So my harddrive is screwed. Woopee for me; I now have to start everything all over again.

On a better note, Pitch Perfect has been nominated 9 times for a Teen Choice Award! AND "Cups" has been nominated for something like best song by a female artist! Signing up to vote is free and you can do it every day so GO VOTE. We're up against some big names but if we all band together we might have a shot so WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!


"Those assholes!" Aubrey shrieks, her foot stamping the ground.

"Holy shit."

"How did they even get it that high?"

"Is that our sheet music?"

"What is this position?"

"It's called a flip reverse -"

"We don't really want to know, Stacie."

Chloe is still on the floor, rubbing her tail bone with an angry pout. Strewn around them lies their sheet music, covered in graffiti and crude images. Screenshots of Aubrey's Pukegate litter every surface and wall, even the ceiling, which is a good fifteen feet above them. The board with Aubrey's 'path to success' is gone, and instead in untidy writing is scrawled words like, IS THIS BURNING AN ETERNAL SUCK, TURN THE BEAT AROUND AND GIVE UP, IS ENOUGH ENOUGH? YES.

"Most of these aren't even good," Beca mutters as she examines the mediocre threats. Glancing back at the rest of group and a green-tinged Aubrey, she sees her attempt to make light of the situation has gone over their heads.

"Those bastards!" Chloe fumes, getting to her feet to rub her friend's back. "We a were supposed to have called a truce on this!"

"A truce?" Jessica asks.

Chloe sighs. "We used to prank each other all the time. Try and psych each other out. But it got dangerous a few years back and we agreed to stop."

Stacie walks forward, spinning to face everyone with a cunning smirk, her arms crossed under her ample chest. "Well, since they broke it, it's a good thing I have the perfect way to get them back."

"Oh my god," she mutters to herself as she pushes away from her desk, "what's happening to me?"

The result of three hours spent mixing songs together stares back at her from her computer screen. Bec shakes her head, trying to get rid of the piece of brain Aubrey has obviously transplanted into her that is leading her to look at the music in a new way - How could this song be arranged for acapella? Stacie would be great for the lead vocals, but who would carry the beat? Could she put this song into it without it being too obvious a transition? - but she can't stop thinking of how the voices could blend, how much better they could be if Aubrey could just get her head out of her ass and -

"Hey, Shawshank!" Amy bursts through the door with a giant smile on her face, an arm wrapped around a giant bag of onion rings.

Beca quickly minimises the screen. "Oh hey, Amy, sure, come on in..."

Falling heavily onto Beca's bed, Amy stuffs four onion rings into her mouth, crumbs spraying over her comforter. "What's going on?"

Beca glances around, looking at her side of the room for something to present as a viable option. "Oh, um, you know..." A textbook she's pretty sure hasn't even been opened yet sits under a pile of doodle-covered notes. "Studying! I was studying."

Amy scoffs. "Yeah, because college is meant for studying."

Pressing her lips together, she waits for her friend to get to get to the point. Amy throws a handful of onion rings into the air, failing to catch any. They land instead all over her bed, and Amy picks one out of her impressive cleavage, tossing it into her mouth.

"So any plans tonight?" she asks around the food.


"Good, because we're going to this party and I need you as my wingman." Amy tilts the bag towards her with a look that suggests she doesn't really want Beca to take any. She shakes her head, and Amy chews on another handful. As an afterthought she adds, "Aubrey won't be there."

Beca picks up her phone from her desk and sees the lack of messages. She looks at her computer, the picture of her Townsend friends pulling goofy faces at her. What does she have to lose?

"Okay, sure."

Eighty three minutes later and she's forgotten why she said yes.

Amy has already left her behind in favour of a member of the swim team; Lily is curled into the tiny gap between the wall and the arm of the sofa; Stacie is draping herself over two guys at once and she's pretty sure Cynthia Rose and Denise have suspiciously disappeared into the same bedroom of whoever's house this is. She looks around, boredom slumping her against the cupboard full of delicate china plates. Chloe is barely visible around the tall body of her "just a friend" Tom from the showers. She wonders how appropriate it is to leave a party after only fifteen minutes of attendance.

"Hey there, beautiful." A large body that smells too much like fresh sweat falls into the space beside her, a leering smirk on his face. The plates in the cabinet rattle. Beca cringes and rubs her nose.

"Go away."

"Come on, baby," he drawls, "don't be that way."

"You're disgusting." She pushes off the cabinet, walking across the room towards the front door. The beat of the music pounds in her chest, but rather than comfort her like it always used to, it makes her anxious. Her heart rate picks up, and she ditches her red cup and ducks under someone's arm until she's free of the house, the cool March air hitting her with force.

She walks leisurely back towards campus, hands stuffed into pockets. Thoughts swirl around her head, about Jesse and Freddy and Jenny, about her mother alone in their house, her father closer than he's been in two years. She thinks about the Bellas, about Aubrey and Stacie. She wonders when her life became such a tangle of drama.

"Hey, Becky!"

Looking over her shoulder, she is surprised to see that she's already on campus by the radio station. Luke is locking the doors, smiling at her as she pauses on the path. He waves and puts the keys in his pocket, jogging until he reaches her.

"Hey, I'm glad I caught you."

"Why?" she asks, starting to walk again with him in step beside her.

