So this idea came to me a while back, and then it would keep coming back to me whenever I listened to the song it's inspired by (Change Your Mind from Nashville), which was a lot so I decided this week just to write it so I can actually focus on my other stories without this one nagging me! It's potentially a one shot but I do have an idea for a second part mapped out already, whether or not I write it depends on whether or not you guys want to read it! I'm absolutely in love with this song, and any other songs sung by Scarlett and Gunnar. I highly recommend listening to the song whilst reading this (and just in general) I had it on repeat whilst I wrote and it really helped visualise the story. To anyone reading this who is following my other Bechloe story (You Call Me A Bitch) there will be an update soon!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Universal and the song belongs to ABC and whoever wrote it!

You know you shouldn't be here, this is a very bad idea, one that has the potential to really blow up in your face. But you've lived your life from one bad decision to the next so see no point in changing the habits of a lifetime now.

Really though you weren't left with a choice.

As soon as you saw the sign, the words scrawled somewhat messily in chalk you knew you were heading down a bad path. You knew you should turn back, walk away and never look back. It was the promise you had made.

You've never been good at keeping promises either.

Your feet guide you of their own accord through the simple wooden door with peeling paint that swings open with an impossibly loud squeak, the sound making you wince slightly. The inside of the bar is as shabby and peeled as the door, nothing like the sleek, polished establishments you're used to. But there's a certain charm here in the battered tables and chairs, none of them matching, that litter the floor in front of the large stage that stretches along most of the back wall. The portraits that hang on the wall of past performers, some you recognise, most you don't.

It's busy, but not to the point where you feel closed in. People mill around, almost exclusively drinking pints of beer, you see the odd glass of wine or shot glass but this is a beer place. None of these fancy cocktails you've become so used to drinking, the thought brings a small smile to your face as you make your way through the crowd to the bar, it's been a long time since you've indulged in a beer.

The first sip of your drink is deliciously cold, the taste helping to relieve some of the nervousness you've felt building in your stomach ever since you saw the sign. You remind yourself once again that you shouldn't be here, that you should put your beer down and walk away, out the door, down the street, to the airport and get on a plane.

You get as far as placing your beer on the bar, mind trying to force your legs into movement, but something is keeping you grounded, rooted to the spot. You know exactly what it is, it's the same thing that's had you grounded for years, the thing you threw away and the one thing you know you will always come back to.

With a sigh you pick your beer up again, you're not able to walk away. Once again you're too weak to keep your promise. To take your mind off your mournful thoughts you distract yourself by looking round the bar once again, allowing the sound of gentle conversation and the country songs playing through muffled speakers to wash over you. All of the tables are full, people sat angled towards the stage which has a spotlight trained on the middle where a solitary stool stands, a microphone in front of it.

People are starting to glance in your direction, recognition sparking in the eyes of a few. You didn't realise that your music and image had made it this far south or that anyone in this country bar has an interest in your mixes, but then again your album and songs have been blasted on pretty much very radio station in the country for the past 6 months so it makes sense that at least some people realise who you are. It could also be the ear spikes that you've taken to wearing again, a last ditch attempt to try and recapture the past, or the snapback nestled backwards on your head that has people staring. You aren't exactly blending in with the locals.

Looking down you realise your beer is empty and you turn back to the bar, raising a hand to order another one. The barmaid rakes her eyes up and down your body as she pours your drink, a flirtatious smile pulling at her face. On any other day you might have engaged her in conversation, taken her back to your hotel room and gotten lost in her for a few hours. It wouldn't be the first or even the tenth time you've done it. You'll do anything to dull the ache in your heart, but it never works, no matter how much you drink or however many women you sleep with nothing works and every morning you wake with a start, hands reaching for something that isn't there.

But not tonight, tonight you don't want to try and forget the pain. You want to feel all of it, it's your penance for making the stupid decision to come through the door, you know you can't fix things, your chance at redemption is long gone. But your selfish desire to try is what's driven you here and now you have to see it through.

