Chapter 1: Welcome to Barden

The tires screeched against the tarmac and the plane's cabin jostled roughly. Beca Mitchell's head snapped upward off her fist as she awoke. She yawned quietly, covering her mouth with one hand while removing her headphones with the other.

Big mistake.

Waaaaaaah! That damn baby eight rows back…

Beca sighed heavily, frustrated, rubbing her face. "God…"

She never understood why parents did that to their children; or to the other passengers on the plane, for that matter. Early morning flights were already awful and to add in shrieking children, that was certainly not how Beca had wanted to start her day.

As the plane rolled along the tarmac towards its gate, the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. On behalf of the flight crew and Delta Airlines, we'd like to thank you for choosing to fly with us today. We'd like to remind everyone to please stay in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until we are completely stopped at our gate, but in the meantime, please feel free to turn on your cell phones. We hope you enjoy your time here in Atlanta, and if this isn't your final destination, we wish you continued safe travels."

The plane slowed to a stop a few minutes later and Beca was up like a shot, her bag in hand. She knew she was being one of those obnoxious, impatient passengers, but she also knew she needed to get off that damn plane and away from these people. She hadn't slept well the night before and the quality of sleep on plane rides, at least for her, had never been high.

As soon as the flight attendants had the door opened, she was out in the aisle and briskly moving toward the exit. Years of flying across the country every few months to visit her dad after her parents' divorce had taught Beca to always choose an aisle seat near the front; always and only bring a backpack with the essentials onboard. She'd never been in the scouts, but she was definitely prepared. She offered the flight crew a curt but sincere thanks and headed up the humidity laden jetway.

The cool blast of the air conditioner was welcome until she stepped further into the semi crowded gate area where the recirculated air, full of perfumes and b.o. and various food smells, conspired together to envelop and suffocate a person in the worst way.

Beca tugged her bag up a little higher on her back and picked up her pace a little bit, uncaring of whether she looked like a woman possessed. She took shallow breaths from her mouth only when necessary and made a beeline directly to Baggage Claim.

20 minutes and struggling somewhat to get two large suitcases off the baggage claim and a few smaller bags later, Beca was sweltering in an unusually long taxi line. August in Atlanta was miserable. She missed Seattle's balmy, salty air already. The only blessing was that there was a bit of an overhang to shade her, and a few benches to sit on. She took off her thin plaid flannel and tied it around waist and tied her hair back a little more.

She had taken out her laptop to finish a new mix she started the night before—for some reason Young MC's "Bust a Move" had been stuck in her head—and it was pure coincidence that it afforded her the opportunity to not have to indulge the woman behind her in line with small talk. Like hell she'd be the sacrificial lamb to that sanity slaughter.

The line moved at a decent enough pace while she was invested in her mix and just as she was exporting it to her desktop, her cab pulled up. Beca shut down the computer and put it back in her bag, feeling better at having finished it. She didn't mind leaving books or homework or even meals unfinished, but when it came to her music? She became borderline anxious when she knew a project wasn't complete.

She pushed her luggage cart towards the car and offered the driver a quick smile and thanks before getting into the backseat. The car was clean enough; didn't have that funky smell some cabs have, for which she was eternally grateful. After being stuck on a plane for hours and walking through the airport's dense musk, then being surrounded by exhaust fumes and diesel smoke from the parking shuttles and busses, a Febreze fresh car was a welcome reprieve.

The driver—Roger, according to his license copy posted behind his headrest—returned to his seat and buckled up.

"Where to?"

Beca sighed and looked out the window to her right.

"Barden University."

"Here we are, kid," Roger said as he found an open spot on a curb in the Move In Weekend chaos. "Barden U."

"Thanks," Beca replied while handing him her fare plus an extra $20 for tip.

As she opened the door and exited the vehicle to the curb, Roger popped the trunk before getting out and helping the already waiting, gold polo wearing upperclassman with the baggage cart.

She stretched a little as she walked outside the car and took in the scene. The sun was still out, but there was a nice small breeze blowing through over here. Barden University was picturesque enough, Beca supposed. Trees, wrought iron, nice landscaping, classic southern architecture…though she did get more of a Louisiana feel from the campus, which was a little weird. She'd been to Baton Rouge once, a long time ago. It was as if they transplanted a college from there and plopped it in a suburb of Atlanta.

She grabbed her backpack from the trunk, slinging it over her shoulder before taking in the more hectic view of the cars and bodies trying to avoid one another on the housing streets.

"Hi there!"

Beca jumped a little as a strawberry blonde girl wearing a green polo with an overly large B.U. seal on it seemed to materialize out of nowhere with a handful of pamphlets and whistles.

"Welcome to Barden University! What dorm?"

"Uh," Beca struggled to recall the name of her dorm for a moment while her heart rate returned to normal. "Baker Hall, I think."

