Hi everyone ! First Bechloe fic I'm posting out here, I'm not nervous at all, ha! This takes place five years after PP2, and PP3 never happened. Hope you enjoy it.

Warning: This story deals with domestic abuse.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect or its characters. If I did, Bechloe would have been canon, obvs.

Beca feels chills going down her spine as she fiddles with the knobs on her mixing board, a satisfying smile breaking onto her face as her eyes move back and forth between the sea of people dancing below her platform and her board.

She's made it. It's been five years since she graduated from Barden and for the last two years she's been able to live from her passion: making music. Although her life is more than hectic, she enjoys every second of it and wouldn't change it for the world.

Her tour coming to an end, she has been called to attend gigs at several up-and-coming clubs in NYC before she goes home to LA. She spent the last six months touring the country after the release of her latest album, which has her up for Best Artist of the Year at the upcoming Grammys a few weeks from now.

Her set is coming to an end and as usual, she closes it with her Titanium/Bulletproof, a mix she made back in Barden with hers and Chloe's voice. She didn't need much to convince Chloe to come record the cover with her in the studio. As a thank you, she gave Chloe said mix as a present on the redhead's last day at Barden.

As Chloe's voice drifts through the speakers, Beca cannot help but feel her chest constrict. Oddly, it feels both bitter and soothing to listen to that mix.

Too focused on mixing, Beca usually doesn't really focus on the crowd. However, spotting a flash of red hair on the corner of her eyes, she can't help but do a double-take. The woman swaying on the dance floor has the exact same hair color as Chloe's (Beca's eyes having learned to spot that shade from a hundred yards) and the same height. Beca stares, her teeth sinking into the inside of her cheek, anxiously waiting for the woman to turn around so she can see her face properly.

When, after several seconds have ticked by, she finally does, Beca feels the weight of disappointment settling in her gut. Her eyes drift over the dancefloor, locking on a blonde who is dancing on her own to the beat. Since becoming kind of famous, Beca rarely goes home alone after a set.

Said blonde spins around and Beca feels the oxygen leave her lungs. Familiar crystal blue eyes meet hers, and they stare at each other for several seconds. Beca waits with bated breath, expecting Chloe to vanish in the air and the whole scene to belong to another one of her fantasies. She blinks several times, making sure her brain is not tricking her, and pinches herself. Chloe is still there, but a moment later however, just as the song wears out, she's led off the dance floor by a tall man, and toward the exit.

It's not like Beca can cut off the song and run after her. So she painfully waits until the last note before all but throwing her headphones -yes, her super expensive headphones- onto her board and moving to exit the booth. Her steps halter however, when she realizes she hasn't even thanked the crowd. Walking back to her mic, she hurriedly says goodnight, ignoring the demand for an encore, and rushes out of the small space.

"Beca!" A guy she recognizes as the club manager is suddenly in front of her, both hands clasped on her shoulders. Beca tries to avoid cringing at the interruption and the unnecessary physical contact. She has always been awkward when it comes to people touching her, although Chloe literally barreled through those barriers over the years at Barden. "What an amazing set!"

"Um, thanks." She replies, trying to look past him. There are so many people on the dancefloor that she has lost sight of her friend. She feels panic rush into her limbs, her eyes moving from left to right, not knowing where to focus.

"Let me get you a drink," Owen, at least she thinks that's his name, offers, leading her to the bar with a hand on the small of her back.

"Yeah, can you give me a minute?" Beca says, already half-turned toward the exit. "I just need some fresh air first."

"Sure, no problem."

The DJ smiles tightly in response and walks around the dance floor, spotting from afar a blonde going toward the doors. She marches to them and mumbles a thanks at the bouncer when he pushes them open for her.

"Chloe!" She shouts to the couple walking away. "Chloe, wait!"

The other woman turns and Beca feels slightly lightheaded when those blue eyes meet hers once more. The short woman closes the distance between herself and her friend, shamelessly ignoring the guy who is obviously Chloe's date when she finally makes a stop in front of them.

Chloe visibly pales, her eyes briefly looking at her date before settling on Beca. "Beca, hi,"

"What, you were just gonna leave without saying hi?" Beca internally cringes at her way of greeting Chloe, but she cannot bite back the harsh words.

"I know, I'm-"

"Hi, I'm Greg," a hand is thrust in front of Beca, and she takes a step back, frowning slightly at the intrusion. "Chloe's husband."

