So I've had this story just sitting on my computer since a little after the movie came out and only now have I had the discipline to actually put words onto paper. Here's a bit of information I have to tell you before we begin. First, this story will be one of my lighter stories but will have angst nonetheless. It's bechloe and mitchsen (of course). I haven't done as much research for this story as I have for others (I had 200 pages of notes for TLOBC) and I'm trying to see how I write without a definite detailed outline. Hopefully it doesn't suck too bad. The chapters alternate between past and present and thus will be released two at a time (hopefully). Although it I am starting my first year of grad school so I can't make many promises on the update schedule. But I'll try my hardest to get you the two chapters every week or at the least one chapter in the beginning of the week and the second a few days later."

Next, while I didn't outline, I did spend a lot of time doing everything else like creating album and albums covers for the band as well as compiling songs to go along with those imaginary albums. However, I still haven't quite figured out what platform I'll use to share the playlists I created. I might just use Tumblr and post links to the songs as well as the album covers I created.

When the Music Fades

Full Summary:

"We were just six girls that wanted something to do that didn't involve getting pregnant or getting high. We just wanted a way out of our small town. It was supposed to be fun—it was supposed to be a journey. It wasn't supposed to hurt."

The Bellas were one of the largest female rock acts of the 1990s. The six women was the voice of a barely pubescent Generation Y and served as the template for everyone that followed. And unlike so many of their peers and counterparts, they never lost their credibility, never sold out, and never gave up. That is, until the Bellas saw their fame slowly deteriorate due to drugs, tragedy, and betrayal. Now twenty years later, they're forced back together. Can the Bellas finally resolve what led to their break up all those years prior and take the stage once again?

Prologue

May 9, 1992. The day Beca first realized that they were good. That they actually had a shot. Until that night, she had forced herself to persevere through the entire endeavor for Stacie's sake. Make people pay attention. Make them take The Bellas seriously. Make them believe that an all-girl rock band was worth spending their cash on. But this night, at Crowbar, a tiny dive bar downtown on a Saturday night she stopped forcing herself and let the music carry them along.

Her guitar was clean and sharp. Cynthia Rose's bass weaved the spaces between Beca's chords with rhythmic notes of her own, her pink mohawk of braids swung, headbanging as if it were the last time she would ever be allowed to touch a bass. Stacie and Fat Amy on the keyboard and drums were feeding off each other like Siamese twins joined at the stomach and the songs suddenly made five times more sense, tumbling out of her and Chloe's hands and onto their respective fret board. It was such a high that seemed to force Aubrey out her shell and let the shy nerd act fall away as she stood out in front of them (probably blind as all hell without her glasses) with a posture that portrayed more confidence than could comfortably fit inside of one single human being.

They were good and that justified everything. The nights with only a jar of peanut butter to share between them, the three dumpster-rescued mattresses on the floor of their efficiency sized apartment. It was all worth it. Anything for the music, which meant anything for the six of them no matter what the cost. Anything to keep them together.

After the show, Cynthia Rose and Fat Amy packed up the drum kit lightning fast because this was St. Louis and this city was dangerous enough without the added fact of it being midnight and the car being parked in a back alley.

Beca put her guitar away and leaned tired and sweaty against the emergency exit door, drops of sweat still running down the side of her face, her torn Metallica t-shirt clinging to her chest. James Hetfield's whiskey stained vocals sang never opened myself this way, life is ours, we live it our way out of the sound system and the rest of the group barreled off to the bar.

"I messed up the bridge on 'Down by the Water,'" was all Aubrey said from where she stood across from her.

"It doesn't matter," Beca shrugged and thrust a black flash into her hand, grinning, and tugged the small Ziploc with three joints out of the back pocket of her sweat-damp jeans. "We fucking killed it."

Aubrey jerked her head to the side—half pleasure, half dissent—and Beca watched as she gulped whisky from the flask shyly and looked over to where their friends were drinking at the bar.

Aubrey blinked slowly. She dragged her eyes back to Beca's face, the smell of weed filling the air between them and handed back the flask. Her lips curved in a crooked smile, "We kicked ass, huh?"

