This will be the only authors note I'll write throughout the whole story so please read this one time.

A while ago someone asked me what happened to a story that I once posted and then took down. I took it down because I didn't like the direction I was taking it, I was rushing into it and I moved too fast, so I dropped it. Up until now I've been rewriting that story during any free time I had. I believed it was going to be my new favorite story line I've ever written. I wrote about 3 chapters then I left the site for 90 days and I lost it all. Honestly, I didn't remember anything I had written and decided it was a sign to quit altogether. I got some ugly DM's and Reviews on the last story I posted and like any teenager, it hurt. I decided to remove that one as well and discontinue the one that I was in the middle of.

But through the years I still had this desire to express my imagination and my love for the show. About a year ago, I came back on and started writing again. The chapters are short, but they will be consistent as I held back from posting until a had a good portion of the story written (14 ch). I'll be updating once a week, maybe more if I'm feeling ambitious. If you want an update sooner all you have to do is post a comment - positive or negative - honestly, I don't care. The more feedback I receive the more confidence I'll get to update sooner.

So with that being said, here is my rewrite of A Mistake Worth Living.

Coffee Anyone? - Mon POV

Blood seeps from the walls, finger nail markings are visible on the inside of the door, employees leave with bloodshot eyes and bruised knuckles. No one truly knows what goes on beyond these four walls. Light bulbs are changed every other day from the long hours spent inside the chamber. Half of the people here don't even realize there is a basement where...

"Ms. Geller?"

Jumping, my eyes widen and I make eye contact with the man at the head of the table.

"Did you want to vote?"

Slyly looking around the table I glaze Rachel's eyes before clearing my throat and focusing once more on Mr. Bing. "I think it's a..." Sitting up straight, I drop my pen and take a deep breath "It's important that we advertise to not only catch the children's interest but the parents approval."

He nods and I release the carbon from my lungs knowing that was the answer he has looking for.

"Then it's settled." Pushing off the table, he points to the employee opposite of him "Nancy, get your team together and go over the finishing touches on the ad. I'd like to see the final copy on my desk by the end of the day." He announces.

Looking over, I watch as Nancy writes everything down on her notebook paper. That would have been a smart thing to do; take notes.

Dropping the yellow mania folder on top of the long meeting table, Mr. Bing grabs his suit jacket from the back of the chair, "Have a great weekend everyone, and I'll see you all on Monday."

Quickly, I gather the papers in front of me before dashing out of there.

I hate meetings, these types especially. Who singles someone out like that?

Being in advertising was my Plan B in college. I wanted to be a chef and open my own bakery where I would sell pastries and croissants. I wanted to have regulars that I could get to know every morning before they went off to work. But most importantly, I wanted to have that perfect husband and those amazing kids that would come visit me during my slow hours.

All that changed when I walked into the classroom of the beginners course. My palms were sweaty; I was so nervous. The cookie sheet that was in front of us for a visual aid was being described by the instructor.

I regretted picking it up to examine it closer as she talked about the texture of the pan. Let's refer back to the beginning of this story when I explained that my palms were sweaty...

It was too late as my grip on the pan loosened and it dropped to the floor with a loud bang; getting everyone's attention. I looked up to find the instructor looking anything but happy as she glared at me. I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed my bag and left without a word. I didn't apologize or explain why I disrupted the class on the very first day.

After that, I couldn't show my face in the classroom again. I wanted to be known, but not in that way.

Anyway, I was going to sign back up the following year; in hope that no one would remember that incident. But I was already deep into my business courses. I knew that I would be behind in my credits and possibly get a year, if not more, of college added onto my career. I didn't want to pay an extra 20 grad just to start over. Besides, a business major has a better employment rate than someone in culinary.

So, here I am in advertising while culinary is far from my reality.

I'm not the best when it comes to choosing a career path, especially one that will mold your future.

"You were about to be dead meat in that meeting room."

Looking over I find Rachel walking beside me. Her hand is on my back as she steers me towards her desk.

Rachel and I are in this thing called a square. There are two long desks on both sides, an employee in each corner, and an opening that people can walk right on through. I met Rachel the day I began at Bing's Advertising Agency and was fortunate enough to share a desk with her. I honestly could say I'm still working here because of her.

"Rache, don't start." As much as I love my best friend, sometimes she can be a little dramatic when speaking about the boss.