While Beca has never been punched in the guts before, she can tell right now what it must feel like. Difficulty breathing, anger flaring, desire to clock the guy right back.

"You must be Beca, Chloe has told me about you. It's nice to finally meet you."

Beca doesn't like his ton, nor does she like his flawless features or the way his arm settled around Chloe's hips after hearing who she is.

Without returning the sentiment, Beca shakes his hand reluctantly and looks at Chloe, who has yet to say something. Her eyes seem to be stuck on the ground and she is fiddling with her hands.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Beca requests. "Alone?" she adds, when Greg doesn't seem to budge.

The man smiles and nods, before dropping a kiss to the crown of Chloe's head and whispering something that Beca can't make out in her ear. His arm lets go of her waist, his hand squeezing Chloe's upper arm before it slips away. He takes a few steps back and busies himself with hailing a cab.

"I'm sorry, Beca," Chloe murmurs, hesitantly meeting the DJ's eyes.

Beca can't stop the laugh before it's past her lips. "For what, coming to one of my gigs and not bothering to say hello or for the last four years where you ignored my texts and calls?"

"Both, I guess. Look, I've been really busy here in New York and-"

The brunette scoffs, rolling her eyes. "That's rich, Chlo. You were my best friend and you just disappeared off the face of the earth."

Beca acknowledges the tears filling Chloe's eyes but can't find it in herself to pity her. "I'm so sorry."

The petite woman clenches her teeth, her nails digging into her palms to keep herself from getting emotional. "Was it something I did?"

"No!" Chloe cuts her off hastily. "You did nothing wrong."

"Chloe, honey, the cab's waiting," What's-his-face calls out from a few feet away, bracing himself against the cab's open door.

"Can't you stay for one drink? I can have my driver drop you back at your place," Beca says, hating the way her voice sounds. It's cracking with the emotion of seeing Chloe for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

Chloe looks back to her husband and bites her bottom lip, turning to Beca, "I-I can't. Not tonight."

Deep down, Beca knows she should walk away, far from the woman who has caused her such heartache. However, she chooses to ignore that little voice inside her head and lets her heart be the decision maker. Because that's the sensible thing to do.

"I'm here until the end of next week. Here's my number, so if you ever want to explain yourself and catch up, call me." She reaches inside her back pocket and hands Chloe a card. "I still care about you, you know. I've missed you."

A sob escapes Chloe's throat before she can stop it and and she gives Beca a watery half-smile. "I've missed you too, Bec. So much."

The familiar nickname has Beca's throat shrink and she nods. Chloe walks to her husband, and Beca doesn't miss the look he gives her over Chloe's shoulder, and it's not one bit friendly.

The next morning, Beca wakes up with a pouding head and a warm body pressed against her back. Her face scrunches up; obviously the only rule she lives by hasn't been respected.

"Hey," she whispers to the woman next to her, slightly shaking her shoulder. "You have to go."

Sure, she knows it makes her a jerk, but she doesn't like it when one night stands stuck around for too long. Even worse, when they cuddle her. She doesn't do breakfast in bed or that kind of shit that could ever lead to the other person developing feelings and wanting to go steady.

"Mmm," the blonde hums, rubbing her eyes with a smile on her face. "Morning."

"Yeah, morning." Beca replies absently. "I think your clothes are in the living room."

"Right," she slurs this time, her hand running up and down Beca's arm. "Where you proceeded to rip them off last night."

Beca cringes. "Mmm."

"Do you want to go at it before I leave?"

Beca sighs. "Not to offend you or anything, but I have a lot of shit to do today so... I'll call you a cab."

After she has finally managed to make the girl leave, Beca reaches for her phone, deep down hoping for a text or call from Chloe. She sighs when her screen only shows a few texts from other friends and from the club manager congratulating on the success of her gig last night.

She swipes her finger on the screen to unlock it and dials a number.

"Is Jesse not picking up his phone?" chirps the oh so gentle voice of her ex-captain on the other end.

Beca frowns, "What? Why?"

"I figured you were calling me because you couldn't reach Jesse."

Beca scoffs, "I call you from time to time... I think."

Aubrey laughs softy. "I'm just messing with you, Beca. You usually text, so this is probably important?"

"I saw Chloe last night," Beca blurts out, and is only met with silence. "Aubrey?"

