"YOUR REGULAR?" GUNTHER's monotone voice asked. He had already began putting in an order, giving Tara no time to respond.

"Yeah," she said, scanning the array of pastry that sat in the counter below her. She tapped the glass above a blueberry muffin. "A muffin too, please."

Gunther grunted in response, but Tara was too damn excited to let him dampen her mood.

"Big day today, so I'd thought I'd get something extra," she explained, her fingers running through her hair excitedly.

No response from Gunther.

"My book is going to get a publishing date, if everything goes well," she explained anyway. Gunther was the sixth person she had told that day, having shared the news with her neighbors at their buildings mail collection, the person who runs the newspaper stand, and a woman trying to get her to sign a petition to help 'Save the Planet!'

Tara moved to the side, following Gunter as he made her drink behind the counter. "And everything should go well. My publisher says it's basically a slam dunk. Peter -my boyfriend, you've seen him around before- is taking me out to dinner to celebrate at-"

The shoving of a paper bag and a to-go coffee cup cut her off. She smiled meekly at Gunther, who looked like he was a moment away from snapping, and took the drink and the muffin.

She wished Rachel had been the one working this morning, but she'd convinced Gunther to not schedule her to open. (By 'convince' Tara meant Rachel had smiled, causing Gunther's mind to explode in just the right way). Tara was down at her and her friend's regular place, Central Perk, much too early to be joined by her friends for their morning coffee.

She was almost jealous that they all got to sleep in longer than her for the last few weeks, but she didn't regret a moment. She had been getting up early to head to her publishers office to pitch and receive edits on her manuscript. Today was the day all that work would finally pay off. Today was day that would lead to no longer being just Tara Wright. She would be Tara Wright: Published Author (and #1 New York Times Bestseller, hopefully).

"Thanks, Gunther," Tara smiled, placing a five dollar bill on the tip jar before walking onto the street.

New York was still busy, even early in the morning. The bustle of it all felt nice, springing her into action as the familiar adrenaline started pumping. She had to almost fight off an obvious tourist (the 'I HEART NYC' shirt blew his cover) to hail a Taxi.

"Global Publishers," Tara instructed as she slid into the seat.

The driver nodded and started heading down the street as Tara settled herself in. She took a slow sip of her coffee, really trying to remember this moment. She thought it might make a charming anecdote a few years from now when she would be asked about the day she found out she would be published.

She'd been practically forcing everyone around her to read her drafts since she'd started working on it a year and a half ago. Even Ross, who claimed to find any fiction book uninspired, thought it was good. Rachel and Monica had insisted on rereading it countless times.

Peter had been unbelievably supportive. He'd showered her drafts with compliments, even finding things he liked in the drafts that she considered truly awful. Ever the perfect boyfriend, he understood how much care and time she wanted to put into this, since the story was loosely based on her own experience with messily divorced parents. Peter always allowed her to take all the time she needed to write, never complaining if she asked to reschedule a date. He kept himself busy with his work, usually spending time with his new co-worker and fast friend Max.

Peter, however, was not her favorite pre-reader.

Her favorite pre-reader, though she'd never tell him since his ego would inflate to an absurd level, was Chandler. He had been the only one to actually sit down with her and question her about the story, offering actual feedback. Maybe the plot being about a broken family coming back together just spoke to him as a fellow child of divorce.

The car pulled up in front of the tall building Tara had slowly been making her home the past few months. She handed the driver what she owed him.

"Plus a twenty," she smiled as the driver took the money. "Just because!"

She slipped out of the car, well aware that her positive attitude and happy smiles were entirely off putting. In fact, some would argue even out of character. She just couldn't bring herself to care as she pushed through the spinning doors to Global Publishers main office.

———

After getting stuck in conversation with the receptionist, a painfully packed elevator ride, and waiting outside her publisher, Franny's, office for twenty minutes, she was finally about to hear the news she'd been imagining since she was a teenager.

"Right!" Franny smiled at Tara as she finished rolling about the space in her office chair and settled behind her desk. It was a real smile, not one of those customer-service smiles that office workers got so good at. No, Tara was sure Franny's smile was genuine.

"I know you're probably feeling a lot right now," Franny started, her hands shuffling through a bunch of papers in front of her.

"That's an understatement. I've cycled through enough emotions that I might hit my yearly limit soon," Tara joked. It was true; the past 48 hours have been hysteric tears followed by giddy spinning/dancing to her The Cranberries record.

Franny gave a less real tight lipped smile, clearly reaching her own limit for Tara's jokes. "I know you're probably wondering about release dates and book tours and launch parties..."

