Summary: Chloe Beale has one rule. Just one. Had she known that the odd combination of hair dye, a crappy old convertible, sixty-plus hours of driving, a mix CD, and one Beca Mitchell would lead to her breaking it, she never would have suggested going on this stupid road trip in the first place.
Notes:This is for Kay. I’m pretty sure she never thought I would finish it, since she suggested a fic based off joshjenn’s gifset approximately a million years ago. But here it is. Actually, this is something of a combination of a few prompts; I was also asked, some time ago, to write Chloe how she’s sometimes represented in fandom—as someone who enjoys casual relationships more than anything super serious. The challenge was to write this, as well as a Beca who would have to be the initiate things. So yes, I’ll stop rambling, but a big thanks to my two main prompters!
I have to save my biggest thanks, however, for Midground, who beta’d the shit out of this thing, and was endlessly patient with my whining over how I wanted to throw this fic in the fire and never look back. (Props should also be given to perpetuallyfive for making sure I did no such thing.) Seriously, this thing would not have been posted without them.
“It is terrifying to think that one day you will trust somebody enough to let them see you naked. You will undress and remind them that you’ve stretch marks and birth marks and scars from having chicken pox when you were little and scars from all of the other things now. You will blush thousands of shades of red, painting yourself as a rose losing its petals. And that person - that person will take it all in. And I wonder if they will reassure you. But mostly, I wonder if they will even see anything worth reassuring you about. I hope they see each freckle on your back as if it’s a star and you are the whole universe to them.”—(K.P.K)