Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Pitch Perfect and not Johnny Nash's song I Can See Clearly Now

Well, Beca thought. Tonight was the night. Or, as Aubrey so had aptly put it, The Night. You could practically hear the capitals in her voice. After the bus fiasco, what with flying Mexican food and running out of gas, all of the Bellas were slightly frazzled. However, they were all also hell-bent on winning and, again Aubrey's words; bring those ding-a-lings down a peg. But watching the Foot Notes in the wings in their god awful uniforms (Beca's words), their chances were quickly diminishing.

Someone, Beca thought it was Stacie, whispered harshly, "Where the hell did he come from?"

"Calm down," Aubrey snapped back, though she looked a little green around the gills. Beca moved a few feet away, hey you can never be too careful around the Vomit Comet, and went back to observing the performance in front of her. They were good, she'd admit that much. But their main singer, the guy who just gave her what she thought was supposed to be a flirtatious head nod, sure sounded young. He looked young too, but the kid sounded like he hadn't even finished puberty yet. Still, the Foot Notes finished strong and Beca could pretty much feel the morale of the girls behind her evaporating.

Aubrey gave some speech that was meant to inspire them, honestly Beca tuned most of it out, and they took the stages. There were a few cat calls and then silence. "One, two, three," Aubrey counted them off and then they were out and singing. Beca sang and danced along although she still despised the routine. She wasn't suicidal enough not to at least fake her way through this.

But as Beca looked out over the crowd, she saw more than just a few people yawning and she could do nothing but internally roll her eyes. However, when one of the filming/judge people not so discreetly checked their phone, she knew drastic measures had to be taken. So, she took a deep breath, her eyes closing quickly before she started singing one of her default songs.

This time baby, I'll be. Bulletproof.

Nearly every Bella looked back over their shoulder to give her a questioning look but Beca didn't bend, looking straight ahead the whole time. It was a kick-ass edition, if she did say so herself. But she could only hope that it was enough.

Bulletproof. Bulletproof.

When Beca saw the happy looks of the Bellas as they walked off stage, she couldn't help but feel happy too. However, once they were safely in the wings, here came Aubrey, pushing her way through people with a very irate, "What the hell Beca? Were you trying to screw us up?"

Beca's cranial functions shut down in that instant, absolute disbelief taking over. She couldn't help but sputter, "Really? You're serious?"

"News flash," Aubrey sneered. "This isn't the Beca show."

Oh. Oh no she did NOT. Beca felt her eyes go wide and she said, "Okay, I'm sorry that I messed you up, but in case you hadn't noticed, everybody pretty much dozed off during our set."

Aubrey just sneered again and said like she was speaking to a child, "It's not your job to decide what we do and when we do it. Why don't you ask the rest of the group how they felt about your little improvisation?" Beca looked around to all the other singers, looking for someone to disagree with Aubrey. All she got were the girls avoiding her eyes, some looking at the floor, some at Aubrey, but none at Beca.

In a small voice, Beca asked as hopefully as she could allow herself to, "Amy?"

Amy looked over her shoulder at Jessica before looking to Beca and saying as nicely as she could, "It was cool. But it did take us a little bit by surprise."

Before Amy could finish, Aubrey butted in with, "Yeah, a lot by surprise."

Amy tried to make amends, she really did. "A little," she disagreed, her fingers held close together.

Aubrey straightened her blazer with a huff and said snidely, "I told you she wasn't a Bella."

"Aubrey don't," Chloe spoke up for the first time that whole fiasco. Beca felt herself suddenly get furious (well… MORE furious). Chloe was the reason she was in the stupid club in the first place. If she had just minded her own business and not butted into other people's personal business and showers for that matter, NONE of this would have happened.

Beca felt something inside her snap and she vaguely heard herself say, "No, that's okay. You don't have to pretend you're allowed to have in the group, right?" Right as she said it, she saw the look of hurt flash across Chloe's face, but Beca really couldn't find it within herself to care at that moment. She had trusted these girls and they did THIS to her? After what she put up for them? Oh no, Beca didn't think so.

While Beca was internally ranting, Aubrey was doing hers externally. "Your attitude sucks. You're a grade-A pain in my ass, and I know that you're trying to become captain and ruin this all for us."

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Jesse staring at her and she flashed an apologetic glance his direction before full on turning to Aubrey. "You know what? You're a grade-A pain in my ass too. And no, I didn't want to be captain. I wanted you and Chloe to get to your stupid nationals and do what you love for people from all over the country. But this," Beca gestured to Aubrey and the awkward looking Bellas in the background. "If this is what I get for trying."

