Beca sighed lazily as she stepped through the sliding doors of the local supermarket. She definitely wasn't looking forward to another day at the market. Bagging people's groceries and sometimes carrying those groceries to customers' cars for them… Ignoring the dirty looks she'd get for no real reason (though she had an idea that it might've had something to do with her dark make-up and accessories)

People could be so rude and demanding sometimes.

As if working a ten-hour shift isn't enough, already… Beca thought to herself with a frown.

But, Beca couldn't complain. She'd had her chance. She'd made it big and blew it. She could've had it all. The money… the fame… a job she actually enjoyed…

Artists and record labels were lining up left and right to work with the talented DJ. She had the skills of a seasoned producer and people found her to be quite charming. It wasn't long before she started to blow up… She finalized negotiations and signed with a record label only to find that she had gotten herself into more than she bargained for. Just as quickly as she found herself becoming a household name, she found herself kicked to the curve over a moral disagreement with her manager.

It was like they all expected Beca to just roll over and take it up the ass. (Both, figuratively and literally, but of course she hadn't told anyone about that) They'd tell her to jump and wait for her to ask just how high she was expected to jump. Little did they know, they had hired the wrong one. She was Beca Mitchell. Beca-FUCKING-Mitchell. The first (and last) person to ever stand up to those scandalous billionaires. They'd been doing things behind the scene that couldn't have been legal and Beca wanted no part of it. So, she resigned. Giving them back every penny they'd ever given her because she refused to be associated with that dirty money.

Now all she had was her pride and an old blazer. Outside of the supermarket, that was all she really had.

But it was hers. She earned all of it. Legally. And no one else was harmed or exploited in order for her to get it.

Beca finished clocking in and began to make her way back towards the front of the store. She made it just in time to help an older woman carry her bags back to her station wagon. Fortunately, Beca didn't have to go far because the woman had parked in a handicap space. She looked perfectly fine to Beca. But, hey she wasn't complaining.

"Thanks, dear," The woman started as she fumbled to unlock the door. Her voice weak with age. "You're one of the good ones… " Then, she proceeded to say something along the lines of Beca having the potential to be pretty if she'd take out her ear spikes and try a little harder. Beca wasn't sure if it was a compliment, but she thank the woman anyway as she began to load the woman's trunk with groceries.


There was a rising artist on the other side of town, with hair as fiery and full of life as she was. She had a passion for art. For the beauty of the world. When ironically, she was a beautifully sculpted work of art herself. The toned physique… The wavy ginger locks and light blue eyes to contrast beautifully against her lightly tanned skin…

Chloe Beale was becoming more and more popular among the southeastern art scene. Receiving numerous awards and accolades for her paintings and photographs. But was as humble as could be. When asked about her strategy, she always said that she wasn't the artist. She wasn't the mastermind that created the beauty in her work. She was "Simply the paintbrush to the easel," She felt that there was beauty in everything. Something artistic or poetic about every piece of the puzzle she knew as Mother Earth, and she simply captured it and showed it to people. She felt that she was merely MAGNIFYING things and it amazed her that she got paid to do something so simple. As simple as having fun and doing what she loved.

Her laptop was currently open to Pandora and she stood at the window of her studio apartment. Just gazing out over the Atlanta skyline as she listened to whatever came through the speakers of her laptop. This was how she woke up every morning ( Or "day", considering the fact that she worked from home and mostly slept until noon)

She stomach whined reminding her that she'd slept through breakfast and she made her way across the wooden floor to her refrigerator. The wood creaking softly under her feet. She pulled the handle and was shocked to find her fridge practically empty when the door swung open. She closed the door and did a brief recap over all her recent trips to the local supermarket, only to realize that she really HADN'T been in a while. Nearly a month.

Succumbing to the demanding whines and rumbles of her belly, Chloe threw on a tee, some track pants, and a pair of sneakers so she would look at least SLIGHTLY more presentable when she wandered into the store.

She wasn't planning to meet anyone. She wasn't expecting to score digits or anything of that sort. Not that it would matter if she did. She was an artist and that's where her focus was. Relationships never worked for her anyway… (At least, that's what she always told herself.)