Aubrey has dropped the playful tone when she speaks again, "You did? Where? How is she?"

"Outside the club I was mixing at. She was actually leaving and hadn't bothered to come and see me at the end of my set, I had to run after her. Aubrey, she got married."

Beca hears nothing on the other line for several seconds. Aubrey and Chloe were best friends for such a long time, and the fact that Chloe got married without Aubrey attending obviously crushes the blonde.

"What?" Beca hears Aubrey's voice crack. "To whom?"

"Um, some guy named Greg. But something was off about her. I mean, we only talked for a minute, but she wasn't her bubbly self."

"Are you going to see her again?"

Beca rubs her forehead, "I left her my number but I doubt she'll be calling me. And you know her old number is disconnected. If she doesn't call, there's no other way I can contact her. When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"A little under four years ago, I think. Last I heard she was a music teacher at a high school in NYC."

Even if Beca decides to find her, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

She sighs and closes her eyes. "Right. I'll tell you if she does call me."

"Thanks, Beca. Talk to you soon."

Beca ends the call and falls back onto her bed, dropping her phone next to her. While she feels slightly hungover, her mind is reeling, going back to her talk with Chloe the night before. She waits for a few seconds, eyes focused on the ceiling fan to try and just stop thinking about it, before she reaches for her phone and speed dials #2.

"Becaw,"

Beca rolls her eyes at the old nickname. "Hey dude. Where are you?"

"Working. Some people have to actually do that, y'know. Not everyone can afford to wake up in luxurious hotel room every day."

"Whatever, I work my ass off and you know it. That's the reason I can actually give you a paycheck at the end of the month."

Jesse chuckles, "So easy to bust your balls. What's up?"

"I saw Chloe last night."

"Chloe Beale?"

"Yes, the only Chloe we both know, Jesse." Her tone is way too bitter, and Beca hates the way she sounds.

"Dude, take a chill pill. Did you see her at the club?"

Beca sighs, her fingers playing with the hem of a cushion. "Yeah. Well, outside actually. She was gonna leave without even saying hello."

"What'd you tell her?"

"I asked her where she had been for the last four years. She said she was sorry and she was busy and... God, I'm so mad!" Beca breathes heavily for a few seconds, and she clutches the cushion to her chest as if to give her strength to utter the next words. "And she's married."

"To a guy?"

"Yes, to a guy named Greg. Chloe's straight."

"That we know of. We would have had more information about that had you admitted your feelings for her five years ago."

"Fuck you." Beca bites out. "Y'know what, if you're just gonna kick me while I'm down, I can just-"

"Jeez, calm down. I'm sorry, alright? Okay, so Chloe's married, you're mad because she hasn't called or texted in the last four years, and you still have feelings for her."

"I don't still have feelings for her!" Beca cries out. "I haven't seen her in five freaking years."

"Okay, whatever you say."

"She said she's missed me. She didn't seem okay, Jesse, I- maybe I was too hard on her."

"What makes you say that? Her not seeming okay, that is."

Beca thinks for a moment. "She wasn't her bubbly self. She didn't even try to hug me, goddammit."

"That's saying something. Are you going to see her again?"

"I gave her my number. But I have no way of contacting her."

"Did you want to see her again?"

Beca is silent for a while, debating whether or not she still wants that. "Yeah. I guess I do. I at least want an explanation, y'know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Keep me posted, okay?"

"I will. Thanks Jesse. I'll see you when I get back, yeah?"

"Alright, see ya."

Two days later, Beca still hasn't heard from Chloe and she's supposed to go back to LA in a few days. The woman has been on Beca's mind for the last couple days, as she kept replaying the conversation in her head. As Beca leaves the Radio Free Brooklyn building after an interview, she feels her phone buzz and looks at it hopefully. Her face drops when she sees it's only a text from Jesse.

Still no news?

She grinds her teeth in frustration and quikly replies, No

Would you go see her if you knew where she was?

What kind of question is that?

Just answer it. Do you wanna see her?

Of course I do.

Her married name is Chloe Logan, she works as a music teacher at Hunter College High School.

Beca actually stops in the middle of crossing the street and reads the text over and over again to make sure her brain isn't messing with her. After being shouted at by a taxi driver, she jogs to the opposite sidewalk and speed dials Jesse.

"The hell?" she says as soon as she hears him pick up.

