Chapter Text
Beca Mitchell - junior producer at Residual Heat Music Group in Atlanta - sat morosely at her desk. She leaned her chair back, flopping her head back on the headrest, and stared out the window. The darker feelings had overtaken her for several weeks now. She always tilted to the melancholy side, but this was something deeper. This was the dense fog of doubt and despair brought on by too many hours dwelling in deep introspection and being unsure if you liked what you found. Beca found herself in that mental morass now. Frankly, she was tired of it. She wasn’t exactly sure that she knew how to shake it. She had an idea of where she could start, but it was terrifying in and of itself.
Knock knock knock.
Beca slowly swiveled her chair towards the door of her tiny office. Standing at the door was the only source of light in Beca’s world over the last month. Chloe Beale. Beca’s assistant. Well, Beca’s and several other junior producers’ assistant. But Beca tended to think of Chloe as hers. Not HERS hers … Chloe may do work for the other JuPros (what a stupid name - fucking Bumper), but she didn’t interact with them like she interacted with Beca. Chloe let the others come to her to seek out help; she sought Beca out even when there was no work to be done. She genuinely liked the grumpy little woman. At first, her sunny disposition and relentlessly cheerful outlook made Beca think Chloe was a bubble-headed ninny. Beca kind of had a “keep your head down, do your work, go home” kind of approach to life in the office. Chloe had tons of annoying habits of, like, say, asking Beca to go to lunch, or inviting Beca to hang out after work or on the weekends, or hugging Beca when she was trying to be a human cactus. Annoying shit like that.
The grin that was lighting up the redhead’s face dropped when she saw Beca slumped in the chair with a cartoon rain cloud over her head. “What’s the matter, Becs?” (Another annoying habit: calling Beca “Becs” - something only her mother had ever gotten away with.) Chloe covered the short distance from the door to Beca’s chair and squatted down, putting her hand lightly on Beca’s shoulder. “Did something new happen? Or is this more of what’s been going on?”
Beca’s eyes started leaking at Chloe’s genuine earnest concern. Tears were much more frequent lately than in years past. Still, Beca was moved at how caring her friend … uh …. assistant was. Through the last month or so, Beca could always count on Chloe’s sweet nature. It was probably one of the reasons she hadn’t fully cracked yet. Ironically, it was probably also one of the reasons she was in this mess in the first place. Beca looked into the shockingly blue eyes in front of her. She attempted a small smile and whispered, “More of the same.”
Chloe frowned and rubbed Beca’s back. She had learned by now that her friend didn’t always handle the redhead’s affinity for physical closeness and interaction. Beca tolerated it, sometimes seemed to enjoy it, possibly even occasionally craved it. But Chloe never wanted to push her luck. She stood up and walked the few steps over to an armchair situated across the desk from the brunette. She sat and leaned forward, clasping her hands and studying the face across from her. It pained Chloe so much to see the pain on that exquisite face. She didn’t know exactly what Beca was wrestling with, but she knew it was big and tough and beating the hell out of her friend. Chloe would take the burden if she could. She wished she could do more. She knew that Beca trusted her and turned to her more than anyone else in the building. She had heard that much in the break room or in whispered conversations. Sometimes it was someone like Cynthia Rose - another junior producer - expressing amazement at how Beca had lowered her walls for Chloe, thankful that Beca had finally let SOMEBODY in. Other times it was a sleaze ball like Bumper stating that Beca was “warm for Chloe’s form” and asking for an invite to when the women finally got it on. Even with their obvious and surprising friendship, Beca still had things she wouldn’t open up to Chloe about. This giant burden was one of them.
“I wish I could help,” Chloe said in a soft voice. There was no judgment in it - just a genuine longing to do … SOMEthing.
“I know,” Beca replied. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, wrestling with whether or not she should say anything else. She wanted to tell Chloe everything … to unburden herself. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what would happen, how Chloe would respond. She had so few people in her life who actually cared about HER that she couldn’t risk causing one to run away - especially Chloe. But she also knew that Chloe cared SO much for her - so much that she would probably stick around. Probably. That was what kept Beca’s mouth shut. Probably isn’t the same as definitely. Even with her fear, Beca needed to feel someone was in her corner. Someone was supporting her, especially if she was about to do what she was considering. That desire overcame her fear. “I … I think I know … a first step…,” Beca cautiously explained. “A first step … to maybe … working through this?”
Chloe smiled, her eyebrows raising. “That’s great, Becs. Right?”
Beca mindlessly nodded. “Yeah … but … I think I … need to talk to Jesse.”
“Oh.” The hope disappeared from Chloe’s face. She better understood some of what had been tortured Beca. Jesse Swanson. Chloe had little good to say about the guy. He was a narcissist, a douchebag, a smarmy self-centered wuss of a jackass. And Beca’s boyfriend of four years. They had started dating in their junior year of college. They stayed together after graduation, both finding jobs in Atlanta. They moved in together two years prior. And everyone was expecting there to be an engagement soon - in fact, most people were surprised that there wasn’t already a ring on Beca’s finger. Chloe had seen more than her share of guys like Jesse - ones who were threatened by their partner’s success, who needed to feel like they were in charge, who believed they were better than everyone else. Chloe had dated guys just like Jesse, so she had a radar for guys like that. Jesse set off her alarms the first time Beca dragged him along to after-work drinks. He belittled Beca - always in a “just kidding” way. He rolled his eyes constantly. He would talk over people, acting like hThen he was distant, trying to get Beca to leave before she was ready. And he hated Chloe from the outset. It was as if he realized she knew exactly what he was, and he immediately put his defenses into place. Jesse didn’t like hearing things that upset his precious view of how life should be. So, if Beca needed to talk to Jesse - things were serious … and they could get worse.
“Listen, Becs,” Chloe began. “I know you have been carrying the weight of the world on you. And I know you’re nervous to talk to Jesse. But if it could help in any way … you’ve got to do it.” Beca nodded while staring at the wall. “And I know you can do it. You can because you’re Beca Fucking Mitchell. You’re a badass.”
Beca couldn’t help but chuckle. “Beale, you’re so weird.”
“Hey,” Chloe answered with a wide grin. “It made you laugh. It was worth it.” Silence settled again, the darkness threatening to retake the room. “Hey, you know if you ever need me … for anything … just call.” Chloe wore the same intense look of concern that Beca was all too familiar with lately.
“I know,” the brunette replied softly. “I appreciate you more than you know.”
Chloe smiled and got up, walking back out of the office - but not before squeezing Beca’s shoulder in solidarity.