""

The clouds drift by like white ships sailing the vast blue skies. Heading towards wherever the wind takes them.

Chloe wishes she were a cloud for a day or two. How great would it be if she could just drift away to somewhere far away?

Maybe even forget all the feelings that ache to burst out of her chest.

But no, that was impossible. Humans aren't clouds and are therefore cursed to walk on land to suffer —or at least that's what Chloe feels as a human at the moment. So she proceeds to look up at the sky as she lays on her back in one of the lounge's canopy sofas, thankful for the small shade over her head.

She'd kill for some music now though. Wandering up at Hotel Azure's rooftop lounge—the perks of running business errands for Amplify—had been a spontaneous decision that the need to bring earphones was lost to her.

Back to cloud watching it is then.

That is until, a shadow looms above her, silky auburn locks and amused green eyes replacing bright blue cloudy skies.

"So it seems we've now leveled up from bathrooms to rooftops apparently."

Chloe narrows her eyes at one Paris Blake, or better yet, Rachelle Coltman.

"Go away," she lazily moans, slightly lifting her hand up to lamely create shooing motions.

The singer only huffs, lips curving to one side before she plops down next to her on the outdoor circular sofa while lighting a cigarette. She takes a couple of puffs before crossing her slender legs and leaning back, a hand stretched behind her to hold herself up.

The act finally snaps Chloe away from her musings. She lifts her head up, elbows supporting her weight as she eyes the famous singer with a frown.

Paris' slender fingers brings the cigarette to her lips as she sucks in and takes a drag. She exhales the smoke in the opposite direction and that's when she senses Chloe's eyes on her. There's a momentary pause followed by a defensive, "What? This is a smoking area," she says before pointing over at the sign which Chloe missed.

That's beyond the point though. Chloe may hate cigarettes in general but right now, she's more occupied with the thought that they are strangely co-existing in silence right now and not shredding each other to pieces.

It takes another prolonged silence before she gives up because honestly, she's got a lot in her mind— and heart—right now and she just couldn't care less. She sighs in frustration, deciding to lay back down the cushion to continue gazing up on the clouds yet again.

"God, you and Beca are merging like crazy. Her grumpy morning attitude is clearly rubbing off on you."

"Shut up."

Silence takes over yet again and Chloe should be pissed at the smell of cigarettes like she normally does but, as it seems, she's apparently given up on everything at this point.

Well, except for cloud watching. Cloud watching is so underrated.

However, this time she can't get to focusing back on the huge floating cotton balls up in the sky like before. So she abruptly sits up, a frustrated groan leaving her throat. It's all so unexpected and abrupt that Paris flinches, her chest jumping at the movement and whispered expletives leave her lips as her head whips at Chloe's direction.

"I think you need this more than I do," the singer mumbles before offering a cigarette her way.

Chloe takes the whole pack—obviously one of those expensive brands—from Paris' grasp before throwing it over the other side.

"You don't have to be a bitch, you know," Paris says in a rather calm tone.

Chloe had expected a slap or a growl, to be honest. Maybe even a punch, one that could knock her out cold and make her stop... thinking.

"It's bad for your lungs and your throat... and I can be a bitch to people who I want to be a bitch too," she replies in the same tone, eyes staring at equally expressive green hues.

"It gives a raspy quality to my voice." Paris jokingly says.

"You don't need it."

The singer's brow rises up inquisitively, "Are we enemies or friends— 'cause I'm confused whether I want to kick you or..." she momentarily pauses to glance at her discarded cigarette pack before continuing, "...share my cigarette with you."

"Both. We're probably... both," Chloe mutters, thinking twice about it before snatching the singer's cigarette and bringing it to her lips.

She gets into a coughing fit.

"This is awful! Why do you like this stuff so much?"

"You're doing it wrong,"

Chloe ends up throwing the stick in disgust.

"You fuckin' bitch." Paris breathes out, clearly not holding back.

"And you're the worst bitch in town," Chloe retaliates before heavily groaning and falling back down the cushions, an arm coming up to cover her eyes. "I shouldn't even be talking to you."

Paris hums at her plight and Chloe could already hear the cogs turning in her head.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Go away."

"Is she being stubborn again? Or... something else?"

Chloe remains silent. She has no time to spill feelings with Paris Blake, no less.

"Beca has a quite this charm with the ladies. It's that mysterious detached in control vibe she has. That hard to get but definitely worth it kind of charm. Until that is, you find out that she's actually a total dork, innocent and very sweet... like a kitten."

Chloe snaps back up at that, ready to fire away but when she looks at Paris with all the words she wants to spit out, something else stirs inside her and she finds that there's a whole lot of other words she needs to say out loud. Because if she doesn't, she'll only end up exploding.

And exploding she does.

"There's no paradise."

"Are you high?"

"Me and Beca. We don't have a paradise. Never has been... and never will be. I just let you think we did to piss you off," she finally confesses, eyes starting to sting at the sudden rush of emotions.

"She and I... we're just... we're just... two people connecting... never lacking but also not exceeding. Just... in the middle." Her breath is shaky, eyes loosing life and heart all over the place.