"Fuck yeah," Beca said, grinning. The two looked at each other as if they could see right inside the other, as if they understood the other better than they understood themselves before they each grew embarrassed and latched their attention on their rowdy band mates.

"Things are going to be different now, aren't they?" Aubrey spoke softly.

"They have to be. We've got to see this thing through. We've gotten good. And tonight, we were," Beca paused, exhaling a breathy force of air, "We were fucking awesome. We've got to see if we can take it all the way."

"Of course." Aubrey swayed closer, nudging Beca's shoulder with her own. "What was it that Stacie said, 'conquer the fucking world'?"

Beca looked over at Aubrey and grinned, "Yeah. We're gonna conquer the fucking world."

Chapter 1 - Don't Look Back in Anger

Take me to the place where you go

Where nobody knows if it's night or day

But please don't put your life in the hands

Of a Rock n Roll Band

Who'll throw it all away

-Don't Look Back in Anger by Oasis

September 2012

Los Angeles California.

"You're on in twenty," came from the doorway before Beca was joined by the set manager and host who stepped inside the dressing room to introduce himself. She felt herself getting more and more anxious as the interview drew closer—something she hadn't been able to get over despite having done hundreds of interviews to date. After a few minutes chatting, the host was called out, apologizing that he couldn't stay long and that he had to get back out to be fitted for his mic. While the hairstylist worked on her hair, the set manager ran through how the interview was going to play out. A few minutes later, she was called out to the set to get the lightning and sound set up for her.

She could feel herself sweating under the studio lights while people fussed around her, attaching a microphone to her shirt and adjusting the light rigging. After a minute or two they were satisfied, and Beca was ushered to the set to the sofa, a make-up artist dashing over and quickly brushing mattifying powder over her face to ensure she didn't look shiny on camera. Beca's palms were sweating and she tried to surreptitiously wipe them on her pants (only to remember she was wearing leather and they didn't absorb any of the clamminess in her palms), before raking her fingers through her hair, upsetting the work the stylist had put into the style. The host smiled at her and they chatted for a moment. The producer asked if they were ready to start and Beca nodded. She reached for the water next to her and took a sip and shakily exhaled as the producer counted down and the cameramen wheeled the cameras in to focus on the set.

The host addressed the camera and announced, "Hey everyone, John Rizzo here from AltSounds and if you're just now joining us, I'm joined here by Beca Mitchell of course formerly of The Bellas and about to release the new solo album Ask More Questions." Turning to face Beca, the cameras panned out to the pair as John looked at her and continued, "Thank you so much for stopping by and spending time with me. Although, I have to say you seem a little nervous."

Beca took a deep breath, released the air slowly and replied with a half-smile, ""Thank you for having me. And no, it's not really nerves, I guess, but more like not really relishing in have a lot of the spotlight on me."

The host chuckled, "Well that's kind of the point of going solo, am I right?"

Beca smirked, "Yeah, I guess so. But anyone that knows me, knows I don't really think stuff through before I do it."

The host was nice and very easy to talk to, so she found herself calming down and answering the questions easily and openly, almost by instinct and she figured all the media training and interview skills she acquired over the years were almost instinctual at this point. Within a few minutes, she was explaining her favorite parts about recording her recent album, her eyes sparkling as she and the host joining in easy laughter.

"So, tell us how it felt being on set for River of Deceit. Putting on the costumes and wearing the masks must have been fun."

Beca grinned slightly as she placed the glass in her hand down on the table next to her.

"I'm not going to lie. It was fun. I got to watch the special effects people make the fake blood and they talked me through every step as they applied the blood prosthetic for when Jesse reaches in and pulls my heart out in the video."

The host follow up with, "Yeah, I along with several millions of fans, based on the number YouTube watches, were happy to see you working with your old friend once again. I hear you were kinda given carte blanche when asked to write the main theme for the movie. What made you bring Jesse in on the project?"

"Well, I write best for other voices," she responded with a shrug. "I mean, it's only recently that I've been writing for my own voice. So, when I came up with the lyrics after watching a preproduction edit of the film," Beca paused and looked at the camera lens, "You guys should definitely go see this film. It's fucking killer." She turned back to the interviewer, "But anyway, once I had the chorus down for 'Angel Eyes,' I thought it'd be rad to have it be a song between the two main characters and that's where Jesse came in. I mean I could've got a fuck ton of other guys to sing the part but Jesse's my best friend and he's always had a weird fetish for film soundtracks—he's probably going to kill me for that— and I figured, why not help him out."

