A/N: This was inspired by a vacation I took with my family a few months ago.

Chapter 1

It was move-in day at UCLA. Just about all of the freshmen were excited to begin this new chapter in their lives. There was at least one person not excited at all, though.

Beca Mitchell reluctantly took her suitcase to her dorm room. She'd only agreed to go to college after her father had made it clear he would only continue to support her financially if she were enrolled in college. He was a comparative literature professor, so her tuition was free. Beca had wanted to be a singer, but she knew she couldn't be a starving artist for long.

Beca was petite with brown hair, grey-blue eyes, pale skin, an ear spike in one ear, and several tattoos. She liked to wear heavy eyeliner because she felt it made her look badass. She'd been small her entire life, and she'd dealt with people treating her like she was much younger than she was. It was just her way of making it clear to others that she was not a delicate little flower.

She walked into her dorm and saw a heavy set blonde had already begun to move in and decorate her side of the room with various pictures of dingoes and kangaroos.

The girl introduced herself before Beca could speak. "I'm Fat Amy, you must be Beca," she said with a thick Australian accent.

"You call yourself Fat Amy?" asked Beca.

She nodded. "Yeah, so twig bitches like you don't do it behind my back."

Beca raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She could have sworn in the back of her mind that her school paperwork said her roommate's name was Patricia.

She began to unpack her things when she heard a knock at the door.

"Hey, this is Campus Police, hide your wine coolers!"

The door opened, and in walked Dr. Mitchell. He smiled, and said, "Haha! Just your old man making a funny."

Beca rolled her eyes, turned back to her unpacking and said, "Chris Rock, everybody."

He turned to Fat Amy, and said, "Hey, you must be Beca's roommate. I'm Dr. Mitchell, Beca's dad. I teach comparative literature here."

"I'm Fat Amy. I'm the best singer in Tasmania. With teeth."

Not knowing how to respond, Beca's dad turned back to her and said, "So, when did you get here? How did you get here?"

"I took a cab. I didn't want to inconvenience you and Sheila. How is the stepmonster?"

"She is fine, thank you for asking. She-"

Beca cut him off. "No, Dad, I don't actually care. I just wanted to say 'stepmonster.'"

Dr. Mitchell changed the subject. "So, have you guys been out on the quad yet? In the springtime, all the students study on the grass."

"I don't wanna study on the grass, Dad. I want to get signed by a record label as a singer."

"Here we go again. Beca, only very few people ever get a job as a professional singer, and so many become one-hit wonders. You need a college education to fall back on in case you being a 'pop star' doesn't work out. You're getting a college education, for free, I might add. End of story." He'd done air quotes when saying the words "pop star," making Beca roll her eyes.

"I'm going to the activities fair," said Fat Amy.

"Me too," said Beca. "I'm going to the activities fair with my super good friend, Fat Amy."

Beca walked to the activities fair. Fat Amy had run off to the a capella section. Beca thought a capella singing was lame, so she let Fat Amy go off by herself. She walked around, looking at the different clubs, and she saw one with rainbow flags on the table.

She cautiously walked up to the students and was greeted by a very friendly African American woman with very short hair and a bright smile. "Hi! Any interest in joining QA?" Beca smiled back. She'd discovered a few years ago that she was gay, but she'd never really been "out" back in high school. There had been girls in her high school that had caught her eye, but she had never tried to pursue any of them. If "gaydar" was a thing, Beca didn't think she had it. She'd told her mother, as the two had grown close after her father left, but her mother was the only person to whom she'd said the words aloud.

"Umm...what?"

"I saw you looking at the rainbow flags. Anyone is welcome to join – gay, bi, straight, pan, non-binary, trans, and anywhere in between."

"Oh," said Beca, taking the flyer the woman had placed in her hand.

"My name's Cynthia Rose, but you can call me CR. Over here is my girlfriend, Denise," she said, nodding toward a brunette with brown eyes who was also handing out flyers.

"Hi," said Beca. She could feel the women assessing her.

"Let me guess, not 'out' yet?" asked Denise, quietly. Beca shook her head.

"Well, this is a great place to get support. Not all of us are out either, and we all understand."

"It's also a great place to meet girls," CR added. "That's where I met Denise." Denise blushed as CR planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Meetings start next Tuesday," said Denise. "We have a big event planned for National Coming Out Day. You don't have to come out, though, if you don't want to."

"I'll think about it," said Beca. "It was really nice to meet you guys."

Beca went back to her dorm, putting the flyer in her desk. She wasn't sure about the Queer Alliance, but she thought she'd consider it if she was going to be stuck in college for a while.