Paris' face slackens, eyes blinking in sudden understanding before it contorts into a frown.

"And why not?"

This confuses Chloe.

"What do you mean why not?" she exhales in frustration, looking straight ahead into nothing.

"You like her and she likes you so why—"

"As a friend. She likes me as a friend."

"That's bullshit."

"I know."

"No you don't. There's clearly something there. I can tell and believe me, I know Beca."

"Do you really? 'Cause she's got a date on Friday. It's their second one so... things must be looking good," she says bitterly.

"No... no, no, no. Wait, let's get one thing straight," Paris interjects, holding a finger up in the air. A pause and then they both snort at the last word because it's the one thing they all are definitely not.

Paris clears her throat before proceeding, "How in the world are you guys not together again?"

Chloe sighs, "I was in a relationship a couple of months ago and—" Paris gives her a look and Chloe clarifies. "With a guy—cause I clearly thought I would never have a thing for a girl until..." she hangs her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Paris' knowing "Oh," says a lot and Chloe nods.

"So when we met you were still..."

"Yes."

"And Beca was the..."

"Yes."

"And so she thinks that you don't..."

"Yes."

"Well then, bitch, tell her!" Paris bursts out, looking offended at the whole situation.

"It's not that easy!" she cries out in defense.

"Just open your god damn mouth and say it!" comes the angry reply.

"Yes, I know, and that's what I should've done when she used to like me in the romantic kind of way!"

"Oh mother of all fucks!"

"Would you stop yelling or I'm going to slap you for real!"

"You better be quick because I'm about to do the same to your dumb ass."

They both take time to breathe, falling into silence when hotel security passes by.

Probably wondering what the fuss was about and checking in on them. Chloe shakes her head while Paris pinches the bridge of her nose.

For a moment she worries if this will end up on online tabloids or trashy showbiz news. She hopes it doesn't. Getting famous for threatening Paris Blake and suffering the wrath of her fans is not on her bucket list.

The security walks back, seeing as a cat fight isn't breaking out yet, and Chloe can't help but feel embarrassed for acting childishly.

"I'm not dumb... I was just late," she starts after a minute of silence.

"Late in realizing that she's... what I wanted. What I've been looking for all along. It's all too late. It's what I seem to do best. Always be late," she softly says, her vision blurring at the soft admission.

"You're not," Paris tells her and Chloe would've thought that she's being nice until she adds a pointed, "You're an idiot, Chloe."

Rolling her eyes, she was about to stand up and leave—cause really, this conversation is going nowhere—but the words she hears next break that thought.

"Late is when you had the best in your hands and wasted it by trading it for something far less... for one truly stupid decision. A mistake that—" Paris pauses to shake her head, sad eyes look out into space.

"I broke up with Beca because she deserved more than that. She deserved someone better. Even that decision, I regret."

When she finally looks at Chloe, there's a small smile in her face. "You're not late, Chloe. You're scared. I think you've always been on time and yet there you are, just hovering outside the door. Constantly wondering what would happen if you knocked."

"But," Chloe starts and hesitates for a moment, realizing how her lips are quivering and her chest tightening.

"What if I do and I still end up with the door slammed on my face?"

The thought gives her anxiety, all her worries heightening back up higher than ever.

But then green eyes look at her with certainty and an assurance that she has been through far worse than her.

"Then step back, leave, give it some time and maybe I'm in need of a drinking buddy these days so... I think we can be civil enough with each other to drunkenly bitch about equality and the awful things about life? I don't know," she shrugs before standing up to leave.

However, she pauses, thinking twice about it before turning to her again.

"If you don't knock, you'll stay stuck forever, wondering about all the 'what ifs' until... it really becomes too late. Don't waste that chance. Stop hovering. Don't be like me. Don't be filled with all these regrets."

Paris finally leaves with a 'Bye, bitch' and Chloe thinks that she owes her a pack of expensive cigarettes.

It's about five in the afternoon when Chloe gets back to Amplify, carrying the important documents and notes of concerns from the sponsors. Everyone is starting to end the day and head home. She smiles weakly at Jesse and gives CR a nod before passing by Beca's table to hand over said documents and notify her of what has been talked about earlier.

She's just about to head off to her table when Beca stops her to ask if she was okay. It catches Chloe off-guard.

Unconsciously, the heavy weight on her shoulders must have seeped out of her. She must look like someone who has been dumped misfortune on.

"Are you not feeling well?" Beca asks, rather gently than a couple of moments ago, and this is probably the first time the producer's softer side slips through the cracks of her strict business persona during work hours.

It's an unspoken rule that Beca stops being her boss and becomes her best friend after six.

The question, on the other hand, suddenly makes Chloe self-conscious.

"Yeah! I mean no—I'm just, you know, tired, running around the city and talking about the year-end Christmas event. I'm good. Fine, actually!"

She cringes at her babbling self. Not a proud moment, unfortunately.

Beca looks skeptical but just nods before seemingly remembering something.

"Didn't you use my car? I told you to use my car," she says and Chloe suddenly remembers the sleek black car keys in her coat pocket.