"And the fans are more grateful for it. So, for many of the people that discovered you through your band Woodland Station, 'Angel Eyes' and 'Kill or be Killed' is a bit harder than the work you do for your solo project. How did it feel returning to your old sound?"

Beca paused before replying quietly and honestly, "Uh, I guess it was weird at first. It's kinda like finding an old pair of jeans in the back of your closet and you're not sure if you can still fit them but you try them on anyway. It was kinda like that. Like I said, I didn't used to sing a lot with my…before I went solo but I was able to pick up the sound again easy enough, like riding a bike I guess. You never truly forget how."

The host nodded and followed up by asking, "So does that mean the fans can look forward to a Bella's reunion any time soon?"

Beca frowned and looked at her manager who was standing off to the side. Isaac shrugged, his confused face conveying John was going off script. He gestured for her to steer the conversation back to her new album.

"No, I'm investing all of my efforts into my newest project."

"Aww, c'mon Beca," John pressed on saying, "I'm sure the fans would love to see the sexy sextet back together"

Beca flinched. 'Sexy sextet'. She hadn't heard the moniker dubbed by Rolling Stone, since she packed her bags and walked away all those years ago.

She looked at the John's hopeful face and her frown deepened. "I'm sorry to disappoint but I'd rather not discuss my old band."

Fortunately, John got the hint and switched subjects, asking about Ask More Questions. He followed up with a few more light-hearted questions about the album and her plans for a future tour to wind up the interview and end it on a positive note, which Beca answered without difficulty. However, anyone watching the interview could tell the mention of her old band had sobered the mood in the singer dramatically.

Athens, Georgia.

"Cheers!" rang out from the small booth in the back of the Athens restaurant with an echo of glasses clanging against each other.

Aubrey sat back in the arms of her semi-boyfriend…lover…she wasn't sure. Marc smiled at her and tightened his arm around her shoulder.

"It's been so long since we've seen you guys," one of their colleges, Jennifer said. Her boyfriend, Henry, another colleague nodded and said "We were beginning to worry about you two."

Marc placed the glass that was at his lips down on the table in front of him and said "Yeah, we know. No need to worry, though. Just know that Aubrey has been buried in work down at the school." He rubbed her shoulder and made eye contact with her but the blonde looked away. It was a conversation for another time that Aubrey didn't want to dwell on now. She turned her attention back to her friends who were smiling at each other as Henry asked, "Well did you tell them the news?"

Jennifer beamed as she slapped his shoulder lightly and said, "No silly."

"What news?" Marc asked. The couple in front of them turned towards them and Jennifer chuckled as she said with another quick glance at Henry, "We're getting married!"

"Ayyyee, Alright!" Marc instantly reached out to grab his glass raising it in praise, forcing Aubrey to do the same while trying to keep a grimace off her face. She knew this would only re-spark the heated argument she had with Marc earlier in the week about moving in with him. The four clanged their glasses against the others and Aubrey tried her best to be a supportive friend. She looked over to the bar where the news had been playing only to see that the channel had been changed to some music network. She frowned and turned back towards their friends, "I'm—I'm really really happy for you guys."

Henry grinned as he took another gulp of his beer before standing suddenly. "Hey, bartender, turn that up." Aubrey looked towards where he had shouted in confusion only to pale at the sound of a familiar opening and her fingers twitched, feeling the ghost of a plectrum. Henry grinned as he retook his seat and turned towards his fiancé. "This was the band I was telling you about babe. One of my students gave me their CD…I know, I was shocked kids still bought them too."

Jennifer looked at Aubrey and Marc. If she noticed how uncomfortable Aubrey was, she didn't comment. Her fiancé continued to tap his fingers on the table and Jennifer rolled her eyes.

"Please excuse him. He's been obsessed with this band lately."