Fat Amy walked in. "So, QA, huh?"

Beca didn't realize Amy had seen her at the table. She thought she'd try to play it off. "Oh, I was just..."

"It's cool, Beca. I don't mind being roomies with someone who likes to dive into the 'lady pool.' At least you won't be stealing my boyfriends."

"Well, yeah, no danger of that," said Beca. "So, you're okay with having a gay roommate?"

Amy shrugged. "Sure, just warn me if you bring a girl back here."

"Yeah, I don't think I-"

"And I'll try to warn you if I bring one of my boyfriends over. But if you see a sock on the door, you might want to knock first."

"Gross."

"I'm like a free-range pony, I can't be tied down."

"That doesn't even make any-"

"So, that's settled. No sex in the dorm room while the other one is here. And, I, for the record, am not into the ladies. You're cute, but-"

"Amy, it's fine. I won't hit on you. I promise," said Beca. This roommate of mine is so weird, she thought.

"So, have you been to Santa Monica Pier?" asked Fat Amy.

"No, why?" asked Beca, confused by the abrupt change in subject.

"I was there the other day, and they have street performers. I bet it would be a great way to get discovered since you want to be a singer and all. And, if you really like singing, you could audition for one of the a capella groups."

"First off, 'no' to a capella, it's not my thing. But what is this about street performing?"

"There are singers and magicians and everything up and down the boardwalk. It's LA, so maybe you'll get lucky. You could at least make some money from tips."

"So, I just go there, and sing? And put a hat or something out for tips?"

"I think so."

This may be the first thing I've heard out of Amy's mouth that has actually made sense, Beca thought. She decided she'd better look up the rules for street performing. Something told her she'd be the unlucky one to get busted for street performing, and her dad would never let her hear the end of it if he had to bail her out of jail.

She and Fat Amy headed to the dining hall to get some dinner. While Fat Amy was definitely a person who marched to the beat of her own drum, Beca couldn't help liking the girl. It didn't hurt that Fat Amy had immediately accepted Beca's sexuality, probably more easily than Beca had accepted it herself.

After dinner, Fat Amy and Beca parted ways. Beca wanted to finish unpacking, and Fat Amy said something about going out with one of her boyfriends. Beca just hoped if Fat Amy was serious, she wouldn't be kicked out of her dorm on her first night.

Beca turned on her laptop and looked up Santa Monica Pier. She was relieved to find that it was legal to perform on the boardwalk, but she had to get a permit. She resolved to look into that as soon as possible. While she didn't know whether or not someone would discover her, it was at least a good way to earn some spending cash. She could start and stop whenever she wanted, and it sounded like more fun than flipping burgers.

Her phone buzzed with a text from her dad.

Dr. Dad: How's your first night going? Off to any parties?
BM: No, Dad. I just finished unpacking.
Dr. Dad: Did you find anything you liked at the fair? You really should put yourself out there and join a club, now that you're in college.
BM: Dad, it's the first day on campus. But I think I found something.
Dr. Dad: That's great, Bec! What are you joining?
BM: I think I'm joining QA.

Beca waited to see if her father would respond. She hadn't exactly wanted to tell him over text, but she could never find the words when she saw him in person. It didn't help that he and her mother had divorced several years ago, and he'd moved 1000 miles away from Beca and her mother in Seattle. She'd hardly seen him since the divorce. She was forced to spend certain holidays with him and a bit of time in the summer, but the distance had made regular visits impossible.

After a few minutes, her father called her cell.

"Bec?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"QA, the Queer Alliance, huh? Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Beca swallowed hard. "Yeah, Dad. I...I like girls, Dad. And, just girls. I'm gay."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Dad, I've hardly seen you since you left me and Mom."

"Okay, I deserve that. Does your mother know?"

"Yes."

"So, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, Dad."

"Well, I hope you bring her to meet me when you do."

"That's it?"

"Beca, I just want you to be happy. I don't care who you love as long as you're happy."

"Thanks, Dad."

She chatted for a bit, getting suckered into visiting her dad and the stepmonster for dinner the next day, and then told her father she had to finish unpacking.

This sure had been an interesting day. She'd quadrupled the number of people who knew she was gay, and it had turned out fine. She had possibly the strangest person on the planet for a roommate, but she seemed harmless. This strange person had given her an excellent idea for a job that might even work out to her getting discovered by someone at a record label.

If she was going to be stuck in college for a while, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

A/N: The Queer Alliance is a real club at UCLA. I learned from a commenter on AO3 that it is usually abbreviate, QA for short.