The redhead couldn't stop pacing the floors of the tidy kitchen. There was a deadline and as the publisher of this book series, her ass was on the line and she couldn't believe...

"Stop eating the damn croissants!" Abby seethed, her nose flaring with anger and utter frustration.

"But they're delicious croissants." Olivia stopped mid-bite and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

Abby huffed in defeat. She pulled a chair across the breakfast table and sat, facing her best friend. "Why don't you love me anymore, Liv? You and I, we worked because you were actually the only client that didn't give me a hard time when it came to meeting deadlines. You're Olivia Carolyn Pope. You pick up that laptop of yours, pop some popcorn and open a bottle of wine (as unhealthy as it is) and you make those characters come to life. People count on you to give them their happily ever after. You can't just not write the final book of the series after where you left off." The redhead sighed. "Beau and Kenya deserve to stand in the sun. Give the people what they want, Liv."

Olivia batted an eye and went back to sipping her hot chocolate. It's a rainy spring day in the wonderful district of Washington D.C. and she didn't want to be bothered. She just wanted to drink her chocolate in peace. Had it not been for fear that the tiny redhead might've actually brought her defenseless door down when she came banging on it at the ungodly hour of 6.00 a.m., she would've stayed in bed under the covers of her warm bed and watch an excessive amount of television.

"I'm not inspired, Abby." She finally spoke. "I don't feel it. My head is filled with ideas and it would be a lie to say otherwise. But I still don't feel it. The ideas are there, but the rush to get them down on paper isn't there. My fingers don't tingle, I'm not vibrating inside. I feel nothing..."

More than infuriated, Abby felt sad for her friend. If only Olivia knew just how talented she was, just the feelings she transpires from the words she writes and how it gives people who have nothing something to believe in... If only she knew…

"You haven't written a single word in six months." Abby stated sadly.

"I know." Olivia nodded.

"Tell me what you need Liv. Tell me what you want." Abby begged. "Anything you need, it's yours."

Olivia placed the hot cup of chocolate that was warming her hands on the table and drew in a deep breath. She brought her hands to her face and rubbed the mist from her brown eyes. As good of a friend as it makes Abby, she didn't think the redhead could give her what she actually wants or needs at this point in her life.

"It's not enough to write those words Abby." She said. "I write about those characters, I fantasize about those characters. They're mine. They're fiction but real also and writing them is starting to not be enough."

Oh?

"I need to believe in that kind of love Abby. And I don't. Not yet." Olivia explained. "I'm twenty-nine years old and where is my happy ending? I've yet to find that man that makes it all real and true for me. My Beau. It's not enough to just fantasize about him anymore and give other people hope. I'm out of hope. So what's the point?"

"The point?" Abby repeated. "The point is, Olivia, you're twenty-nine years old and I'm hearing you tell me that you're basically giving up on love. And right now, book/movie deals and potential Oscar/Emmy's aside, you're my best friend and I can't allow you; I will not allow you to do this to yourself."

The redhead pushed off the table and stood up with a scheming smile playing across her rosy cheeks.

"What is happening?" Olivia questioned.

At the moment, she was literally being dragged across her kitchen by the hem of her pajama shirt.

"You're an attractive twenty-nine year old woman." Abby stated.

"Yes. I'm aware." Olivia replied.

"And this is Washington D.C."

"Last time I checked, yes."

"So we're going out tonight."

"We are?"

"Yes." Abby nodded. "The rain should pass soon and it should be a beautiful night later, so we are going to go out. We're gonna go out and be single, young and beautiful."

It was sort of a done-deal thing when Abby started roaming the insides of her closet like the fashion diva that she is. She was pulling out dresses left from right, pairing accessories and shoes, etc...

Olivia knew then she didn't have a say. Even if she protested.

Tonight one way or another, she was going out and she preferred not to be dragged out of her apartment by her hair so therefore, she had no say.

"We're gonna get your mojo back, Liv." Abby smiled excitedly. "And no one rocks white like you do. You need standing in the sun more than Beau and Kenya right now."

888

This is going to be my first multi-chapter Scandal fanfiction, (hopefully) and I'm so hoping you guys enjoyed this first chapter. It's short but there's more to come soon depending on your feedbacks. So leave a review and let me know what you guys thought. Until next time…