The barmaid seems to realise you're elsewhere and the smile drops from her face, she places your drink and takes your money, accepting your insistence to keep the change before moving away where she is immediately engaged in conversation by a male patron who appears to show her the attention she craves. Your eyes are already back on the stage, which is no longer empty. A man stands in front of the microphone, a wide brimmed hat on his head casting his face into shadow. He starts speaking and you're hard pressed to make out a single word he's saying his accent is so thick. He appears to say something that the crowd likes, many of them whooping loudly as he exits the stage.

He is replaced by a young man, also in a wide brimmed hat and nervously clutching a guitar. He introduces himself in a shaky voice and you can't help but feel sorry for him, you can see him trembling from here. Taking a deep breath, the young man starts to strum gently, the first few notes are a little hesitant but as soon as he starts singing the nervousness seems to melt away instantly and you can't help the slight widening of your eyes at the transformation. He's bolstered by the music, a wide smile breaking his face as he belts out the lyrics to a song you know you've heard before but can't place. You were never much good with country music; it didn't lend itself to mixing so you ignored it.

After two songs the man leaves the stage, the crowd cheering loudly. The next act that follows isn't as good, but enjoyable none the less, the upbeat music helps to relieve some of the tension you've been feeling, helped enormously by the beer, you're on your third now. The mood of the crowd is infectious and despite yourself you smile along with them, even clapping to the beat occasionally. You draw the line at foot stamping although there is a lot of that going on, people who were seated before are now on their feet, glasses raised high in the air in appreciation of the musicians.

As the acts wear on you settle into a stool at the bar, within easy reach of more alcohol. With each one that passes you tell yourself you should leave, there's still time, you can get up walk out of the door and it'll be like you were never here. That's what you should do, staying is only going to make things worse, you have a life you can get back to, a life where you can forget about this little country bar, with its quaint furniture and friendly staff. You can leave this quiet town, a place that seems content to plod along at its own pace, unburied and unfazed by the world around it. You can go back to the city, where life moves so fast you're sometimes worried it'll be over before you have a chance to live, but most of the time you're exhilarated, happy to be swept along by the fast pace of the people and places around you. You belong in the city, it's your home.

But you don't move, you stay put, eyes trained on the stage. The latest act has just finished and the man with the shadowy face is back calling for quiet, you still can't understand much of what he's saying but you hear the reverence in his voice as he introduces the final act. This person is special to him.

They're special to you too.

This is what you've been waiting for, this is the reason you've sat for the last few hours, unmoving. This is what was promised on the sign outside that drew you in, even though you knew about it long before this evening.

You realise that you're holding your breath.

The entire world slows as she steps out onto the stage.

You should have expected the breath to be driven from your lungs at the sight of her, you should have expected your heart to beat ten times faster than usual. You should have expected to feel like the world suddenly makes sense again after months and months of confusion and chaos.

You should expect to feel all these things because it's what happens every time you see her, since the first time you locked eyes at the activities fair all those years ago and ever since then your body reacts the same way.

Despite expecting it they still hit you like a punch in the gut.

She's still as beautiful as you remember, more so even. Her hair, a brighter red than ever in the glow of the spotlight hangs down loosely over her shoulders, just the way you love her wearing it. It appears she works here; her clothes are the same as the girl who served you behind the bar. You wonder how it was you haven't seen her earlier in the evening, maybe she only just started working.

Standing in front of the microphone she's smiling broadly, the same smile you've seen a million times before but know you will never get tired of seeing. There was a time when your reason for getting up in the morning was the prospect of seeing that smile, it was all you needed. But those days are long gone now, lost with the hundreds of other regrets you've managed to amass, most of them revolving around the beautiful redhead on the stage in front of you.

She's speaking now and that's when you realise she isn't alone. The nervous young man is back on stage with her, still clutching his guitar and smiling out at the crowd. He's good looking in a roughish kind of way, with short fluffy brown hair and the hint of a moustache, he towers over the redhead, lanky limbs not quite sure what to do with themselves. He seems less nervous this time around, his smile coming easier and more naturally, you know it's down to her. She's always had a calming presence, despite her over the top bubbly personality she knows exactly what to do to make people feel comfortable no matter the situation. It's one of the reasons you fell in love with her, she let you be you.

