone with Beca Mitchell’s talent, a true star-in-the-making. Someone who would be his golden ticket to the top of the industry. 

Guiding Beca Mitchell to her ultimate potential would give him incredible credibility. Now that he had her, he wasn’t about to let anything jeopardize it, especially not a bubbly redhead whose presence seemed to pull Beca’s focus.

His plan began gradually, so subtly that no one would really notice at first. Even Chloe barely noticed any change from the Englishman.

“Chloe, sweetheart, why don’t you stand over here during this rehearsal?” Theo said smoothly, as he took her by the elbow. He was so smooth and his smile so friendly, Chloe didn’t have a chance to object. She barely registered he was holding her arm as he guided her toward a spot just offstage. “We don’t want to draw attention away from Beca’s presence.”

Chloe blinked, further caught off guard by the comment. It seemed oddly possessive. At the same time Beca had never indicated that Chloe’s closeness was a distraction. Still, she offered a polite smile and nodded. “Sure, no problem.”

Nearby, Lizzy furrowed her brow. The remark didn’t sit right. Theo noticed her reaction almost instantly and, not missing a beat, assigned her a menial task to redirect her focus.

The rest of that day leading up to the Columbus show, there were at least another handful of similar subtle interactions; nothing overtly alarming, but enough to quietly weigh upon Chloe’s mind. Though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why, her usual cheer started to dim through the day; enough so the Becketts took notice. 

Even her view of Beca’s performance that night wasn’t as good as it had been at the earlier shows she had attended. Still, the moment Beca stepped onstage, everything shifted. Her presence, her voice, her sheer command of the stage, it was electric. 

Beca’s performance cut through the unease, washing away the tension that had begun to cling to Chloe like a shadow. 

For now, at least.

------------

The next day they didn’t have a show, so there was some downtime. They would be catching a flight to Memphis later that day, while the convoy of buses and trucks that support the tour were already making the trek down south.

“I’m so ready for some blueberry pancakes,” said Beca as a member of the hotel’s staff delivered room service. Both Beca and Chloe were taking advantage of the extra time this morning to get room service. A knock at their hotel door interrupted Chloe who had just started to dig into her fruit granola and yogurt. With an arched eyebrow, Chloe said she would get it.

She opened the door to find Lizzy. “Hey Chloe,” said the young PA as she quickly strode into the room, looking a bit disheveled.

“You okay?” Chloe asked. The speed walk and posture screamed something wrong.

“Hey Lizzy,” said Beca around a mouthful of blueberry pancakes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Lizzy began to repeat.

“Whoa-dude! Slow down.”

“What’s the problem? What’re you sorry about?” Chloe asked as she came up beside Lizzy. She placed a reassuring hand on the PA’s back.

“I’m sorry Beca, you’re scheduled to do a couple podcast interviews this morning,” answered the PA. “I don’t know how I missed them.”

“Dude, relax,” said Beca with a smile. “Breathe, it’s okay. When’s the first interview?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Lizzy said apologetically.

“Oh shit,” Beca said, her eyes suddenly growing the size of saucers. 

“Okay,” said Chloe next to Lizzy. “Beca, you keep eating, and drink plenty of water and the orange juice that I got you. Lizzy, where is the interview taking place? Here or somewhere else?”

“Theo set up a room, for privacy and to keep out the noise,” answered Lizzy. “Him informing me the room was ready was how I learned about the interviews.” 

That news struck Chloe as odd, but there wasn’t time to think about it. “Is this audio only, or video?” Chloe asked.

“Audio only,” answered Lizzy, “I think—I—I’m not sure.”

“Well, just in case we’ll want her to look good,” answered Chloe as she made some quick decisions. “Beca, you keep eating. I’ll pick out an appropriate outfit for you. Lizzy grab Beca’s brush from the bathroom. Help tame her bed head. Yes Beca, you have bed head. ”

With that she moved quickly to where Beca’s clothes were. Most were packed in her suitcase, but there were a few items that could be turned into a casual-chic that would fit Beca’s image. With not a lot of time Chloe made a quick decision and brought it out to the main room of the suite.

“Okay, Becs,” Chloe said as she held up a pair of black skinny jeans, a Heart concert tee from the nineties, and Beca’s favorite black leather jacket. Finishing her pancakes and her orange juice, Beca studied Chloe’s choice and gave a nod of approval.

“Get washed up Becs, and then you can get dressed,” said Chloe as she indicated the bathroom. “Do you want me to apply your makeup?”

“That would be great, Chlo,” said Beca. “Lizzy, can you give me a rundown on the podcasts?

As Chloe did Beca’s makeup, Lizzy gave a brief description of the podcasts. She looked up their websites and gave basic information on the shows and who would be interviewing her. Based on this information there was a clue to what questions she might face.

“You want to come to the interview?” Beca asked as she prepared to leave.

“Nah—you got this,” Chloe said with a smile and a shake of her head. “I need to get cleaned up and dressed. I’ll also get all of our stuff packed for the ride to the airport.”

“You sure?” Beca asked.

“Yeah, go get them,” said Chloe. “Knock’em dead with that Mitchell charm.” This brought a blush to the brunette’s cheeks.

After Beca left with Lizzy to handle the podcast interviews, Chloe remained behind to tidy up their things. She moved through the space with a practiced ease, gathering scattered toiletries and sorting them into their respective travel cases. The room was nearly back in order when there was a knock at the suite’s door.

A little surprised, Chloe answered the door to find Theo standing there with a messenger bag over his shoulder.

“There you are, luv,” Theo said smoothly, his voice warm with false familiarity as he entered the suite without being invited.

Caught off guard by this intrusion, Chloe schooled her features and adopted a polite but fake smile. “Hey, Theo. You just missed Beca, she went off with Lizzy for a couple of interviews.” She went back to the suite’s bathroom to finish collecting their toiletries.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he replied, his smile tightening into a look of concern. “And this is exactly what concerns me. These kinds of distractions? They can snowball. Artists show up late, miss appointments, and suddenly they’ve got a reputation for being difficult.”

“I don’t think that’s something we need to worry about with Becs,” Chloe said evenly as she put away her facial lotion.

“Of course you don’t,” Theo responded, just a little too quickly. “She’s your friend. It’s exciting, being close to someone famous. That kind of access, it’s intoxicating, I imagine.”

The implications of the Englishman’s words caused Chloe’s expression to cool. “I’m here because I care about Beca. Not because she’s a celebrity.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, waving a dismissive hand, as if the point wasn’t worth discussing. He moved to the center of the suite and began to set up a laptop he had pulled from his messenger bag.

“Was there something you needed, Theo?” she asked, her tone growing colder. She finished gathering Beca’s and her items in the bathroom, and zipped up the carrying cases.

“Ahh, yes,” he said as he finished setting up his laptop on the coffee table. He stood and walked over to the bathroom. “There’s something I want to discuss with you,” he said as he reached out and lightly took hold of her arm. The move was so bold, Chloe stiffened slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away. 

She held her tongue as he guided her by the elbow toward the couch. She did not want to cause Beca any trouble, and let him lead her to his laptop.

“Beca’s been getting a lot of fan mail lately,” he said smoothly as he gestured at the laptop’s screen. “It’s important for Beca’s growing popularity and reputation to create a strong connection with her fan base.”

“Uhh—okay…” Chloe wasn’t exactly sure where Theo was going with this. “And…”

“Emails and social media accounts should be gone through and responded to appropriately,” explained Theo. There was a hint of exasperation, as if he was dealing with a slow-witted pupil.

“And you want me to?” Chloe asked, again choosing to ignore the condescension in the Englishman’s tone.

“It would be incredibly helpful if you could assist with sorting and managing some of it. It would make you quite useful to Beca’s team.”

“Oh. Uh… sure,” Chloe replied, hesitating. She didn’t like how he’d phrased that, or how he’d touched her without asking, but chose to keep her discomfort buried. This was Theo, after all; polished accent, tablet always in hand, always presenting his ideas like they were options, never obligations. But the way he spoke stuck with her. It hadn’t been a request. Not quite an order. Something in between. 

And it left her uneasy even as she accepted the task.

------------

The car service Theo had arranged pulled up smoothly to the airport curb, the mid-day sun casting long shadows over the pavement. Beca slid out first, hoodie up, snap-back pulled low, and sunglasses already in place despite the cloudy day. Chloe followed, chatting easily with Lizzy as they grabbed their bags from the trunk. Theo casually handed Beca’s carryon to the redhead, then with his tablet in hand as always, moved with purpose toward the terminal entrance. 

Looking down at the bag she had bought Beca when she leaned her best friend was going on tour. She was fairly certain Theo knew it was Beca’s bag. Looking over to Beca, the redhead saw that despite her ‘disguise’ the fledgling popstar had been spotted by a couple teenage girls who had asked for autographs. Her best friend might not be the biggest fan of fan interactions, being a bit of an introvert, but Beca was damn good at it. At that moment Beca was taking a couple selfies with the young girls.

Seeing this, Chloe could only smile as she shouldered Beca’s carryon. It was important for Beca to connect with her fans, and carrying her bags was a small thing Chloe could do to help her out. 

Building her brand was one of the reasons Beca was being flown to Memphis ahead of the rest of her crew. She was set to have a couple meetings with several high-level industry execs. It was a big opportunity, career-defining, even. What Chloe didn’t know was that Beca would also be performing at a surprise appearance during one of the city’s major music festivals, and the rising music star had plans, that involved her ginger best friend.

Once Beca had finished signing autographs of a few more people who had noticed her with the teens, and taken a few more selfies, the three young women made their way inside the terminal.

Inside the terminal, Theo was waiting, his barbed comments towards Lizzy and Chloe suggested he held them accountable for the delay.

“Chill, dude,” Beca immediately said. “I was following your suggestion of being accommodating to fans whenever it’s possible.”

“Quite,” conceded Theo, though he offered no apologies to either Chloe or Lizzy. Instead he spun on his heels and made his way to the airline check-in counter.

Exchanging slightly bemused looks, Beca, Chloe and Lizzy shrugged and made their way to the airline counter to check in. That’s when things took an unexpected turn.

“Um, excuse me,” Beca said, scanning her boarding pass and then Chloe’s. “Why is Chloe in Economy? We were all booked together.”

That was news to Lizzy, who blinked in confusion. Quickly flipping through the booking confirmation on her phone, the assistant was positive the four tickets had been bought togetherq. “That’s not right. Honestly, Beca, I booked all four tickets in Business Class.”

“I know you did,” Beca assured her nervous assistant. “This isn’t on you, but I do want to know how it happened?” She turned to the person behind the desk. “And just how are you going to fix this?”

The agent behind the counter gave an apologetic smile. “According to the records, the studio made a modification yesterday morning. Only three Business Class seats remain. I’m sorry.”

Beca’s jaw clenched. “Fix it.”

“I’m afraid there are no other seats available in Business class.”

“I’ll switch,” Lizzy offered quickly. “It’s fine, really.. ”

“No,” Theo interrupted smoothly. “We have a lot of work discussions we need to do prior to our arrival in Memphis. Chloe will be fine in back.”

Before Beca could fire back, Chloe gently touched her arm. “It’s okay, Becs. Really. I’ll just watch a movie and or nap.”

“No, Chlo, it’s not,” Beca said, her frustration plain to see. 

“It really is, Becs,” Chloe said, placing a comforting hand on Beca’s arm. “I’ll be fine. It’s not that long a flight. I’ll see you during our connection in Atlanta.”

“See, Beca?” Theo cut in. “No real issue.”

“What about the second leg?” Beca asked the airline representative. “Can Chloe rejoin us on the Atlanta to Memphis flight?”

The representative typed a few commands into their computer. After a moment they looked grim and shook their head. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing available on that flight. In fact there are no seats available anywhere on the flight.”

Beca didn’t like it, not one bit, but Chloe’s soft smile made arguing harder. Begrudgingly, she nodded, still fuming inside as they moved toward security and their departure gate.

------------

Their Memphis suite was spacious and elegant, bathed in warm sunlight streaming through tall windows that overlooked the wide, slow-moving Mississippi River. The furnishings were soft and inviting with plush couches, a second room with a king-sized bed with crisp white linens, and earthy tones that gave the entire space the feel of a peaceful urban retreat. For the next few days, it would be their haven above the rhythm and hum of the city below.

But Beca wasn’t appreciating any of it.

She stormed into the suite ahead of the bellhop, dropped her carry-on bag onto the couch with a disgruntled grunt, and immediately started pacing the room. Her arms were tightly crossed, her expression tense.

“It’s okay, Becs,” Chloe said gently as she tipped the bellhop and closed the door behind him.

“No, it’s definitely NOT okay,” Beca snapped, mid-pace. “I’m still pissed about that flight.” She turned sharply on her heel. “There was nothing Theo and I talked about that couldn’t have waited until we landed. He completely hijacked the entire trip.”

Knowing her best friend Chloe didn’t interrupt, letting Beca vent.

“And then,” Beca continued, her voice rising, “he scheduled a random call during our layover in Atlanta so we couldn’t even talk then. I swear, judging by what Khaled said, he wasn’t even expecting the call! Theo just—he just wanted to control everything.”

Sensing her friend was in need of a hug, Chloe stepped forward and took her friend into a hug, trying to ease her concerns “Breathe, Becs,” she said calmly. “I know he can be… overbearing. But he probably thinks he’s doing what’s best for your career. Even if he’s being an ass about it.”

The use of a small curse word did bring a small grin to Beca, but other than accepting the hug, she didn’t respond immediately, still fuming.

“It honestly wasn’t so bad,” Chloe continued, trying to soothe her. “I got a solid nap on the first leg, and on the second I sat next to the sweetest grandmother. She was flying here to see her grandkids. We talked the whole time. It was actually kind of lovely.”

That made Beca chuckle. Her brow eased just a little as she pulled back slightly and looked into the redhead’s eyes. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Chloe asked, curious.

“Find the silver lining in everything.”

“Someone has to keep things balanced,” said Chloe as she gave a small, almost bashful smile. 

“Yeah…” said Beca as her shoulders finally relaxed. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re here.”

“There’s no place on earth I’d rather be,” said Chloe as she gave the petite woman a tight Lee squeeze.

“Well, in that spirit…” Beca sighed, “I do have a surprise.”

“Oh?” Chloe’s eyes lit up, instantly curious. 

“I’m playing in an outdoor music festival while we’re here. Last-minute addition to the tour. And… and I want you to sing with me.”

Not sure she heard Beca correctly, Chloe blinked. “Me? I—Beca, I haven’t performed in front of a real crowd since the USO tour.”

“You sing all the time,” Beca said, taking Chloe’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “Your voice is as good, if not better than when we were in college.”

“That’s not in front of a crowd,” Chloe pointed out.

“You were never afraid before,” Beca said. “Why now?”

“It’s different,” Chloe said. “If I screw up l, I could damage your image, impact your career.”

“You could never damage my career,” Beca said as she pulled her closer, brushing the hair from Chloe’s face. “I’m only here because of you. No one has ever believed in me the way you do. That’s why it has to be you. We’ll do it together. Just a couple songs, part of the encore. Duets together, just like old times. Come on, Chloe. I want you on that stage with me.”

They stared into each other’s eyes and Beca sensing the moment was right, leaned in. Surprised by the movement, Chloe hesitated, but only for a heartbeat, then closed the remaining space. Their lips touched and the two shared their first kiss. Years of repressed feelings and hidden longing crackled in the quiet of their kiss. 

The kiss was tentative at first, nervous and cautious, like testing the temperature to see if it would burn. For Beca, it felt like gravity finally giving out, a weight lifting from her chest as warmth spread through her, grounding and electric all at once. Chloe’s lips were soft, familiar yet thrillingly new, sending electrical sparks down her spine. Her fingers trembled where they brushed the redhead’s cheek, overwhelmed by the sudden clarity of what she’d wanted all along.

For Chloe, the moment cracked open something long-buried, years of quiet yearning igniting into something undeniable. The kiss felt like exhaling after holding her breath too long. Beca’s mouth was gentle, but carried a thousand unsaid things, curiosity, fear, affection, need. When they finally pulled apart, their eyes locked with stunned wonder. Neither spoke, but both knew: something had shifted. The truth had finally been kissed into existence.

One kiss, years in the making. The line between friendship and love vanished in that input.

“Now you have to sing with me,” whispered Beca.

Chloe slowly nodded, “Okay. For you… I’ll do it.”

“Perfect,” said Beca with a mischievous smile, “I couldn’t sing in the Beale Street Music Festival without you.”

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 6: 

My Heart

------------

Morning light streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden glow across the sheets tangled around their bare limbs. Beca stirred first, blinking against the brightness, only to find Chloe nestled beside her, red hair fanned across the pillow. A soft smile touched Beca’s lips as she traced a fingertip along Chloe’s shoulder, memories of the night before washing over her; soft kisses turned hungry, whispered confessions, bodies moving in perfect synchronization.

Under feather-soft touches, Chloe stirred and blinked awake, meeting Beca’s gaze with a smile that was warm and sure. “Morning,” she whispered.

“Hey,” Beca murmured, brushing a kiss against Chloe’s forehead. “Last night was…”

“Incredible,” Chloe finished, her voice husky.

They lay there in the quiet for a long moment, wrapped in each other, happy and finally whole. But Chloe’s expression slowly shifted, thoughtful, and she sat up slightly, clutching the sheet to her chest.

“Becs… I’ve been thinking,” she said gently. “About us. About what last night means.”

Beca’s heart skipped. “Me too. So… what are we?”

“I love you,” said Chloe as she reached for her hand. “I want this. But maybe… we keep it low key for now?”

“Why?” Beca asked; a pang of disappointment in her heart. 

“Because right now, the spotlight’s on you, where it should be. Your voice, your music, your unbelievable talent. That’s what people should see and be talking about. Not who you’re dating.”

“I’m not ashamed of who I am or who I love,” said Beca, almost defiantly.

“Neither am I,” said Chloe with a fierceness that caught Beca by surprise. “You should be proud of who you are, and free to love who you love. But I want people to see you. Not any of the noise that a relationship might make. I want them to see what I see every time you perform.”

“So I have to pretend you’re just my friend again?” Beca asked, trying to keep her tone light, but it stung.

“No,” Chloe shook her head as she gave Beca’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I could never lie about us, or want you to, either. Just for now we don’t make a big deal about it.” She stared into Beca’s midnight blue eyes and let her love shine through. “Too be honest, this is going to be harder on me.”

“What?” Beca asked, caught off-guard by this comment. “How the Hell do you figure that?”

