Get a Job by aZephy

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"Beca," Chloe began, eyeing the scattered packets strewn haphazardly across the living room carpet, "you need to stop eating so much. And even if all our crisp packets suddenly disappear from the cupboards, I'd prefer to find them in the bin, and not as carpet adornments." She crossed the room and poked at the unresponsive figure on the couch.

Beca waved her hand away and huffed. "Well, what else are you supposed to do when you're unemployed and bored out of your brains?"

"Well, Beca, for a start, you should tidy up the mess you made – this should occupy you for a reasonably long time. And seeing as you are unemployed, common sense dictates you should get a job." Beca groaned and Chloe sighed. "Look, Beca, you knew the music industry was hard to break into. That's why your dad told you to get a stable job before considering becoming a music producer. In case things don't work out, you have something to fall back to." As a protest itched to escape Beca's mouth, Chloe silenced her and continued, "I'm not being unsupportive. I've been with you every step of the three years we have spent together. Just – Just think about things alright? You don't need to have a fancy job – just something to keep you on your toes and give you a steady income."

"Chlo…"

"Beca, just think about it." She walked back into the kitchen, though not before pausing and saying over her shoulder, "Get cleaning, darling." She chortled when Beca growled at the pet name.

"You're going to regret this, Red!"

"Looking forward to it."

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And so, following the wise words of one Chloe Beale, Beca decided to hunt around for jobs. Well, at least she tried to – when Chloe was around. It was the thought that counted, right? She always kept the stack of job advertisements nearby, and when she spotted the conspicuous flaming hair, she'd quickly whip one out and pretend to read. It wasn't too hard, she thought, smirking behind a pamphlet for a janitorial position, at least not for the extraordinarily sneaky, sly –

"Hmm, Beca Mitchell, you could've fooled me." Beca's eyes widened as she heard Chloe behind her. Taking advantage of her momentary shock, Chloe swiped the pamphlet and skimmed over it thoughtfully. "Interesting, Beca."

"What?" Had she been caught? There was no way Chloe could have known, she'd been pretend-reading pamphlets since she heard the jingle of Chloe's keys in the door!

"I had no idea you were interested in," Chloe squinted at the small font, "a full-time janitorial position at Walmart."

Darn it, she should have read what she was pretend-reading! "Um, yes?"

"Definitely. So, Miss Wakes-up-at-noon, how would you work from 8 a.m. to 11 p.m?"

"I…" Think, Beca, think, Beca. "I wasn't up to that part yet."

"You, Beca Mitchell, have some very strange reading habits. You were holding this thing for ten minutes straight, and you're telling me that you haven't even read the first paragraph?" Instead of looking furious, Chloe smirked amusedly at her.

"Well, I tend to skip a lot of things…"

"Just be honest, Beca. You haven't really been looking for a job for the past three days, am I right?" Chloe asked, although she knew the answer already.

"I… yeah."

The redhead knelt down, and clasped Beca's hands in her own. "Make an effort – for me, please?" That look – that look.

"I…" Stop looking at me like that, Beca screamed mentally. Unable to refuse, she sighed, "Okay, then."

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And thanks (no thanks, Beca growled) to one redhead's incessant nagging, Beca Mitchell soon landed on her arse as a freaking waitress in a fancy café. Chloe had come for her first shift as a customer, 'just to scare those nerves away', despite Beca's insistences that she didn't come anywhere near her when she was serving the worst punishment known to mankind. Her manager had impossibly high expectations of her, and as soon as she escaped this hellhole, she'd make him 'smile prettily all day' until his jaws were begging for mercy, hold a 100-pound leaden decorative tray until he couldn't feel his arms anymore and squeeze him into frilly pink dresses that would make him beg for an iron corset! And she would be laughing at him every, single, second, she murderously thought, watching the man himself.

And Chloe of course, being the supportive girlfriend, had unsuccessfully tried to stifle her giggles when she saw Beca emerge from the changerooms. "You need a tiara and fairy wings to go with that." Seeing Beca's scowl, she added, "Remember, Rebeca, you must smile prettily!" before guffawing loudly.