Unfortunately, she ignores my plea and continues "Did you see those gorgeous blue eyes of his just staring straight back at you? I swear, I'm being diagnosed with asthma because of him." She sighs contently "He just takes your breath away, doesn't he?"

Rolling my eyes, I grab my seat and slouch back. "I don't know what you guys see in him. He is self-centered and lazy, and-and just plan spiteful." My hand goes up to mess with the tare in my arm rest as all the girls in our square gasp.

I never win this argument.

"Mon, you forgot to mention his charm." Rachel grins as the other two, who I believe are both named Ashley, nod in agreement. They always seem to agree with whatever we have to say; except for when I argue about Mr. Bing.

The stares he receive don't go unnoticed while he sits in his office with his tie loosened. The late nights where he paces back and forth around his desk with the phone up to his ear is practically routine.

All the ladies on the floor take the long way back to their desk just so they can pass his office. The lingering touch of his hands as they grab for the documents, are to the point of annoying. He's the boss, get over your crush!

"I don't know what you mean?" I say rather dumbfounded "He has a charm?" I ask, standing from my desk with my mug in hand.

Rachel follows me to the break room to get more coffee. She knows I'm playing dumb with her, which is good, because it would be hard to explain my stupidity if she didn't catch on. "You don't see it?" She asks

I shrug "Charm? No." I say simply "But I do see the stares and hear the giggling from teenage girls who can't get over the hot boss." I tease, making sure to emphasize on the word "hot" so she knows I'm only saying it for the sake of my point.

Choosing a red apple from the basket on the counter I take a bite as I look over at the empty pitcher. "You know, it's a rule that if you empty the pitcher, you are incharge of making another round." I say the last part louder so that people around me can understand my frustration.

Grabbing the pitcher out of the maker, I bring it over to the sink to fill it with water. "It's not the looks that drive me insane," I glace over at Rachel so she can hear me over the running water "It's more like the way he thinks he is charming." Swishing the water around I pour it out before starting over "With that glowing smile and those irresistible blue eyes...it's just annoying how he is asking for attention."

Rachel's eyes go wide but I ignore it. She's probably just shocked that I said "irresistible blue eyes."

"It's like, damn dude, don't comb your hair one day." I shake my head, chuckling. Turning off the facet, I spin around to grab coffee grains from the cabinet. "I mean, if he-" I gasp as I watch my pitcher hit his suit. Water slowly spills down his white shirt and drips on his shoes "Shit-" I can't believe that just happened "I'm so-sorry." I watch as he looks down at the dripping water. He is now standing in a puddle of disgusting coffee flavored H20.

I might as well just escort myself out of the building.

Quickly, I put down the half empty pitcher as Rachel hands me some paper towels. "I am so, so, so sorry." I apologize as I go to dab at his suit before stopping myself and handing him the rag. "You can probably do that." I try not to make eye contact with him.

Glancing over at Rachel I exhale slowly.

"Ah...nothing like a tinted yellow stain to start your Friday." He smiles softly but I don't follow his joke.

"I am so sorry." I don't know what else to say. He is looking down as he dabs at his shirt and it's then that I realize he has no bald spot. I sigh. Perfect. Does this man have any flaws?

Rachel grabs some more paper towels and reaches behind me to wet a few. "Here. Try this." She gives him a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks." He mumbles, grabbing the new set of towels that are reached out to him.

Is this considered karma? I was complimenting the guy, this shouldn't be karma.

"Is there anything I can get you? I clean shirt, a Starbucks?" I offer, praying he doesn't fire me. It's the holiday season, he can't fire me. Can he?

Finally, his pupils meet mine and he must see the panic in my eyes because he doesn't do any of the sort. "No, that's fine. You've done enough." He tells me, before turning and walking out.

My eyes stay fixed on the spot he was just standing, before I finally glare at my best friend "A little heads up would have been nice, Rache."

"My eyes widened-"

"Oh!" I gasp "I'm sorry, I guess I didn't understand clearly enough. Next time, maybe wiggle your eyebrows too." I finally reach over to grab the grains and finish making the coffee.

"Hey, he didn't fire you." She points out, grabbing the pitcher beside me to refill it. "You should still get him a Starbucks to make up for it, though."

I stop what I'm doing and throw my hands up in exhaustion "Then what the hell am I making coffee for?"