The two are conversing quietly away from the microphone, clearly deciding on a song to sing. You turn away to order another drink; you know you should stop. The other drinks have hit and you feel a little lightheaded, but now you've seen her you need to the courage, the stupidity of what you're doing hitting you full force. The barmaid pours your drink, watching you carefully, again you contemplate her company but dismiss the idea almost immediately. There's no girl in the room who can even come close to the woman on the stage.

Accepting your drink with a smile and a nod you turn your head back in the direction of the stage.

At the exact same moment that she looks up.

Your eyes meet.

For a moment you're frozen, the intensity of her stare is pinning you in place. Shock is the first emotion you see reflected in her bright blue eyes, but it's quickly replaced by a look of grim acceptance. It's almost as if she knew you were here, as if she was able to sense your presence.

You force your face to react, lips pulling up in what you hope is a reassuring smile. It doesn't work, her expression is cold now, it's the same expression she wore when you left. It's haunted you ever since that moment, following you on all your travels like a perpetual raincloud. The smile dies on your lips and you glance away, knowing you've lost this first battle.

The man had started playing an upbeat introduction on his guitar, tapping his foot enthusiastically to the rhythm, but as you look away she speaks low in his ear, the tune trailing off. They speak together for a moment before he gives a nod, although his expression is confused.

The next introduction is soft, gentle strings that lift round the now silent room. The crowd doesn't seem to know what to make of the change in tone, but you know exactly what's happening.

This song is for you.

When you wake up wanting me
And you can't go back to sleep
Change your mind

When you're weak and all alone
And you're reaching for the phone
Change your mind

Her voice is still as hauntingly beautiful as you remember, clear and purer than anything else you've heard before. Immediately you're slammed by all of the memories of all the times you've sung together, and the force of them is almost overwhelming. You've imagined her voice so many times since you parted, often allowing the memory of it to lull you to sleep on the long nights on the road, but your memory is nothing compared to the real thing.

Keep on going till you're gone
Even when you think it's wrong
The moment that you left

She's looking straight at you again as she sings, her gaze piercing into your very soul. It's a skill she's always had, ever since you first met, to be able to see past the walls you'd built, tearing them down brick by brick until there was nothing left.

Change your mind
Baby don't come back this time
Don't wanna have to say goodbye
All over again

Her companion joins in at the chorus, his voice softer, but blending perfectly with hers in a way that has you envious. They share a look on stage, a look that you immediately see is far more than professional. You know that look because you've seen it before, you've seen it directed at you more times than you could care to count, it immediately has the jealously boiling in your stomach even though you know you have no right to be jealous. Her eyes are back on you and you know that she can see the jealously, you were never good at hiding your negative emotions, least of all from her.

So if you think there's still a chance to make it right
And I'm the only one you want tonight
Change your mind
Change your mind

You can hear the pain in her words as she sings, and it's like a knife to the heart knowing that you're the cause. She must have written this song, the emotion and sincerity with which she sings only comes from her own lyrics, the thought causes a lump to rise in your throat pushing down the jealously. You're the reason the sparkle has dimmed in her eyes, her smile isn't quite as bright, quite as hopeful and you realise that if she's losing hope than there's definitely none for you.

Your mind is screaming at you to move, to get out. You knew this was a mistake from the second you decided to walk through the door, you know you should leave before you cause any more damage than you already have done. It's not fair of you to intrude on her life, especially seeing as you were the one that walked out of it in the first place. But you can't move, you can't move because her voice is keeping you anchored in place. The song, this song that she wrote for you, so you would know what you had done, means you can't leave. She would never forgive you if you did.

Your punishment is to hear what she thinks of you, in the deepest, most intimate form of communication the two of you have.

In the early morning haze
When my kiss is all you crave
Let it go

Cause I don't wanna do that dance
The push and pull, the second chance
I already know
Yeah I know

Her eyes are closed now, pressed tightly shut in a way you know means she's fighting back tears. This song is about memory and with each word you're forced to relive all the moments of your relationship you wish you could take back, all the times you hurt her with sharp, unintended words. And of course the time you shattered her heart by walking away when she pleaded with you to stay, after she had begged you. You know she's reliving the same moments in her own head, and you wonder if she thinks about them as often as you do, you hope she doesn't. She doesn't deserve to be constantly revisiting the pain you've given her, and as much as you hate to think about it, there's a part of you that is glad she's moved on.