“I don’t think you realize just how incredibly sexy you are,” purred Chloe. “The things I feel when you’re performing; or in Beca ‘Effin Mitchell mode.” She whispered this in a low husky voice that sent shivers up Beca’s spine. Like the proverbial cat stalking her prey, Chloe crawled up Beca’s body, nipping at any and all exposed skin, before capturing Beca’s lips.

When she pulled back, Chloe whispered, “Let people fall in love with you. And after the tour, we can be as loud as we want.”

Even with this very persuasive argument, Beca didn’t like it. But Chloe’s conviction, her calm steadiness, and obvious love settled something in her.

“Okay,” Beca whispered. “But after the tour, the whole world’s gonna know I’m yours.”

“Yes they will,” Chloe said with a grin, then a quick kiss. “And now I think it’s time for me to show you just how much you are mine.” With that the redhead began to kiss her way down Beca’s body.

------------

A short while later, after a shared shower, the two women reluctantly got dressed. Knowing that Beca had a full day ahead of her, Chloe insisted that they needed a hardy breakfast. 

“Why can’t we just order room service?” Beca asked.

“Because it would end up being a repeat of the last hour,” answered Chloe. “But messier.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” smirked Beca.

“It’s anything but,” said Chloe with a smile and wink, “You however have a full day and need a good breakfast to help get you through the day.”

“Fine,” sighed Beca.

“We can see if they have chocolate chip pancakes?” Chloe suggested helpfully.

“I’m not a child, Chlo,” said Beca with a hint of exasperation.

“So ‘no’ on the chocolate chip pancakes?” Chloe asked as she opened the door to the hallway.

“I didn’t say that,” Beca said as she passed by the redhead, grabbing a quick kiss.

------------

Both Beca and Chloe stepped into the hotel restaurant, side by side and glowing with an unmistakable warmth. They hadn’t said much in the elevator, but the occasional brush of fingers, the easy smiles, the subtle glances said everything. Love, real, fresh and intoxicating, clung to them like the morning dew.

Looking up from her breakfast Lizzy noticed the pair immediately. From her seat across from Theo she waved them over, even as her spoon nearly clattered out of her hand. She grinned so wide her cheeks looked like they might burst. “Well someone’s had a good night,” she said with a knowing sparkle in her eye.

The unexpected comment caused Beca to blush, caught between embarrassment and giddiness. Behind her Chloe let out a soft laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear. Maybe it would be more difficult than she anticipated, keeping their relationship under wraps.

Turning in his seat, Theo looked up, smiling politely. “Morning, ladies,” he said evenly, but his eyes lingered on them a little too long. He didn’t miss a thing. He noted the easy closeness, the way Beca seemed lighter than she’d been in months.

On the surface, he gave a congratulatory nod, his British charm intact. “You both look… refreshed.”

But beneath the calm exterior, his mind was already calculating.

If this wasn’t just a passing moment, which he very much doubted, then Chloe was becoming something more. That would mean the dynamic was shifting.

And not in his favor.

He sipped his coffee slowly, masking the flicker of irritation behind a neutral expression. He had to play this just right. If he pushed Beca, she would resist. If he was too dismissive or derogative of the ginger, Beca would get defensive.

He would have to finesse this.

If Chloe was becoming a distraction, then he’d simply have to account for that. Adjust the variables. Recalculate the strategy.

Beca Mitchell was still his star.

He just had to make sure she stayed that way.

------------

Starting almost immediately after breakfast, Theo’s campaign against Chloe was a masterclass in manipulation. His actions were quiet, calculated, and cloaked in apparent concern. He never raised his voice. Never used outright insults. But his words were sharp, precise, and always delivered at moments when Beca wasn’t around to witness them.

He specialized in subtlety, threading barbs through compliments so gentle that it was hard to call him out. The first strike came during an afternoon meet-and-greet with key industry executives. It was an important networking moment for Beca, personally set up by Khaled. Wanting to give her space to shine, Chloe instinctively stepped into the background.

That was all the opportunity Theo needed.

“You’ve got such a warm, non-industry energy. It’s easy for people to see you’re not an insider,” he said smoothly to Chloe, watching Beca from across the lobby. “People really respond to that, since you’re so unthreatening.”

There was nothing obviously wrong in the words, but something in his tone, in the implication, left Chloe uncertain.

When the group moved toward a seating area for more relaxed conversation, Theo gently blocked Chloe’s path with a courteous smile. “Maybe give them a little space?” he suggested. “You bring such good vibes, we just don’t want to shift the spotlight off Beca.”

It was expertly delivered. Framed as concern.

Dressed up as praise.

Not having a good argument against Theo’s suggestion, Chloe gave a tight laugh and nodded, stepping back. But the comment lingered, a splinter under the skin. Doubt crept in where confidence once stood. And that was Theo’s true talent: planting insecurity with a smile.

------------

That evening the private dining room had been arranged to impress. The restaurant’s staff had followed Theo’s instructions to the letter, dim lighting, white linens, and a long table set for ten. He made sure that Beca was the star tonight, seated near the center. This would make it easy for the studio execs to engage with her. The rest of the group filtered in behind her, Chloe just a step behind.

But Theo was already moving with quiet purpose.

“Chloe,” he said gently, his hand light on her elbow. Again the redhead was uncomfortable with the Englishman’s ease at taking hold of her. “Why don’t you take this seat down here by Lizzy? It’ll give the execs some room to really connect with Beca.”

It sounded reasonable. 

Even considerate. 

His voice was warm, his expression pleasant. But the subtle positioning was deliberate. Chloe’s seat was at the far end of the table, close enough to observe, but far enough to feel like a spectator.

While settling into her seat, Beca noticed immediately that Chloe wasn’t taking the seat next to her.

“Wait, Chlo’, sit here,” she said, patting the empty chair beside her.

Before Chloe could take a step, Theo smoothly interjected. “Beca, it’s just for tonight. These conversations could really shape some next steps for you. Best not to crowd the circle too much, yeah?”

Not wanting to cause any scene, Chloe hesitated, glancing from Theo to Beca. Making a quick decision, she said, “It’s okay.” She flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but would fool everyone. “I’ll catch up with you after.”

Fool everyone but Beca.

Reluctantly, Beca nodded, she recognized the plastic nature of Chloe’s smile, but wasn’t in a position to delve deeper. She watched as Chloe slid into the seat beside Lizzy. The redhead gave her a more reassuring smile, and a slight shake of her head; the message was clear, she was fine and Beca should stay where she was.

From her seat’s position, the distance from the center of the table meant Chloe could barely hear Beca’s conversations, let alone contribute. But she kept her posture tall and her expression pleasant.

With a satisfied expression, Theo had returned to his seat near Beca, effortlessly slipping into the rhythm of the conversations that were taking place. 

Just as he planned.

The executives were completely charmed by Beca, and almost seemed to be in competition to get her attention. It proved impossible for the young singer to keep tabs on the redhead. She felt bad about this, and made a silent promise to make it up to Chlo.

As the night went on, Beca was pulled deeper into the conversations as wine glasses clinked and conversation flowed. At one point, Theo leaned slightly toward Chloe and Lizzy at the far end of the table, his voice low but clear.

“You know,” he said, watching Beca laugh with the executives, “she really has that ‘It’ factor; that rare, magnetic pull that attracts others around her. The kind of thing that makes one a star.”

The redhead watched Beca, and couldn’t help but agree. She had known for years that Beca had it in her to be a star. Now at this table, Chloe was witnessing another aspect of Beca the performer. She was just as entertaining and captivating. It left Chloe of two minds, one in awe of her love, the other a bit fearful of her place in Beca’s orbit.

Almost as if sensing the conflict within the ginger, the Englishman swirled his wine thoughtfully before adding, “Of course, stars shine brightest when they aren’t competing with too many others in their orbit.”

This comment was so out of left field, Lizzy raised an eyebrow, the implication landing awkwardly. But Theo just smiled, as if he’d said nothing at all.

For her part Chloe laughed softly, but her fingers tightened around her glass. The words echoed louder in her head than they had in the room.

Later, as the dinner came to a successful end, Theo subtly stepped over to Chloe, while Beca was busy saying goodbye to a couple of the execs. “You’ve been such a great addition to the tour  Chloe,” said Theo while Chloe watched Beca use her natural charm to impress the executives. He had moved next to her, catching her unaware. “You know, just… being here. Not everyone can stand in the background so gracefully.” 

Chloe’s smile faltered.

Not knowing how to respond, she laughed nervously, brushing off the comment. But it stayed with her. That was Theo’s gift; the ability to plant just enough doubt to make her second-guess herself.

------------

Following the dinner with the studio executives, back in their suite, Beca kicked off her boots, took off her jacket and launched into a recap of the dinner meeting. She was buzzing, truly energized by the possibilities that had been discussed during dinner. “They’re on board,” she said, pacing the room. “They really seem to want a full collaboration with Khaled. And they want me involved on the production side. This could really build my rep as a producer.”

Chloe nodded, smiling in all the right places, laughing when she was supposed to. But her eyes told a different story—distant, dimmer than usual.

Beca paused mid-sentence and tilted her head. “Okay… Chlo. What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Chloe replied, too quickly.

“You’ve been a little off since dinner,” Beca said softly.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Beca stepped closer and brushed her fingers lightly against Chloe’s wrist. “Chlo. Don’t do that thing where you pretend. Talk to me.”

Chloe’s smile faltered. She looked down, biting her lip.

“It’s stupid. Just… something Theo said.”

Beca’s brows knitted. “What’d he say?”

Chloe hesitated, then sighed. “He was going on about how you’ve got that ‘It’ factor… that you’re destined to be a star. And I just started feeling like maybe I don’t belong in all this. Like I’m just tagging along. Your shadow.”

Beca’s heart clenched. She sat beside Chloe, took her hand gently.

“First of all, screw Theo,” she said, voice soft but firm. “Second, Chloe… you are never just tagging along. You’re my light. My anchor. You keep me grounded. I need you.”

Chloe blinked, tears welling in her eyes.

Beca smiled. “You’re not my shadow, babe. You’re my heart.”

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 7: 

The Beckettes

------------

The next morning, Beca and Chloe drifted into the hotel’s bustling lobby hand in hand, floating on twin currents of satisfaction for very different reasons. Chloe all but glowed after a night of being treated like a queen, every tender need anticipated before she could even voice them. Beca, meanwhile, wore the kind of crooked, cat-that-got-the-cream grin that only comes from knowing you’ve outdone yourself.

Eight a.m. in the lobby felt like backstage five minutes before showtime, suitcases rolling across polished floors, espresso machines hissing at the small coffee bar, and a line of conference-goers arguing about lanyards at a check-in table. The hustle and bustle was enough to make Beca pause, puzzled by all of the extra-loud buzz, when the doors burst open behind them.

“BEE!”

Before the petite brunette could react, a neon-pink blur slammed into her. AJ wrapped her in a rib-crushing hug, and Skye, Natasha, and Minh crashed into them like joyful bowling pins. All four wore blazing pink tees emblazoned with The Beckettes in glitter-soaked purple.

After Beca extracted herself just enough to glare at the group she got a good look at what her four backup singers were wearing. “What fever-dream wardrobe malfunction is this?”

Laughing loud enough to attract attention from around the lobby, Natasha spun like a runway model. “Hand-pressed, tour-exclusive fan gear.”

“More like evidence of a glitter bomb,” Beca retorted, arms folded, though the twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement.

 “They’re adorable!” Chloe said excitedly as she clasped her hands under her chin. “Do I get one?”

Ever the showwoman, Natasha revealed a fifth shirt from her tote with theatrical flourish. Chloe squealed, slipping it over her tank top right there in the middle of the lobby.

“Et tu, Red?”Beca groaned. 

“Loyalty has many forms,” Chloe quipped, smoothing the cotton soft shirt over her curves.

Draping an arm across Natasha’s shoulders, Skye said, “Relax, boss. We know you secretly love this chaos.”

Grumbling through a series of denials, Beca still allowed herself to be drawn into the inevitable group hug. The six ladies all swaying in a neon tangle of joy and friendship.

As they all separated, Beca glanced around at all of her back up singers, still grinning. “So, like when did you dudes get in?”

The question seemed to remind the four singers of their fatigue; AJ stretched her arms overhead with a yawn. “Just now. Bus rolled in like twenty minutes ago.”

“We drove straight through the night,” added Natasha. “Minh here is still vibrating from gas station coffee.”

“Wait,” said Chloe, her eyes widening as something clicked. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

All four shook their heads sheepishly. “Survival snacks,” Natasha muttered.

“Then you’re joining us,” Chloe declared, looping her arm through Skye’s, then Beca’s 

As they started walking, Beca spotted Lizzy near the elevator and waved her over. “Hey! Come join us, we’re grabbing breakfast.”

“Also,” said Natasha as she grabbed another neon pink tee-shirt out of her tote and tossed it to the PA. “We got ya your shirt.”

Snatching the shirt out of the air, Lizzy lit up as she held it up to inspect. “They came out great,” she announced.

“Not you too,” Beca groaned.

This just elicited laughter from the rest of the women as they all fell into step beside each other. The seven women swept towards the hotel restaurant like a girl gang. 

Across the lobby, half-concealed behind a marble column and a potted ficus, Theo watched Beca’s reunion with her backup singers unfold. His jaw tightened as the happy laughter and group hugs echoed across the space. Chloe, in particular, seemed to be embedding herself more deeply into Beca’s world by the hour—and now, apparently, into her heart. That wouldn’t do. Not for the image he was building. Not for the control he needed.

He tapped a finger against his chin, already crafting his next move. A well-timed suggestion here, a subtle exclusion there. It didn’t have to be dramatic. Just enough to isolate Beca. 

Again.

Upon entering the restaurant, Chloe approached the hostess with a warm smile. “Would you mind pushing a couple tables together?”

The hostess quickly agreed and waved over a waiter and a busboy to push three tables together. 

As they were taking their seats, Skye’s eyes flicked between Beca’s smug half-smile and Chloe’s starry expression as the two sat down in the middle seats. She snapped her fingers like Sherlock landing the final clue. “You two,” she pointed at each, “totally hooking up.”

Hearing this pronouncement, Beca nearly snorted orange juice. “What? No..,”

“Confirmed,” Natasha declared, leaning on Skye’s shoulder. “The ginger’s afterglow is practically its own light source.”

“If we wired her to the control panel,” AJ nodded solemnly. “We could power tonight’s set.”

Ever discreet, Minh just sipped the latte she was carrying and nodded.

“It’s so true,” Lizzy said. “They looked the same yesterday morning.”

Beca opened her mouth to deliver some witty denial, found nothing but air, and glanced at Chloe. The redhead’s smile was calm, steady, certain. Sliding her fingers through Beca’s, she raised their joined hands. “Actually, it’s true we are together,” she said, her voice clear above the morning clamor.

The Beckettes exploded in a cheer that rattled the chandeliers, even distracting a business breakfast meeting, mid-presentation. Beca’s cheeks flushed the same impossible pink as the shirts, but her eyes gleamed.

”Yes it’s true, Chloe and I are together, though we aren’t making a big deal of it,” said Beca. “At least not until after the tour.”

”That’s so awesome,” said Skye.

”We’re chuffed to bits for ya,” said AJ happily.

”Thanks,” Beca said as she looked to Chloe, who could only shrug and shake her head.

”Don’t mind her,” said Natasha as she nudged AJ’s shoulder. “She sometimes forgets that her english isn’t understood by anyone outside of the U.K..”

”It is a good thing,” assured AJ.

”So you did make Beca a shirt too,” Chloe indicated the shirt she was wearing as she sat down.

”Of course,” said the four backup singers in unison.

”No,” groaned Beca.

”You have to Beca,” cajoled Chloe, making sure she used the full effect of her sky blue eyes.

“Fine,” Beca muttered, never able to say  ‘No’ to the redhead, especially when she used her captivating eyes.

”Yay!” Chloe clapped happily.

With a satisfied smirk, Beca tugged Chloe closer and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “But don’t even think about making me wear that color.”

With a laugh, AJ said, “Told you,” as she made a signal to Natasha. 

“Noted,” said Natasha with a smirk as she reached into her tote. ”One black hoodie with stealth glitter coming right up.” She presented Beca with a folded black hoodie.

The petite brunette was truly touched as she unfolded the sweatshirt which had purple glitter letters that spelled out - ‘Beca Effin Mitchell’.

------------

From a distance Theo frowned. He realized there was no time to lose. His campaign would have to start this very day, and he had a few ideas already in mind.

His campaign to chip away at Chloe’s confidence started immediately after breakfast; a subtle but relentless routine. He was quite accomplished in the art of sabotage, with years of practice. His polished put-downs, faint praise, and just enough plausible deniability to keep people doubting themselves. Now all these skills were focused on the redhead. He never raised his voice or spoke a word that could be directly challenged, yet each exchange left a psychological bruise, small but cumulative. Within a short time, Chloe found herself second-guessing her instincts, questioning her place, and shrinking just a little more around him.

But Chloe wasn’t Theo’s only target. Ever since he had discovered her during the USO Tour, the Englishman had used his psychological manipulation on Beca to isolate and control, just less overtly.

As Beca’s star rose, Theo maintained a steady campaign to ensure Beca felt a dependence on him. It was more subtle, but with time no less effective. He had leaned into her long-held imposter syndrome, carefully planting doubts under the guise of professional critique. A comment about a “missed beat” here, a suggestion that “maybe next time we let the professionals handle this part” there, it was all so smoothly delivered that Beca often thanked him for the advice, never realizing how unsettled she felt afterward. He didn’t need to sabotage her from the outside; he simply gave her insecurities just enough air to breathe.

Now though, the introduction of the ginger into the tour had upturned his carefully crafted plans. It meant he had to up his campaign against both.

---------

The morning’s press session unfolded in a cordoned-off hotel ballroom full of flashing cameras and brand backdrops. During the press conference, Beca answered questions on a riser while Chloe stood with the backup singers near the edge of the scrum. Using all of this as a distraction, Theo drifted over, to the redhead.

“Chloe, love,” he murmured, pitching his voice just loud enough for only Chloe and possibly those near her to hear, “could you make yourself useful and grab Beca some water?  I’m worried she’s not hydrating.”

Fiddling with her iPhone, Skye’s head shot up. and gave him a slow blink of disbelief. She couldn’t believe Theo had said that to Chloe, who was quickly becoming a really good friend.

A bit embarrassed by his words, Chloe’s cheeks warmed with blush, but managed a quick nod.  “Sure—no problem!”  She hustled off toward catering, ignoring the prickle of embarrassment along her spine.

By the time she returned with water bottles balanced like a professional waiter, the press questions had moved on, Beca was having her picture taken, and Theo accepted a bottle on Beca’s behalf without so much as a thank you.