The girl nodded enthusiastically and launched into a series of directions that, frankly, Beca didn't care to listen to.

A slate gray sedan screeched to a stop next to them to avoid a flock of students with their arms full of boxes and bedding, paying little attention to traffic. Beca glanced over as she heard the car's radio blaring out an old rock song and one of the passengers yell-singing along with it.

A guy—probably around her age with short, dark and slightly unkempt hair—scanned his eyes to his right out the window, still singing, and spotted her. Apparently he decided she was the perfect audience because he turned his entire body and "adjusted" his air guitar accordingly before diving into his solo, riffing and whammy barring at her until his dad slammed on the gas, sending his son careening into the seat as he drove away.

She probably would have laughed a little if the over achieving campus helper hadn't turned back towards her.

"Here's your campus map and your official B.U. rape whistle!" She handed off the pamphlet and dangled the whistle in front of Beca. "Don't blow it unless it's actually happening," the girl said with a smile.

Beca took the whistle and immediately put it between her teeth with a tiny smirk on her face, barely taking her eyes off the girl before walking away. Strawberry blonde was entirely unimpressed if the noise she made in the back of her throat and the tight smile said anything.

She and her gold shirted helper walked along the sidewalks in silence toward Baker Hall; Beca merely taking in the craziness of other freshmen practically tripping over themselves (and each other) looking at their new surroundings.

She noticed a group of guys in camping chairs holding up paper numbers and yelling out their idea of astute and complimentary commentary at various girls that walked past. Beca rolled her eyes and let an incredibly sarcastic smile cross her lips before continuing into the residence hall to receive her rooming assignment. Thankfully the line had only a few people waiting and her turn came quickly.

She stepped up to the table and gave her name to yet another girl wearing a green polo.

"Ah, yes. Well, Beca, the school originally had you with a roommate, but she made a last minute request to be paired with someone more…" the girl allowed an uncomfortable look pass over her face before continuing. "Culturally similar. So we've moved you into a single dorm! Second floor, room 224. The elevators are straight down this hall and your room will be down the second hall on the right. The movers got here before you and we took them right up so they could leave your boxes for you. Have a great day, Beca, and welcome to Barden!"

She handed Beca the keys to her room and mailbox with a genuine smile and signaled for the next person in line.

Once all of her bags had been dropped off in her room, and she double checked that all of her boxes had, in fact, arrived, Beca went for a quick shower. She always felt dirty after flying and after being outside in the humidity for so long waiting for her taxi, at least a rinse was in order.

She was back in her room 15 minutes later and changed into a fresh, crimson tank top and gray skinny jeans while also taking a few seconds to apply a fresh layer of eyeliner before tackling her room organization.

40 minutes into unpacking, all Beca had really accomplished was setting up her computers, turntable and keyboard. She'd been hit with sudden inspiration and was sucked into a new mix, which she was in the midst of when a knock came at her door.

"Campus police! Hide your wine coolers!" The door opened and her dad walked in—his beard neat and very short, Kennedy style haircut and wearing his signature sport coat. "Ha Ha! Just your old man, makin' a funny," Dr. Mitchell said with a goofy smile.

Beca smiled back lightly before turning back to her computer.

"Chris Rock, everybody."

He looked around her room a little, noticing the boxes and suitcases in various states of openness and disarray.

"So, when did you get here? How did you get here?"

Beca continued adjusting her desk setup and clicking here and there in her mixing program while she answered.

"Took a cab. Didn't wanna inconvenience you and Sheila. How is the stepmonster?" she bit out callously.

Dr. Mitchell, completely used to his daughter's snarky comments about his wife, chuckled out his response.

"She's fine; thank you for asking. She's actually in Vegas for a conf-"

Beca had turned her attention back to him and interrupted his explanation.

"Oh, no, Dad. I don't actually care. I just wanted to say 'stepmonster.'"

She smiled broadly at him, which caused another chuckle to come out of him. She'd always had that wry sense of humor and he realized just how much he'd missed her since the last time she'd been to Georgia. He smiled softly at her and pulled her into a hug.

"I really missed you, Bec."

She hesitated a moment before bringing her arms around his back and giving him an awkward pat. She didn't hate him; didn't resent him. She knew her parents were better off divorced. But that didn't mean she had to like Sheila or the fact that they had gotten married so shortly after the divorce was finalized.

"Uh, yeah. Missed you too, Dad."

That also didn't mean she was into the whole touchy feely thing either.

Beca pulled back when what she deemed to be a suitable amount of time had passed. Dr. Mitchell gave a tiny nod in understanding and walked around her room and peered out the window.

"So, have you been out on the quad yet? In the spring, the students like to study on the grass."

Beca rolled her eyes slightly and brushed some of her hair behind her ear.

"I don't want to study on the grass, Dad. I want-"

"I know, Bec. I know. You want to move to LA and get a job at a record label and start paying your dues! But we already talked about this. You're going to finish college first. For free, I might add." He walked back over to her and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. "And then I will help you move to LA."