"Nice to hear you voice too, Becaw."

"I don't know if I should be happy or creeped that you found that info?"

"You know I like to play detective."

Beca rolls her eyes. "Right, Ted Mosby. Not that I'm not thankful, but how'd you do it?"

"Well, as your agent, I was able to call the club manager for your gig on friday night and ask that he send me the guest list for the event. Since it was a private event, they had to have a guest list. I found a Gregory and Chloe Logan. Dude, he's like the New York County DA or something. With her married name, I managed to find Chloe's LinkedIn page, and called the high school asking to speak with her. They said she wasn't in today but that I could call back tomorrow."

"Wow. I'm officialy freaked out," Beca teases. "But thank you for this, Jesse."

"Phew, I thought you would be mad at me for doing this behind your back."

Beca chuckles as she continues down the street. "Nah, you're fine."

Soon they switch to work mode, Jesse asking her how her interview went and reminding her of her next appointments in the Big Apple. When she hangs up, the clock on her phone tells her it's already 6.30 pm. Too dead on her feet to do any sightseeing, she decides to call it a day.

Beca tucks her phone into her back pocket and hails a cab to go back to her hotel. She orders in, takes a shower and watches a few episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S on Netflix while eating her food, before going to bed. After checking her twitter and instagram, she can't resist opening up her personal facebook and typing Chloe Logan in the search bar. Chloe Beale disappeared from social media a while ago, Beca has checked countless times.

Her research comes up empty, so she erases it and types Gregory Logan instead. A few profiles pop up, and she scrolls down until she comes upon a familiar face next to a redhead. She clicks on it, cursing when she sees his account is set to private. She is still able to enlarge his profile pic though, her throat cloging with a familiar heaviness as Chloe's wedding photo stares back at her.

She doesn't bother looking more closely at what's-his-face, prefering to scan Chloe's instead. Beca feels that familiar pang it causes her heart. Chloe looks stunning. Her blue eyes stand out more than ever, and her hair is pulled back from her face in a loose bun. She looks so happy, as much as Beca selfishly hates to admit it.

Beca's eyes drift aside the photo; Chloe is not tagged on it, and she doesn't see any comment from her on the picture. Sighing, Beca shuts her computer and gets ready for bed. After turning off the lights however, she grows fidgety, going over what could happen the following day, and the things she would say to Chloe if the former actually agrees to talk to her.

Eventually, sleep overtakes her.

"Say, who's this Beca?" While Chloe thought she could avoid this conversation, she was wrong. Greg didn't mention it when they came back from that clu the other night. Her step falters, thinking about the right words. They have just got home from a work thing, and Chloe was removing her shoes when her husband's voice stopped her movements.

"She's an old friend from college," The blonde replies as she pads barefoot toward their bedroom at the end of the hall. She hears Greg's heavy footsteps behind her and rolls her eyes. "We were in acapella together."

She turns on the lights and walks to their ensuite bathroom, where she begins to take off her jewelry. Greg follows, stopping in the doorway and leaning against the door frame. She looks at him briefly as his fingers work to undo the cuffs of his shirt.

"Ah, the infamous acapella club," he whistles lowly, and she knows he's mocking her. Chloe purses her lips, deciding it's best to say nothing, and takes off her earrings. She sets them in the box that's on the shelf next to the faucet and watches through the mirror as Greg comes to stand behind her, his hands on her hips. "Were you two close?"

"Not particularly."

"Really?" he raises an eyebrow at her. Chloe feels her heartbeat quicken and she wills it to simmer down before he notices. "Because she looked like someone had just kicked her puppy when I told her I was your husband. You seem pretty important to her."

"I haven't seen her in five years, Greg." Chloe says with a sigh. "It doesn't matter, she means nothing to me."

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

The words taste like poison on her tongue, but Greg's next move conforts her in her decision to lie.

"Okay," Greg's tone is light, his grip on her hips loosening, and Chloe breathes out. "So you're not gonna use that card she gave you?"

"No."

"Good," he whispers into her ear, his front pressing into her back. "You know I don't like to share you."

Chloe doesn't say anything in return, simply casting her gaze down to her hands. She inhales when he pulls away from her and walks out of the bathroom. His scent, words and touch linger long after he's gone, like little puppets he controls when he's not here, trapping Chloe's mind in an invisible prison.