Irhaboggle Pride (2022) Gaylor Swift's Version

Very First Night

Kommissar looked up at the starry night sky. In times like this, she wished she could fly. She'd fly all the way back to America where her tiny mouse was, scurrying around Barden University. She wanted to go back to the year of the World's. Even though DSM lost, she was able to see her mouse three times that year. It was still hardly enough, but Kommissar hadn't seen her since, and she missed her. She would go back to that year if only to see her tiny mouse again.

Idly, she wondered if it was possible to write a message in the sky so big and bright it could reach the mouse all the way from Germany.

"Kommissar, you coming?!" Her thoughts were interrupted by Pieter, beckoning her to join him and the rest of DSM inside. They were on another tour, only this time, it wouldn't take them to America, only Europe. Now, Kommissar loved to perform, there was no mistake about that, but at least of late, it felt rather tedious and repetitive to her.

Every weekend, it was this same party. She never went alone, of course, she always had her team right beside her, and she certainly didn't seem brokenhearted. In none of the shows she'd done so far would anyone guess that her mind was countries away. Only DSM had the slightest inkling, but even they didn't know the full story.

"We know what you're going through," they tried to comfort and support her. They assumed she was just going through a period of mild burnout and stagnation, or "performer's block". If only it were that simple. If anything, Kommissar's mind was all over the place, so it was the opposite of burnout and stagnation, or "performer's block". But no matter where her thoughts took her, they always brought her back to the mouse eventually. That was something her team didn't know.

They also didn't know about the night in the hotel at the end of World's. Maybe Kommissar lost the championship, but she won something far better. And they hadn't been riding in the car when she and the mouse both fell. The two hadn't spent the whole night in a hotel room. At one point, they snuck out alone together. Since everyone else was so busy getting drunk and celebrating, it wasn't too hard for each of them to make up excuses to their respective teams and then slide off into the night together.

They spent part of the night just driving around the city, only each other for company. As Kommissar helped sneak Beca out and take her for the wildest ride and night of her life, they both fell. They knew they would have to part the next day, but before they said "auf Wiedersehen", Kommissar gave Beca a picture of her, a signed photograph with a note that said, "I'll miss you, my tiny mouse!" with a heart around it.

"Oh, ha, ha, very funny," Beca rolled her eyes, but neither of them missed the way she suddenly went stiff and gulped nervously. They also didn't miss how her hands shook as she took the polaroid from Kommissar's hands (Ahh! They were still so soft!) But most of all, what nobody knew, not even DSM or Beca herself, was just how much Kommissar missed her.

ooo

But what Kommissar didn't know was that Beca was thinking the same things about her that Kommissar was thinking about Beca.

I wish I could fly, the Barden Bella Boss thought, staring idly up at the sky. Even though she hadn't seen the German at all since the end of World's, she wanted nothing more than to run to the gorgeous specimen, to find her again, and to take her back in time.

Even though Beca had been a stuttering, spluttering mess, unable to say or do anything even remotely coherent when the tall drink of German water was around, at least she'd been around! It was something Beca felt deeply embarrassed to admit, but she missed the Kommissar, more than she thought she would. She didn't miss all the teasing and being flustered and whatnot, but she did miss the woman who made her feel that way, and all the memories they'd shared in their short few interactions together.

Neither of them had seen it coming and they certainly weren't trying to fall in love (or at least, Beca wasn't. On the contrary, she'd tried to put up a fight against falling in love) but they still did, like children running. Maybe that was why. The adventure and excitement of being leaders of rival groups. Maybe that competitive spirit, the thrill of the chase, was what made them both fall.

Even though we'd known we were built to fall apart, we broke the status quo, then we broke each other's hearts, Beca recalled. Of course they knew their time together wouldn't last, and their band rivalry made it even harder, but they still chose to break the status quo on the very last night, even if they would only be together for that very short night. As sad as the end of the story was, though, the memories were just too happy.

I won't forget about the night in the city. Danced in the hotel, told me that you would miss me. No one, not the Bellas nor her family nor anybody else, knew about the words she and Kommissar whispered to each other in the car and in between the sheets that night. It was a secret Beca would take to her grave, one that only Kommissar would ever know. But more importantly, the biggest secret of all:

"No one knows how much I miss her!" Beca sighed. She felt a little crazy and weird, pining so much for a woman she barely knew (and one that made her feel like an embarrassed idiot for most of their time together), and yet still, Beca couldn't stop thinking about her.

"Come, take me away to you!" Beca sighed, still gazing longingly out the window and to the sky. How much did plane tickets to Germany cost, she wondered. Maybe, if she was actually a mouse, she could've stowed away on a plane, but alas, she was only human. But as she continued to think about the night in the hotel, and the car ride where they both fell, she suddenly remembered that even cheaper than planes, cars, or hotels, there were always phone calls. After doing a bit of stalking on the internet, she found DSM's contact information.

ooo

After long enough, she was finally the one on the phone, whispering to Kommissar again. "Do you know how much I miss you?"

"I do, tiny mouse, I do." Beca had never heard Kommissar sound so soft before. She'd also never been able to say such a coherent sentence to her before. She'd actually been so elated and pleased with herself at being able to speak without stuttering out the entire alphabet first that she nearly missed Kommissar's gentle, genuine reply.

"W-wait, you do?!" And now Beca was back to squeaking. For the longest time, she'd feared that Kommissar would think she was a creep or a loser for taking the time to track her down, but if anything, Kommissar sounded relieved (and impressed that, for once, Beca took the initiative).

"I miss you like it was the very first night," Kommissar replied. The lack of any joking or teasing made Beca realize that, yes, she was being completely serious. Kommissar really had missed her. Beca felt a blush rising her cheeks.

"W-well, I don't know if you have any plans to come to America any time soon, and I don't have any plans to go to Germany, but if you'd be down to call again sometime..."

"Of course, tiny mouse." Now some real warmth and happiness returned to the Kommissar's previously serious and somber tone. Maybe it wasn't as good as flying or traveling back in time, but they would make it work. They would make it just like the very first night. After all, the most important thing about that very first night was the fact that it was just them and them alone. They could do that, easy, and for just a brief moment, they would let each other's voices sweep them off their feet, back to the very first night.

Take me away, take me away! Take me away to you, to you!