With that Beca shook her head and spun on her heel, leaving behind a stunned Jesse and group of Bellas. However, she didn't turn to look back once. Instead, she stalked down the hallways, slamming open the double doors. Behind her, she heard someone running after her, probably Benji, shouting, "Beca! Beca wait!"

She didn't. She marched right out the doors and hopped into a waiting taxi. Beca was so furious, her eyes were watering and she angrily swiped her hand across her face, unsurprised when it came away moist.

Tony, an old and wizened man in his late seventies with a mop of pure white hair, looked into his rearview mirror. As a taxi driver, he'd been subjected to seeing the underbelly of humanity. Drunken people, violent people, flirtatious people, and clearly upset people. That last category is definitely where the small, dark woman currently crying softly in the back of his car.

"Where to lass?" the man asked softly, trying not to worsen the water works. Luckily, the young woman seemed to fortify herself at the reminder that there was someone else in the car.

She took a deep shuddering breath and said shakily, "Barden University. Baker Hall."

"You've got it." The taxi driver pulled away from the Concert Hall. The drive was quiet and somewhat tense, the young woman obviously lost in her thoughts. Gently, the taxi driver said, "If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?" The taxi driver was then quiet, waiting to see if the girl would answer. He didn't actually expect her to, more times than not when he asked a question, he was ignored and treated as if he was a part of the car. Just when the man was about to give up and turn the radio on, there was a soft voice from the back.

"I just got kicked out of my singing group," the girl said quietly.

"Why?" the older man pushed gently, giving her all the time in the world to pull back and not say anything.

There was another long pause before she said, "We were singing on stage and I changed the set. The people in the audience were checking their phones and practically sleeping, so I tried to wake them up, do something interesting, you know?"

The old taxi driver nodded and said, "Aye, aye I do. What went wrong?" The pause was shorter this time.

"It was kind on stage, sort of last minute and the leader is a total controlling bitch so she kicked me out." The old taxi man nodded, looking in the rearview mirror again. For the first time he noticed the ridiculous outfit the girl was wearing.

The man couldn't help but chuckle, "Going on a flight, lass?"

The girl grimaced as she looked at her outfit as well. "It's awful isn't it?"

"I didn't say that," the taxi driver said with a laugh. "Not my place. So what are you going to do now?" The girl's grin disappeared and a scowl replaced it in the blink of an eye.

"I don't know," she said through clenched teeth. "I really liked them, they were like family."

"Hmm," the taxi driver hummed in the back of his throat. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, until Tony turned on the radio. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he sang along (more like belted) along with every song that he knew that came on. Tony knew it was against company policy to sing along to the radio, but the girl didn't seem to mind so he kept right on singing. Eventually, the girl's façade broke and she started singing along with him. Her high and clear voice contrasted with his deep and heavily accented one as they sang along to every country song that came up.

Finally, Tony pulled up into the main Barden Square. He didn't miss the girl's grimace as she looked around at the college. Briefly he heard her mutter in the back, "God I hate this place."

"Then why are you here lass?" the taxi driver asked. The girl started, clearly shocked that the man had heard her mutterings.

She eyed him suspiciously and said slowly, "My dad works here and it's really important that I get a college education."

"Do you want one?" the driver asked knowingly.

"My dad does," the girl said shortly.

"Ah, ah, ah," the old man shook his head and waggled his finger. "That's not what I asked. Is this what you want?" The silence was a good enough answer. "Your total today is going to be $42.60 lass," the taxi driver announced.

There was no other words exchanged except for a muffled, "Keep the change," as the girl pressed a wad of bills into the old man's hand. She got out of the car but didn't go into the dormitories.

"A word of advice, lass," the man shouted out after the girl. He really couldn't help it, she looked so much like his own granddaughter, but just a little more lost. "Do what you want. Not what you think your family wants. If they were really your family, they'd want you to be happy." That made the girl pause. She turned back around and appraised the older man with startling steel blue eyes.

"Can you wait, just for a couple minutes?" she asked hesitantly. The older man smiled and relaxed into the driver's seat, his arm thrown comfortably around the passenger seat.

"I won't go anywhere," he assured the small girl. The girl nodded tersely once before turning around and pulling out what the taxi driver assumed was her cell phone.

