Your Voice - Donald Walsh

ONE

The taxi pulled up to a stop in front of the university, and Blake pulled out her earbuds. She plugged them into her phone, pressing shuffle on a playlist her brother sent her before she left. Quietly thanking the cab driver, Blake pulled her bags out of the trunk of the car and pulled them up onto the sidewalk. Her backpack, suitcase, and duffle bag, all heavy as fuck.

"Hi there! Welcome to Barden University! What dorm?" A blonde girl with massive eyes and a smile too big for her face stepped directly into Blake's personal space.

"Baker Hall." Blake replied, smiling politely. The girl began to give her directions, and Blake pretended to listen, nodding as she turned up the music.

"Here is your campus map and your official BU rape whistle. Don't blow it unless it's actually happening." The girl said, smiling as she handed Blake a whistle. Blake raised a pierced eyebrow, sliding the whistle into her pocket before walking in the general direction the girl had pointed to before. She passed a group of guys sitting on the quad in camping chairs as they held up signs to rate the appearances of passing girls. She ignored the numbers, whistles and catcalls directed at her as she walked toward the building that read Baker Hall.

A woman at the front handed her the key to her dorm and Blake finally found it after walking up two flights of stairs. Walking in, the room was completely empty, her roommate having not arrived yet.

Blake slowly began to unpack. It was still fairly early, so she had time to put away all of her clothes in the side she claimed, set up her desk and fill the shelves and walls with her belongings. 90% of which was movie paraphernalia. When she was younger, her best friend got her into film class, and once she was old enough, Blake began to write reviews herself. That was her thing, she supposed.

Her personal favourites, one of each genre, were on the walls in the form of small framed posters, tastefully lined up on one of the smaller walls. Pulp Fiction, The Shining, The Breakfast Club, Revenge of the Sith, The Dark Knight, Silence of the Lambs, Lord of the Rings. As long as it wasn't a romantic comedy, Blake had probably both seen and reviewed the movie. She was just shelving her last DVD when the door opened.

"Hey, you must be Blake." A girl said, walking into the room. Blake noted her piercings, combat boots, eyeliner, and smiled.

"Yeah, you're Beca?" She asked. The girl nodded, smiling back.

"Woah. You're into movies." Beca noted, looking at the wall. Blake scratched the back of her head.

"Uh, yeah. It's my thing. If it, or... anything I do bothers you, just tell me. I don't really fuck with secrets."

"Noted. Me too." Beca replied, smiling as she put her bag down on the bed. "It's cool." She began to unpack, and Blake left her to her devices, turning to her phone and scrolling for a while. She looked up, and Beca had pulled out a mixing board, speakers, and set up a whole desk of music equipment.

"Woah, you mix?" Blake asked. Beca smiled sheepishly, turning on one of her latest tracks.

"Yeah." She replied.

"This is sick." Blake stated, bopping along to the beat. The music was genuinely well put together, and she was thoroughly impressed.

"Thanks." Beca replied. A soft banging on the door interrupted them both.

"Hey, this is campus police. Hide your wine coolers." A voice called on the other side. A man opened the door, poking his head into the room and grinning. "Ha, it's just your old man, making a funny."

"Chris Rock, everybody." Beca mumbled, turning back to her computer.

"Hey, you must be Beca's roommate. I'm Dr. Mitchell, Beca's dad." He said, smiling to Blake.