It's a small part, but it's there none the less.

You'll just promise me forever
And then you'll take it back just like that
Say you can't live without me then you'll

Change your mind
Baby don't come back this time
Don't wanna have to say goodbye
All over again

So if you think there's still a chance to make this right
Change your mind
Cos I don't wanna have to say goodbye
All over again

So if you think there's still a chance to make it right
And I'm the only one, the one you want tonight
Change your mind
Change your mind
Change your mind

The song finishes the way it started, with her eyes locked on yours and the last note fading out to a silent room. The silence lasts mere seconds though before the gathered crowd erupts in cheers and screams. The attention brings a faint blush to her cheeks as she hops off the stool, giving her adoring audience a little bow before accepting the hug her companion bestows on her.

You down the rest of your drink, shifting slightly on your seat, it's time to leave. You've seen her, you've heard her song. Now is the time to go before you get yourself in any deeper than you already are.

When you look up again it's because you feel her eyes on you, she's standing at the back of the bar, half hidden in the shadows. Even from here you can see the indecision on her face, can see the battle that's raging within her. You stare right back, determined this time not to give in an inch, not to lose this fight. You've lost too much already.

After a few moments she breaks, turning away she disappears through a door.

She doesn't want you to follow her, but she knows you well enough to know you will.

You always have.

The door leads to a small corridor, as you hurry down it you see a flash of red turning the corner ahead. Increasing your pace you round the corner and pass through the first open door, finding yourself in a store cupboard. Crates of bottles and boxes of crisps stack the walls, making the room feel small and sheltered.

She's waiting for you, turned away and leaning against a crate, shoulders hunched as if in pain. You linger in the doorway, not sure how to proceed.

"How did you find me?" the question is softly spoken and you almost don't catch it as she turns to face you. Eyes hard and expression harder.

"One of the people on the tour came onto the bus the other day raving about the gorgeous redhead with ice blue eyes singing in the local country bar. I knew you were around here so didn't take much to figure out it was you." You hope the compliment and the smile will soften her expression but it remains uncharacteristically stony as she regards you in silence.

"So you just decided to show up?" the accusation is laced with contempt and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard to you. She never spoke like this before; this is all you.

"I…" You trail off not sure how to put into words how you agonised over whether or not you should come, for days you had paced your bus, arguing both sides over and over again.

Until the urge to see her face had become too strong.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Your apology is brushed away and you bite down your retort, you deserve all of this and you can't deny her it. "Why are you here?"

You don't answer right away, in truth you're not entirely sure why you decided to come. You could say you wanted to see her, and that would be true. To an extent. Your reasons run deeper and more complicated than that, you want atonement for your sins but at the same time you want her to scream and shout, to punish you. You want closure, a chance for both of you to move on, but there's a part of you that wants another chance. You want to get down on your hands and knees and beg her for forgiveness, you want to promise it will change, that you can change.

But the lyrics of her song ring in your ears, you've promised her the world before. You promised it to her after your victory in Europe when the whole world was open to the both of you and the future was so bright it blinded you both, made you naive and childish. You should have realised that life wouldn't take a back seat, you should have realised that happy endings don't just happen.

It was a hard learned lesson, for the both of you.

She takes your silence as a sign you have nothing to say and scoffs, another foreign sound to your ears.

"That song was really good." You sense she wants to leave and say the first thing that comes into your head, anything to get her to stay. Maybe if she stays long enough you'll be able to put the hundreds of words you have in your head that you want to tell her into some form of coherent sentence. "You wrote it?"

"Yes." For a moment you think it's the only answer you're going to get, but then she speaks again. "I guess it really is true that a broken heart prompts the best writing."

You wince at the harshness in her tone, it's a low blow, but one that you fully deserve so you take it without complaint. The silence descends again between the two of you, somehow it seems deafening, you've always been able to speak to each other. She was the only person you spoke openly with, and now you can't seem to find any words to say.