Natasha was a bit gobsmacked by his rudeness.

----------

The midday sun filtered through the tinted windows of the shuttle bus as it pulled away from the hotel’s circular drive, With practiced ease the driver steered the shuttle bus smoothly through the downtown traffic, weaving its way from the hotel to the theater.

The atmosphere on the bus was alive with pre-show energy, filled with chatter and laughter from Beca’s entourage; her backup singers, makeup artists, sound techs, and a couple other last-minute additions from the label. 

Beca sat near the front, with earbuds in, bobbing her head lightly to a demo she was fine-tuning for possible use in her next EP. A few rows behind, Chloe chatted with Skye and Minh, her laughter easy and unguarded.

At the front of the bus, Theo turned slightly, glancing down at his tablet. He treated his tablet like he was a mission commander, causing Natasha and AJ to giggle and make jokes. 

The Englishman ignored them and instead tapped Beca on the shoulder. She pulled out her ear bud and asked with obvious annoyance, “What dude?”

“The band’s already running through sound check,” he announced as he studied something on his tablet. “We’ll be heading straight to the stage when we arrive.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll jump into staging notes when we arrive, so let’s be sharp,” he continued.

“Sounds right, dude,” Beca sighed, with a hint of exasperation at being interrupted for something so trivial. She replaced the earbud in her ear.

Before she could hit play again, Theo said, “Speaking of the show,” he began with a tone that was deceptively casual, “I wanted to revisit the idea of Chloe performing at the festival.”

With a more audible sound of frustration, Beca pulled out one earbud and sighed. “Theo, we’ve been over this. It’s going to be fine.”

“I still have concerns about Chloe performing at the festival.”

Beca didn’t look up. “You’ve made that clear.”

“The festival is in two days, Beca. With tonight’s performance, that leaves almost no time for a real rehearsal,” he said plaintively. He didn’t feel Beca was taking this serious enough. His voice became more nasally as he showed more agitation. “A performance in two days, and you haven’t had time to rehearse properly.”

Thoroughly annoyed by her producer, Beca gave him a pointed look. “Chloe and I have been singing together for years.”

“Yes, well…” He gave a tight smile with an arched brow. ”That was a few years ago, wasn’t it?”

“The USO Tour was last year,” Beca snapped back, her patience fraying. She finally glanced up.

Theo’s expression morphed into one of falsely empathetic concern. “Of course. I only worry she might… well, embarrass herself. That stage is a beast. Your performances bring a higher standard of quality. It sets higher expectations from your audience. You know how brutal a live crowd can be.”

The barb landed, Beca paused for a beat. But then she straightened and said firmly, “Chloe’s going to own that stage.”

Across the aisle, AJ was glad to hear Beca push back. She had known Theo for a while, and knew he could be a bit overbearing. It was important that Beca remember she’s the talent, and her voice needed to be the preeminent one.

Before Theo could respond, Beca’s phone buzzed in his hand. “It’s Khaled,” he said smoothly, offering it to her. “He wants to talk about the new mix.”

Beca took the phone and turned away, already deep in conversation.

Seeing a perfect distraction, Theo’s eyes flicked to Chloe, he moved down the aisle and leaned over Chloe’s seat. “Chloe,” he said with a smooth, hushed urgency, “I just got a message from the hotel front desk. A contract Beca needs to sign, something Khaled’s office couriered over, was left behind. They need it signed immediately, and it’s best Beca gets a chance to review it before soundcheck. It’s sealed and waiting at the front desk—label stuff. It’s important.”

“Oh—uhh, sure,” she nodded without hesitation. “I’ll go back and grab it.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Theo smiled. 

“If I can be helpful, I’m happy to,” Chloe said with a genuine smile.

“I know you are,” said Theo. He leaned down toward Chloe, “It’s obviously important for you to find some way to make yourself useful.”

The bus pulled up to the theater, and Theo strode off with everyone else who was filing off. He left Chloe feeling stunned by such a blatant slap.

She was not the only one, Skye, had caught a bit of the conversation. She didn’t like it.

Chloe remained behind with the driver, who was instructed to take her straight back. When everyone was filling off, Beca, still on the phone, had also stepped off without noticing that Chloe had remained behind. The bus pulled away as she finally wrapped up her call. She looked around for the redhead and frowned. “Where’s Chloe?”

Theo glanced up from his tablet with a casual shrug. “Not sure. Maybe she wandered off to take a call or is already inside. Lizzy is already inside, maybe she knows where Chloe wandered off to.”

This didn’t seem right to Beca, but she didn’t see the redhead, so went to look for her or Lizzy in the theater.

Walking up behind the producer, Natasha, who had caught part of the exchange between Theo and Chloe earlier, narrowed her eyes slightly and asked, “Didn’t you say something about her going back to the hotel, for an important contract?”

Pretending he didn’t hear the question, Theo didn’t respond. He moved on, barking a few crisp directions to the crew who were moving new gear into the theater.

The backup singer was a little shocked at such blatant rudeness. She and the rest of the Beckettes needed to talk.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Chloe picked up the sealed envelope at the front desk, clutching it carefully as she hurried back outside. But when she reached the designated pickup area, slightly out of breath, the shuttle was gone

“Where’s the bus?”

“Sorry miss,” said the hotel’s doorman. “The driver received a call. He told me to tell you that he needed to take the shuttle back to the theater immediately for a pickup.”

Under her breath, Chloe grumbled, “I thought this was supposed to be returned immediately.” Confusion knitting her brow.

“I can get you a taxi,” offered the doorman.

Realizing it wasn’t this man’s fault, and he was trying to help. She gave him a warm smile and said, “That would be so helpful.”

The doorman quickly pulled out his whistle and signaled for a taxi. He might be in his late fifties, but he would still jump through hoops for a smile that warm and beautiful.

----------

The yellow taxi rolled to a stop outside the side entrance of the theater, and Chloe stepped out, clutching the sealed envelope protectively. “Thanks Javier! I appreciate you getting me here so fast!”

“No problem, Chloe! Good Luck!” Shouted the cabbie.

Her hair was a little windswept from the open window ride, and her cheeks were flushed, not just from the heat, but from the urgency of getting back. She hurried to the rear entrance and pressed the doorbell. While she waited she reached for her backstage pass attached to the lanyard around her neck.

“Can I help you?” asked a bored sounding security guard who opened the door.

“I need to get in, I have important papers for Beca,” Chloe answered with a smile.

“Beca?” the guard asked.

“Yes,” Chloe said with a wide smile. “Beca Mitchell.”

“Beca Mitchell, the headline artist?” he asked skeptically.

Chloe’s smile morphed into the one that showed her pride in Beca’s accomplishments. “Yeah, that’s her. I’m Chloe, Chloe Beale, her best friend.” She automatically stuck out her hand to shake. 

The guard looked at the hand as if she was holding a snake. In response he held up a scanner. “Badge.”

This caused Chloe some confusion, and she let her hand fall, then she realized what he was asking for. “Oh! Yeah, here you go.” She flashed her all-access badge towards the security guard’s scanner.

The scanner blinked red.

This surprised Chloe, who tried again. 

Red again.

“I’m sorry,” the guard said, holding up a hand after she tried a third time. “Your pass isn’t scanning.”

“It should work,” Chloe insisted, her voice still polite. “I’m with Beca Mitchell’s team, I just went back to the hotel to grab something she needs…”

“Ma’am, I can’t let you in unless the badge clears.”

“Do you have any type of list of people who are allowed in?” Chloe asked.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Could you check it, please,” Chloe asked. “I was led to believe these are very important papers for Beca.” She was getting stressed.

Over the years the guard had dealt with many people trying to sneak in to get a chance to meet their celebrity idol. He tended to be skeptical of anyone trying to get in. Usually he would have sent this redhead on her way, but she had been so polite, so nice, he was willing to go a little extra. He pulled out a clipboard with the list of approved people. “What was your name?”

“Thanks! Beale, Chloe Beale.”

He ran his finger down the list, twice, but didn’t find her name. “I’m sorry ma’am.”

Chloe’s heart sank. She could hear the muffled thump of music from inside. Time was ticking. How could she not be on the list?

Just then, Natasha stepped out around the security guard, vape pen already raised to her lips. She stopped mid-inhale when she saw Chloe. “Red? What are you doing out here?” 

“Hey Natasha,” Chloe said sheepishly. “Can you help? For some reason I’m not on the access list.”

“What the hell?” Natasha rolled her eyes. “She’s with us,” she said as she grabbed Chloe’s wrist, and yanked her past the guard. 

“Hey! You can’t just do that,” said the guard.

”Sure I can,” said Natasha “She’s with me. A Beckette!”

“A what?” the guard asked, but the two women were already gone.

“Thanks,” Chloe said, then gave Natasha a look. “And put that thing away. Your lungs, Natasha.”

“Yes, Mom,” Natasha teased, tucking the vape into her jacket pocket like a misbehaving student. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Inside, Beca was standing near the stage, looking around. When she spotted Chloe, her face lit up. “There you are! Where were you?”

“I went back to the hotel,” Chloe said, holding up the envelope. “Theo said you needed this contract to sign.”

Beca took it, and opened the envelope, when she saw what the papers were, she immediately pulled Chloe into a tight hug. “God, thank you. You always have my back.”

Across the room, Theo scowled and muttered under his breath. His timing had been off, he had meant to intercept the ginger, but somehow Chloe had gotten in and beaten him to deliver those papers.

 The Englishman stalked off, fuming.

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 8: 

Desperation

------------

Theo was beginning to feel something he rarely experienced, desperation.

Normally, he approached these things with precision. He prided himself on the art of subtle sabotage, the slow erosion of confidence, the careful shaping of dependence. It was a game of inches, not miles, and he’d played it masterfully with Beca. He knew just how far to push without tipping her over the edge, just how much to tighten the leash without cutting off her spark. 

A frightened artist was useless. 

An insecure one? 

Moldable.

But the bloody ginger was ruining everything.

In just a few days, Chloe had unraveled much of what had taken Theo months to cultivate. Beca laughed more. She second-guessed him more. And worst of all, she looked to her, that grinning red menace, for reassurance, instead of him.

Even worse, his usual tactics, quiet exclusion, plausible redirection, the occasional feigned concern, were barely touching the ginger. She had a maddening way of bouncing back, or rising above any subversion he directed towards her. She was like some indestructible feline always landing on her feet. Every time he tried to remove her from Beca’s orbit, she found her way back, stronger than before.

It was starting to fray his composure. His polished British restraint was cracking.

Now, for the first time, Theo felt himself slipping into riskier territory, tempted to act more boldly, even recklessly. And he knew, if he couldn’t find a way to dislodge the damn ginger soon, Beca might slip entirely out of his grasp.

-------------

When Beca was present, Theo’s manners were impeccable, opening doors for the two women, praising Chloe for how she has become an integral part of their traveling family, complimenting her organizational skills, and her willingness to help.  The moment Beca’s back turned, the temperature would drop a degree or two.  Not ice-cold, just cool enough for Chloe to wonder if any of it was a real.  He wasn’t demolishing her with a wrecking ball; he was etching cracks with a chisel.

And Beca, swept up in all the obligations  Theo and Khaled were providing, missed many signs. She was still trusting Theo’s guidance, and didn’t see the fissures forming in Chloe’s psyche.

But others were noticing.

----------

As the day passed by Beca grew frustrated. She had been looking forward to rehearsing with Chloe all day. Ever since Chloe had agreed the night before, she’d had the planned melodies buzzing in her head that she wanted to shape with Chloe’s harmonies. But somehow, the day kept slipping away from her.

Theo just seemed to have a knack for it, never outright saying no, never forbidding anything, but always finding a reason. 

One time, he insisted she re-record a few vocal runs for a radio spot, citing “urgent label requests.” That they were for advertisement spots for the music festival and Beca’s participation in it, did lend credence to Theo’s insistence.

It didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Another time, when Chloe was coming on stage to rehearse, came a sudden “briefing” on the setlist order for the music festival. A couple of the festival organizers had unexpectedly arrived at the theater, and only had a short window to meet. Beca had told Theo that he and Lizzy could handle it, but the Englishman had insisted they both were needed and expected to meet with Beca.

With a loud pointed series of expletives, Beca stormed off stage, following the British producer.

With the rehearsal suspended, again, AJ noticed Lizzy lingering behind, looking more anxious than ever.

“What’s up Liz?” AJ asked. “You’re looking a bit frazzled there girl.”

“I don’t understand how this happened,” said Lizzy, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “I emailed the set list first thing this morning. We didn’t have a meeting on the calendar, but then they just showed up. It’s lucky that Theo’s friends with two of them, so he was able to intercede, and smooth things over.”

“Wait,” said Skye who had just walked over. “Theo’s friends with them?”

“Yeah, he went to university with one, and he had another act play in this festival two years ago,” explained Lizzy. Both AJ and Skye exchanged looks. The coincidence was too improbable to be true. Individually they silently decided that something had to be done.

----------

Later, with nothing else to do Chloe was chatting with a sound technician named Leo about microphone placements.  He was pointing out the acoustics of the theater when Theo glided in, smiling.  “You must have been so very popular in college,” he said lightly.  “You talk to everyone, all the time, always with a smile. It’s hard to believe anyone can smile as much as you.”

On the surface he was professional.  Underneath, something about his interactions needled her.  She couldn’t help but wonder,

‘Do I talk too much?  Do I smile too often?  

Often after any interaction Chloe was left feeling a little less. Often her voice suddenly became small as she excused herself.  

It didn’t go unnoticed. On more than one occasion, Minh, helping herself to another espresso, would notice these interactions. Frowning at Theo’s retreating back, she decided to talk to AJ about what she was sensing.

--------------

After what felt like an utterly pointless meeting with music festival reps, Beca was more than ready to rehearse with Chloe. She had melodies itching to come out, harmonies she wanted to shape together with her most favorite person. So when Theo insisted she personally oversee an “urgent” lighting reconfiguration, she nearly screamed. The adjustments dragged on and on, eating away another precious hour.

Meanwhile, backstage, Natasha stood beside Isaac, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the flurry of last-minute changes.

“This all seems weird,” she muttered. “Why are we switching things up this late in the tour?”

Taking up a coil of cables, Isaac gave a tired shrug. “You know how it is. An artist gets a taste of the spotlight and suddenly wants everything redone in their image.”

“You think Beca asked for this?”

“That’s what that bossy Brit claimed,” Isaac replied. “Said the ginger, I’m guessing he meant Chloe, planted a few ideas, and now our diva wants changes. The thing is, it’s all fluff. Rearranging floor tape, tweaking cues that barely matter. It’s busywork, and the crew’s not thrilled.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “Don’t believe everything you’re told,” she said coolly, eyes tracking Theo across the floor.

He stood on the opposite side of the stage, as if he was orchestrating the chaos with that polished smile of his. To the untrained eye, he was simply managing details. But Natasha had been watching long enough to know misdirection when she saw it. This wasn’t about improving the show, this was about stalling. Keeping Chloe and Beca from rehearsing. She knew he was against the idea of adding Chloe to the performance, and was actively putting up roadblocks to get his way.

This got Natasha pondering on other things she had noticed while on this tour; some of which had happened prior to Chloe joining. Now she was starting to wonder just how long he’d been playing this game.

“It’s still work that has to be done,” sighed Isaac, “and I’ve got to get back to it.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Natasha said. “I’ll catch you later.”

---------

Knowing he had to up his campaign, Theo looked for any opportunity to cause a fissure in this new relationship. Ever observant, the Englishman noticed a newly hired stagehand who bore a striking resemblance to the young army officer Chloe had seemed interested in during the USO tour.  

 Taking advantage of Chloe’s tendency to meet every member of the tour, and treating them as a friend, he orchestrated an introduction.

“Hey Chloe, this is Daniel.  He handles rigging.  I found out he went to Barden. Thought you might want to meet. You two could have so much in common.”

The resemblance to Chicago startled Chloe, but hearing he also went to Barden spurred her into friendly conversation. Feeling quite successful, Theo slipped away to implement his next move. From the mezzanine, Theo steered Beca’s gaze toward the pair, murmuring just loudly enough, “Funny how life repeats itself. Doesn’t he look a bit like our Military liaison officer from the USO Tour?”

Looking over to where Theo was indicating, Beca’s brow furrowed. He did look a LOT like the Captain America wannabe from their European adventure. A flicker of uncertainty Theo quickly papered over with talk of the next day’s promotional shoot.  

But the seed had been planted.

Was Chloe drifting?

The petite brunette shook her head to clear that thought. It wasn’t fair to her long time friend. She knew it wasn’t in Chloe’s character to cheat. She was just being friendly like she always did. If there was one certainty in this world, Chloe Beale would never hurt her. They had stood side-by-side, together for too long.

The conflicting emotions of the young music star were quite evident, especially to one who spent a lot of time with her, like Lizzy. Not knowing the history behind what was going on, Lizzy was baffled by what was happening. She knew for a fact that Theo had introduced Chloe to the new hire, but was seeming to suggest something different to Beca. This left Lizzy really confused and conflicted. Technically she worked for Theo, even though she was Beca’s personal assistant; however she had really come to like Beca and Chloe, and Theo seemed to want to cause them heartache. What should she do about it? She wasn’t sure. Maybe one of her friends could offer some good advice.

--------

During the early afternoon rehearsals, a photographer Theo had hired for “organic behind-the-scenes content” arrived to take promotional stills. Taking command with his usual air of assumed authority, Theo choreographed the shots like a film director, positioning people as if they were props in a set piece. Of course, he had a specific placement in mind for Chloe.

“Chloe, love, just step… there,” he said smoothly, guiding her half a meter back, just far enough to crop her from the frame. When she instinctively moved to stand beside Beca, Theo raised a palm, all charm. “Wouldn’t want to crowd the composition, right?”

Before she could respond, he leaned in and added, “Oh, and we have these flyers for the music festival that just came in. Could you take them to the front of the theater? Thank you.”  He thanked Chloe before she agreed to anything. When the redhead lingered, he said, “Quick as you can.”

Her disposition was usually wanting to help and be of service, so despite the unease his requests/orders gave her, Chloe agreed. It was actually the fifth such errand Theo had given her that day. Ever eager to help, Chloe had complied without little hesitation. Earlier, she had fetched the Englishman coffee, relayed a message to wardrobe, hunted down the theater’s manager, and confirmed the arrival time of an electrician who had to be called in. Somewhere along the way, she’d become Theo’s unofficial assistant, without even realizing it.

Though the Beckettes had all noticed, and didn’t like it one bit.