Beca swallowed thickly as she stared at the email she had received earlier today that she'd been so afraid to look at. She hadn't responded to it for fear that it was a joke, but there it was. The subject line read; Looking for Beca Mitchell, the return address from Manny Ramirez, Head of Talent Recruitment out of Turn Styles Record Incorporate. She'd sent in a demo and resume back when she'd been a senior in high school, on a last minute whim and had never heard back from them.

However, yesterday, Beca had gotten an email during Bellas' rehearsal. She'd been too scared to open it. She didn't know what exactly she was scared of, absolute rejection or them wanting her to come out right away and she'd have to leave the Bellas high and dry before the Finals. Now, though, she didn't have anything to hold her back. The taxi driver was right. Just because her father wanted her to get a college education, it didn't mean that she had to. Beca figured that maybe this once she could go with her gut and do what she wanted. Maybe it was about time for her to put herself first.

Beca took a deep breath and clicked on the email, her heart pumping loudly somewhere in her throat.

Dear Ms. Mitchell,

My name is Manny Ramirez and I'm the Head of Talent Requirement out at Turn Styles Records located in Los Angeles. Sometime earlier this year, you sent us a flash drive filled with mixes you'd created. They were new and creative and I can say without a doubt that that is the sound that we're looking for here at TSR. We would love to fly you out to L.A. so we could see what you do in person and possibly talk about you working with us here in production. Please let me know soon if you're interested in the position. We have a flight booked and as soon as you respond, we'll let you know all the details. You can reach me at (323) 555-0654.

I look forward to hearing from you soon,

Manny Ramirez.

Beca felt like the world had stopped spinning. She wanted to throw her hands in the air, flip off all of Barden University at once, and collapse into a grateful ball and cry. Maybe do all three at once. Instead she decided to take a few deep breaths and dial the number for Manny Ramirez. The phone rang three times before a somewhat muffled voice said, "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Manny Ramirez?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"My name is Beca Mitchell, you emailed me yesterday that you received and liked one of my mixes?" though she wished it had come out more confidently, the sentence sounded more like a question.

"Oh!" Mr. Ramirez exclaimed and Beca vaguely heard some clattering noises in the background. "Ms. Mitchell! It's great to hear from you finally!"

"Yeah," Beca trailed off. "And could you call me Beca? Ms. Mitchell makes me feel old." Beca flinched as soon as she said that. It sounded so pretentious.

Thankfully, Mr. Ramirez chuckled as he said, "Sounds good Beca. But that means that you've got to call me Manny."

"Alright," Beca said, sounding far shyer than she wished. "So did you really like my mixes Manny?"

Manny laughed again and he said in what she hoped sounded like disbelief, "You're joking right? I haven't heard anything like that in years. We've been looking for someone who can bring something new to the table and I think you're it kid." Beca wanted to cry from absolute joy, but still, there was that little doubt in her head.

"Mr. Ramirez," Beca started but she was quickly cut off.

"Eh, eh, eh. What did I tell you about the 'Mr. Ramirez' thing?"

"Sorry, Manny," Beca made sure to emphasize the change of name. "I've got to ask. Is this for real?"

"What do you mean?" Manny sounded genuinely confused. Beca sighed and out of habit pulled the hairband holding her hair up in that ridiculous up-do and ran her fingers through the curly tangles, tugging the bobby pins out along the way. She was silent for a few heartbeats longer, trying to figure out how to word her question better.

Finally she said, "How do I know that this isn't just a joke? How do I know that you're not just a temp or some random hobo?" Manny was the one who was silent this time around.

"Do I sound like a hobo?" Manny finally asked and he sounded so hurt that Beca couldn't help but snort slightly. Manny was silent again before he asked, "Beca, are you using an iPhone right now?"

Beca furrowed her brow and she said slowly, her answer drawn out, "Yeah. Why?" Manny didn't answer. Instead, Beca got a notification on her phone that a Los Angeles area code number was requesting a Face Time chat. More than slightly bemused, Beca tapped accept and came face to face with an afro. Well, more accurately, the face attached to the afro.

"What's up?" afro man, Beca could only assume that this man was Manny, said with a face splitting grin.

"Manny?" Beca asked with a disbelieving smirk.

"That would be me chicka. And can I just say that your picture did not do you any justice. Though you look a hell of a lot younger than I thought. How old did you say you were?"

"18," Beca reminded the afro man as Beca had (somewhat) affectionately dubbed Manny in her mind.