"I thought you'd decided to teach?" you're grasping at straws and you know it.

"I am. I'm back at school, I have this job to pay the bills until I'm qualified." She knows it too and her clipped words tell you she's not going to help you, it's another reminder of the damage you've done. No matter how angry you got at each other she would always help, she would guide your bumbled attempts at apologies. You're not going to be let off this time, you're going to have to work hard.

"I'm happy you decided to chase your dream."

"Not my first dream."

The guilt that's been festering in you for months is made a million times worse at the bitterness in her tone. She sounds older, wearer. Her rosy view of the world has been dulled and once again you have to face the facts head on.

You're the reason she's like this.

"What do you want Beca?" it's the first time you've heard her speak your name for close to a year and it takes you by surprise. You've heard it hundreds of times before, you've heard it playfully called when she walked in the door, you've heard it said lovingly as you lay on the sofa on rainy Sunday afternoons, you've heard it breathed through parted lips as you bring her to the brink of ecstasy.

You've never heard your name spoken by her like you're a stranger.

You suppose you shouldn't be surprised, there are times you look in the mirror and hardly recognise yourself. Of course she looks at you and sees a stranger, it's impossible to believe that the woman who loved her more than she thought possible would ever walk out on her, walk out on them.

Only a stranger could do that.

"I wanted to explain." Your own answer surprises you, your plan coming here had never involved explaining anything, mostly because you didn't have a plan. "I need you to understand."

"Oh I understand perfectly." Her arms are crossed over a chest, mirroring the look Aubrey used to give you when she thought you were bullshitting, which was most of your freshman year. The gesture doesn't look right on her and you open your mouth to tell her so before you catch yourself.

"I don't think you do, I never meant to hurt you. I was just doing what I thought was best."

"You chose the music over me."

"Would you have chosen any differently?" the question is out of your mouth before you can stop it.

For a moment it seems she's going to kick you out, the hard line of her mouth is back and her eyes are steely, but then she sighs heavily, all of the anger leaving her body with the exhale.

"No, probably not."

The admission is muttered in defeat and you almost reach out but rein yourself in at the last second. It's not your place to comfort her anymore, you gave up that right. She's turned away from you again, hands pressed heavily against one of the crates, the bottles inside clink gently together as her hands shake.

"You didn't even consider waiting for me."

"I didn't have the time to wait, it was a once in a lifetime deal. I had to decide." You take a tentative step forwards.

"It was so easy for you to walk away." Her voice is now a whisper.

"Believe me it was the hardest thing I've ever done." Your mind flashes back to the day you left, how many times you almost turned back. "I wanted to come back as soon as I'd walked out the door."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because..."

"Yeah I know, because 'the music is everything'" She spins round, the defeated slump of her shoulders gone, anger flashing on her eyes.

"You told me you understood."

"I expected you to fight for us!" she's yelling now and part of you is relieved it bring emotion to her face and you'll gladly take it any day if it gets rid of the tired look in her eyes. "I understood that you needed to move on, what I didn't expect was for you to leave me behind, after everything we've been through."

"I was going to come back for you, I just needed time. Time to figure out what I wanted."

"I waited three years for you to figure out what you wanted." She bites back bitterly and you flinch. It's very rare for her to bring up the topic of you and Jesse, how you stayed with him for three years despite knowing you were head over heels for someone else, for her. Even when she did bring it up, it was never in anger. But now, now it's her ammunition and it's powerful hitting you like a slap to the face.

"Chlo." The nickname escapes your lips and you reach out, this time desperate to comfort her.

"No!" She jerks away from your outstretched hand. "You don't get to do that!" you drop your hand instantly but don't step back, you've reached a turning point. You can give up now and leave, turn around and leave her to her life and you go back to yours. Or you can keep going, you can keep treading further down the path that has brought you here.

This is the point of no return.

Your decision is made evident when you take a step closer.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I left you behind, I'm sorry I..."

"Don't." The single word stops your apology dead in its tracks.

"I can't do this Beca. Seeing you here it's..." She trails off, searching for the words. "...it's too hard."