Obviously she was. She had been dreaming of hosting a reading of her own book since she was thirteen.

"And I do have some news!" Franny smiled again, drumming her fingers on the desk. Tara inched forward.

This was it.

"We are... no longer considering your book," Franny said, the smile still on her face.

Tara looked at her, utterly confused. She breathed a part-laugh-part-scoff, smiling uncomfortably back at Franny. Alright, she had to have misheard, right?

"Uhm, Franny, Fran, Fran-ster," Tara riffed, readjusted herself in the suddenly uncomfortable chair she was in. "What do you mean?"

"The company has decided to move a different direction," Franny smiled stiltedly at her, Tara now realizing it was as fake as Franny's curls. "Your book is good, don't get me wrong! But, we simply don't have room for it in the upcoming release schedule."

Her stomach felt about the same way it did after splitting that sandwich with Monica from that sketchy store down the block. She thought the muffin would come back up any second, but her throat was suddenly too scratchy for anything to happen. Franny continued to talk, explaining whatever logistics and excuses she had been fed by her bosses to ease the blow.

She suddenly forgot how to breathe. Did she breathe through her mouth or nose? She took a few deep breathes that just filled her with hot air, accomplishing nothing more than just making her more unsteady.

"What does this mean?" Tara asked, fairly certain she'd just cut Franny off from some spiel. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I mean, how can you guys just drop my book? We've been working together for months."

Months of her life, all the extra hours. The times she'd blown off Phoebe for coffee or Joey for lunch. The times she had to rearrange her whole life because this book was the only thing driving her.

Franny stared at her, blinking slowly. Like it was her that was causing the issues here. "Uhm, well you never actually signed any contract with us. Technically all the work you've been doing the past few months was freelance. We're not required to do anything with your manuscript."

It was all for nothing.

Franny continued to talk, probably explaining things that she should've been paying attention to. However, Tara's world had suddenly shifted into a weird haze. Her hearing turned in on itself, her sight becoming foggy.

At some point, Franny finished talking and Tara walked out of her office. There might have been a tense handshake exchanged there as well before Tara was back on the sidewalk in front of the building.

Many thoughts flashed through her head, including a reminder of the fact that she was now unemployed. She wished she hadn't tipped the taxi driver that much. She should've known this was too good. Good things don't happen to her, and this was simply too much.

One thought stood out the most; she wanted to cry, and the absolute last place she was going to cry was in front of Global Asshole Publishing. She didn't want to go back to her apartment, since she really couldn't handle the possibility of walking past her friends and them asking about the book. The thought of having to explain to especially Chandler, who typically made it his mission to catch her off guard in the hallway, her pathetic situation made her want to curl up and die.

"Peter," she muttered to herself, remembering that her boyfriend lived only a few blocks away from where she was. She still had him.

As she began her journey, the city grew more awake. She thanked God that this was New York, not the small suburban town outside the city she'd grew up in. No one here batted an eye at a disheveled woman walking around like her world had just been shattered on a Saturday morning.

She blended into the crowds of people waking up for morning breakfast or getting some walking in before starting their days.

Finally, she arrived at Peter's building. Peter was a lawyer, which meant his apartment was significantly nicer than Tara's. His building had a doorman, for Christ's sake.

She had been to his apartment enough to be friendly with the doorman, who let her in without a word. She was assuming her look of pure hopelessness had steered him away from even trying to greet her.

The elevator ride was both the longest and shortest thing of her life. She desperately just needed her boyfriend to hold her and tell her it would be okay. To stroke her hair gently and squeeze her tight.

Of course, she knew Peter wasn't really one for physical touch. He was much more of a gift giving person than a 'shower you with compliments and always have an arm around you' guy. She didn't mind this usually. But right now, she hoped he would just hold her.

She took out her keys to his apartment and (after a few unsuccessful attempts due to her hands shaking) let herself in. She dropped the keys on his counter and took in the empty, almost compulsively neat living area.

"Peter?" She called out, her voice wavering a little embarrassingly. He usually wasn't a big sleeper, much preferring to wake up early and go for a run, but she supposed it was a Saturday. He was probably savoring his day off.

Tara moved further into the apartment, taking in the distinct smell of her boyfriend. Pine, fresh like the mountains that Peter had made her hike a few times last spring. She was not a hiker by any means, but she did enjoy the views. Especially that of Peter's ass, if she was being honest.

The smell comforted her slightly, like a baby's safety blanket. "Babe?" She called again, reaching the door to Peter's bedroom. When there was no response, she knocked lightly and turned the door.

