It was the same thing every day. Beca had a set routine. Each morning she would wake up alone in her hotel room and lay in bed for hours on end, merely staring up at the ceiling unable to find anything else remarkably interesting.
She ate alone. She slept alone. She wandered around Paris alone.
Beca has been here a grand total of two days now and she had nothing of significance to show for it. Well, expect for the random doodles in her notebook that she's been drawing in aimlessly. The notebook was supposed to be for brainstorming, for songwriting, for literally anything at this point. But, with the lack of inspiration, she couldn't seem to focus on or do anything else.
Lost. That was the best word she could come up with that truly reflected what she felt.
Slowly sitting up, she ran a hand through curls as a large yawn escaped her lips and then Beca set off to get ready for the day ahead.
Striding to the shower, she quickly rid herself of her tank top and shorts and turned the shower on, moving a hand under the water to test the temperature. "Shit!" she hissed, yanking her hand back. Turning the dial toward a cooler temperature, she raised her hand once more fully prepared to feel the water's harsh steam but it never came. So she stepped inside and allowed the water to cascade over her body.
Ten minutes later, she dried herself off and hung the wet towel over the shower door, before donning skinny jeans, a black V-neck shirt, and black leather jacket. Beca grabbed her notebook off the bedside and proceeded out of the small hotel room.
——————
God. This was useless.
Slamming her pen down on the small metal table, Beca let out a low and frustrated groan and cupped her face as she attempted to relax. With a tiny huff of surrender, she took another swig of her coffee, the lukewarm liquid gliding down her throat with ease and settling her stomach.
Beca was at a small café close to her hotel, the cool air of the spring morning nipping at her skin. It was quite cold for this time of the year, a rarity to say the least, and the weather very much reflected how the struggling singer was currently feeling.
Freezing. Miserable. Withdrawn.
She'd come here with the mind set that she'd find some inspiration for her next album. No such luck. God, she'd never get out of this hole of hers if she didn't start digging. She was stuck, in a rut as it were. And all she needed -- all she desperately needed -- was to find the shovel to dig herself out.
But what? What was she missing? She didn't know. Didn't have a clue.
So, to see if she could get the rusty wheels in her head turning, Beca decided to take stroll and let the fresh air surround her, give her the encouragement to start songwriting again.
Placing the amount due for her small cup of coffee, she left the café and went searching for that shovel. Hopefully, she'd find it.
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Beca hadn't been paying attention to where she was going. She'd been in a daze and ended up on the complete opposite side of the city from where she started. She had no idea how she ended up here. Racking her brain, she came up with nothing. No explanation as to how she arrived here without even realizing it. Her feet apparently had a mind of their own.
Looking around and gazing at the sights before her, Beca discovered she'd meandered all the way over to Montmartre. That was at least two miles from the café.
She'd walked that far without even realizing it? Damn, she really was out of it.
Going down the cobblestone steps of Montmartre, she kept her gaze on the ground and watched her feet as she walked. She had a weird feeling pulsing through her veins, but she couldn't seem to figure out what.
That was until she saw a woman with flaming red hair and crystal blue eyes standing directly in front of her on the stairs.
This couldn't be happening, it had to be a dream. She was hallucinating. Yeah, that's it. She was just a figment of her imagination. She had been in a daze all day and her mind was merely playing tricks.
She was not here. She was not standing on those steps staring up at her.
No. She was not here.
But the longer the two stood there, the more they realized that this was real. It was no dream or hallucination.
"Beca?"
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For Lovers Only
Fanfiction-COMPLETE-CONTAINS SMUT- Takes place two years after the events of Pitch Perfect 3. Beca and Chloe haven't seen one another since then, each going their separate ways - Beca to music, Chloe to vet school. But, one fateful week, they both end up in P...
