Good lord this chapter was hard to hammer out. Not that I had any time to write, either. Anyways, here you go!

Also, I edited the first chapter a lot (mainly changing the first little part). It's because I was reading it and realized I forgot to write in that they took an elevator to Beca's flat. So it looked like they climbed up 6 whole flights of stairs, haha. So I ended up just editing the whole piece anyways.

Beca felt the bass-heavy music reverberating through her body. She felt at ease in the booth, looking down at the dancing crowd below her. The hundreds of people on the dance floor looked like one giant blob of colours, rippling as she set her track up for another drop. She liked DJ-ing on occasion - there was nothing like watching the whole dance floor adjust to her sound; being able to manipulate the crowd and get them excited for the peaks and drops. It always came with such a rush.

She saw, rather than heard Luke behind her, knocking on the door (or more accurately, tapping his beer bottle against the glass). Beca gestured for him to come in, moving one side of her headphones to rest behind her ear so she could hear him.

He stepped in, beckoning in a brown-haired man to follow.

"Beca," He greeted, speaking loudly over the din of the club. The guy standing beside him waved.

"Luke," Beca replied. She gave a lazy glance to the man with him, deciding she should acknowledge him too. "Stranger." She added.

"This is Caleb; he's gonna take over for the night." Luke said, ignoring the sudden look of distaste from Beca. He gestured for him to start setting up his equipment, in which Caleb did without a word.

Beca watched him with a sour expression, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why?" She demanded.

Luke chuckled at her agression, and instead handed Beca his beer. "Relax. Here, I got you a drink; let's take a walk."

Beca shot a cautious look to her mixing equipment and laptop, accepting the beer carefully.

"Stop looking like you're being robbed. Your stuff will be here when we get back, trust me." Luke said.

"I'm still booked for another hour, though."

Luke waved it off with an outstretched hand. "There are bigger fish to fry; come on." He said, making a move to leave the booth.

Beca rolled her eyes, removing the headphones from her head and placing them by her computer. There was nothing more irritating than being interrupted when you're in the middle of a session. She gave the Caleb guy a warning look before following Luke out the door (Lord help him if anything is misplaced). Beca had to hustle for a few steps to catch up to Luke in the hallway.

"What's this about?" Beca asked, trailing behind him. She cradled her beer to prevent it from being jarred out of her hand by various people. Pushing past them reminded her of why she preferred to be on the stage side of a crowd.

Luke maneuvered his way through the hall, leading Beca to the VIP lounge. "Your mixes sound really good tonight. Better than usual, Beca."

Beca squeezed through a group of drunk men, barely emerging through the other side.

"Randy Sift happens to be here tonight, and asked who was DJ-ing." Luke said. "I told him it was Beca Mitchell, and he was ecstatic. He asked to speak with you."

"Randy Sift?" Beca repeated, stopping in her tracks. "From New Rendition Records?"

Luke kept walking, only to look over his shoulder and sigh impatiently at the immobile Beca. "Yes, that's the one. Now come on before you get plowed down by these drunk idiots." He said, walking back to clap a hand on her shoulder. He lead her forward until they reached the doorway.

Upon arriving, Luke parked Beca in front of the red velvet doors and towered over her.

"Randy Sift rejected me, last time I checked." Beca said, speaking up at his looming figure.

"He's over it. Things like these happen all the time, and he gets that." Luke replied.

Beca sucked the inside of her teeth in irritation. "Over it? NR dropped me like I was nothing; completely disposable."

"And you are disposable." Luke said, reminding her of the nature of the job. "So let's make you in-disposable."

Beca crossed her arms. "Well to be honest, I'm not really interested right now. I've got some stuff I've been working on and I think it's got a real good chance of selling."

"Beca, listen up." Luke started, sighing as if he was reprimanding a kid. "You get an opportunity like this, and it doesn't matter if you're working on other stuff. Who cares if you're interested or not. Get interested. He was talking about some new projects for the label, and I think there's a really good chance he might be tossing around the idea of a contract. Do you understand what that means?"

