A/N: Thank you for all the follows and favorites, you are all aca-amazing! I'm sorry for the delay in the update, I was sidetracked by two other BeChloe pieces I've started. I wanted to get a little of it down while it was in my head, but never fear, though life and work is picking up, updates to this will follow regularly until all is resolved, and while it will come to a close soon enough, there will be other wonderful journies for our girls, so we can all sigh with relief at that small comfort! :)

Beca was still reeling from her encounter with Chloe. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she stormed across campus to find Jesse, her boots pounding a steady bass rhythm against the sidewalk. What Chloe had said to her had left her numb, the confusion sent her head spinning, and she was still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. When she got Aubrey's text, she assumed that it was because Chloe had figured out that she had been the one making her the mixes. Nervous but excited, she left her room with a bounce in her step, and ended up colliding with the redhead in the stairwell. Unlike the previous collision that ended with awkward laughter and bonding, this was like two opposite measures in two different songs mashing up to a disharmonic melody of anger and hurt. The only words spoken were from Chloe, and Beca was so stunned that she only remembered bits and pieces.

"What the hell Beca, I thought we were...friends!" The last word was spit with venom, and her eyes burned with pain. The words stung Beca like a verbal slap to her heart, and she did what she does best. Beca Mitchell shut down. A lifetime of people she loved constantly disappointing her had acclimated her to situations such as this, and as a self defense mechanism, she crawled behind her hastily constructed walls and she tightly clenched her jaw, eyes defiant at Chloe's statement.

"Those things..." Chloe took a breath as her voice wavered, closing her eyes for a moment to center herself. Regaining composure, the fire in her eyes relit, and she continued, "I told you those things in confidence; I trusted you, Beca...why would you tell him? How could you tell Jesse those things? I really thought we had a connection." She stopped again, her voice broke, and her shoulders shook slightly as she relaxed with a quiet sadness. The last words Beca remembered her saying was, "I couldn't help but hope it was you. Why couldn't it be you?"

Before Beca could break down her walls to allow words to spill out her pursed lips, Chloe was gone, a note of sadness and despair clinging in the air nearly suffocating the brunette. She couldn't help but repeat those words over and over in her head, a rhythm of confusion punctuated by beats of anguish and betrayal. Beca still couldn't figure out what Chloe had been thinking, and it seemed the only person who might have the answers would be Jesse. Almost to his dorm, she increased the pace of her strides to get to his room as quickly as possible.

Her fist was the first thing to arrive at the door, and she began an arrhythmic pounding that had no discernible rhythm. After a few hard slams, the door flew open, and Jesse stood before her, a startled and worried look on his face. "Jesus, Beca, what's wrong?" He took a step closer to her, awkwardly trying to offer his friend comfort she clearly needed, but her palm thrust against his chest preventing him from closing the gap between them.

"No." She looked at him the confusion from earlier turning into anger, an emotion she was far more comfortable dealing with. Her words were punctuated staccato strikes, deiberate and brief. "What did you say to her, Jesse? What the fuck did you tell Chloe?" She shoved him into his room, and despite her small and compact frame, the element of surprise was in her favor and he stumbled backwards barely regaining his footing to avoid tumbling onto the Death Star carpet. Walking to his bed, Jesse collapsed, running a hand through his thick dark hair.

"I didn't say anything to Chloe." His voice was soft, but truthful. "What's going on, Beca, what did she say to you?"

Still furious, Beca sarcastically said, "Oh, I don't know, basically that I betrayed her and told you things we talked about. I thought she was coming to tell me she knew I was making the mixes. I guess she thinks you made them, I don't know Jesse, you tell me." She was still trying to process the evening's events, and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and she crumpled to a small mass on the floor, trying to hold back her sobs.

"Oh, shit. Fuck, Beca, I need to tell you something." Jesse crawled down beside his friend, and placed a nervous hand on her shoulder. "Remember when Luke said we could play whatever we wanted for an hour? I...I played your music. From the drive you left here. It was just so good, Bec, I wanted the world to hear your music! Maybe someone saw me playing it, someone who knew about Chloe's mixes, and Chloe assumed it was me making them. This is all fucked up. I'll go tell her the truth." Jesse started to stand up, but Beca's small hand gripped his wrist and pulled him back to the floor.

"No. I mean, I'm pissed that you played my shit, don't think I'm ignoring it, but I guess I was worried you were trying to get with her behind my back. Trying to steal her. Not like she's even mine, though." Finishing her sentence, she leaned into his shoulder, and he wrapped a large arm around her small form.

"No way. No freaking way I'd mess with the girl of a chick with ear spikes. I'm not stupid. Well, playing your mix was kinda stupid. But what kind of lezbro would I be if I tried to get your girl?" He smiled at Beca, and she laughed, realizing that even if he was an ass, Jesse was an ass that would be there for her when she needed.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, trying not to smear her eye makeup, she asked, "What should I do now? She wouldn't even talk to me. I tried to call her after she stormed away, but she kicked me to voicemail. Any ideas, lezbro? I'm all ears."

"Um...call me crazy, but maybe you should just make a grand gesture. Show up with note cards like in Love Actually! Or announce an apology on the radio?" Jesse's eyes lit up at the movie-inspired happy ending possibilities, but Beca simply rolled her eyes.

"Clearly your advice isn't any better. Great. Where's Benji? Maybe he can teach me a magic trick to pull my head out of my ass." Despite the words, Jesse was glad to hear the trademark sarcasm back in Beca's voice.

"I don't know, but if you need anything, let me know. I'm sorry, Beca, I really am. I never thought this would happen. Which is kind of funny," he said, laughing enough to disturb his train of thought, "because this is the kind of shit that happens in movies all the time."

Beca laughed too, adding dryly, "I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it. I have to go do something, but I'm still mad at you!" She ended her sentence with a glare, standing and moving to the door. Even though her words said otherwise, Jesse could see a spark of happiness behind her eyes. He wasn't worried; (lez)bro's before hos, right? He opened his mouth to voice it, but Beca was gone before he could vocalize the joke.

Her fingers were numb from sliding the controls for hours, and her body buzzed with the chords and progressions of notes, but hours later, Beca sighed with an odd mixture of relief and fear. She had blended some of Chloe's favorite songs with her own, and her piece de resitance, her best mix yet, was a perfect melding of Death Cab for Cutie's "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" and Ace of Base's "Cruel Summer". Saving the files to her last available flash drive, she composed a hasty note. It was short and undramatic, lacking the poetic mystery her previous missives contained. This was a request; it was a plea for Chloe to just listen to the tracks. Sneaking quietly out so as not to awaken Kimmy Jin, Beca left to slide the final mix under Chloe and Aubrey's door. For a brief moment, she felt oddly at ease, knowing that the music within her had combined with every song that pulsed inside Chloe; she had done what she could to create these mash-ups, mixing their favorite songs, combining parts of their whole into something bigger and greater. She could only hope that Chloe would listen; she just knew if given one last chance, Chloe would see where the music was coming from, know it was inside of both of them, and that she would want to finally sing along. As Beca crawled into her bed, the rising sun dancing through the blinds, her confidence wavered, and she couldn't shake a single nagging thought. What if Chloe wouldn't listen?