She was assigned to specific tables, and was ordered to arrange the napkins and cutlery accordingly each time a guest left. It wasn't exactly her fault that there were sometimes two forks on a napkin and she didn't get the right size spoon. Teaspoons and tablespoons looked the same to her. By two o'clock, she wanted to scrawl obscene pictures all over the checkered pink cloth.

The following days were no better. She was tired after the first hour – her entire body, especially her jaw, arms, legs and midsection, was aching. The smile was glued to her face, but her eyes were gleaming menacingly and so dangerously that customers preferred to wait instead of sit at her tables. Damn the tips, she thought, I just want to get the hell out of here, as she clutched one of the knifes tightly.

Beca had lasted two weeks in that job, much to her delight. However, just for the sake of it, she confronted the manager and asked him why he had 'dismissed her from his staff'. He'd said, raking his eyes over her body, "Look, love, you've got it all in the looks department, but your attitude is a problem. You're scaring everyone, and I can't make any profit from them, can I? Sorry, love, but that's how it's gotta be." He licked his lips, "Or maybe…" Before he could say anything else, Beca had punched him square in jaw, not wanting to hear what he was about to say, and walked out the café door, though not without 'accidentally' knocking over the stacked chairs.

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"Well, that was a disaster," Chloe commented. "Though I miss seeing you in that dress. Quite adorable."

"Shut it, Red."

"Good thing you scared the customers away though, if you stayed there any longer, he might have done something to you. You said he acted like a pervert, right?"

"Yeah."

"And if he did anything to you, he would never see his precious jewels again!" Chloe declared.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't have put in me in this situation in the first place."

"Alright, Becs. Next one, we'll inspect all the employees and employers and make sure none of them are perverts."

"That's not what I meant! I meant: No. More. Jobs."

Chloe kissed her nose before saying, "Keep telling yourself that, Becs. We're going to bring out the efficient worker from within you."

"You keep telling yourself that, Red."

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The next job was in a bookstore with a musty smell. The owner was a frightening, elderly woman, whose wardrobe consisted of brown and a sickening shade of green. The shop was located on a quiet street, wedged between a restaurant and toy store. No perverted managers and no ridiculous expectations. Beca's issue with this one? Dust, raining books and a little thing called a hearing aid.

On her first day, Chloe and Beca walked into the store, the latter scowling as she tugged at her tight blouse. "Not bad," Chloe remarked, "I don't think there are any perverts camping around here."

"Hmph." This better be worth it, Chloe Beale!

"Welcome to Classic Literature." A small woman emerged from the atrocious curtains behind the desk, with a pile of books perched precariously in her small hands. Beca's eyes widened as the woman carried them with seeming ease to the counter, where they landed with a loud thump. Oblivious to her stare, the woman adjusted her glasses and smiled, her dentures gleaming. "What can I do for you, today?"

Chloe nudged Beca, urging her to reply. When she was met with silence, Chloe quickly said, "My girlfriend is here for the job."

"Eh, speak up, would you?"

She repeated it, more loudly.

"Your whirl fried is ears for the knob?" The lady frowned for a moment. "I can't say I've ever heard of a whirl fried. And my knob is perfectly fine, thank you very much."

Shouting this time, she said, "No, no. I said, my girlfriend is here for the job." She made sure to enunciate each word very carefully.

"Oh, I see. Your girlfriend is here for the job?" Chloe nodded. "I'm Ms Strongarm. Pardon me, I can't find my hearing aid, and my lip-reading abilities are getting rather rusty. So, now, Rebeca Mitchell? That is you, correct?" She reached into a box labelled 'Applications', and held up the form. She was very aptly named, Beca thought.

"Yes." Shrewd green eyes studied her with such intensity it made Beca flinch. The brunette glanced at Chloe for support, but the redhead had disappeared down the aisles. Her eyes returned to her employer, and a niggling feeling told her that this woman was not someone to be messed with. She might not have been able to hear a stampede of horses next to her, but those eyes looked like they could detect a needle in an entire barn of haystacks. Beca gulped.