Beca nodded tersely, trapped underneath Luke's towering figure. She understood exactly what it meant. It meant that if Randy was interested, this could be her chance for a comeback since the DUI. New Rendition had dropped her from their label only half a year ago - a second chance to work for them this soon was a rare opportunity. One that could be game-changing for her career.

So Beca found it strange that instead of being excited, she felt herself inwardly groaning at the prospect.

Sure, it would kick start her career back to her former glory and build her brand; not to mention it had always been her label of choice . . . But she wasn't sure if she wanted that anymore. The whole 'hot shot' deal. Going back to all that noise seemed like a chore, rather than an opportunity.

In fact, Beca had grown comfortable in her simple routine - spinning here and there, working from home, living a rather low key life. Maybe she was slipping back into her natural introverted disposition. She liked doing her own thing.

And it wasn't like she hadn't been productive, either. Her and Aubrey had gone back to the studio and completed their tracks just the other week; the blonde had even been helping her with most of her other material for the past couple months (who knew Aubrey had a knack for modern-day music). She had more than one USB of tracks that could make a client go platinum. And besides; Beca had enough money to live comfortably without getting back into her old work habits.

Then again, working with the best can be addicting. And undoubtedly, NR was the most successful label out there.

The logical part of her mind urged her to jump through that door and tell Randy exactly what he and Luke wanted to hear - that she'd love to team up with New Rendition Records and give the whole 'glam' thing another shot. The other part of her mind knew that she'd just be acting.

The expectant look on Luke's face told her it'd be hard to explain why she wanted to pass up the opportunity. But that was a given. The likelihood of hell freezing over was greater than the likelihood of Beca getting any of her own ideas through Luke's thick skull. Anyhow, it was worth a shot.

"I know that this is what we've been working towards since, well - ever. But I don't want to jump into this just yet. It's a little quick - impulsive, even; don't you think?" Beca said, half reasoning with Luke, half reasoning with herself.

Luke's answer was curt. "No."

Oh.

"It's just not a good time. I'm unsure if-" Beca started, but she was interrupted quickly.

" - There's nothing to be uncertain about, Beca. Make a good first impression, and he might put you back on the grid. You could get your game back." Luke said, his impatience evident. His steely blue eyes were as unrelenting as his personality.

"But-"

"- But nothing. You need to fix what you broke. So you're gonna put your mid-life crisis self to the side, and give me the marketable Beca that I can actually sell. You will agree with all the stupid things he says, laugh at all the stupid jokes he makes, and kiss the ground he walks on if you have to in order to get that contract. We can't afford to mess this up. Do you get it?" Luke finished, emphasizing the last four words with separately. He squared his jaw at the brunette as if to remind her that he was still in charge.

A mini stare-down had blue against blue, and Beca reluctantly caved.

"I get it." Beca breathed.

Luke nodded. "Good. Come on, then." He said, pushing open the door and letting her walk in first.

She took a deep breath, trying to push down the anxiety building in her stomach.

Beca had learned a long time ago how to deal with people in the entertainment industry. It was like they all came out of the same cookie-cutter mold: loud, flashy, excitable, and more often than not, fake. She could deal. She'd been talking her way in and out of gigs with honchos like these for years now. It was a game - how to sell yourself out without really selling yourself out. Except this time, she just wanted to make her way through the meeting. This largely involved acting.

So when Randy Sift held his arms out and exclaimed with a loud, booming voice "There she is! Beca Mitchell!", Beca smiled warmly instead of projectile vomiting on his shoes.

"Randy Sift, it's good to finally meet you." She said, shaking his hand before taking a seat in on the adjacent couch. She felt a little phony and out of place; maybe because her head hadn't been in this game for a long time. She wish she had more time to prep and contemplate if she wanted 'back in'. But she supposed she could think about her feelings later.

