currently writing a sequel for this angsty, six-year-old story
'cause i wished you the best (all this world could give)
Beca runs into Chloe at the supermarket.
Beca hates grocery shopping.
It's a waste of time and a test her patience always ends up failing. The noise, the infuriating music, the children crying and the lines are some of the things that make her skin crawl unpleasantly.
She didn't hate it as much, ten years ago. Chloe managed to make it bearable; fun even. Beca remembers the impromptu dance sessions in the aisles when Chloe heard a song she liked, the arguments on which ice-cream to get for movie night, or the goofy marco-polo they engaged into when one of them was lost among the cacophony.
The stolen kisses and loose hand-hold as they wound through different sections of the supermarkets, the whispered i love you's for no reason while waiting in line to check-out.
Grocery shopping got filed away in that box of things that triggered bitter memories when they broke-up, and even though it's been years, Beca avoids it as much as she can.
She just came home from tour, however, and decided to go buy some food to cook for herself after living on take-out for the better part of the last three months spent on the road.
Beca regrets that decision the second she steps through the gigantic sliding doors, but doesn't turn around because she's too stubborn for that. She simply makes a deal with herself to be as quick as possible so she can chill on the couch in her sweatpants for the rest of the day.
She's standing in the cereal aisle, torn between fruit loops and cheerios for dinner (okay, so she might have changed her mind about cooking. Whatever.) when she feels something tug at her pants.
Looking down, she's met with a pair of cerulean eyes that are so familiar she almost chokes on her saliva. Except they belong to a girl no older than four or five and not her ex-girlfriend.
Beca blinks away the memories assaulting her mind and focuses on the situation at hand. “Yes?”
“Have you seen my momma?” the little girl asks, troubled orbs boring into Beca's. Her bottom lip is quivering, like she's on the verge of a breakdown or a tantrum, and Beca inwardly panics.
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