"Oh, right! I did—well, parking was expensive at the hotel and there were lots of... other cars so I had to park somewhere else and walk a couple of blocks—run, actually, due to traffic but yeah, here are the keys! And uhm... thanks," she rambles while fumbling for the car keys and handing it over to Beca.

The brunette looked skeptical, a little bit confused and maybe even worried but Chloe brushes all that off with a cringe worthy two thumbs up and a wide smile that probably looks like she's having constipation. Adding to the awkwardness, she almost bumps into one of the chairs before finally getting to her own work area.

Taking the time to catch her breath and compose herself, she sinks into her office chair and she sighs in relief at the comfort it offers, eyes shutting close for a much needed break—Beca had ordered a new set of highly adjustable, fancy-looking, ergonomic office chairs that are designed for lumbar support and all that jazz right after Chloe jokingly tells her that her lower back is going to crack soon.

Beca does take her employees health very seriously and Chloe has had junk foods taken away right out of her hands and vitamins, that have been shipped straight from Australia, shoved down her throat. She doesn't complain about the gym workouts and morning runs though.

Aubrey, whom Beca reluctantly consults with regards to health, might feel like a drill sergeant in a military boot camp as she puts them all, in what CR dubs, the hell of all hells. It fondly reminds Chloe of a capella boot camp and besides, she likes physical challenges, especially when done with friends. Plus, you get closer to achieving well-toned abs. It's a win-win situation, if you count getting to stare at Beca post work-out in those tight fitting—

"Chlo,"

Chloe's eyes pop open to the voice which she deems soothing. A voice she loves to hear every morning.

She finds stormy blues gazing down at her with that tinge of concern that makes Chloe's heart swell at the thought of.

Staring at them for long periods of time is unfortunately inappropriate though. So, she abruptly straightens up and clears her throat.

"Becs," she naturally replies before checking the time, wondering if she had unintentionally drifted away to sleep only to find that it's only been, more or less, fifteen minutes since she sat.

The nickname seemed a bit too early to be used in 'Beca standards'.

Nevertheless, Beca doesn't correct her and instead says, "Come on, let's go."

The words seem foreign in Chloe's ears as she tries to remember if they had an appointment with one of their sponsors or media representatives. So she blinks for a few moments only to come up with nothing.

"Where?" she asks, staring at the brunette leaning at the side of her table.

"Dinner," Beca simply says before clarifying, "We're still having dinner at Vamps right?"

Chloe nods dumbly before snapping out of her confusion. "Of course! Right, I just—isn't it a bit early?" she questions, eyes wandering towards Beca's now spotless table before glancing at the red ladybug keychain hanging on Beca's bag. The bag which is now hanging on the brunette's shoulder.

"We're leaving early today," Beca simply says and Chloe doesn't miss the way Beca twirls her black platinum ring in her forefinger.

Unbeknownst to the brunette, Chloe has become aware of her tells. Ring twirling especially with her favorite ring is an obvious sign of anxiety or nervousness.

Something's up.

Chloe doesn't pry, doesn't even try to ask and just grabs her own bag, making a quick clean of her desk before following Beca to the elevator. She is almost definitely aware of the surprised looks on everyone's face when Beca clocks out early. Or the way they look at Chloe.

Chloe knows of the rumors going by. Knows that people keep asking if they were an item because of how constantly they are seen together from morning until whenever Beca calls it a day, how she walks around wearing some of Beca's clothes, how they share the same perfume now, how Beca only drinks the coffee Chloe gives her and how Chloe just drives around in Beca's car even though she has her own. She knows that Jesse and CR shuts all the rumors down by quickly informing them that Chloe doesn't swing that way.

Which is funny because here she is pining for a girl—something she still can't bring herself to admit with Jesse and CR.

Maybe it's because if she did, they'd immediately put the pieces together and figure just who has managed to change her world.

And when it comes to the huge question on whether or not she's bisexual, the answer remains to be one giant blank. She's supposed to be, now that she's attracted to a certain overall producer of live events but then when Tessa introduces her to a female friend at a bar one time who unabashedly flirted with her, Chloe finds her stomach twisting the wrong way. She had sputtered excuses before hurriedly bailing out.

There was nothing wrong with that lovely girl. It honestly was all Chloe. Tessa's friend was beautiful, charming and funny yet it just didn't feel... right. Even if Chloe had thought about it over a billion times now. To try and experience being with a girl, to date, be intimate and do things. Maybe even just once.

But no, she'd leave every time. Coming up with excuses and running back to the one place she feels that strong pull. Where she feels most safe.

Right where Beca is.

Movie nights, music nights, game nights, sleepovers, breakfasts, dinners, kitty play times, Beca's place has been like her second home. She was around almost every other night and especially during the weekends that even Beca's neighbors think that they are together.

Chloe doesn't correct their assumptions.

She doesn't want to

She's also painfully aware how serious it was getting. How hard it was not to hold Beca in her arms and just... kiss her. And that just may be the problem.

There's only one girl she wants. The only one she is helplessly attracted to.

Only one.

"So, I might... have... gotten us tickets to that play you wanted to watch," Beca says in between dessert and before Chloe could react, two tickets are slid across the table towards her.