Age Is Just a Number

Chapter 1: Holy Shit!

Going into your senior year of high school is supposed to be this huge and exciting step forward into your life right? You've almost made it, it's the last year that you spend seeing your friends every single day of your life, taking it for granted when you finally move on with the future and distance yourself from them. It's meant to be that way for everyone right? Well not in Beca's case, she turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago and it just reminded her how much she wants to leave this town behind and jet off to LA. You see Beca has a dream, but not like the rest of the kids in her year who are pining to apply to college, oh no. She wants to take her chances in LA and become a songwriter. She was a good writer though, she did excel in English at school (mostly due to the fact her father is a professor of English at Barden University) but she did prefer to use her talent of writing in song. 'You're an artist!' Her best friend Jesse once said to her after he listened to one of her songs she had written, that was the moment she knew she wanted people to hear what she was capable of. Writing music was an art, she knew it, Jesse knew it but her dad didn't. He'd rather her go to college and use her talent to become an author or an English teacher. That wasn't exactly her thing though.

The hours of Beca's last day of summer were slowly counting their way down before she had to go back to the burning flames of hell tomorrow morning. She decided to spend a few of her last hours of freedom by using her fake ID in a bar across town. The place was empty apart from a drunken old man who must've been in his 70s, sitting in one of the booths by himself, minding his own business. Beca was perched on one of the stools, scrolling through her instagram feed silently as her finger traced the rim of the beer bottle sat on the bar surface in front of her.

"You've got to be kidding me." Beca curiously turned her head as an annoyed voice was heard from behind her. The old man across the room had also done the same as Beca and turned his head to see what the disturbance was.

In walked a stressed looking redhead, her hair curled into waves, flowing past her shoulders. Wearing a leather jacket over a white blouse along with a pair of black skinny jeans with a black pair of boots. Her handbag was slung on her shoulder and her phone was in her hand as she walked towards the bar where Beca was sitting.

Beca watched on curiously from the side, eyeing the redhead as she hopped up onto one of the bar stools, practically slamming her phone down as she ordered a drink from the bartender.

"Rough day?" Beca chuckled, raising the beer bottle to her lips, grabbing the woman's attention and nodded to confirm she was in fact talking to her.

"Uh yeah, you could say that." The woman replied with a polite yet half hearted laugh. "My date um...stood me up." She added and it took Beca every ounce of her self control not to roll her eyes. She was simply making polite conversation not wanting to listen to a weepy drunk lady all night.

"Well he's an asshole." Beca shrugged, tipping her bottle up to take a drink of it.

"Uh well 'she'." The redhead emphasised 'She'. "She's an asshole." She offered Beca half a smile as the brunette raised her eyebrows.

"Oh." Was all Beca said. Beca was into girls herself, she had known for years. Only a few people know she's a lesbian but her father wasn't one of those people, she had been putting off telling him for years, fearing his reaction. "Well we play for the same team." Beca smirked, finding the woman's surprised reaction amusing.

Much to Beca's surprise, the redhead got up and moved a stool down towards Beca so she's was sitting right next to her. You let a lesbian know you're also gay and then she's already practically sitting on your face. "I'm Chloe by the way." The woman offered Beca her hand which the brunette shook, slightly confused of what she was getting herself into.