The light from the living room shone into the bedroom, illuminating Peter's sleeping face. Her stomach calmed for the first time since leaving her publishers office. She was okay. Peter was right there, her rock. He looked peaceful, his eyes closed softly and a faint smile on his face, even in his sleep.

She stepped into the room, starting towards the bed to lay down next to him. As she took a step on a particularly creaky floor board, the blanket next to Peter stirred.

Tara froze. What the hell?

Out from under the blanket appeared one of the most gorgeous women Tara had ever seen in her life. Even when she was still blinking the sleep from her stunningly intriguing blue eyes, she somehow looked photo shoot ready. Her blonde hair seemed immune to bed head, falling perfectly on her shoulders and framing her face. She wore a silk pajama set that hugged her body in just the right places, making her look even better.

The pit appeared back in her stomach as her throat went hoarse, the way it did the day after concerts. Her eyes darted from Beautiful Blonde to Peter, Peter to Beautiful Blonde.

"What the hell," Tara muttered, her feet now frozen in place by the door. Beautiful Blonde stared back at her, that same slow blinking that Franny had mastered earlier that morning.

"Who are you?" Tara demanded, her voice raising loud enough to finally cause Peter to stir. "Why are here? In this apartment? In this bed?"

Peter's eyes opened now. He rubbed them slowly, rubbing sleep away. However, once he realized what was happening he was suddenly wide awake. He jumped out of bed, hurling himself far away from the sheets as if they had somehow forced him into sleeping with someone else.

"Tara! Wow, hey, I- uhm," he stuttered. She felt her face morph into something that felt too pathetic to even be an emotion she felt. "This is not what it looks like!"

Tara stared at him. The man she'd called excitedly just the night before, who she'd told 'goodnight, I love you' to too many times to count. The man who she thought was simply too good for her.

"Yeah, well I'm struggling to think of what else it could be," Tara said, her voice weak with sadness. "Unless she's actually just a figment of my fucking imagination."

Beautiful Blonde's mouth fell open slightly, like she was running through a hundred different ways to start what she wanted to say.

"I'm Maxine," she spoke, her voice careful.

Suddenly, Tara's abject disappear from earlier began morphing into something uglier. Something rigid and hard.

This was the 'Max' Peter had been spending all the time she was working on her book with. Tara looked away from Maxine, her gaze landing back on Peter who looked like he was trying to blend into his wall.

She hoped her eyes shot out laser-like anger and her words dripped on him with venom, but she was pretty sure her stare was filled of tears and her voice was wavering. "This whole time?" She asked. "You've been going behind my back this whole time with... her?"

Peter darted his gaze between Maxine and Tara, both of whom started back at him. For a moment, his gaze lingered on Maxine. It was the type of linger she was used to only her being in the receiving end of, one of looks that made you feel like you two were the only ones in the world. He exchanged some kind of silent language with Maxine.

Tara felt the muffin threatening to come up again.

"You were gone so much, T," Peter said softly. His voice was gentle, like she was a child. Tara wanted to punch him. "I got so lonely, I don't know what else you wanted me to-"

"No," Tara cut him off. "I can't do this. Not right now. This isn't happening."

Peter continued to talk as her hearing and vision became weird again. A ringing in her ear was overtaking any excuses he was saying, leaving just her thoughts to echo in her mind.

She had spent the past year so obsessed with book that wasn't even good enough to be published. If it was good, they would've made room in the schedule. These last few months she'd let it consume her so much she'd driven her amazing boyfriend away. And right into fucking Maxine's arms.

She was brought back into her body when she felt a hand touch her forearm. It was a gentle hand. The one she had sought comfort out of countless times. The one she had let touch her, she had let grasp her own.

"T, you know I would never do anything to hurt you. This... I did it because I think the distance was hurting our relationship," Peter said, his hand moving up from her arm and to her cheek. She stared into his eyes, the ones she used to see nothing but warmth in. His words turned in her brain.

No. 

No, he was not putting this on her.

Tara grabbed his wrist, her finger digging deep into his skin. "Screw you. You Brown reject."

She knew the words would cut him deep, since his academic failures were always his sore spot. For a moment, she took pleasure in the hurt that flashed over his face before she just felt sick again.

Tara threw his arm off of her and turned quickly, shielding her face from him so he couldn't see her tear up as she stormed out of the room.

A/N: sorry to start off with such a long chapter, I needed to get all this exposition out. Next chapter will have the friends and the beginnings of the actual plot!