While Beca was talking to the lead guitarist of the backup band about a change up between two songs, Chloe collected the flyers and walked them to the lobby of the theater. When Beca finished her conversation, she looked for Chloe, but Theo thought it was a perfect photographic moment, and rushed the photographer over, and had Beca and various members of the band recreate ‘candid’ moments. It was annoying and time consuming.

A few minutes later, when Beca glanced around and asked where Chloe had gone, Theo offered an easy shrug. “Maybe she needed a breather. It’s been a long day.”

Minh, overhearing, muttered under her breath, “That’s not what happened.” But Beca was already being whisked away.

----------

Concerns kept cropping up throughout the afternoon that Theo insisted needed Beca’s attention; lighting adjustments, a wardrobe consultation, a last-minute call with the PR team, each one seemingly minor, but together they consumed hour after hour of Beca’s time. On their own, none of the tasks seemed unreasonable. But strung together, they acted like weights, dragging Beca further away from Chloe and leaving no time for the rehearsal they’d both been looking forward to.

At first, Beca didn’t question it. She trusted Theo, at least enough to let him handle the scheduling. He still spoke with the calm authority of someone who had her best interests at heart, and had years of experience in the industry. But as she glanced toward the edge of the stage, where Chloe sat with quiet patience, her chest tightened. Her jaw set. The ache behind her eyes was no longer fatigue, it was frustration.

In the background, the Beckettes had started to put the pieces together. At first, it was just a few offhand observations; delays that didn’t make sense, sudden schedule changes, explanations that felt a little too rehearsed. On their own, none of it seemed serious. But over time, the patterns became harder to ignore. Quietly, they began comparing notes, realizing they weren’t alone in their suspicions. Even Lizzy, loyal to a fault, had begun to take notice and joined the others in watching more closely. They started sharing what they saw: odd interactions, missed cues, subtle redirections. Separately, it all felt innocuous. But together, it formed a troubling pattern. What once looked like coincidence now felt intentional. And the Beckettes were no longer willing to dismiss it.

As Theo offered yet another weak excuse to postpone rehearsal, Skye locked eyes with AJ.

“He’s running interference,” AJ muttered under her breath.

Hearing this, Minh’s brow furrowed, as she observed,  “He’s keeping them apart on purpose.”

“I think he’s actually trying to sabotage their relationship,” said Lizzy, her voice tight with concern.

 “He’s good,” said Natasha as she folded her arms. “But not that good.”

“He’s always been slick,” said AJ with open disdain, “but he’s slipping.”

“We need to talk to Beca,” said Skye, “make sure she is getting the whole picture.”

“And kick Theo’s arse,” said AJ.

“Amen to that,” said all the other women, even the usually mousy Lizzy.

As afternoon gave way to evening, Chloe was still waiting off to the side, and Beca was still being pulled in circles. But the growing awareness among the Beckettes marked a shift. They were starting to see Theo’s game for what it was, and they didn’t like it. They were no longer going to just watch, they were preparing to act.

----------

Unfortunately Beca and Chloe were never able to rehearse. 

After that night’s amazing show, Beca met with a couple groups of VIP fans. They were brought in for autographs.  Theo lingered beside Chloe while Beca signed posters, programs, and other merchandise they had bought prior to the concert.

Watching Beca laughing with her fans, Chloe marveled at how her usually introverted friend could so easily interact with the fans. It was almost as if Beca the performer was a different person.

“It’s generous of her,” he said, gesturing at Beca, “keeping someone from college days close.  Grounds her, don’t you think?”

Chloe kept her smile fixed.  The subtext, you’re only nostalgia, settled like lead in her stomach.

“She probably needs that,” Theo continued. “It’s almost like she’s a different person now, so it’s good for her to have an anchor to hold her back.”

----------

Not wanting a repeat of the infamous Taco Run, Theo orchestrated the evening like a conductor who cared only for the crescendo of his own agenda. One by one, he slotted last-minute press calls, meet-and-greets, sponsor check-ins, and a painstakingly detailed post-show “performance audit,” each running just long enough to bleed into the next. 

This meant Chloe was unable to really talk to Beca. She was told Beca would be free by eleven—eleven thirty at the latest, so she took Theo’s suggestion and returned to their suite. Now curled up on the main couch, with a mug of lemon chamomile tea that had gone cold long ago, she was worried. Midnight had crept past, then one o’clock. Every buzz of her phone sent hope flaring, only to fizzle into another push notification or a fan post about Beca’s dazzling set.

She tried to drown her growing unease with distraction, scrolling through her Instagram, checking out backstage photos she’d taken, liking comments she saw on Twitter, replying to a few exuberant fans, but the longer she waited, the louder Theo’s earlier quips echoed in her mind. 

You wouldn’t want to crowd her schedule, would you? 

Best to let the professionals handle the wind-down. 

Each offhand remark felt barbed, nudging her toward self-doubt.

At a quarter past two, while she was slipping on her tennis shoes so she could go find Beca, the door finally eased open. Slipping inside, Beca’s shoulders sagged, eyeliner smudged, voice raspy as she apologized. 

At that moment Chloe swallowed her other worries, gathered the exhausted singer close, and guided her straight to bed, smoothing tangled hair from Beca’s brow as she helped her change and removed her makeup. The petite brunette gave a gentle smile of thanks before she slipped into sleep. 

The conversation Chloe needed could wait, or so she told herself, because love, she reasoned, meant being whatever Beca needed, even if that meant biting back her own rising fears.

------------

The next morning, Beca woke with a deep, contented sigh, her body relaxed from the rare gift of uninterrupted sleep. She stretched lazily, only to find the other side of the bed empty. The absence immediately stirred a ripple of concern, especially after the chaos of the previous day. 

Guilt tugged at her as memories of last night surfaced. She had been shocked at how muchTheo had stacked her post-show schedule with VIP meet-and-greets, autograph signings, and a last-minute E! Entertainment interview. By the time she finally stumbled into the suite, hours later than planned, Chloe had already slipped into caretaker mode—gently helping her change, brush her teeth, and tuck her into bed. Beca barely remembered any of it, but the tenderness lingered like a whisper against her skin. Now, in the quiet light of morning, the empty space beside her felt more like an ache, a reminder of how much time they’d lost to everyone else’s agenda.

Beca rolled onto her side, eyes landing on a folded note resting on the pillow beside her. Her name was written across the front in Chloe’s graceful, looping handwriting—the kind that made even a grocery list look poetic. A flutter of nerves hit her chest as she reached for it. What if last night had changed things? What if Chloe had second thoughts? Her fingers hesitated, but then she unfolded the note. Relief washed over her almost instantly.

Morning, Sleepyhead. 

I didn’t want to wake you—you looked too peaceful. I ran out to grab us breakfast and coffee. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Don’t move a muscle until I get back. 

Love, 

Chloe.

Beca let out a soft laugh, her shoulders relaxing as the tension melted away. The ache in her chest was replaced with something warmer, gratitude, affection, and the quiet joy of being deeply cared for.

------------

Down in the hotel lobby’s café, Chloe stood at the counter scanning the pastry selection, deciding which muffins Beca might be in the mood for; the classic blueberry? Or maybe the double chocolate chip she always pretended not to like but devoured anyway. She was just reaching for a paper bag when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Chloe,” Theo greeted smoothly, his tone light but purposeful. “Glad I caught you.”

Turning slowly, she masked her unease with a polite smile. “Morning, Theo.”

“I was hoping you might help with a quick social push. As you know, Beca’s playing the music festival tomorrow, and the organizers are keen for some real-time promotion. They’re looking behind-the-scenes bits, personal angles, that sort of thing.” His voice was calm, reasonable, even warm. “You have such a natural touch with social engagement. And timing’s critical.”

Despite having already been roped into working on Beca’s social media, Chloe hesitated. She’d just wanted to quickly grab breakfast and get back to Beca; preferably before her girlfriend woke up. But Theo’s pitch was persuasive, after all, this was for Beca’s success. “Alright,” she said, nodding reluctantly. “Just give me a bit to drop this off upstairs.”

“Oh, this should only take a minute,” Theo assured her. “It will take you longer to return to the suite and come back.”

“But…”

“Come luv,” Theo said as he took Chloe by her elbow. “We can knock this out in a jiffy.”

Reluctantly the redhead let herself be led away after Theo made a show of charging her coffees and various pastries and muffins.

Unbeknownst to either of them, AJ and Natasha had just walked into the café. They stopped mid-step, exchanging a glance as they spotted the two talking. AJ frowned, instantly catching the way Chloe’s posture shifted, slightly guarded, hesitant. Just observing the two interacting, Natasha narrowed her eyes.

“That’s it,” AJ muttered under her breath. “We’re going to Beca.”

“Let’s grab the others,” Natasha nodded. “We need to do something, before he twists anything else.”

------------

Still nestled under the covers, Beca was enjoying the last remnants of warmth Chloe had left behind, when she thought she might have heard a knock. She sat up and looked through the bedroom door and called out, “Hello?”

There was a moment of silence before a much firmer knock echoed in from the suite’s main room. She groaned, flopping back against the pillows. She knew Chloe wouldn’t have knocked. 

Which meant… 

Someone else… 

Probably Theo…

Ugh!

With a frustrated sigh, she threw off the blankets, shrugged on the hotel robe, and padded barefoot across the room.

She cracked the door open, and blinked in surprise.

Standing there were her four backup singers, Skye, AJ, Natasha, and Minh, along with Lizzy, all looking unusually serious for this early in the morning.

“Hey, dudes,” Beca said, brow furrowing. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”

“We need to talk,” Skye said, her voice low and direct. Beca noticed she didn’t smile. 

Realizing this must be something important, Beca stepped back, instinctively letting them in, her heart beginning to pick up speed. They’d never shown up at her room like this. Something was clearly up. She looked at Lizzy, who gave her a small, tight nod.

“Okay,” Beca said cautiously, closing the door behind them. “Talk about what?”

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 9: 

Cross Me

------------

“Chloe, dear, would you mind answering a few more of these Instagram questions?” Theo asked with a pleasant smile, just as she was about to leave.

She thought she was done, so Chloe hesitated, glancing toward the elevator. “I really want to get back upstairs… I promised Beca I’d bring her breakfast,” she said plaintively.

“We’re so close to being done,” said Theo reasonably, as he tilted his head slightly to the screen, ever the polished gentleman. “Just a few more, luv. Won’t take but a moment.”

“You said that forty minutes ago,” she replied, her tone soft but weary.

“We’re nearly finished,” Theo said smoothly. “There’s really just a couple more,” replied Theo. “It won't be a jiffy.”

“I guess I can give a few more minutes,”sighed Chloe.

Sensing he had her, Theo continued to say, “And truly, this is such a huge help, for Beca. Promoting the festival, engaging with her fans… It keeps the momentum going. And you, well, you know her better than anyone. Your voice makes it feel personal. Authentic. Beca’s got a mountain on her plate right now, and we don’t want to distract her with all this admin, do we?”

His logic was sound. 

Too sound. 

Sitting back down Chloe blinked at the tablet’s screen. The weight of his words pressing gently but persistently. She knew how much was on Beca’s shoulders. She wanted to support Beca in any way she could. She always did. So she gave a tired smile and nodded. “Alright.”

“You’re such a supportive friend,” he said with silken admiration. Then, just as she turned back to the screen, he added lightly, “You really do shine in someone else’s spotlight.”

The comment struck her as odd and unnecessary. Not cruel. Not even said unkindly. But sharp in their precision. That was Theo, after all. British charm, tidy manners, impeccable timing. He spoke like someone doing you a favor. Helping. Improving. But then came his comments. Never outright cruel. Just… needling. She didn’t know how to respond, so she said nothing; just sat there and began typing.

But the intent stayed with her as she started responding to the social media questions.

------------

A jiffy turned out to be another half hour, so it was an exasperated Chloe who stepped back into the suite with a soft sigh. She nudged the door closed behind her with a quick flick of her hip. The scent of fresh coffee wafted up from the two new cups she balanced carefully in her hands along with the bag of baked goods. The small paper bag of muffins and danishes she’d picked out earlier now felt like a relic of a morning long since derailed.

Still she had hoped she could deliver breakfast for her girlfriend.

“Beca?” she called, placing the pair of hot drinks on the dining table. No answer. She tried again, a little louder this time. “Beca?”

Frowning, Chloe headed toward the bedroom, her exhaustion dragging behind her like a heavy coat. She paused at the doorway, disappointment tugging at her chest when she found the bed empty and unmade, untouched since Beca had left it that morning. 

There was one last hope.

Unfortunately the bathroom was just as she expected, silent and empty.

She turned back toward the bed, her eye catching something on her pillow. A folded piece of paper. Her first thought was that it was the note she’d left for Beca earlier. But as she stepped closer, she noticed the messy scrawl across the front.

Chloe.

Her name was scrawled in Beca’s unmistakably scribble handwriting. It stared up at her from the folded note.

Unfolding it with a flicker of hope, Chloe felt a rush of relief. Beca hadn’t vanished or shut her out, at least not entirely. But as she read the brief message, her brow furrowed. It seemed that Beca had gone to the theater and wanted Chloe to meet her there at three o’clock sharp. No explanation. Just a time and place. She reread the note to be sure she wasn’t missing something, but that was all.

Why the theater?

As far as she knew, they had wrapped everything up the night before. She knew Beca’s stage crew had packed, cleared, and finished up last night. 

What was left to do there?

Still, something might’ve changed; Chloe wouldn’t know. She wasn’t exactly in the loop.

Setting the note on the counter, she picked up her coffee and moved toward the bathroom. If Beca had asked her to come, then she would, no questions asked. And if this was important enough for Beca to leave a handwritten note, Chloe wanted to be ready.

Not knowing what was planned, she figured it was best to look her best. A shower, a fresh outfit, something that made her feel like her again. 

Maybe today, she’d finally get some answers.

------------

Beca stood center stage in the dim glow of the theater, arms crossed, gaze laser-focused as her crew bustled around her. Every detail needed to be perfect, every element in its place. Outwardly, she projected calm, both measured and composed. But inside, a storm churned. She had always sensed something was off about Theo, even back on the USO tour, an uneasy feeling that had only grown during the tour. 

The last few days this feeling had only grown. The suspicion she’d carried for days had hardened into something colder, heavier. She had trusted Theo. Maybe not a close friend, but a friend nonetheless and she had trusted him with her career. 

Now it was clear, he had been manipulating her. Worse, he hadn’t just been manipulating her; no he’d gone after Chloe, too.

That betrayal cut deeper.

No one messes with Chloe.

She scanned the rows of empty seats, the silence pressing down heavily upon her. This wasn’t going to be a dress rehearsal. This was going to be a reckoning. The audience this afternoon wouldn’t be a roaring crowd but a small, pointed circle. And yet the stakes had never felt higher.

She needed this to be a very public and powerful declaration, so there couldn’t be any misinterpretation. With his polish and intelligence, Theo could twist things to his advantage, so Beca didn’t feel comfortable dealing with this one-on-one.

Her fingers tightened against her arms. No distractions. No loose ends. Not today. Every light cue, every chord, every breath needed to land exactly where it was supposed to. She owed that to herself. 

And to Chloe.

Behind her, she heard the faint hum of the piano warming up, the drumsticks tapping in rhythm. Beca exhaled slowly, grounding herself. There would be a time for confrontation. For truth. But right now, there was only the music—and the need to get it right.

She walked over to James, her lead guitarist, who was tuning his instrument. “You all good?” she asked.

The guitarist gave a confident nod and let his fingers glide into the intro of the song, the familiar chords humming through the air.

“Yeah, we got this,” James said, flashing a grin.

Beca nodded and turned toward the drummer. “Eli?”

With a twirl of his drumstick, Eli gave her a salute, then struck out the opening rhythm, steady and tight, playing the drum chords just the way she wanted them.

“Alex?” she called, glancing toward the man standing at the electric piano.

He answered with his hands, playing the opening progression with practiced ease.

“Okay,” said Beca, stepping back and scanning the group. “I think we’ve got the basics. Let’s run it together.”

Her voice carried the quiet authority of someone who knew what she wanted—and who wasn’t afraid to ask for it. She turned to AJ next. “You’ve got the opening?”

AJ flashed a thumbs up. “Cheers, boss.”

Offering a small smile, Beca turned toward the edge of the stage and looked for her assistant. “Lizzy?”

“Yes, boss?” her assistant called from the wings, already stepping from the shadows, her eyes glued to her smartphone.

“Thanks for securing us use of this theater,” Beca said, gesturing toward the space around them. “It’s perfect for my plans.

“No problem, boss,” Lizzy replied, clearly proud of herself.

“Did you make the call?”

“Yep.”

“And…?”

“Three o’clock. Today. Here,” Lizzy confirmed with quiet confidence.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Beca pressed. She had to ask, as she needed this to go off without a hitch.

“Yes, boss,” said Lizzy as she straightened up. ”One hundred percent.”

The transformation in the young personal assistant was remarkable. Gone was the usually shy and nervous young woman; instead Lizzy radiated the certainty of someone who had made the right call and knew it.

“Perfect. We’re running through the whole set. I need someone posted in the lobby, to make sure Chloe and Theo don’t come in until three. Not a minute before.”

“I’ll take care of it,” responded Lizzy.

“And Theo… I need him kept away until then, but he must be here at three sharp.”

“I’ll handle it personally,” Lizzy said, a spark in her eye.

Her newfound confidence didn’t go unnoticed.

“You go, girl!” Skye called out.

“Boss babe energy!” Natasha whooped.

“Good on ya, girl!” AJ shouted.

Beca grinned. “Seriously, Liz. You’ve been incredible dude. Just let me know the moment anyone arrives.”

“Will do boss,” Lizzy said, already striding briskly toward the entrance with purpose.

Beca drew in a deep breath, grounding herself. The stage was set. The plan was in motion. Showtime was coming, and this time, it had to be unforgettable.

------------

In frustration, Theo strode through the hotel lobby, his polished shoes snapping sharply against the highly polished marble floor. His eyes scanned the lobby space. Mid morning meant a lot of empty chairs and couches, idle bellhops, the faint conversational noise of the nearby café, but no sign of Beca, Lizzy, or anyone remotely useful from the tour. He was tempted to check the cafe and restaurant again, but had already done it twice. Instead the Englishman pulled out his phone again and pulled up his contacts. He flicked his thumb on Beca’s contact, there wasn’t even a ring, but instead went straight to voicemail. 

Again. 

First Beca, then he clicked on Lizzy’s. Her number at least rang, before also going to voicemail.

No answer from either.

His jaw tightened as he waited for the beep of the assistant’s voicemail.