"Alright, young lady, have you read what this job entails?"

"I…" Dammit, Beca panicked, Chloe was the one who read the pamphlet. "Um... yes." The woman raised an eyebrow, as if in disbelief, but after what seemed like eternity, she smiled. Clapping her hands together once (Beca thought she might become as deaf as her boss), she announced, "Get started, Rebeca!" Chloe mouthed, 'good luck' before the little bell's jingle signalled her leave.

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When she arrived home, Chloe looked up from her laptop and asked, "How's work?"

"Not too bad. All I had to do was sort books in alphabetical order. Man, that woman is really scary when she wants to be! Other than that, it's fine."

"Sounds good."

"You know what? I actually might last." Chloe smiled at that.

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She had said that too soon. Her workload became considerably larger as the days passed. Towering stacks of seemingly ancient volumes loomed before her each day. She couldn't even make out half of the faded letters on their spines, and every time she placed a book into its allocated shelf or down beside her for later sorting, the dust particles would swirl around her, irritating her nose and eyes. This often resulted in a sneezing bout and her clutching onto one of the shelves to maintain her balance. And, probably because the bookshelf gods wanted to spite her, the bookshelves swayed each time, the volumes raining down on her. Beca, being thankfully small, managed to dodge the cascades of classics before Romeo and Juliet could permanently concuss her. To make matters worse, she was always met with Strongarm's steely gaze afterwards which scared the daylights out of her.

She had to fetch the fold-up ladder to reach the higher shelves, all the while cursing the bookshelf gods and Shakespeare's colourful arse, which elicited strange looks from the few customers. It had been exactly fifteen days until Strongarm pointedly said to her, as she handed Beca the cheque, "Shakespeare was one of the best playwrights in history, and I will not have you cursing his arse, or how he chose to decorate it. Your bookshelf gods might be able to help appreciation of books, but until you can fully appreciate the wonders of literature, I do not want you to step in here again. Being able to fully appreciate the value of books was part of the job requirements. Understood?" Beca wondered how loudly she must have sworn if Strongarm was able to hear them. Or maybe she had a hearing filter for all things literature.

"Yes, Mrs Strongarm."

"Pardon? Speak up!"

Beca, noticing the gleaming silver device on the desk, picked it up and practically threw it at Strongarm. "I think you might need this," she said over her shoulder before marching out.

As soon as she stepped out, she let out a sigh of relief, reuniting with her daylights. She would never be able to look at another book the same again.

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Beca heard the familiar jingle of keys at the front door later that night. Chloe was going to be mad. I'd better enjoy the moment while it lasts, she sighed, licking her spoon clean.

"Beca?! How'd you get home so quickly?"

"Got fired," she mumbled, scooping out another spoon of Ben and Jerry's.

"What?"

"I got fired!" Beca yelled back.

"Oh. I thought you said it was going to last." She felt the couch sink from the extra weight as Chloe settled down beside her. "At least it lasted one more day than the last job." Beca waited for the lecture, but it never came.

"I told you me getting a job was a bad idea."

"You gotta try, Becs." You submitted your application for the internship at… what was it? Loving Records?"

"Lovett Records. Yeah, I haven't got a reply yet."

"Well, until you get that internship, you need a job. I can't be the only one working, Beca. We need to do our fair shares. I've been supporting you constantly with two jobs for three years. We can't rely on your dad all the time. To get a job is to show you care. C'mon, Beca."

She was guilt-tripping her. It was unfair, but true. She'd been trying so hard to break into the music industry while Chloe was left to support the two of them in their small apartment.

"Ugh! Fine, I'll find another job! Just no more books and old women who could've given Voldemort a run for his money."

"Deal."

"And tell me what's in the job description first before letting me sign up for it please."

"You'll have to read it yourself."

"I hate you."

"I love you too, Becs."

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Please read and review!

Thanks,

~aZephy~