Randy adjusted his sunglasses, sporting a grin that nearly split his face in half. "The pleasure is all mine. I heard this DJ spinning an amazing track, and knew I found the person I was looking for. Then lo and behold, it turns out to be Beca Mitchell. It must be my lucky day."

Beca returned the grin, trying to ease into the persona she had spent the last five years perfecting. Not much luck in that department. "Here I am;" She breathed, leaning back into the arm of her chair.

"Of course. You know what, Mitchell? You're very talented."

"And you're very successful." Beca countered.

Randy's chin raised ever so slightly at the praise. "I do enjoy success. I assume all people do - which is why successful people band together. Pool ideas, talents, money, and influence to create even more money and influence. A person is only as good as their resources." He said, thoughtfully.

"Or the people around them." Beca said. She looked down the barrel of her beer bottle, having almost forgotten about the beverage. She figured it was true - a person is only as good as their resources; but the company they keep defines them more than their bank account ever could. A person's social circle is often a reflection of their values.

Randy's gaze flicked towards her, like a snake darting out its tongue. "Like I said, resources." He replied, a sly grin growing from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you know why I asked to see you?" He asked, his voice a little too suave and velvety. Like a flower that was sickly sweet.

"Not too sure." Beca replied. It was a lie, seeing as anybody with half a working brain could figure out why he'd want to see her. But she'd let him bring it up.

Randy scooted forward on his chair and pressed his fingers together in deep concern. His glasses fell down the bridge of his nose just enough to let Beca see his brown eyes, peeking from behind Versace. "I've decided my business needs you." He said. Randy maintained eye contact, waiting for Beca's response.

In the small pause, Beca felt past wounds reopening. Of course Luke had told her that he was interested in hiring her, but hearing him say it for himself made her a bit bitter. Now he wanted her? Like he hadn't already shot that horse in the face.

"You turned me down." Beca said blandly, maybe sounding a bit more disinterested than she intended.

Randy looked a bit taken aback, but his casual composure did not falter. Instead, he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back to look at Luke who had been lingering by the glass wall. "Where did you get this one? I like her."

Luke merely shrugged; a small, warning smile playing on his lips as if to remind Beca of their earlier conversation. "She sort of just goes where she pleases, this one."

Randy had another laugh before turning his attention back to Beca. She swore his white vest was going to blind her by the end of the night. "Tell me, what have you been up to? You've been off the scene for - what now, half a year?"

Beca took a sip of her beer before answering.

"More or less. I spent a lot of time volunteering at a dog shelter-" Beca began to say, but immediately stopped herself upon receiving a sharp shake of the head from Luke. Apparently that wasn't good conversational material. "But mostly I've been working on some new mixes." Beca said, recovering quickly. Maybe she was a bit rusty at this stuff.

"New material!" Randy boomed, nodding eagerly. "That's what I like to hear. The industry is bleak right now; heading off in a touchy-feely direction that isn't much fun to dance to, if you know what I mean. We need music that's going to energize people. The type that can't be ignored. I want to get people off their feet with fresh music; something really exciting."

"You have a new project in mind?" Beca asked.

"Of course! A man like me always has ten new projects in the back of his mind." He said, looking pleased with himself.

"Lucky you." Beca murmured.

Randy stretched out his arm, gesturing for one of the servers to pass him his glass of scotch. He nearly downed the whole glass before turning his attention back to Beca. "Where do you get your inspiration from? What's the motivation behind your music?" He asked.

Beca shifted, taking another swig from her beer while she contemplated. There were a number of ways she could answer that question.

First and foremost, she usually just mixed whatever she thought sounded good. That was basic.

Secondly, her latest sound incorporated a lot of old hits - her time off had given her some opportunities to go back to her collection and listen to songs she enjoyed from long ago. In fact, she took a lot of ideas from her old mixes that she had made back in college - the days where she'd do anything to get her name out there.

Lastly, and perhaps the most defining characteristic of her new music, is how she mirrored the peaks and drops of her tracks to match the ups and downs of her life. With her recent introspection on what she wanted in life - her career and her relationships - she was in a constant state of uncertainty. Her music was a reflection of that.