“Lizzy, it’s Theo. I’ve been trying to reach you. Where the hell is everyone? I’ve called, I’ve knocked, no answer. This isn’t like you. Call me back the moment you get this. We need to talk. Now!”

This was wholly unacceptable. He’d already been up to Beca’s suite, knocked twice, then three times, even tried the handle. Nothing. The silence inside the door was thick and seemed deliberate. 

It was as if the entire had all simply vanished.

To make matters worse, his boss DJ Khaled, had been unavailable to talk. When he pressed, his usual fallback had sent a curt message: “Something came up. Can’t talk. Later.”

For someone who required complete control, Theo exhaled through his nose, to keep himself calm. He was barely restraining the curse building in his throat. Something was happening, something big and coordinated. Nothing else made sense. Something deliberate was going on behind his back. And he had a sinking suspicion who was behind it.

The ginger.

Of course it was the damn ginger. Always lurking at the edges, too sweet, too helpful, too present. Chloe had somehow turned the tables on him. How? He wasn’t sure yet. But he knew manipulation when he saw it, and if anyone was orchestrating this sudden wall of silence, it was her.

And that meant trouble.

------------

Emerging from the elevator, Chloe looked radiant. Her carefully chosen outfit was business sharp yet effortlessly stylish, and she’d taken extra time with her hair and makeup. She felt really put-together, and poised; ready for anything the afternoon threw at her. The soft click of her heels on the marble floor echoed throughout the hotel’s lobby as she made her way toward the front door and the hotel’s porte cochère, where Beca had arranged for a car to pick her up.

She was halfway across the expansive space when a sharp voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Where is she?” Theo hissed, striding toward her with barely restrained fury. His pace was just a tad less than a sprint and he was upon her within a second.

Startled by his sudden appearance and aggressive tone, Chloe froze. “What—who are you talking about?” she asked, confused and caught off guard.

The instant she was within reach, his hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. It wasn’t violent, but it was forceful enough to make her wince.

“Let go of me,” she snapped, yanking her arm free. Her voice dropped into a dangerous register. “Never touch me.” She was through with being touched or grabbed without her approval.

The warning in her tone hit its mark. Theo immediately released her, realizing too late that he had crossed a serious line. A few heads in the lobby had already turned towards their encounter. He immediately held up his hands in a surrender gesture and took a half step back.

“My apologies,” he said quickly, voice softening. “It’s just been a right mare…”

“A what?” Chloe asked, brow furrowed. She had no idea what that meant.

“A right mare. A frustrating day,” he clarified impatiently.

“Okay… why?” she asked, genuinely confused.

This innocent question set his feelings a boiling, as Theo wasn’t buying her sweet innocence act. His eyes narrowed, his voice tightening with suspicion. “Don’t play coy, Chloe. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t,” she replied, taking a cautious half step back.

“Where. Is. Beca?” Theo demanded, stepping closer as he over enunciated each word.

Before Chloe could respond, a calm voice intervened. “Theo.”

They both turned to see Lizzy standing just inside the entrance. Chloe released an audible sigh of relief. Theo’s intensity was unnerving.

“There you are,” Theo snapped. “Where the bloody Hell have you been?”

Ignoring him entirely, Lizzy addressed Chloe. “Your car is waiting out front.”

Clearly relieved by the PA’s timely arrival, Chloe nodded in gratitude, flashing her a soft smile before turning to leave.

“Wait just a minute!” Theo barked at the ginger as she speed walked towards the main doors. “We’re not bloody finished here.”

Halfway to the exit, Chloe turned back. “What else is there to say?”

“Where. Is. BECA?” he growled, each word louder than the last.

“Waiting for you at the theater,” Lizzy replied coolly, her tone flat and unimpressed. She gave Chloe a reassuring nod, and the redhead slipped out through the front doors.

“The theater?” Theo repeated, incredulous. “What the Bloody Hell is she doing at the theater?”

“She needed rehearsal space,” Lizzy answered, monotone.

“I didn’t authorize that,” he snapped. “Who gave her permission?”

“Beca,” Lizzy said simply. “She’s unveiling a new song.”

“A new song?” Theo’s brow furrowed. “This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“You can take it up with her,” Lizzy replied evenly. “She’s expecting you. Shall we?”

Caught off guard by his subordinate’s insolence, Theo’s eyes flashed with fury. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “But mark my words, Elizabeth,” he practically spat her name, “you and I are going to have a long conversation about your attitude. And your future with this studio.”

Completely unfazed, Lizzy gave a nonchalant nod, then gestured for him to lead the way through the front doors.

------------

Having been driven right up to the main entrance Chloe stepped through the front doors of the theater, the now familiar lobby surprisingly full this afternoon. The moment she entered, a smiling stagehand tipped his cap. “Afternoon, Chloe.”

“Hey, Carlos,” she said warmly. “How are your daughters?”

“Very well, thank you,” answered Carlos. “They’re going to be at the festival tomorrow, since we’re not needed for setup, I get a whole a whole day with them and Maria.”

“That’s aca-awesome, Carlos.”

“Chloe!” called another voice, this one belonging to Isaac from lighting. Chloe waved and greeted him by name as well. Then Dan and Jade from sound. One by one, the crew members acknowledged her with the easy affection of people who genuinely liked her. It wasn’t just that the redhead remembered their names, it was how she spoke to them, like they mattered.

“You’re expected,” said a grinning light tech named Paul, opening a door for her. “She’s in the main auditorium.”

“Thanks, Paul,” Chloe replied, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder as she stepped inside.

The doors swung closed behind her, and she stopped in her tracks.

Onstage, under the full wash of soft blue-white lights, stood Beca and the full band, James at guitar, Eli at the drums, Alexis at the keys, and Sean on bass. Bracketing Beca was the Beckettes lined up two on each side standing at their mics, all facing forward like they were seconds from curtain call.

“Beca?” Chloe called out, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Hey beautiful,” Beca replied with a grin. “Please take your seat. The show’s about to start.”

“The show?” Chloe echoed, completely bewildered.

“You’ll see,” Beca winked with a mischievous smirk.

The wink and smirk caused Chloe’s heart to flutter as she moved toward the front row, unsure what Beca had planned. One thing was certain of one: whatever this was, it was meant for her.

------------

With an impatient huff, Theo stormed into the theater, Lizzy trailing just behind, struggling to match his pace.

“You’re her assistant,” he snapped without turning. “How do you not know what she’s planning or why we’re meeting here?”

“I told you,” Lizzy replied, exasperated but steady. “She just asked me to bring you here. That’s all she said.”

“This is completely inexcusable,” Theo muttered, exhaling sharply through his nose. The theater was supposed to be shut down—stripped and cleared, preparing for the next act on the schedule. Their crew should already be en route to New Orleans, not back here playing house.

So how in God’s name had Beca gotten this place reopened—and fully staged—for whatever overblown drama she was about to unleash?

Fueled by suspicion and irritation, he pushed open the auditorium doors and froze.

The stage gleamed under a rich wash of blue-white light, every detail polished and purposeful. Beca stood dead center, poised and radiant, her posture calm yet electric. On either side of her were the Beckettes, two to the left and two to the right, each standing tall behind their microphones like seasoned professionals. Behind them, the band was fully assembled—James on guitar, Eli tapping at the drums, Alexis at the keys, and Sean tuning the bass.

Theo blinked in disbelief. The setup was flawless. It looked like the opening scene of a headline act—and he was certain the entire set had been torn down just the night before.

Then movement caught his eye.

In the front row, Chloe sat with perfect poise, legs crossed, a faint smile tugging at her lips as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment. She looked radiant, her red hair gleaming under the light, her body language utterly relaxed. At ease. In control.

Of course she was here.

Of course she had the best seat in the house.

And of course, of course, this had her fingerprints all over it.

Theo’s stomach turned, his fury bubbling just beneath the surface. The entire production felt like a declaration, and Chloe was its muse.

“Unbelievable,” he growled under his breath, a pit opening in his gut. He was losing control of the narrative—and worst of all, he was sure Chloe knew it.

Focusing on the stage, he raised his voice. “Beca! What’s the point of all this?”

Beca leaned closer to  her mic, her voice smooth and cool. “A little show,” she said with a smirk. “You could call it a new release.”

“That’s not an answer!” Theo barked, storming forward. “What the bloody hell is all this?”

Beca didn’t flinch. Her eyes locked on his, unshaken.

“This one’s for Chloe,” she said calmly. Then her gaze sharpened. “But you need to listen. Very carefully.”

Suddenly, the theater went pitch black. Theo stumbled mid-step, his vision swallowed by total darkness.

“What the bloody fuck, Beca?” he snapped.

Then, a single spotlight blinked on, cutting cleanly through the darkness and casting a narrow, brilliant beam across the stage. Surprisingly it wasn’t Beca who stood in its glow. The light found AJ instead, standing just left of center, her posture straight and steady, bathed in a halo of cool white light that shimmered against the subtle glitter on her Beckettes shirt.

The young Englishwoman stepped up to her mic with quiet confidence, her hand curling around the stand as if anchoring herself to the moment. She took a breath, slow and controlled, then confidently began to rap,

“Anything she needs, she can call me

Don't worry 'bout her, that's my seed, 

bruh that's all me

Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me

Cross me, cross me,”

Each word landed like a carefully aimed arrow, personal, purposeful, and impossibly poignant. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead, but her voice seemed to aim itself at Theo with unflinching precision, as if calling him out without ever saying his name.

The drummer, Eli, pressed his foot down with precision, sending a deep, steady bass thump through the floor, perfectly synchronized with the cadence of AJ’s next lyrics.

“If you, if you, if you, if you,”

A second spotlight flared to life, casting a focused beam on Beca, illuminating her poised figure in a dramatic wash of silver-white against the shadowed stage, and she said,

‘It's Beca again’

With that, the full band launched into motion, guitar, keys, bass, and drums igniting together—as the other three Beckettes stepped forward to join AJ in soaring harmony.  AJ’s clear alto led the first line, quickly joined by Natasha’s smoky mezzo, Skye’s rich contralto, and Minh’s soaring soprano, their vocal layers folding over one another like silk,

“Anything she needs, she can call me

Don't worry 'bout her, that's my seed, 

bruh that's all me

Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me

Cross me, cross me, 

If you, if you, if you, if you,”

Then Beca began to sing in earnest, her voice rich and commanding, cutting through the music with raw emotion. Every lyric carried weight, her passion radiating across the stage with the magnetic intensity that was making her a rising star.

 “And she ain't messin' with no other one

Me and her have something different

I really need all you to understand,”

Beca turned her gaze toward Chloe, locking eyes with the redhead, who sat frozen in awe. With a playful grin, Beca gave her a deliberate suggestive wink, full of love and promise.

“That nobody's comin' close

And I don't ever wanna run around

I spent my youth jumpin' in and out

You know I fuckin' love her now

Like nobody ever could, ”

Chloe’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as emotion surged unexpectedly through her.  Had Beca just sung she loved her? Or was that just a lyric in the song?

“And you know I stay trippin', am I crazy? Oh, no

I'm stickin' with my baby, for sure

Together or solo

It doesn't matter where we are, oh no no

So if you hear about my lady, just know

That she ain't the one to play with, oh no

And I'll be standin' so close

So you know that hey…”

The four Beckettes began singing again, their voices rising in perfect harmony, weaving together with practiced precision and emotional depth,

”Anything she needs, she can call me

Don't worry 'bout her, that's my seed, 

bruh that's all me

Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me

Cross me, cross me,”

Beca stepped forward and joined the other four singers, her voice cutting through with fierce clarity. Her gaze locked onto Theo, sharp and unrelenting, as if daring him to misunderstand her message.

”Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me

Cross me, cross me, if you, if you, if you, if you

If you cross her, then you cross me (Cross me), ”

As Theo listened, hepaled, his face draining of color as the lyrics hit with undeniable clarity, each word a sharp, deliberate blow to his composure. 

”And nobody's comin' close, yeah

And I think that you should know that

If you cross her (Anything she needs, she can call me), ”

While Beca’s voice was that of an angel, her words were steel; sharp, unwavering, forged in defiance. Her gaze remained locked and unyielding on the Englishman. Every word she sang carried the weight of a warning, the fire of an unshakable promise. 

”So come on, and let it go

Oh, I think that you should know

That she ain't messin' with no other one

Now, what you not gon' do

Is stand there, crouched for me, like you got kung-fu

Death stare, cross-armed, runnin' your mouth like a faucet

But you don't know that my girl been doin' CrossFit

Pew, kung pow, hit your ass with a cross kick

Pulling air out, wear you out, you exhausted

Know she gonna slide anytime you bitches talk shit,”

Hearing Beca’s lyrics, Chloe couldn’t help but laugh—soft at first, then full and genuine. Beca had always playfully teased her about her obsession with CrossFit and kickboxing. That Beca had worked it into a song—right there on stage, in front of everyone—was so perfectly, hilariously Beca. The way the lyrics playfully jabbed at her routines while still sounding weirdly affectionate made Chloe’s chest swell with warmth. It was funny, yes, but also undeniably sweet.

”Better pay your respect to the queen

Better do that shit without a flirt

Gotta respect the HBIC

Couple of things that you need to know

If you still wanna be friends with me

Just know if you cross her, then you cross me, ”

With another playful wink toward Chloe, Beca smoothly lifted her mic from its stand and strutted across the stage, her movements confident and deliberate. She stopped just above Theo, singing down at him with pointed intensity. Her voice dripped with meaning, every lyric aimed like a blade. As she hit the chorus, the Beckettes joined in again, their harmonies swelling behind her like a rising tide, adding weight and rhythm to her message. The stage pulsed with energy, and Beca stood at its center, fearless and commanding.

”Cross me, cross me, if you, if you, if you, if you

If you cross her (Anything she needs, she can call me)

Then you cross me (Don't worry about her, that's my seed, bruh, that's all me)

And nobody's comin' close, yeah

And I think that you should know that

If you cross her (Anything she needs, she can call me)

Then you cross me (Don't worry about her, that's my seed, bruh, that's all me), ”

The band gradually tapered off, each instrument falling away in perfect sync until the stage fell into an expectant hush. The four Beckettes softened their harmonies, their voices gently fading into the stillness like a receding tide. All that remained was Beca—standing alone in the spotlight, her voice ringing out a cappella. The silence around her made each note sharper, more intimate, as if the entire theater were holding its breath. Her solo filled the space with raw, unfiltered emotion, every syllable laced with defiance and truth. It was no longer a performance—it was a reckoning.

”And I think that you should know that

If you cross her Then you cross me

So come on, and let it go

Oh, I think that you should know

If you cross her

Anything she needs, she can call me

Then you cross me

Don't worry about her, that's my seed, that's all me

Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me

Cross me, cross me, if you, if you, if you, if you

Oh yeah, ”

By the time she hit the final note, the room was electric, charged with tension, emotion, and awe. The theater seemed to hold its breath. Every light was off, save for a single spotlight that bathed Beca in a halo of brilliance, highlighting her in the silence.

Chloe’s eyes shone with awe and happiness.  

Theo swallowed hard, knowing his game was up.  

“By the way Theo,” said Beca, “You’re fired!”

------------

To be Continued…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 10: 

New Management

------------

“By the way Theo,” said Beca, “You’re fired!”

She said it coolly, her voice echoing through the hushed theater as she lowered the mic.

The words landed like a thunderclap.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned.

It was startling then as the house lights came back on in the theater. Everyone, the crew, the band, the Beckettes, Chloe, everyone was frozen in place. Eyes were wide with shock. A few mouths fell open, but no sound came. 

No one moved.

All eyes shifted to Theo.

The Englishman blinked, mouth twitching, as if the words hadn’t fully registered. He stood paralyzed in stunned disbelief, just long enough for the humiliation to settle in, before his features twisted into fury.

He did NOT lose. 

He had spent too much time grooming this situation. 

He would NOT be denied!

His composure snapped.

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” Theo bellowed, voice booming off the walls. His face flushed crimson as years of calculation and control came crashing down around him. “You can’t fire me! I built this! I MADE you!”

His accent grew razor-sharp with every syllable, spit flying as he roared, his hands clenched into trembling fists. His entire body vibrated with barely restrained fury. “You wouldn’t be anywhere without me!” he screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of his unraveling ego.

But Beca didn’t flinch. She stood still, tall and resolute, her mic still in hand. Her face was unreadable, calm, cool, almost eerily composed. She didn’t need to respond. Her silence was more powerful than anything she could say, and that realization only made Theo’s rage burn hotter.

He was losing everything; control, influence, relevance, and he knew it.

Then, slicing through the tension like a blade, came a new voice—clear, impassioned, and furious.

“YOU DIDN’T MAKE HER!”

Shocked by the pure fury of the shout, Theo’s head jerked toward the sound. His eyes narrowed in disbelief as he saw the ginger angrily striding towards him. For a heartbeat, the fire in his gaze flickered, uncertain.

Just as surprised, Beca turned too, visibly astounded by the redhead’s passion. She was dismayed  to find Chloe moving from her seat in the front towards Theo. The redhead seemed taller as she moved, her posture rigid, arms at her sides, hands curled in fists, trembling not with fear—but fury. Her voice shook with emotion, but it carried clearly through the theater, steady and fierce.

“You might’ve opened a few doors,” Chloe said, her voice rising in conviction, “but you didn’t make Beca. What the fans see on that stage is one hundred percent BECA EFFIN’ MITCHELL!!! Her voice! Her vision! Her passion! Her FIRE! She’s not standing up there because of you. You’re just someone who tried to profit off her brilliance.”

The words struck Theo like a slap across the face. His jaw clenched, but a beat later, he recovered; twisting it like a seasoned manipulator.

“You’re one to talk,” he sneered, each word laced with venom, his tone cutting as sharply as a dagger. “What exactly are you doing here? Riding her coattails?”

“She’s here,” Beca cut in, her voice low, sharp, and unwavering, “because I want her here. She’s not some accessory or a hanger on, she’s essential. To this tour, to this team… to me.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is,” Theo drawled, his tone dripping with insinuation. “I think we all know exactly what she’s offering you.” The Englishman made a point to leer at the redhead, as he continued,  “And why you’re keeping her around.”

“Watch it, Theo,” Beca said coldly, her voice edged with a quiet threat. “You’re not just pushing boundaries anymore; you’re about to step way over a line you really don’t want to cross.”

Unfazed, Theo smirked, “Lines only matter to people afraid to cross them. Lucky for me, I’ve never been that timid.”

“If you weren’t already fired, you damn sure would be now,” Beca growled, leaping from the stage with fluid precision. Years of cardio and dance had trained her body to move with unexpected grace; fast, balanced, and sure-footed. She landed effortlessly and advanced on Theo with measured, dangerous strides. The fire in her eyes made it clear; this wasn’t a warning. And for once, Theo actually looked nervous.