Beca nodded her acknowledgement. She knew he wouldn't be swayed on this, not right now anyway. She'd work on it later in the semester.

"Besides," Dr. Mitchell continued. "This is Atlanta. There are record labels here that you can apply at for internships when you've settled in to your classes! Two birds, one stone, Bec."

If she wanted to be honest, she hadn't actually thought about that. Atlanta was pretty big for certain genres in the music industry.

"In the meantime, why don't you go check out the activity fair? Maybe you'll find some clubs that interest you," he noted her dubious look. "I know you've never been much of a joiner, Beca. But it'll get you more acclimated to the campus, and you never know who or what you may find. Barden is a pretty diverse place."

Beca forced a small smile and replied, "Ok, Dad. Whatever you say."

Chloe Beale and Aubrey Posen scanned the bustling crowds of the Activity Fair from behind their blue and white sign up table.

Aubrey had spotted a few girls she thought may have had potential to join their group, but Chloe claimed she'd come at them with a little too much intensity and that's why those girls had run off so quickly. In Aubrey's opinion that fear just proved how wrong they were for the Bellas.

As they continued to look around, Aubrey fleetingly took notice of a guy with the beginnings of a Jew fro. She did a double take when she noticed with whom he was walking—appropriate height, good bone structure and body type, well groomed. He definitely had potential of another variety. That he happened to look over towards her and they locked eyes and then he almost ran into a lamp post? That was just an added bonus.

Chloe saw and smirked a little.

"What's so in-" A commotion from behind them cut her off.

Whip iiiiit!

A group of guys began singing an a cappella version of that Dazz Band song…which Aubrey would never, ever listen to again.

The girls turned back to face the passing people as Aubrey spoke.

"There's another song I have to take off my playlist. Those aca-jerks cost me so much money every damn year… I just want to-"

Chloe gave Aubrey's arm a supportive squeeze and nodded while the other girl took a calming breath.

"It's a big year. We've already gotten a lot of interest for new members," she said, motioning to their clipboards with quite a few names written down.

"It's a good start. But it's not enough, Chloe. This year is so important for us and we still haven't found-"

"Oh! What about her!"

Chloe pointed with her pen toward a shorter brunette wearing a red tank top and a gray, sleeveless cardigan. Her hair was half pulled back and half down, and she had far more piercings in her ears than Aubrey deemed necessary.

"Oh, I don't know," Aubrey grimaced. "She looks a little too…alternative for us."

Chloe rolled her eyes and pulled out a flyer as Beca was about to pass them by.

"Hi!" Chloe greeted brightly, handing Beca the flyer. "Any interest in pledging our sorority?"

Beca stopped and turned towards the friendly voice, taking the proffered sheet of paper without looking up.

"Beta Epsilon Lambda Lambda Alpha," she read aloud. "That's…weird. Don't sororities usually have only 3 names?"

Aubrey stepped in, "We're not like other sororities." She held out her hand to shake. "Hi, Aubrey Posen."

Beca stared uncomfortably for a moment at the hand before she shook it.

"Uh, hi. I'm Beca. Aren't sororities just the college version of the popular girls in high school? Groups that pretend they're championing some "noble" cause but really they just sit around their house having parties?"

"Excuse me?" Aubrey was borderline seething. Who did this girl think she was? "We raised over $100,000 for Atlanta area women's shelters last year alone, you bitch!"

Beca was equally amused and shocked, but before she could say anything, Chloe stepped back in, smiling kindly.

"What Aubrey means to say is the Bellas aren't your stereotypical sorority on Greek Row. We are a tight knit, devoted group of sisters involved in enriching not only our members' lives, but also the community programs most in need of additional support. I'm Chloe, by the way."

She spoke with such passion and was so honest that Beca couldn't help but be transfixed. Plus, Chloe had these beautiful, piercing ice blue eyes that popped even more with her fiery red hair.

"This year we hope to raise just as much money, if not more, for local animal shelters! Join us and help us turn our dreams into a reality?" Chloe finished with her most winning and hopeful smile.

Beca, having returned to her senses, tried to give her most apologetic look to the ladies across from her.

"Thanks, but…I'm really not the sorority type. But it was really nice to meet you guys."

Beca walked away, but turned back to sneak another glance at Chloe, who offered a sweet smile in return.

"I told you, Chloe," Aubrey sighed agitatedly next to her. "Now, come on. Let's focus on finding legitimate pledges."

They continued to give their pitch to everyone they could. They spoke with practiced ease and remained composed with any rejection they received—there weren't many. All the while, Chloe kept an eye on Beca, who had meandered her way to the Barden University Internship booth.

There was just something about her that Chloe couldn't shake. She was gorgeous, to be sure. But it was more than physical. Chloe just had to figure out how much more and in what way.