She supposed that that was the aspect which shaped her music the most. Randy seemed to interpret it as 'exciting'.

"Life in general, I guess. The struggles we face, as well as the joys." Beca finally responded, dumbing it down.

"Spoken like a true artist." Randy smiled warmly. "Experiences from your blossoming career, I take it."

"In part. I was mostly referring to the company we keep." Beca said, correcting him.

He clapped his hands together. "Of course! Those we hold dear can influence us deeply; their presence seeps into our work like a vine. It's inevitable. Though people can motivate us as easily as they can deter us from our goals. Am I right?" He asked, almost musing to himself. An air of dreamy wonder filled his words, accompanied by a toothy grin.

Beca resisted the urge to make a face. That's not exactly what she was getting at, but maybe they weren't completely on the same page. "I guess." Beca said.

Randy shuffled forward to the edge of his seat, and gathered up Beca's hands in his own. She could feel the cold steel of his bulky rings pressing against the outside of her fingers, frozen in his gentle trap. "Let's not beat around the bush, Mitchell. I know you've got what it takes. I've listened to you spin for half an hour and you blew me away. Imagine what we could do in months; in years even, down the road. You can be part of my initiative to reinvent mainstream music; you can be a little piece of my revolution and together we can change the music industry. What do you say, Beca? Would you be interested in joining New Rendition Records?"

Beca removed her hands from his grasp, placing back on her own lap. She plastered a small smile to her face before responding.

"I'll think about it, Randy."

Beca was packing up her equipment in the booth, getting ready to call it a night. From her peripheral she could see Luke approaching, wearing an unimpressed expression. It was bad enough she had to spend another half hour with that weirdo, Randy. Now she probably wouldn't hear the end of it from Luke. She braced herself as he entered the room.

"You'll think about it?" Luke repeated. Leaning with his arm outstretched to the wall as if to barricade her in. "Randy Sift walks into the club, specifically asks for you, then offers you a partnership to your all but crashing career and you tell him you'll 'think about it'?"

Luke's presence only made Beca pack faster. She wrapped up her cords neatly before tucking them into her equipment bag. "You heard correctly." Beca said. She clapped her notebook shut, slipping it into its case.

"You went against everything we talked about." Luke said, his irritation evident in his voice and balled up fist. "You clearly misunderstood me when I said that we needed this to be a done deal."

Beca made eye contact with him for the first time since he'd barged in. "You talked over me that whole conversation. I told you I wasn't ready to accept his offer. I need to think about it." Beca said, her volume rising. She was pissed off at him. He clearly didn't care about what she wanted. He hardly ever did.

It had been that way ever since college, and it was only now that Beca realized it. How many times had he made her change for her job? Pursue other ventures that weren't what she actually wanted? Countless. Of course, he always said it was for her career. And maybe it was. But she was over it. One would think that by working with the same manager for over 7 years, she'd grow some sort of symbiotic relationship to balance wants with needs. Not in this case. Beca had as much of a relationship with Luke as she did with Aubrey's drill sergeant of a father (who, mind you, she's never even met). The only thing that's held them together this long is that fact that they had both been zealously ambitious, and thus a widely successful team. And maybe that was Luke's forte - making logical choices that lead to success.

But she wasn't going to just be some product to sell to the highest bidder.

"New Rendition Records." Luke said, emphasizing every separate word. "That is the end of the road. The be all. You will never work for a more successful label. What the hell's gotten into you lately?"

"Nothing."

"You're deliberately staying off the scene. Your friends haven't seen you in ages, you don't come out to events, you won't take any new clients, and you're obsessed with working on irrelevant side projects. Do you care about your career at all anymore?" He said, firing off.

Beca furrowed her eyebrows as she packed the last of her things.

"It's my life, and my career; I can do what I want with it." She stated firmly.

Luke let out a humorless snort. He paused for a moment, recollecting himself before giving Beca a stern warning. His voice was hard and cutting.