Realizing this, Theo quickly masked his flicker of unease, swallowing it behind a smug smirk. Straightening his spine, he stood tall, easily towering over the petite brunette by eight inches, using every bit of it to gain advantage. “I am integral to this tour!”

“No! You’ve always been superfluous,” Beca snapped, stepping up until she was nose-to-chest with Theo. She stared up into Theo’s face. “I’m the integral one. You’re the dead weight.” She glared up at him, unflinching. Height had never fazed her; Beca had spent her life being the smallest person in the room, but when she was angry, she didn’t shrink. She surged. Inches meant nothing when your voice, your presence, could knock someone back harder than a shove. “You’re not needed here.”

“So what?” Theo barked out a disbelieving laugh, eyes narrowing as he stared down at the petite brunette. “What’s your grand plan now? You’re actually going to replace me with her?”

“Her and Lizzy,” Beca said coolly, flashing a smirk as she shrugged, unfazed by his height. “Turns out competence and loyalty make a pretty unbeatable combo.”

“WHAT?!”

Both Theo and Chloe blurted out the word at the exact same moment, their voices overlapping in stunned, almost comical unison, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Beca?” Chloe’s voice came out barely above a whisper, laced with disbelief and uncertainty, as if saying the name might somehow make sense of everything that was happening. 

“Are you actually serious right now?” Theo demanded, his voice rising with incredulity, eyes narrowing as he searched Beca’s face for any sign she was bluffing. He instinctively began to puff out his chest in the subconscious desire to intimidate Beca.

“Perfectly,” Beca replied, arms crossed firmly over her chest, not phased by his pitiful attempts at intimidation. Her stance was unshakable and her gaze locked on Theo, daring him to challenge her conviction.

Thrown off by Beca’s unwavering stance, Theo faltered, for just for a heartbeat. He hadn’t expected her to push back so forcefully. He hadn’t realized just how much the ginger had thrown off his carefully constructed plans. But he wasn’t one to admit defeat and quickly regrouped, masking his frustration with a twisted grin.

“Oh, this is too rich,” he scoffed, forcing out a brittle, mocking laugh that echoed with cruelty. “You can’t be serious. This—this—this has to be some kind of joke, right?”

“Nope,” Beca said flatly, her voice firm and unwavering. Her eyes locked on his. “I’m dead serious, and I’ve never been more certain about anything.”

Still not quite believing what she had just heard, Chloe shook her head slowly, eyes wide with emotion, clearly overwhelmed. “Beca, I don’t… I can’t…” she whispered, voice trembling.

“You really think she can handle everything I do?” Theo spat, his voice dripping with contempt. “Meet with venues? Deal with the press? Coordinate logistics? Don’t kid yourself, Beca.”

“I expect Lizzy to take point on that,” Beca replied evenly, her voice calm but resolute. “She’ll lead, but she’s also going to mentor Chloe, help her grow into the role. Because Chloe’s got strengths you never recognized, Theo. You underestimate her. But I see her. And I believe in her.”

“Come on, Beca! Be serious!” Theo snapped, his tone cutting like a whip. 

“I AM!” Beca shouted back. 

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” Theo shouted back. “Get your head in the game before you throw everything we’ve built down the drain!”

Before Beca could fire back at Theo, a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision drew her attention. She turned her head and saw that the roadies and stage crew had all paused what they were doing, tools in hand, conversations halted, watching the confrontation unfold like a live drama. One crew member in particular caught her attention. Carlos met her gaze with a curious, slightly concerned expression. She was struck by the spark of inspiration. With a warm smile Beca turned to Chloe, her tone shifting to gentle warmth.

“Chloe,” Beca asked, her voice calm but purposeful, “how many daughters does Carlos have?”

Caught completely off guard, Chloe blinked in surprise before answering tentatively, “Three…”

“And what does Carlos do for the tour?” Beca asked, her tone still calm but clearly leading somewhere.

Hesitating for a second or two, before answering, “He’s sort of the lead stagehand, like the foreman, right? He oversees all the crew during loading and unloading. One of his main jobs is making sure all your equipment is packed and unpacked properly, so nothing gets damaged.”

She glanced at Carlos who nodded encouragingly, then back at Beca, unsure where this was going.

“What exactly is this supposed to prove?” Theo drawled, crossing his arms with a scoff. His voice oozed contempt, clearly unimpressed and dismissive of the exchange.

Beca ignored Theo completely, keeping her focus squarely on Chloe. “That lighting technician you introduced me to the other day…”

“Isaac?” Chloe guessed.

“Yeah, Isaac,” Beca nodded. “What’s his dream?”

Chloe blinked, caught off guard by the question, but answered anyway. “He wants to work for Industrial Light & Magic someday. And honestly, I think he’s got a real shot.”

“And why’s that?” Beca asked, her voice calm but purposeful.

“Because he’s not just good—he’s brilliant at what he does,” Chloe explained. “Sure, he sets up the lights, but his real talent is in programming them. He designs those light shows that sync perfectly with your sets. He works closely with the soundboard team to make sure every beat, every drop, lines up with the lighting.”

Beca nodded again, then asked, “And who’s running the soundboard?”

Without missing a beat, Chloe replied, “Dan and Jade. They’ve been rock-solid the whole tour.”

“And how long, approximately, does it take for them to get set up?” Beca asked.

“Roughly ninety minutes,” Chloe answered immediately.

“Where are you going with this?” Theo demanded, irritation flaring in his voice. “So she knows a few names from the stage crew—what does that prove?”

“I’d wager,” Beca replied coolly, “that if I asked her about anyone on this tour, she could tell me something personal about them; AND something specific about their work.”

“So what?” Theo scoffed.

“It shows she cares,” Beca shot back, her voice firm as she pointed toward Chloe. “That woman kept the Bellas from flying apart at the seams for four chaotic years. She wrangled eight strong personalities with zero budget and no roadies. You think she can’t handle a professional crew?”

She swept her hand toward the stage and the auditorium. “This lot? She can manage them in her sleep.” 

“You really think this crew will take her seriously?” Theo scoffed, sweeping his arm toward all the gathered people. “They’re only nice to her because you’re fucking her! Not because they respect her!”

Beca’s hands clenched into fists, fury boiling just beneath the surface. She was seconds from rearranging Theo’s smug British face—when an unexpected voice cut through the tension.

“I’d follow her, no question,” Skye said firmly, stepping forward without a moment’s hesitation.

“Same here,” Natasha and AJ echoed in perfect sync, their voices steady and full of conviction.

Minh gave a firm nod, her expression resolute, silently adding her support without needing a word.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Chloe,” Lizzy said warmly, offering the redhead an encouraging smile.

“I’m in,” Isaac called out confidently. “I’ll work with her.” He pointedly looked at Theo as he said, “No hesitation.”

“Count me in,” Jade added with a quick smile.

“What she said,” Dan nodded, his tone easy but sincere, backing Chloe without missing a beat.

“I’ll walk if she doesn’t replace you,” Carlos said flatly, staring Theo down. “I want to be the kind of father my daughters can be proud of.” He then gave Beca and Chloe a smile and nod as he continued,  “And I want to raise them to become the kind of strong, decent women that Beca and Chloe are.”

Seeing and hearing this groundswell of support for Chloe, Beca stood tall. Pride swelled in her chest as one by one, every member of her tour rallied behind Chloe —and her. From the crew to the band, each voice rang out in support, affirming their trust and willingness to work with Chloe without hesitation. Beca didn’t need to say much more. She finally turned to Theo, her gaze sharp, calm, and unmistakably final. “So,” she said coolly, “I think it’s clear—your services are no longer required.”

“You don’t have the authority!” he barked.

Beca’s smirk returned. “Funny… I think I just used it.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed, his voice low and biting. “Fine. Then I’ll take this straight to DJ Khaled. Let’s see how he feels about your little power play.”

A deep voice echoed from the doorway. “No need to take it anywhere, Theo, I’ve heard everything.” DJ Khaled stepped fully into the auditorium, arms crossed. “And I’m inclined to back Beca.”

Spinning about, Theo was stunned to see his boss standing there. The color drained from his face as the words sank in. “WHAT?”

Instead of answering immediately, DJ Khaled stepped further into the auditorium, walking up to where Theo and Beca were standing, his expression calm but resolute. “I’ve been made aware of some… concerning behavior on your part these last few days, Theo,” he said evenly. “Multiple scheduling issues, unexplained changes, and more than one crew member voicing concerns about your actions towards this lovely lady.” He nodded towards Chloe. “I brushed it off at first, but then I received a rather detailed report, which showed a number of documented instances which show a pattern of gaslighting. It was enough to convince me to come personally.” He then nodded to Beca. “Which allowed me a chance to listen to this amazing woman’s impassioned case for replacing you with these two amazing young women.”

He looked toward Beca, nodding with respect. “Her argument for Chloe and Lizzy? Passionate. Clear. And backed by evidence. I didn’t just hear emotion; I heard leadership.”

“Wait,” Theo’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious? You’re going to take her word over mine?” he sputtered. “She’s an artist, not a manager!”

DJ Khaled raised an eyebrow. “She’s a headliner who runs her tour like a pro. And you’ve made this tour harder, not better.”

Theo took a step forward, desperate to recover ground. “Khaled, you can’t be.. ”

“I can,” Khaled interrupted firmly. “And I am.”

“You heard the man,” Beca said with a smirk, her tone icy-smooth. “Now if you’ll excuse us—we’ve got a closed rehearsal to get started.”

-----------

A few hours later, the hotel suite was quiet again, the distant hum of the city barely reaching them. The adrenaline from earlier had faded, replaced by the satisfying high of a strong rehearsal—but even that was starting to wear off, leaving both women drained. Still, the tension from the day lingered in the air, unspoken but heavy.

Chloe shut the door behind them with a bit more force than she intended. She whirled around, cheeks flushed, eyes intense with emotion. “Okay,” she said sharply, “we need to talk.”

 “We do?” Beca asked with feigned innocence. She even batted her eye lashes.

“Don’t be a brat,” Chloe growled.

“You seemed to like it last night,” Beca teased.

“You’re impossible,” Chloe grumbled with a Beca patented roll of her eyes.

“Yet you love me,” Beca smirked.

“Yes,” Chloe said, not able to keep a soft smile from showing. It passed quickly though as she refocused on what the infuriating brunette had just done. “What were you thinking, Beca?” Chloe demanded, as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Firing Theo? In front of everyone? And then just—what—nominating me to help run the tour?”

Standing near the suite’s desk, Beca gave a soft chuckle as she peeled off her jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. She turned to face Chloe, her smile warm, calm, and maddeningly unworried. “I was thinking,” Beca said, her eyes steady, “that there’s no one in the world I trust more than you.”

This caused Chloe to groan and roll her eyes. “Becs, come on. Be serious.”

“I am being serious,” Beca shot back, a smirk tugging at her lips; the kind that always made Chloe’s stomach flutter, no matter how frustrated she was.

“Becs…”

“Chlo,” Beca said gently, her tone full of that unmistakable warmth. “I trust you.”

This caused Chloe’s defenses to waver, at least slightly. She looked down, then back at Beca. “Trust is great, but this? Running a tour? I don’t know anything about that. What if I screw it up?”

“You won’t,” Beca said without hesitation. “Not a chance.”

Something in her voice, so calm, so sure, struck Chloe harder than any pep talk ever could. And just like that, her panic was replaced by a quiet flicker of belief… that maybe Beca was right. Maybe she could do this.

The petite brunette stepped closer, her voice steady as she said,  “And you’re not doing this alone. Lizzy’s going to be your guide. She already knows the ropes, and she’s incredible at what she does. You’ll learn from her, and knowing you, quite quickly. You’re already more organized than half the people on the crew. You care, Chloe. No one made you learn all that information about the people in the crew; it was just you being you. That’s what makes you the right person.”

Unable to remain still, Chloe began to pace back and forth, running her hands through her hair. “I’m just… I’m scared I might ruin it, Becs. This is your tour. Your dream. What if I get something wrong and everything falls apart?”

Beca stepped closer and gently took Chloe’s hands in hers. “Chlo, look at me,” she said softly. “You’re not going to ruin anything. You’ve never ruined anything. You’ve always been the one holding things together; whether it was the Bellas, our Brooklyn apartment, or me and my backstage nerves before a big performance.”

Chloe’s eyes shimmered with uncertainty, but she didn’t pull away.

“I’m not worried,” Beca continued, her thumbs brushing lightly over Chloe’s knuckles. “Not even a little. You want to know why? Because I know you. You show up. You learn fast. And you do it all with heart. That’s more than I could ever say about Theo.”

Chloe let out a shaky breath, still unsure, but deeply moved. “You really believe I can do this?”

“I know you can,” Beca said with a grin. “Besides, you think I’d let just anyone boss me around on tour?”

Chloe finally cracked a smile, the tension melting slightly from her shoulders. “Okay. But if I’m doing this, I want a title. Something fancy.”

Beca laughed and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Chloe’s forehead. “How about ‘Queen of Tour Logistics and Keeping Beca Mitchell from Imploding’?”

Chloe giggled. “That’ll do. For now.”

------------

From the moment Beca stepped onto the stage at the Beale Street Music Festival, the crowd felt it; that unmistakable spark that Chloe had always seen. The Mississippi River glistened behind her, the late spring air thick with anticipation. Floodlights bathed Tom Lee Park in a warm glow as cheers rose from a sea of fans. With a wave to the crowd, Beca made her way to her electric piano set up in the center of the stage. She nodded to Chloe and Lizzy in the wings, and the lights cutoff.

The moment the lights went dark, the stage pulsed with deep red hues. Seeing this, the crowd erupted in anticipation. A single spotlight swept across the stage and landed on Beca, poised behind her electric piano. With a subtle nod to her band, the opening notes thundered to life; bass pounding, drums sharp and deliberate, echoing like a war drum across the riverfront.

She leaned into the mic, her voice dark and sultry:

“I’ll be your light, your match, your burning sun…”

Each word rolled out with confidence, drawing cheers as the crowd recognized the anthem. Her fingers danced across the keys, layering a gritty pulse beneath the track, grounding it with her own flavor. James’s guitar snarled just beneath her vocals, while Eli’s drumming gave the beat a propulsive, almost tribal energy.

Behind her, AJ and the Beckettes—Skye, Minh, and Natasha—were already in motion. Clapping overhead in perfect rhythm, their cajoling brought the audience into the groove as thousands clapped in unison.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” AJ shouted between harmonies, hyping the crowd.

“I’ll be the bright, in black that’s makin’ you run…” 

Beca belted, stepping away from the piano and striding to the front of the stage, microphone in hand. 

“When I get loud, when I get loud!”

She punched the final lyric with a fist in the air, her voice cutting clean through the thick summer air.

By the time she hit the chorus—

“And I feel again… I feel it burnin’ in my veins…”

the crowd had completely given in. Thousands of hands clapped in unison, driven by the Beckettes’ rhythmic movements and radiant harmonies.

Then, the chant, led by the Beckettes,

“Till the love runs out, till the love runs out!”

The band exploded behind her, a wall of sound. Her eyes locked with Chloe’s, watching from the wings, and for a brief second, the world seemed to narrow to just that moment—electric, pulsing, hers.

Beca had opened her set not with subtlety, but with fire. And Memphis roared in approval.

------------

With each passing song, the energy of the show built. Backed by the tight rhythm of her band and the four powerhouse vocalists of the Beckettes, Beca delivered a unique sound, so different from what she had done in her short career.

From the wings, Chloe watched with a hand over her heart. Her girlfriend looked radiant beneath the stage lights, in full command of the moment. Lizzy stood beside her, headset in place, coordinating cues and stage timing—but even she couldn’t help being caught in the swell of Beca’s performance.

For Beca this show wasn’t just a stylistic shift; it was a tribute. Her set was honoring the legends who’d come before her on these very grounds—B.B. King, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Gary Clarke Jr.. With each bluesy piano solo and gospel-inspired vocal run, she reached back into Memphis’s soul and pulled it forward into the present.

In the wings, Chloe turned to Lizzy and said, “I’m so glad you suggested recording this concert. I think Beca’s going to be able to do really incredible things with this.”

“I wish it were my idea,” Lizzy said with a grin, “but that idea was all Jade.”

“Beca really lucked out and got an incredible team,” said Chloe.

They focused on the Beckettes; AJ, Skye, Minh, and Natasha were singing better than ever. The Beckettes were on fire, their harmonies tight, their choreography infectious. Every movement, every note, every beat felt alive with purpose.

Feeding off this, Beca fused her signature pop-rock sound with deep threads of rhythm and blues.

------------

The festival crowd stretched through the entire park to the river’s edge let out a powerful roar as Beca finished another song. The Memphis crowd were energized by the city’s pulse.

“Alright, Memphis!” Beca shouted, “Are we having fun!” It was hard to believe, but the crowd actually grew louder in their response. “Whoa—dudes! I’ll take that as a yes.” The crowd roared again.

“You know, when I learned I was going to have the honor of playing the Beale Street Music Festival, I knew I had to honor one of my music icons. Someone who had a proud legacy with this festival, but unfortunately recently was lost to us. I’m very honored to have permission to play the following by the legendary Aretha Franklin.”

Hearing the legendary singer’s name ratcheted up the decibel level of the crowd as the Beckettes began to sing,

“(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

Woah woah woah woah

(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

Woah woah woah woah”

Then Beca started singing simply with a few soulful notes and a stripped-down verse, her smoky voice capturing the pitch and tone of the famous R&B singer,

“People, let me tell you, I work hard every day

I get up out of bed, I put on my clothes

'Cause I've got bills to pay

Now it ain't easy but I don't need no help

I've got a strong will to survive

I've got a deeper love, deeper love

Deeper love inside and I call it”

Her fingers glided over the keys as Beca again looked towards the wing of the stage, to the spot she knew Chloe was standing, and just smiled at the redhead as she sang ‘I've got a deeper love’. 

“Now I've got love in my heart, it gives me the strength

To make it through the day

Pride and love (Pride is) oh, respect for yourself “

The crowd was truly loving Beca’s pop-soul version of Franklin’s song and made their feelings heard. The Beale Street’s legacy was echoed in every cheer. 