"Only 18," Manny mused. "Oh, you're so going to be a riot as soon as we get you out here."

Beca's lips twisted in a half-smirk. "Who said I was going out to LA?" Beca teased.

"I did," Manny said definitively, his head and consequently his afro shifting as Beca assumed Manny folded his arms.

"I heard your music and I wanted you. Now I'm seeing you and hearing you at the same time and I'm telling you that I'm not letting a kid like you get away. No way no how. Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"Well the afro certainly doesn't help," Beca was smirking again. She had no idea why, but she was relaxing in Manny's digital presence. Even though the man was possibly the catalyst that could start her career, she felt comfortable enough to use sarcasm (even though some people call that her defensive mechanism). This man held everything about Beca's future in her hands and she was mocking the man's hairstyle of all things. Maybe she did have a bit of a sarcastic defense mechanism…

Beca's attention was brought back by the picture of Manny switching as the man started showing Beca around the office he was working in. He showed her the offices of some of the main producers. He introduced her to all of the people in the office, always introducing her as 'That chick that I want to ship here from Georgia that thinks that I'm a hobo taking her for a ride'. Beca would smirk and wave to the people and they all laughed at her while introducing themselves.

After twenty minutes of Manny walking around the offices, Beca waved her hand and said, "All right, I'm sold. So you're not a hobo and you're really just a crazy afro man who wants to fly me from Georgia to LA on the off chance that I can impress your boss enough to land a gig with you guys. Still sounds a little nuts to me."

"Ah but therein lies the fun chicka!" Manny said with a face splitting grin. Beca just smirked and shook her head slightly. "Does this mean you'll come out?" Manny sounded so hopeful that Beca didn't have it in herself to deny the man even if she had wanted too, which she so didn't.

"Yeah, I'll come out," she agreed. Manny and several of the people around him let out a whoop and Manny was smiling even more if that was even possible.

"Oh you're going to love LA! When can you leave stinky old Georgia and come join us in the land of dreams?" Beca shrugged though all Manny could see was her face.

"Whenever you guys want me," she said honestly. "I'm good to go." Manny's grin got even bigger (this man was seriously going to tear the corners of his lips at this pace).

"I can't get you on a flight tonight or tomorrow but in two days I can get you on a plane out of the Atlanta airport and into LA. It might not be first class though, will that be okay?"

"Oh I don't know that might be a deal breaker," Beca said but with a sarcastic tone and smirk.

Manny rolled his eyes at the girl and said, "I'll email you the details. It was great talking to you and I can truthfully say that I can't wait to work with you!" Beca agreed, thanked Manny profusely, and eventually ended the call. She could honestly tell you she couldn't remember a time when she was more elated than she was at this moment. Beca turned around and with a jolt saw the taxi and the driver that she'd asked to stay. She rapped on the window softly and it was quickly rolled down.

"Did you have a good call lass?" the taxi driver asked in a comforting, grandfatherly type way.

"Yeah, yeah I did," Beca said with a genuine smile. The older man was dazzled for a moment, this being the first time he'd seen the girl smile. She had such a beautiful smile that it took his breath away for a moment. Beca was distracted and didn't notice the look of wonderment the man gave her. "Do you think I could have your company's number and your name so I could arrange for you to pick me up in two days and take me to the airport?" Beca asked nervously, wringing her hands slightly. This old man was just some random taxi driver, yet he seemed almost familiar. It was like he was her grandfather. In fact, Beca was pulling up more and more parallels by the second.

"Lass," the taxi man chuckled, drawing Beca out of her thoughts. "It would be my pleasure." Beca smiled again and the man took out a business card from his glove compartment and a pen. He quickly scribbled his name on the back, Tony Delgatto, and with a final wave, drove off.

Beca slid the business card into her wallet and made her way into her dorm building. She knew that she should be more upset at what happened with the Bellas, but right here, right now, not a lot could stifle her joy. Not even the soul-shriveling glare Kimmy-Jin glare shot Beca when Beca staggered into the room well past midnight and collapsed on her bed, still in the awful Bellas' uniform. For the first time in a very long time, Beca Mitchell went to bed with a smile on her face.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It's gonna be a bright, bright
Sun-Shiny day.

I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I've been prayin for
It's gonna be a bright, bright
Sun-Shiny day.

So thoughts? Good? Bad? Worth continuing? THOUGHTS PEOPLE THOUGHTS.