"I am still your manager, and you are still under our label. I can have another shit-for-brains DJ to manage with a snap of my fingers and I can make them a god damn star. You are not exempt. So unless you want to be dropped by the last company that wants your affiliation, you're going to send Randy some demos by tomorrow, or I will put my time into someone else who actually has ambition." His voice was terse. "Do you understand me?"

If Beca's night at the club had been shitty, her morning was even worse. Not only did she have a killer hangover from the excessive back-to-apartment drinking, but she had apparently forgotten about her lunch meeting with Aubrey. Which is why when her phone rang for five consecutive minutes, an impatient Aubrey was on the other line.

"If you are still in bed I will rip you from your sheets!" Came the near-screech upon answering the call. "It's nearly 11:30am, half the day is gone and I am on a schedule."

Beca groaned, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbow.

"I'm not in bed." Beca lied. She looked around the room, squinting because the sun was spewing through her blinds. Her room was a giant mess. When she'd returned last night she had thrown some dinner in the microwave, popped open a beer (or three), and quickly put together a zip file of tracks to send to Randy. Sometime between rolling around in bed with Kraft Dinner and 4am infomercials, Beca had finally been able to sleep.

"Of course not." Aubrey drawled, and Beca could only imagine she was rolling her eyes. "Are you ready to come out now, or do I have to peel you from your mattress?"

"I've been awake for 30 seconds, Bree."

"And?"

Beca sighed. Of course, who wouldn't want to be terrorized by Aubrey first thing in the morning?

"I'll buzz you up." She said.

It took all of 60 seconds for Aubrey to be buzzed in, take the elevator, and barge through Beca's door. At which point Beca was only halfway through deciding if she wanted to brush her teeth or get dressed first.

Beca tossed a sleepy glance at Aubrey. "Hey," She said, her voice still hoarse.

Aubrey ignored the greeting, overwhelmed by the state of disarray in Beca's room. How one could mindlessly throw so many dirty clothes on the floor was beyond her. "I don't see you for a week and this is what happens?" She said, a stern little pout forming on her lips. She immediately started gathering up the nearest clothes.

"Oh hey, you can just leave it. I'll get to it later this week." Beca said from her bedside. She scanned the floor, looking for her pair of black jeans.

"You'll drown in this later this week; don't you have a hamper?"

Beca shrugged. "It's full."

"Good Lord," Aubrey muttered, attempting to make a some semblance of order in the wasteland.

Beca watched the blonde flit about the room, picking up beer bottles and wrappers alike. Aubrey pulled a crumpled pair of pants from behind the bedside table. "Oh, those are clean." Beca said, taking them from Aubrey's grasp. She proceeded to put them on, smoothing out the wrinkles in the black fabric.

"For serious, Beca?" The blonde asked, totally grossed out.

Beca just jumped off the bed and headed to the washroom. "Dixie Chicks serious." She said, as she brushed past her friend.

It only took Beca a couple minutes to brush her teeth, push her bangs out of her face with a headband, and throw some eyeliner on; but when she went back to her room, Aubrey had already made good work of most of the mess. The blonde rolled her eyes at Beca's choice of outfit - just a simple plaid blouse with her jeans. No words needed for that exchange.

Aubrey stubbornly overdressed while Beca consistently underdressed and at that point, it was kind of just their thing.

They went for lunch at their usual Starbucks, each with their own sandwich and coffee. Aubrey was talking about some work party she had attended a couple days ago, mentioning some girl named Helen and some guy named Fred. She went on to talk about the lists of suggestions she'd made for her yoga instructor to improve their teaching methods, and how she probably needed to buy more work out attire. And then she talked about some fundraising plans for a charity that High Note was helping to sponsor.

Beca ate her sandwich as she listened. She preferred it this way. She was more of a listener than a talker, anyhow. And when Aubrey wasn't busy calculating a total, or making a timeline, or creating lists in her mind, she was probably the most talkative person Beca knew. How somebody could have so much going on in their head at once, yet be so particular about it all, still amazed Beca.