“And I wanna thank you for helping me see

There's a power that lives deep inside of me

Give me the strength (give me the strength)

To carry on (to carry on), always be strong

Whoa oh oh oh whoa”

Since she was a young child, Beca had always been known for her voice, and since middle school, she had gained a reputation for her mixes and deejaying, but most didn’t know how good Beca was at playing the piano. Her mother had introduced her to the piano at the age of three, and she had flourished at it. Ever since signing with DJ Khaled, Beca had rekindled her interest in the piano. It was so helpful in writing of songs, and had proved extraordinarily helpful performing on stage. Like now, her fingers moved gracefully across the keys, the melody simple but piercing in the background of the chorus,

“(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

(Woah woah woah woah)”

Picking up the bridge, Beca closed her eyes and poured her soul into the lyrics. She knows what Aretha was saying in the original, but she hoped a certain redhead knew these lyrics were for her.

”And I wanna thank you for helping me see

There's a power that lives deep inside of me

Give me the strength (give me the strength)

To carry on (to carry on), always be strong

Whoa oh oh oh whoa”

She poured her heart into the lyrics, and when she finally opened her eyes they were directed toward the wings, where Chloe mouthed the words along with her, and she knew that the redhead felt the same.

Now she and the four back up singers were playing off one another as they sang the chorus to end the song,

“(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

(Woah woah woah woah) Hey hay yeah

(It's the power that gives you) The strength to survive (Pride, pride)

(Pride) Ow ow ow ow (A deeper love)

(Woah woah woah woah) Woah

(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

(Pride) A deeper love

Woah woah woah woah

(It's the power that gives) You the strength to survive (Pride, pride)

(Pride) Ow ow ow ow ow ow (A deeper love)

(Woah woah woah woah) Oh”

She closed this set with a full-band finale, James and his mates truly getting to show their talent as Beca walked off stage with the Beckettes following. The five women waved and blew kisses as they departed. It left the audience roaring for more.

------------

Backstage, Beca barely stayed on her feet as Chloe collided with her in an exuberant, full-body hug that knocked the breath from her lungs.

“YOU WERE AMAZING!”

“Ugh—Chlo!” Beca groaned, squirming in the redhead’s arms. “I’m drenched in sweat right now!” she added with a grimace, though her tone held no real protest.

Stealing a quick chaste kiss, Chloe pulled back just enough to smirk while not letting go, her arms still wrapped tightly around Beca. “Please. Like I don’t love you sweaty,” she teased, punctuating the remark with a wicked little wink that made Beca’s stomach flip.

“Chlo…” Beca murmured, blushing a deep crimson as she shifted awkwardly. She was all too aware of the four backup singers standing nearby, watching with barely contained amusement.

“I mean, I like it much better when I’m the one making you sweaty,” Chloe added with another playful wink, her voice dripping with mischief.

This elicited a wave of snickering from the Beckettes who erupted into giggles and dramatic “ooohs,” their teasing echoing in the small space. Beca’s blush deepened instantly, her face now a full shade of mortified crimson.

“I seriously can’t wait to introduce them to the Bellas,” Chloe said, nodding toward the four backup singers as she reluctantly let go of Beca. The petite brunette froze for a beat as she accepted a towel from Lizzy without a word, her mind catching on Chloe’s comment. The Bellas. That name still carried weight for both women; memories of sisterhood, friendships, and music, but also teasing, craziness, and shenanigans.

“Why? Why would we want to do that?” Beca asked, wiping sweat from her brow, her tone sarcastic but laced with humor.

“Because they’d get along amazingly,” Chloe replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She handed Beca a bottle of water with a fond smile.

“Sounds like a recipe for chaos,” Beca muttered with a smirk as she took the water from Chloe and drank deeply. Capping the bottle, she turned her gaze toward the stage. The crowd could still be heard cheering and clapping, a quiet smile tugged at Beca’s lips. After a beat, she glanced back at Chloe and asked softly, “You ready for this?”

“Are you really sure about this?” Chloe asked, her voice dipping as a flicker of nerves returned to her eyes, chasing away the playful confidence from moments before.

“One hundred fucking percent,” Beca said emphatically as she reached for Chloe’s hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and said with quiet certainty, “I’ve never been more sure about anything. We’ve got this.”

“Let’s do this,” Chloe said, steeling her nerves.

------------

With the crowd still roaring, Beca stepped back onto the stage, her heart pounding. A warm breeze swept across the open venue, and the night sky sparkled overhead. The moment she appeared, the cheers swelled, louder, wilder. She flashed a grin, waved at the audience, and walked confidently into the spotlight for her encore.

She stepped up to the microphone in its stand and drew a steadying breath. With a quick nod to Dan and Jade at the soundboard, she signaled she was ready. The familiar hum of the stage settled her nerves, and as she focused on the music ahead, the ever-present jitters melted away, replaced by the calm, electric clarity that always came just before she sang.

She hums into the microphone, as her right foot presses a pedal on a small boxy device sitting at her feet. She hits a second pedal and the sound she recorded plays out over the audience. She then hums again, a slightly different melody, again working the pedals. 

“Mm, mm, mmm”

She continues to build layers of music, and soon she has a whole chorus of melodies based on her humming, playing out in the background. 

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh-Mmm”

The symphony of music she’s creating with just recordings of her voice has become a signature move of hers. Similar to what she did the first time she opened for DJ Khaled, the sound is like a gossamer veil of sound she is able to weave over the crowd, and it’s spell binding.

She breathes out, humming one last time,

“Mm, mm—Ooh, ooh, ooh”

As she starts singing, immediately feeling a calm settle over her, as her clear alto flows effortlessly along one of her most treasured melodies.

“I got my ticket for the long way ‘round,”

This song had become such an important part of her life, Beca had been determined to make it part of the encore’s set. Off to the side, Chloe walked onto stage, carrying her microphone, she sang the next lyrics of the song.

“Two bottle ‘a whiskey for the way,”

“Memphis, please welcome my girlfriend, Chloe Beale,” said Beca into the microphone, as she pulled it off the stand. She turned to Chloe as the redhead walked into the spotlight. Facing each other the two began to sing together,

“And I sure would like some sweet company
And I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?“

Just like that first time in the showers so long ago, their voices blended perfectly. They sang with a natural resonance and vibrato, their pitch perfect together, as they gave the song a very bluegrass sound.

“When I’m gone

When I’m gone

You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone

You’re gonna miss me by my hair

You’re gonna miss me everywhere, oh”

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone” 

For Chloe it definitely helps that the festival crowd seems completely enthralled by their performance. Glancing towards Beca, she sees a smug ‘I told you so’ look in her midnight blue eyes. The redhead can only shake her head as they continue singing.

“I’ve got my ticket for the long way ‘round
The one with the prettiest of views
It’s got mountains, it’s got rivers, it’s got sights to give you shivers
But it sure would be prettier with you”

Chloe feels herself relaxing with each word, and each line coming easier, but then singing with Beca has always been easy. The two moved in perfect sync, locked into that effortless rhythm only years of friendship and countless shared performances could create.

“When I’m gone
When I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me by my walk
You’re gonna miss me by my talk, oh
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone”

The crowd isn’t sure what to make of this song. It’s not what they were expecting, but it’s so really good and the two women are amazing.

Beca and Chloe don’t care, they’re just singing to each other.

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me by my walk
You’re gonna miss me by my talk, oh
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone”

Without missing a beat the two transitioned into a song that might mean more than Cups.

“You shout it out

But I can't hear a word you say

I'm talking loud not saying much

I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet

You shoot me down, but I get up”

The crowd felt it, the raw passion between them. Every lyric, every glance carried weight. They weren’t just singing; they were singing to each other, radiating undeniable love.

“Cut me down

But it's you who has further to fall

Ghost town, haunted love

Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones

I'm talking loud not saying much”

Under a sky full of stars, Chloe and Beca sang to each other, their voices blending beautifully. Thousands watched, utterly captivated, as if witnessing something intimate yet universally enchanting.

”I'm bulletproof nothing to lose

Fire away, fire away

Ricochet, you take your aim

Fire away, fire away

You shoot me down but I won't fall

I am titanium

You shoot me down but I won't fall

I am titanium, I am titanium”

The two women sing so perfectly together. Their voices bringing out the best in the other’s.

“You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium”

Their harmonies soared, weaving effortlessly between playful flirtation and heartfelt confession. Every note deepened the connection, and the audience felt like lucky witnesses to something real and rare.

“Stone-hard, machine gun

Firing at the ones who run 

Stone-hard, thus bulletproof glass”

The two women sing so perfectly together. Their voices bringing out the best in the other’s.

“You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium 

I am titanium”

As the final chords of ‘Titanium’ echoed, Beca and Chloe locked eyes, their voices rising in perfect unison; powerful, defiant, and unmistakably intertwined, leaving the crowd breathless.

The couple had one more song left in the encore; a brand-new addition to Beca’s catalog. She began the opening verse, her gaze fixed solely on Chloe, every word meant just for her.

“My love

There's only you in my life

The only thing that's right”

Stepping forward, Chloe seamlessly taking up the next lyrics, her voice warm and steady. She sang directly to Beca, her eyes shining, each word carrying affection and quiet intensity.

“My first love

You're every breath that I take

You're every step I make.”

Together, the couple’s voices intertwined effortlessly, weaving a rich harmony that filled the night air. Their connection was palpable, every note a testament to their bond and shared history.

“And I (I), I want to share all my love with you

No one else will do

And your eyes (Your eyes, your eyes) they tell me how much you care

Oh, yes, you will always be my endless love”

Their eyes rarely strayed from one another, each lyric exchanged like a secret meant just between them. The music became their language, raw, intimate, and electric. 

“Two hearts

Two hearts that beat as one

Our lives have just begun”

Every note felt like a conversation between their hearts, radiating joy, connection, and a love the entire audience could feel.

“Forever (Oh, oh-oh-ooh)

I'll hold you close in my arms

I can't resist your charms”

Taking the lead, Chloe sang a tender line, her voice soft but clear, eyes locked on Beca. Without missing a beat, Beca answered with her own lyric, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

“And love (Oh, love)

I'll be a fool for you, I'm sure

You know I don't mind (Oh, you know I don't mind)

'Cause you, you mean the world to me, oh”

Beca stepped forward, confidently taking the lead, her voice rich and commanding. Then Chloe joined in, their voices merging seamlessly, creating a soaring harmony that electrified the entire crowd.

“And, yes, You’ll be the only one

'Cause no one can deny

This love I have inside

And I'll give it all to you“

They finished the song in a powerful crescendo, voices united, leaving the crowd roaring with admiration and thunderous applause.

“My love (My love, my love)

My endless love”

Overwhelmed by the moment, Beca cupped Chloe’s face and pulled her close, pressing their lips together in a kiss that carried every emotion she’d poured into the song. Surprise flickered across Chloe’s face for only a heartbeat before she melted into the kiss, returning it with equal passion. The crowd’s cheers blurred around them, but neither woman noticed, lost entirely in each other, their love laid bare for the world to see under the stage lights.

A few gasps of surprise rippled through the crowd, but most weren’t shocked; the performance had already made the love of these two remarkable women unmistakably clear. As the final note faded, the audience erupted in thunderous applause and wild cheers, a roaring wave of approval for both the music and the moment. The connection between Beca and Chloe wasn’t just seen, it had been felt, reverberating through every heart in the crowd.

“So much for keeping things low key,” Chloe whispered, her lips curving into a radiant, contented smile.

Beca smirked, her eyes still locked on Chloe’s. “Yeah, well… if people don’t like it, screw ’em,” she shot back, unapologetic.

Without waiting for a reply, Beca leaned in and stole one more quick, impulsive kiss; just because she could.

Still hand in hand, the two women turned to face the roaring crowd, their smiles wide and unguarded. Together, they basked in the adoration washing over them, soaking in the electric joy of the moment. With a playful flourish, they took a few bows, savoring every cheer and applause that echoed back.

Waving to the crowd as they exited, Beca and Chloe barely made it backstage before being swarmed by Lizzy and the Beckettes, all cheering and giddy with excitement. Since the encore had been a stripped-down a cappella performance, the stage had been theirs alone; making the moment even more intimate and unforgettable.

“You were AMAZING!” Skye gushed, practically bouncing with excitement.

“That was INCREDIBLE!” Lizzy added, her voice loud over the lingering backstage buzz.

“I can’t wait to see what the rest of the tour’s like,” AJ grinned.

“Me too,” Beca said, her smile softening as she looked at Chloe.

“Me three,” Chloe smirked, her eyes sparkling.

“So… we’re really doing this?” Beca asked, her voice tinged with hope.

“We’re doing this,” Chloe replied confidently. “Together.”

“Together,” they echoed softly, their eyes locked, hearts completely in sync.

------------

Up Next an Epilogue…

Chapter Text

Cross Me

---

Chapter 11: 

Epilogue 

------------

Three years. 

It was hard to believe it had been that long since Beca Mitchell first stood on that Beale Street Music Festival main stage, staring out at a sea of faces as the Mississippi River glimmered under the festival lights. 

Three years. So much had changed. She was no longer the girl trying to prove herself in front of a festival crowd. She’d done that. She’d headlined tours, won awards, had songs chart on Billboard, and yet here, in Memphis, on the banks of the river steeped in musical history, she felt the same pulse of excitement she had that very first night.

That first night had crackled with an undeniable energy; part victory, part proving ground. For the encore, Beca and Chloe had shared the stage in their first-ever duet since Beca had signed with DJ Khaled.

Their chemistry had always been undeniable and together they had electrified the crowd. The performance had come on the heels of Beca breaking free from Theo’s manipulations. Manipulations that had become all too apparent when Chloe had joined the tour. Standing up to Theo had allowed Beca to reclaim control of her career. She’d persuaded DJ Khaled to trust her instincts and officially bring Chloe onto the tour’s management team. It had been a gamble, mixing personal and professional ties on such a high-profile stage, but the risk had paid off, transforming not just the tour, but her relationship with the redhead, into something stronger and more enduring.

Now, standing backstage as the Memphis sunset painted the sky in gold and crimson, Beca smiled to herself. She’d once been the opening night’s headliner; tonight, she was closing the entire festival. The final act. The one everyone stayed for. It wasn’t just a milestone; it was proof of how far she’d come. 

She was back for the fourth year in a row, having turned the festival into a personal tradition. The memories of her first time here, three years ago, still made this stage feel special—like the place where everything had shifted. Now, Beca stood just offstage, watching the act before her. The performer was a teenager known as Jynx, real name James Carter, another promising talent discovered by DJ Khaled. Having always wanted to be on the control panel side of the recording booth, Beca had jumped at the chance to help the young singer produce his EP. It had helped reinforce the idea Beca had. 

There was something undeniably thrilling about watching a gifted artist bring to life songs she had helped create. Seeing Jynx perform was especially satisfying; knowing her fingerprints were on some of the tracks made his electric presence even more rewarding to witness. Despite his youth, he commanded the stage with confidence, his sharp, soulful voice hinting at a future that stretched far beyond these festival grounds. 

It felt fitting, almost poetic, that Khaled’s newest protégé was paving the way for one of his established stars to finish the festival. There was a rhythm to it, a quiet passing of the torch. Yet for Beca, this night carried an even deeper significance. She could feel it in her soul. Once her set was over, the path ahead would look completely different…

Both for her career… and for her life.

Speaking of, Beca could hear her partner managing the organized chaos of the backstage area. The space hummed with the electric pulse of last minute presentations. Stagehands darted between crates, securing anything that didn’t belong. Sound techs barked last-minute tweaks, syncing up with the lighting crew to perfect every cue. Musicians tuned their instruments with a focused intensity, each lost in their own ritual. At the center of it all stood Chloe, headset on, fielding updates and firing off answers with practiced precision. The redhead looked every bit the part of the confident, self-assured tour manager in her tailored black jacket and fitted jeans, though Beca could see the glimmer of pride beneath the surface.

As the tour manager, Chloe was the calm in the eye of the storm, seamlessly juggling questions, confirmations, and the timing of the prep schedule. Her presence anchored the flurry of motion around her, ensuring that when the curtain finally rose, everything would be exactly right.

Chloe catches Beca watching her and flashes her a bright smile and mouths, “Twenty minutes.” Then blew a kiss.

Beca grinned and returned the kiss. She then exhaled deeply, steadying herself. She wasn’t nervous, not exactly. It was more a swirl of anticipation, a sense of occasion. Watching Chloe manage everything actually helped settle any nerves Beca might have.

The petite brunette had really grown into her role as a music star, but her growth was nothing compared to the redhead’s maturation as a manager. Chloe was now fully in control of Beca’s tour. Her management skills were unparalleled, and she had even been offered opportunities to manage other tours; though she turned them all down. She was only interested in managing one particular artist’s tour.

“Okay people,” Chloe called out in a voice that carried authority born of three years working with most of these people. “James is finishing his set. This is his last song for the night. When he’s done, we have twenty minutes to get his gear taken down, and Beca’s up. Make me proud.”

She turned and stopped in her tracks, about twenty feet away she saw Fat Amy holding a press interview. There was an interviewer and a camera person focused on the now much more svelte Amy. Taking a deep breath, Chloe counted to ten as she pinched the bridge of her nose and then whispered, “Lily.”

Almost instantly the silent young woman was at the redhead’s side. “Could you find out what is going on there?”

With a quick nod Lily moved towards whatever Amy was doing.

Confident that Lily would handle the Amy situation, Chloe turned just as the Beckettes stepped out of their green room, a shimmering burst of sequins and swagger. Each one was dressed in their dazzling stage outfits, harmonizing through vocal warm-ups with the kind of ease only years of camaraderie could create. Their laughter blended effortlessly with the scales, a testament to both their talent and their bond.

“Oh my goodness, you guys!” Chloe exclaimed, clapping her hands. “You all look AMAZING!”

The Beckettes grinned and struck playful poses like a synchronized girl group moment straight off a magazine cover. Skye, AJ, Minh, and Natasha, Beca’s ride-or-die backup singers, were as tight-knit as ever, their years together reflected in every inside joke and shared grin.

“Gotta shine for the big finale!” AJ said with a wink.

“Only the best for Beca,” Skye added proudly, her arm thrown around Minh, who nodded with bright enthusiasm.

“We’re going to absolutely kill it tonight!” Natasha declared, her energy infectious.

“I have no doubt,” Chloe replied warmly. But her voice wavered just slightly, her smile softening. “I’m really going to miss you guys.” Her bright blue eyes shimmered with unspoken emotion.

“Awww—don’t worry, Red,” AJ said, immediately pulling her into a fierce hug. “You’re not getting rid of Skye and me that easily, and who knows, when Minh is done with her pilgrimage to Nepal...”

With a nod of her head, Minh gave a thumbs up and huge smile.

Natasha joined in next, wrapping Chloe in a tight squeeze. “And I’ll definitely be back. Maybe not for touring…” she paused, her hand resting gently on the small swell of her stomach, “but I’m betting Bee’s still going to need backup vocals in the studio.”