Henry grinned, "Have you heard of the Bellas? If not, you definitely should look them up." He took a sip of his beer and pointed at Aubrey, "Hey, you even look like the lead singer. What was her name? Shit…" he said trailing off in thought before shrugging and going back to listening to the music playing from the speakers above them. She caught Marc's eye and he wiggled his eyebrows, amused that Henry was unaware that the woman that sang the song he was playing air drums too sat less than five feet away from him. She forced her own smile, using her wine glass as a distraction as she looked away. She glanced over at the television and caught sight of her in a time she'd rather not relive and forced herself to look away.

However, despite any attempt to focus on the gushing couple in front of her, she couldn't get the music video out of her head—a vision that seemed to have seared itself in her mind. And that night when she found herself on her back taking care to push out breathy moans every few minutes as Marc thrust himself in and out of her, she wondered if she was any happier now than the young girl she had seen on that television screen.

Savannah, Georgia.

Chloe Beale removed her saxophone from the strap around her neck and placed it on its stand next to her desk. She glanced at the clock and walked to the center of the room, taking a seat behind her music podium. She tapped her plastic baton on the music stand in front of her to get her classes attention and signal them to wrap up tuning their instruments. She shifted in her seat to get comfortable as she took out the sheet music for the class.

"Ms. Beale?"

She looked up and smiled at her student, who held a fender Stratocaster in his hand.

"I'm not really sure if I tuned it right. I know you wanted me to learn to do it by ear but it's really hard."

She smiled sympathetically and extended her hands to take the instrument. "That's ok, Julian. I didn't expect you to pick it up so soon. Just keep practicing because it is a good skill to have and gets you on the path to improvisation—knowing what the notes sound like before you play them."

She took his plectrum and began to play random chords. However, even over the sound of the guitar she couldn't help but pick up on the conversation the rhythm and bass section of her band had been holding.

"You know that Grunge died when Kurt Staley offed himself."

"That's stupid man. Of course you'd say that. Anybody that knows anything knows grunge, riot grrl, all of that died when the Bella's broke up."

At the mention of her former band, Chloe's hand slipped and a harsh sound screamed from the amp next to the seating platform catching the attention of the entire class. She grimaced slightly apologizing for the noise before turning back to Julian and telling him his guitar is tuned fine.

Julian smiled in appreciation as he pulled the guitar strap over his head and onto his shoulder. "Thanks Miss Beale. It's like you can play every instrument."

She smiled softly and turned in her seat. She looked at the class apologizing for the noise before picking up her baton.

"Alright, let's start with the C scale."

Atlanta, Georgia

"So, it's decided? We're doing it?" CR asked, spinning in her chair to look away from the audio console. She placed adjusted the earphone in her ear and placed her phone on her lap.

"Of course we're doing it. Everyone knows, twenty years from the first album you've got to do something." Fat Amy said

"I know, but it's easier said than done. What do you have to say about this, Legacy?" She asked the third and so far, silent person, also on the call.

"I want to do it. You know I loved playing with you guys but we also have half of the band that hates each other. How are we going to get them to agree?"

All three went silent for a while before Fat Amy sighed and said, "I'm sure we'll think of something. I know Chloe will be easy enough to convince it's just the other two I'm worried about. They've got more bad blood between them than a pair of dingoes fighting over raw steak."

Emily spoke up and said "I would say getting Aubrey to agree would guarantee Beca but I'm not so sure. I'm still not even sure I know of all that happened between the two."

CR nodded before remembering they couldn't see her. "Yeah but I do and you're right, it's going to be hard to get either of them down here to Georgia, nonetheless to do an entire tour…But we can at least try."

"Alright, so I can give Howie the go ahead?" Fat Amy asked.

"Yeah." CR said after a few moments of contemplation. "Yeah, tell him we're doing it."

She grimaced at the loud whoop that rang in her ear as Fat Amy celebrated. "This is going to be killer. The fans don't know what they're in for."

CR shook her head as the call ended, musing to herself. "And I'm not sure if we know either."

Please Review. If you have any suggestions of how I can share the playlists let me know. I'll have the second chapter up in a couple of days. I'm in the process of packing for my move to L.A. so I'll upload the next chapter when I have time to give it some final edits.