You take another step forward, you're less than three feet away now, and she's so beautiful it hurts. Even with the tears shining unshed in her eyes.

"I love you." Your voice cracks with the words and you realise it's the first time you've said them in a long time. "I miss you. So much."

Her bottom lip is trembling a sure sign she's on the brink of crying, you're so close now you can feel her breath on your cheek. Your body traps her against the crates, but she can leave if she wants to, you would never make her stay.

"Tell me to leave and I will. If you can look me in the eye and tell me to go I will, I'll walk out of here and never come back. But you have to tell me." You're in no position to be making demands but you need to know. If there's no hope for you then you want to be able to walk away without prolonging the pain. You don't think your heart can take seeing her break again.

She's silent for a long time, eyes never leaving yours. You search them intently looking for any clue to what she's thinking, but it appears she's gotten good at hiding her emotions, her usually bright eyes are guarded.

You're about to retreat when she finally speaks.

"Goddammit Beca."

Before you can open your mouth to ask what she means she's surged forward, lips connecting roughly with yours, hands grasping the back of your neck painfully. Your gasp is swallowed by her kiss and she takes immediate advantage of your open mouth to slip her tongue in to tangle against your own.

It takes your brain a few precious seconds to catch up and then you're kissing her back as if she's the very air you need to breathe. It's all so familiar, like coming home after a long journey but at the same time it feels new, you've never shared a kiss like this before and as your hands find their way to her hips, pulling her closer whilst pressing her against the crates you can't help the feeling of wanting to pinch yourself, to check this is actually happening.

Suddenly you find yourself moving and then your back is being slammed against the crates, her body is pressed along the length of you and you moan at the contact. Her lips as still moving furiously against yours and it's a struggle to keep up, this kiss is messy and out of control, her hands have moved from your neck and down your arms, fingers digging into the skin. You don't protest against the pain, if anything your relish it. It's a sign she still feels something and the thought of that has you wrapping your arms round her waist as tightly as you, desperate not to let her go. You want to hold onto this for as long as you can.

You're not stupid, you know that this could end at any second and you don't want to waste it, you'll take whatever she feels like giving you.

You moan loudly when she bites down hard on your lip, hands move away from your body so she can press them into the crates on either side of you, nails gouging soft lines in the wood. You respond in kind, sinking your teeth into her lower lip, swallowing her quiet gasp before running your tongue across the site, soothing the ache.

The need to breathe finally drives you apart, although with a certain reluctance. She presses her forehead against yours, breath coming out in deep pants match your own and ghost over your face. Her eyes are squeezed tightly closed and you can feel her whole body trembling, you slide your hands round her waist, rubbing long soothing circles into her back. Her only reaction is to press your bodies that bit closer together, then her lips find yours again, a soft kiss that is barely started before she's pulling away again.

The only sound in the room is the sound of your heavy breaths as she pushes herself away from you, putting some distance between the two of you. You long to reach out and draw her back in, but you keep your hands by your sides. This is on her terms.

"I...I can't." Her voice is a croak and you're sure you can hear your heart breaking as you realise what she means.

"Chloe." Her name is a plea on your lips, the same kind of plea she made to you when you walked out all the time ago. You suppose there's some kind of poetic justice in this, how it's all come full circle except this time it's her who's walking away.

She's backing up towards the door, eyes never leaving yours as she shakes her head. There's fear in her eyes and you can tell she's not scared of leaving. She's scared that she might stay.

"Please." It's your last attempt but you know it's futile, you can see it in her face.

She pauses in the doorway, the tears flowing freely down her face. "You promised Bec." The three words are spoken softly into the room and then she's gone, leaving you alone with your shattered heart and the memory of her kiss burning your lips.

You shouldn't have been here, you promised to stay away. But with her staying away was never an option.

Well I hope you enjoyed that, let me know what you thought by leaving a review. Should it be a one shot or would you like to see it continued? I can tell you that if you'd like to see it continued the second part would contain drunk angry Chloe, kisses in the rain and maybe more than a little smut! ;) Anyway let me know! Until next time!

Pirate-x-Girls