Being reminded of the good news, Chloe let out a delighted laugh and hugged her again, eyes wide with joy. “I’m so happy for you and James! That little one’s going to have the coolest mom.”

“You got that right!” Natasha declared as she gave Chloe a fist bump.

“Now, I think I see some Bellas are in the house, where is that lush flyer, CR?” AJ asked, as she scanned the backstage.

“I think your lady luv is that way,” Skye said as she gestured towards where Cynthia Rose was talking with Emily, Ashley and Jessica.

“Oh yeah! My baby’s looking fit,” declared AJ as she made her way over to CR. The two had been introduced by Chloe, and hit it off immediately. Travel had kept the two from becoming anything official, but both were hoping to take it in that direction as they both were going to be living in the LA area really soon.

Chloe smiled warmly as she watched AJ and CR embrace, their reunion a small, tender moment amid the backstage buzz. She gave herself a heartbeat to enjoy it before shifting back into work mode. Turning to Skye and Minh, she spoke with calm authority, “Just make sure our lovebird’s on her mark when the lights go up.”

“You got it, boss,” Skye replied with a grin, giving a crisp two-finger salute that Minh echoed in sync.

Chloe spun on her heel and called out to the crew, her voice ringing clear above the commotion. “James is wrapped. We’ve got twenty minutes, people! You know what to do—move, move, move!”

The energy shifted instantly as the team kicked into high gear.

Nearby, Stacie stepped beside Aubrey, who stood quietly, watching Chloe command the scene with effortless control. Stacie leaned in, resting her chin lightly on the blonde’s shoulder, and whispered, “You’re so proud of her, aren’t you?”

Not taking her eyes off her longtime friend, Aubrey’s voice was soft with emotion. “So proud,” she said, blinking against the sting in her eyes. “So incredibly proud.”

Stacie smiled, then gestured to the bustling activity. “And you kind of wish you were running the show too, huh?”

Aubrey let out a quiet, wistful laugh. “So much,” she admitted. “So very much.”

The two women turned and strolled a few steps toward the Bellas—those wonderfully chaotic, fiercely loyal women who still felt like family to Beca and Chloe. As expected, Aubrey had taken charge, keeping the group neatly tucked out of the crew’s path but perfectly positioned to burst into cheers the moment Beca hit the stage. Nearby, Flo animatedly described her latest smoothie truck expansion to Ashley, while Jessica chimed in about the new bakery she and Ashley had recently opened together, her voice full of pride and excitement.

Off to the side, Emily and Natasha were deep in conversation, swapping songwriting tips and ideas. With maternity leave approaching, Natasha was considering shifting her focus toward writing—and Emily, ever the eager collaborator, was more than happy to brainstorm melodies and lyrics with her. 

Nearby, Cynthia-Rose had one arm slung around AJ’s waist while she enthusiastically challenged Skye to a vocal riff-off later that night at the karaoke bar where everyone planned to celebrate. 

Crossing her arms, Cynthia-Rose grinned. “We’ll just settle it with a sing-off after the show. Old school.”

“Count me in,” Skye added. “But I warn you, we’ve been tight lately.”

“Hey, Cous,” Stacie called out with a teasing smirk as she approached Skye.

“Cousin!” Skye squealed, throwing her arms around the tall brunette in an enthusiastic hug. Their resemblance was uncanny; same dazzling smile, same gorgeous eyes and confident posture. More than once, they’d been mistaken for sisters.

“I still can’t believe you’re related to one of Beca’s backup singers,” Aubrey said, shaking her head with a chuckle.

“Believe me, I was just as shocked,” Stacie replied. “I called my mom thinking it had to be a mistake, but nope, I had a second cousin named Skye. All legit.”

“It was serendipity!” Skye declared, striking an over-the-top, mock-heroic pose.

The two groups burst into laughter, the easy kind that came with old friends and new family.

It had been nearly three years since the Beckettes first met the Bellas, and Chloe had called it from the start.

“You’ll see,” she had told Beca. “They’ll get along like sisters.”

And she’d been absolutely right. From that very first backstage meet-up in Portland during the ‘Long Way Round tour’, the connection was instant; they were all artists, pranksters, harmonizers, and true friends all cut from the same cloth. In the time since, the bond had only deepened over the last couple years.

Having given the word to go, Chloe made her way over to where the Bellas and the Beckettes were congregating. She trusted her team to do their jobs. And if anyone had a question or an issue, she still had her headset. 

As Chloe made her way across the bustling backstage area, Lily quickly fell into step beside her and leaned in to whisper something. It was barely audible over the clatter and chatter around them, but Chloe caught just enough to freeze mid-stride.

“A documentary?” she repeated, incredulous.

Nodding, Lily glared in the general direction of the Aussie.

Turning toward the source of the usual source of chaos, Amy, Chloe sighed. Standing proudly in the middle of it all, the Aussie beamed like a woman who’d just invented the spotlight. Next to her stood a cameraman and a young woman with a microphone, both of whom at least had the decency to look mildly sheepish.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Chloe raised her voice slightly. “A documentary, Amy?”

“Seriously?” Aubrey asked bewilderedly.

“Obviously!” Amy said with a dramatic flourish. “The world is desperate for more Amy Hobart, and I, the generous soul that I am, have made the selfless sacrifice to give it to them.”

“Amy,” Chloe groaned, exasperated. “You can’t just film backstage without…”

“‘Course we can, Ginge!” Amy interrupted, gesturing proudly at the cameraman. “Daryl here’s brilliant; he always catches my best angles.” She struck a series of exaggerated poses, showing off her recently trimmed figure with a wink and a flourish.

“Amy,” Chloe tried again, her tone more strained. “That’s not how this works…”

“You need signed release forms from every person who might appear on camera,” a firm, familiar voice cut in. “Plus written permission from the festival organizers and ‘We the Best Music Group’; which I happen to know for a fact you don’t have.”

Hearing this unexpected voice, Chloe turned, eyes lighting up as she spotted the speaker.

“LIZZY!” she cried, breaking into a wide smile.

The former PA, Lizzy, stood just a few feet away, tablet in hand, more stylish eyeglasses in place, same tight no-nonsense hairstyle. Her expression was warm and slightly shy, like she felt a bit like an intruder. Not countenancing this for a second, Chloe practically launched herself into a hug.

“I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Lizzy replied, hugging her back tightly.

Meanwhile, Amy’s bravado visibly deflated as Lizzy’s words sunk in. Her face paled at what they meant. “Oy, that sounds way too much like paperwork,” she muttered, grimacing. Then, with a wave of her hand, she turned to her crew. “Daryl, Cammy! You’re off the hook. Take the night off.”

The cameraman and interviewer didn’t hesitate. With matching smiles, they disappeared before their mercurial boss could reconsider.

Seeing this, Chloe let out a breath of relief, but it was quickly replaced with pure delight as her eyes settled back on Lizzy. The redhead’s face lit up, literally glowing with joy at the surprise appearance.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked, wrapping her arm around Lizzy again.

“I’m here with Khaled,” Lizzy said, motioning toward the far side of the room. The famed producer had just entered the backstage area, flanked by his entourage and radiating his usual larger-than-life presence. “You didn’t think he’d miss tonight, did you?”

Seeing this, Chloe’s heart swelled with pride. “Thank you. Seriously, that means so much! It’s a huge night for Beca.”

“It’s a huge night for both of you,” AJ said as she

Skye slid in with a grin, giving Lizzy a quick hug of her own. “So you’re just here with Khaled?” she teased.

“Well,” Lizzy replied, blushing slightly, “I’m also officially joining Jynx’s tour as it transitions into headliner territory.”

Chloe’s eyebrows lifted. “What about Tina?”

“She’s staying on as tour manager,” Lizzy said quickly, anticipating the concern. “Khaled was really happy with how the two of us worked together. He asked me to stay on in more of a mentoring role—help her navigate the step up to being the main act.”

Chloe beamed. “If you give her even half the support you gave me, she’s going to crush it. Tina’s lucky to have you.”

Lizzy smiled, touched. “That means the world, Chloe.”

“Oh sweet goddess, who let the Bellas and Beckettes mingle again?”

All heads turned at the familiar voice, to find Beca standing just a few feet away, smirking in that effortlessly cool way only she could pull off.

In a heartbeat, the Bellas erupted into squeals and rushed toward her with a tidal wave of excited energy. With a faux look of grimace, Beca braced herself, letting out a resigned laugh just before they engulfed her in a group hug.

“Okay—okay, dudes,” she gasped, arms pinned to her sides. “Get off me, you weirdos.”

The Bellas, fully aware of their former captain’s aversion to prolonged contact, gave one last squeeze, before reluctantly loosening their embrace; everyone except Chloe, who kept her arms wrapped firmly around Beca’s waist.

“She secretly loves hugs,” Chloe teased, her tone playful as she tightened her hold just a little.

“I love your hugs,” Beca corrected with a soft smile before planting a quick kiss on Chloe’s lips.

“Good answer,” Chloe grinned, clearly pleased.

Before Beca could reply, Fat Amy bellowed from the gathering of Bellas, “Is there going to be a secret surprise tonight or what? Because I’m ready to storm the stage if you need backup.”

The Beckettes and Bellas chuckled, as Chloe gave a questioning look and Beca shook her head as she called back, “You trying to steal my thunder, Amy?”

“I’m trying to enhance your thunder,” Amy shot back. “Two thunders make a lightning.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works,” murmured Stacie in a deadpan voice to Aubrey, who was shaking her head in bewilderment.

The two combined groups of women burst into laughter, the moment unmistakably them; pure chaotic energy, and love.

With a shake of her head, Beca said with a smile, “God, I missed this chaos.”

“You live for it,” Chloe teased, then added gently, “As much as I’m loving this, and I am, but Beca and the Beckettes need to head out.”

Groans rippled through the Bellas.

“Relax, drama queens,” Beca teased. “I’ll see you at the after-party.” This brought a round of happy cheers and smiles. With a final grin, she turned to her crew. “Let’s give ‘em everything we’ve got.”

“Let’s make it legendary,” said AJ as she cracked her knuckles.

“Hell yeah,” Skye cheered.

“Always,” echoed Natasha.

As they headed out, Chloe nodded to Lily to usher the Bellas to their viewing spot she had, then quietly followed toward her place in the wings. Beca paused just before the stage, heart pounding, cloaked in shadows. The crowd’s chanting grew louder, buzzing with excitement. They knew who was coming.

Chloe slipped her hand into Beca’s. “You ready?”

“Always.”

They shared a quiet kiss, soft, private, grounding. A quiet moment that was just theirs. 

The lights dropped. 

The crowd roared.

The music started. 

The crowd grew louder.

Beca hit the stage with practiced confidence as the music swelled. The Beckettes fell in behind her, each taking their place with familiar ease.

The crowd erupted.

The light show started up and Beca moved to the middle of the stage with a smooth grace that had only improved over the last three years of performances.

“WHAT’S UP MEMPHIS!?!”

------------

“Baby, all I wanna do is coast (coast)

With you (with you)

Energy, the body flows”

Despite having been dancing and singing for nearly two hours, Beca was still going strong. Her energy hadn’t dipped for a second—each note crisp, every movement precise. Fueled by the roar of the crowd and sheer passion, she radiated stamina and star power, thriving under the spotlight with magnetic intensity.

“We could cruise if the mood's right

Catch a wave in the moonlight”

From just offstage in the wings, Chloe watched Beca command the spotlight with effortless brilliance. Even after all this time, she was still in awe. The way Beca moved—graceful, confident, electric—held the crowd in the palm of her hand. Chloe’s heart swelled with pride and love as she watched her girlfriend sing, dance, and light up the stage. This wasn’t just a performance; it was Beca in her element, and Chloe adored every second.

“Baby, all I wanna do is coast (coast)

With you (with you)

Frequency of all we know”

Down in the VIP section, Emily was in tears, crying with joy as she watched her good friend and idol performing her song. 

“Your song is amazing,” whispered Jessica.

“Thanks,” answered Emily.

“Yeah Ems,” agreed Stacie. “Great job.”

“'Cause nothing feels as real when we're connected (coast)

Relax and let the riptide pull you close

(Ah-ah-ah-ah)”

The roar of the crowd was deafening, their energy almost tangible, rushing the stage like a wave of heat and joy.

From the wings, Chloe stood with Lizzy, and Aubrey and Stacie. They had asked to return to the stage to watch with Chloe. The blonde had her hands clasped over her chest, a proud look on her face.

“She’s even better than last time,” Aubrey whispered to Chloe.

Chloe didn’t take her eyes off Beca, her heart full. “She always is.”

“We could cruise if the mood's right

Catch a wave in the moonlight

Baby, all I wanna do is coast (coast)

With you (with you)

Frequency of all we know”

The Beckettes brought their harmonies like silk and fire, their voices elevating the songs as they swayed and danced with ease. The band was tight, polished from months of touring. Beca moved effortlessly across the stage, playing the crowd like an instrument, her voice raw, rich, and free.

“Baby, all I wanna do is coast (coast)

With you (with you)

Frequency of all we know”

As the final chord rang out, Beca held the last note just a beat longer, savoring the electricity pulsing through the crowd. The audience erupted in thunderous applause, their cheers echoing across the festival grounds. The crowd’s noise was the kind that vibrated in Beca’s chest and echoed in her bones, which led to a high unlike any other.

Breathless and beaming, she stepped back from the mic as the lights faded to a cool, atmospheric blue, letting the continuous noise of the audience wash over her. Breathing hard but grinning wide, she caught her breath, and after a moment’s pause, she stepped back to the mic-stand at center stage, eyes gleaming.

“Alright, Memphis,” she called out, her voice ringing with joy. “Make some noise for the man who gave me my first shot—my boss, my mentor… DJ Khaled!”

The crowd went wild as Khaled made his entrance, larger than life. He threw his arms wide, soaking in the roar. “Memphis! Are y’all ready for another one?” he shouted, working to keep the crowd in an excited frenzy.

”Put your hands UP!” he bellowed. “Do you feel the love?” The crowd answered with a resounding ‘YES!’ 

“I feel the love!” He pounded his fist over his chest. “You feel the love!” The crowd screamed louder in response. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” The roar of the audience confirmed it, and Khaled soaked it in with a huge grin.

Then he turned to Beca, his expression warm and proud. “Correction, my brilliant beautiful Beca. I’m not your boss anymore.”

Feigning surprise, Beca blinked, as the crowd quieted in anticipation. She tilted her head in playful confusion. “No?”

“As of today,” Khaled said, raising her hand in his, “I’m the proud minority, silent partner in Ti-22 Studios. The boss…” he gestured toward her, “…is standing right here.” It took the crowd a second to respond, but quickly the words sunk in.

“That’s right! Beca Mitchell is the boss now!”

The crowd erupted, louder than ever. Backstage, phones buzzed as press releases and social media posts went live. Beca laughed, it was official, announced publicly; her dream of owning her own label had just become reality.

After a couple moments just enjoying the adulation  DJ Khaled shot Beca a knowing wink, then turned back to face the roaring Memphis crowd. “Y’all still feeling the love out there Memphis?” he shouted, arms wide. The crowd screamed back in the affirmative, and Khaled laughed, nodding. “I said it before, but I’ll say it again, I feel the love up here. And part of that love, that magic you’re all vibin’ with? That’s coming from two very special women.”

He turned toward the wings. “Chloe! Come on out here, girl!”

Caught unaware, Chloe froze just offstage, eyes wide. That hadn’t been part of the plan. She glanced at Lizzy, who just grinned, relieved her of her headset, and gave her a gentle push. “Go. This one’s for you.”

The crowd erupted with curiosity and cheers as Chloe stepped hesitantly onto the stage. Khaled hyped the crowd. “Give it up for Chloe Beale, everybody! Beca’s not just a superstar because of her obvious talent.” He pointed at the redhead and said, “This woman’s part of her heart, her strength, her fire!”

Beca stepped forward, grinning as she reached for Chloe’s hand, pulling her gently toward the mic. “Yeah, Memphis, let her feel it!”

The cheers doubled, and Chloe blushed, caught between surprise and adoration. Standing beside Beca at the mic, she barely had time to breathe before Beca addressed the crowd, “You all might remember me serving as a judge on ‘The Voice’.” The crowd roared again. “If you do, you might remember I had the distinct privilege to be a judge with John Legend.” The audience made itself heard louder. “I asked him a favor recently, and he graciously agreed.” Beca then leaned in and softly said, “This one’s for you.”

The band picked up a slow, soulful tune as Beca began to sing; her voice lower, more intimate than before. 

“What would I do without your smart mouth?

Drawing me in, and you kicking me out

You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down”

As the first familiar notes drifted through the speakers, the crowd began to cheer, recognizing the song instantly. Chloe’s eyes widened, her lips parting in awe as Beca sang directly to her. Emotion swelled in her chest; equal parts disbelief, love, and pride. 

“What's going on in that beautiful mind?

I'm on your magical mystery ride

And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright”

The redhead brought a hand to her heart, blinking back tears, then laughed softly, shaking her head as if she still couldn’t believe this was real. At that moment the world felt beautifully still.

“My head's under water

But I'm breathing fine

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

'Cause all of me

Loves all of you”

With the crowd still cheering, Beca gently removed the microphone from its stand, never breaking eye contact with Chloe. Her voice remained steady, tender, as she stepped closer and took Chloe’s hand in hers. The gesture was soft but certain, filled with intention. Chloe’s breath hitched, her fingers instinctively curling around Beca’s. The lights, the crowd, the music all faded. In that moment, it was just the two of them, bound by melody and love.

“Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I'm winning

'Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh-oh”

Beca’s voice wrapped around each lyric of the John Legend song with soulful clarity, her eyes locked on Chloe’s. Every note was a confession, every word a vow. She sang with raw emotion, her thumb gently brushing Chloe’s hand, pouring her heart into the melody for the woman she loved.

“'Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I'm winning

'Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you

I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh-oh”

As the final note faded, Beca held Chloe’s gaze, then in one fluid, practiced motion, dropped to one knee. Gasps echoed through the crowd as she pulled a small velvet box from her pocket and opened it, revealing a shimmering ring. Chloe’s hands flew to her mouth, stifling a squeal as her eyes filled with tears.

“Marry me.”

“Yes!”

The crowd exploded in deafening cheers, but somehow the Bellas’ excited voices still cut through the roar—cheering, laughing, even crying. And then, as if the moment couldn’t get more perfect, Beca and Chloe sealed their engagement with a deep, joy-filled kiss that sent the crowd into an even louder frenzy.

“I love you Beca.”

“I love you too, Chloe.”

------------

**THE END.**