"I wanted to talk to you." Quiet falls for a moment. His leather jacket squeaks and she stares down at her hands, biting her lip. "So I listened to some of your tracks."

She looks up in surprise. "You did?"

"Yeah, and I have to say Becky, they're really great." He's smiling at her, and she bites harder into her lip, turning her gaze back to the path in front of them.


"I've been thinking," he starts, pausing again for a moment before ploughing on, "You and Jesse aren't, like, a thing, so -"

"No," she interrupts, trying to reel in the bitterness. "No we're not."

"So I can ask you out, then?"

Beca's eyebrows raise in surprise as she stops to look up at Luke. "You... You want to ask me out?"

"Well, yeah." Luke smiles at her, a dimple appearing in one cheek. Beca blushes. She's never been asked out before and she finds it oddly endearing.

"Wow." Looking down at her hands, she contemplates it. Luke is a senior, and she's a freshman! Why would he be interested in her? No one has particularly expressed an - But no, because she remembers how Jesse had confessed to warning people away, and though back then she had found the move sweet, now she is full of anger - how dare he control her life that way? How was it at all within his right to do that to her?

"Okay," slips out before she can think any more, and with more conviction, she says, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Luke's grin envelopes his face. "Great." Beca looks up at her building and Luke looks too, nodding in understanding. "How's Friday night? Say 7?"

Beca smiles, picking at the chipped nail polish on her thumb. "Sounds good to me."

"Great." Luke hesitates before leaning towards her, and his lips are warm on her cheek for a sweet few seconds. "Well, goodnight."


Beca watches him until the night takes him away, and she laughs quietly to herself as she walks into her building. She has a date. Beca Mitchell has a date. With a British senior, no less!

Her phone is out of her pocket before she's even up the stairs. "Hey, Jen? Guess what..."

The Bellas hide in the bushes outside, breathless laughter covered by blue tinged hands.

"Stacie, you are an actual genius," Cynthia whispers, and Stacie winks at her, a smug smile lighting up her features.

It takes a good half hour, but the wait is worth it - Bumper's shrill scream comes first, followed by a collective yell at too high a pitch. Bumper crashes through the front door of the Treble house, swimming trunks hiding only a small amount of his dignity. Ah is skin is dyed blue up to his shoulders, oh is face a deep shade of red as he whirls around on the porch.

Donald appears next, blue to his elbows, a flowery shower cap covering his hair. Then Kolio, Hat, Unicycle - all dyed the victorious shade of deep blue.

The Bellas fall on the floor with laughter, and Jessica happily takes as many pictures as possible on her fancy camera for the university newspaper.

Bumper's face turns purple as Jesse approaches the house and trips over his own feet in shock at the sight before him.


Friday afternoon, Beca hums Turn The Beat Around to herself as she stacks the last of her box. A smile lingers on her face, and she's been ignoring the inquisitive looks Jesse has been throwing her the whole shift. He's stopped working, standing by her box with his arms crossed, and she walks between the shelves without really working. She wonders if she should tell him. She wonders if he'll care.

Around another corner, and she squeaks in surprise when Jesse is standing there, staring down at her. She coughs and regains her composure, brushing past him to her box.

"Oh come on, Bee, this is killing me!" he protests, following her, his feet dragging.

"What is?" she asks innocently.

"Whatever you're keeping secret!" Jesse sighs when she just smiles and picks up more CDs, glancing at the artist and heading towards the right section. "Is it the Bellas? Do you have some kind of secret weapon for the semis?"

Beca stays quiet, smirking when Jesse groans.

Her phone rings in her pocket, and before she can grab it Jesse is pulling it out of her back pocket and holding it out of her reach, looking at the Caller ID.

"Jesse!" she barks. "Give that back!"

"Phillipa, huh?" He presses the green button and grins at her when she tries to jump up and snatch it back. "Are you two planning something?"

"Hello?" Phillipa's voice floats from the phone, and Beca picks up on the pitch of her voice instantly, her mildly annoyed smile falling.

"Jesse," she warns. He's still holding it up, unaware. "Jesse give me the phone. This is serious."

"Beca can't come to the phone right now!" Jesse says loudly, laughing until Beca's anxious expression registers.

"She's crying, you idiot," she whisper-yells, and Jesse takes a second to realise it before quickly passing the phone back. Beca presses it to her ear, the sobbing louder and painful.

"Hello? Phillipa?" Beca walks away to a quiet corner of the station. "What's wrong?"

Fifteen tearful minutes later, she emerges from her corner to grab her bag from the floor. Jesse is watching her, concern for his friend creasing his forehead. She throws her bag on her back as she sighs heavily.

"You need to call Damien," is the only explanation she gives before going over to the booth in the middle of the room, opening the door without knocking.

"Hey!" Luke smiles at her, looking up from one of the screens.

"I'm really sorry but I have to reshedule tonight," she says. "My friend just called and she needs me back home."

His smile falls but he nods in understanding. "Yeah, sure, of course. Don't worry about it. I hope your friend is okay."

"I'm sorry," she says again and quickly rushes out, past a confused Jesse and the heartwrenching crying that still echoes in her ear. Her phone is out again as she speed-walks across campus towards the only Bella she knows has a car to take her to the bus station; Jessica.

"Hey, Jenny?" she says breathlessly into the receiver. "It's Phillipa. She did it, and she needs us."

A pause. "I can leave in an hour."