So, pushed her cart through the aisles of the market in a slalom-like fashion. Humming to herself with a small smile as she gathered items in her list. She double-checked when she dropped the last item into her buggy. Making sure she'd gotten everything, because she was eager to get back to her easel and had no intentions of coming back out once she'd made it home.

She pushed her cart up to the only open register and began to thumb through her wallet for her debit card. She began to hum the melody of David Guetta's "Titanium" to herself when she heard a rhythmic tapping at the end of the checkout counter. A beat that seemed to fit perfectly with the melody she had been humming and (if she hadn't been mistaking) a soft bass line that meshed in an interesting, but pleasing way. Curiously, she raised her gaze from her wallet to see who was tapping and humming along with her.

Chloe wasn't sure what she expected, but she definitely didn't expect to find herself looking at a small woman with ear spikes and brown hair. A gorgeous woman, at that. With beautifully chiseled cheekbones and soft thin lips. She didn't expect her breath to hitch when the woman's navy blue orbs met hers. She didn't expect to find a work of art, waiting to bag her groceries.

Beca was a little taken back by the strange feeling she got when she met the redheaded woman's gaze.

It was unlike anything she'd ever felt and it made her want to get to know the woman.

Neither woman said anything as they walked towards Chloe's car, both bearing bags on their arms as Beca pushed Chloe's, also full, buggy. Chloe was parked relatively far from the store, but again: Beca wasn't complaining. It wasn't until they reached the trunk of Chloe's Challenger before either of the women mustered the courage to speak. There was something beautiful between them. And though they weren't exactly sure what it was… They weren't quite ready for it to be over. They just wanted to be NEAR each other. And for the life of them, they couldn't figure out why.

Nice car… Beca smiled to herself. Clearly impressed with the woman's taste in cars. The car was a classic. It had to be at least 30 to 40 years old.

"So, uh…" Beca chuckled nervously as she began to load the redhead's trunk. "Is there an apocalypse coming that I don't know about, or-?" She trailed off. A smirk playing at her lips.

Beca was worried the woman might not get her sense of humor and think she was just being an ass. But, luckily that wasn't the case. Chloe giggled as she also began to transport bags from the cart to her trunk. Beca thought it was the most beautiful laugh she'd ever heard. She wanted more of it.

"No, I just… don't come out much." Chloe admitted, with a smile, "Unless I'm hiding behind a camera."

"I see…" Beca turned to take in the woman beside her. She was even more beautiful from this angle. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips slightly pursed as she rearranged bags to make everything fit.

Speaking of fit… Beca thought, as her eyes trailed down the redhead's body. Taking in her curves and subtle biceps. This woman, definitely keeps fit.

"You're staring," Chloe chuckled. Feeling her cheeks flush as she turned to meet the brunette's gaze once more.

"I, uh… you just said something about a camera. Are you a photographer?" Beca asked loading the last of the bags into Chloe's trunk as she closed the lid.

Nice save, Mitchell. You almost ran the poor woman off.

"I might be. If I don't tell you, maybe you'll be curious and you'll have an excuse to see me again." Chloe teased, boldly.

Something in her gut made her want to get to know the woman beside her and she hoped she was making the right call by asking her out when they barely knew each other.

Beca's eyebrows shot up. She certainly wasn't expecting the woman to come on to her. The woman was, in her mind, so out of her league it wasn't even funny, but again: Beca DEFINITELY wasn't complaining.

"Who says I need an excuse?" Beca replied, crumbling a little at the way the redhead's eyes lit up at her response.

"Well, then," Chloe took in the name printed across the nametag on Beca's uniform. "BECA… you will definitely see me around. I might actually leave the apartment long enough to see you again."

"I hope so-" Beca smirked waiting for the woman to introduce herself.

"Chloe." She offered with a smile and Beca felt like it suited her. It was a pretty name. Cute and full of life.

Chloe made her way to the driver's side and opened the car before taking a seat. "Bye, Beca."

"Later." Beca replied. Shoving her hands in her pockets as she watched the redhead pull out of the parking lot and drive away. A small piece of her heart leaving with the woman.