Now she was talking about budgeting plans for the new fiscal year. That was around the point she usually lost Beca. So instead, Beca put in the appropriate nod here and there and just let her talk it out. Not that she minded. She enjoyed every bit of Aubrey's presence. The way she talked with her hands, how expressive her face got, how she was one of those people who hold their food while they talk for 10 minutes without taking a bite.

She wondered if she was staring too long - if she seemed too into a conversation that they both knew she didn't understand. In which case, she wondered if Aubrey knew she liked her. To Beca, it was down right obvious - but Aubrey had a habit of missing things right in front of her.

"Have you ever heard of Alpha Records?" Aubrey asked.

Beca nodded. "The independent label that made a little noise, but ended up going under. Right?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Aubrey said. "It's actually owned by a friend of mine. And by a friend of mine, I mean I haven't talked to him in like 3 years. But he contacted me earlier this week, looking for a partnership. What do you think?"

"A revival project?" Beca asked. "Do you have time for that?"

Aubrey shrugged thoughtfully. "It was what we were planning with Bayside. Though Alpha would be a little harder to kickstart."

Beca finished chewing her bite of sandwich. She hadn't told Aubrey about New Rendition's offer yet, but she knew they had major expansion plans. A little pup like Alpha couldn't stand a chance in the market. "I don't know, Bree. Alpha struggled at best; there are too many good labels out there." Beca said. The last thing she wanted was to see her friend invest in a dying company.

"Yeah, but that was before they had me running the project." Aubrey said.

Then again, with that kind of confidence, Beca figured they might have a chance.

There was a short buzz from Aubrey's phone as it lit up with a text message. Beca could see John's name before Aubrey scooped her phone from the table to read it. Her face quickly turned to one of irritation. "Ugh." She breathed, started to type her reply.

"Is something wrong?" Beca asked, wondering what had upset her.

"John," Aubrey muttered, finishing her message before continuing. "He's gonna be stuck in New Orleans for another week."

"Oh, miss him?" Beca asked.

Aubrey gave her a look, as if she'd just said something that insulted her intelligence. "Please, I hardly noticed he was gone." Aubrey said, moving her hair behind her shoulder as if that would assert her independence. "We were supposed to go up to my parent's summer house this weekend. Family tradition. But he couldn't close his client because some complications so he has to stay."

"Sorry to hear." Beca said. Though it didn't surprise her that John was the type of person to put work before family time, or whatever. "Summer house, though. That sounds like a good time."

Aubrey laughed. "If you call landscaping my aunt's giant vegetable garden a good time. Though once that's done, hanging out by the water is pretty nice. It's also the only time you can get more than three Posens in a house at the same time."

Beca laughed as well, because if Aubrey actually relaxing for once was hard to imagine, picturing her gardening was next to impossible. "I wish I still had a cottage to go up to. I haven't been on a boat for years."

"Did you want to come?" Aubrey asked.

Beca looked at Aubrey's face to see if her offer was serious. Which it seemed to be. "Really?" Beca asked, approaching it with skepticism.

"Yeah, why not? If you're not busy this weekend. John's not coming, so I'd be forced to partake in all my family's activities that are more often than not laborious." She mused.

"So you want to have me as a family excuse?" Beca asked, a smile playing at her lips.

"No, I want to have you for good company." Aubrey offered.

There was a small pause.

"Would your parents mind?" Beca asked.

Aubrey shook her head. "No, my mom loves company and my dad will be working in New York. It'll mostly just be my aunt's family."

Beca thought about it briefly. She supposed she could push her weekend plans off into the work week. Though the thought of meeting the Posens was a little petrifying, a weekend with Aubrey by the water didn't sound bad at all. Plus, she could use a break from her stressful week so far.

After a little more deliberation Beca nodded. "Sure. I'll come."

Will go back and edit later. Off to enjoy the sunny day!