Disclaimer: Glee is not mine


Your friends are your release - They're who you have the most fun with, and yet when the going gets tough, those people turn around and suddenly they're not just making you laugh, they're being this rock and giving you all their advice. Even though you are so much your own person, if you dissect yourself, I guarantee you your friends are in there. Their influence is incredible. Best friends are what you need most.

-Unknown


Thursday

Despite having lived in New York State for 11 years and Manhattan for the past 7 years, Finn Hudson had never gotten used to the traffic. Having grown up in tiny Lima, Ohio before moving to Long Island just before high school, he was unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of city life. The 4 years he spent at NYU showed him the nightmare that is New York traffic, and as a result, one of the first things he did after graduating was to purchase a motorcycle, which allowed him to easily maneuver through the dreaded early morning traffic.

He was just parking his motorcycle in front of his office building (another perk!) when he heard the familiar sound of high heels clicking on the pavement. Looking up, Finn saw that his suspicions were correct. Santana Lopez, the exotic beauty who worked in the same office as Finn, was striding towards him, magazine in hand.

"Why hello, Finnegan, are you just arriving? I've already been to one meeting and am about to have another," Santana announced in her usual 'I'm better than you and I know it' tone.

Finn, used to Santana's condescending tone, simply looked at the magazine in her hand and asked, "Maquillage? Trying to find out the best shoes to wear to cause a mind blowing orgasm?"

"I hardly need help in that department. For your information, Quinn and I have an appointment at Maquillage. They're the fastest growing women's magazine in the country. Of course, you'd need to actually read something other than Playboy to know that. William wants to secure some advertising space with them, and naturally, he selected Quinn and me. Tell you what. I'm feeling generous today. I'll leave this copy of Maquillage on top of the toilet for you to peruse." With a final sneer in his direction, Santana turned and began walking away.

She may be a complete Ice Queen, but that didn't stop Finn from admiring the view as she sauntered away. Shaking his head, he grabbed his backpack and walked into the building, riding the elevator up to Schuester Advertising. When the doors opened, he was surprised to find Mike and Artie, his associates, waiting for him.

"Dude, where have you been? Big News!" Artie announced wheeling his wheelchair alongside Finn and Mike as they made their way to Finn's office.

"What happened?" Finn asked, setting his backpack down and sitting at his desk.

"Turns out you were right. Puckerman is looking for new representation!" Mike cried eager to share the news.

"I knew it! Puckerman owns more than half of the diamond industry. If we can get that account, we'll be set for life. Where's Will? I gotta get to him. You guys start drafting a pitch," Finn jumped up, ready to march into Will Schuester's office and demand that the boss give him and his team the account. He noticed Artie and Mike shifting uncomfortably. "What?"

"Schuester gave it to the Ice Queens," Mike reluctantly said. "They're already on their way to Maquillage to secure ad space."

"No way! Schuester's got to be kidding. I was the one who found out about this! This should be ours, not Quinn and Santana's!"

"Are you forgetting that we're the sports division? Diamonds don't exactly fit in our area of expertise," Artie added, trying to be the voice of reason.

"I'm talking to Will about this. He can't just give it to the Ice Queens because they flirt with him all the time. They have a boob advantage! Is he in his office yet?" Finn asked.

"He's in L.A. remember?"

"Finn, I have your messages for you," Allie, his secretary, announced, knocking lightly on the door as she walked in. Eyeing Finn up and down appreciatively, she handed him his messages before adding, "Isn't it great news about the Puckerman account? I heard Will is flying back from L.A. early just to discuss specifics with Quinn and Santana tonight."

Finn, oblivious to Allie's wandering eye, turned to look at her. "Yea, I heard that too. Weren't they meeting at 7:00?" he questioned casually, hoping Allie would take the bait.

She did.

"No, 6:00 at McKinley's. Don't forget you have a 12 o'clock with Nike," she called over her shoulder as she sauntered out the door.

Finn, Mike and Artie looked at each other. Without a word, they got down to work on the Puckerman pitch.

The Ice Queens were going down.


Rachel sat at her computer deep in thought. She'd been trying to figure out what exactly she could write about this month. As Maquillage's "How to" girl, she was expected to write on a wide range of topics, provided she stuck to the big three: fashion, cosmetics, and celebrities. As a result, she'd written fascinating articles like "How to rock that weird shade of lipstick," and "How to get a celebrity to answer your tweet."

She sighed. When she took the job at Maquillage, she had just graduated with honors from Columbia, ready to get on The New York Times Bestseller List. This job was supposed to provide a paycheck while Rachel wrote her novel. Yet, 7 years after graduating, she was still at Maquillage and the only novel she'd written was in her dreams.

"Mercedes still isn't here."

Rachel looked up, startled. "I haven't seen her all morning actually." She followed Tina's line of vision over to Mercedes' desk. The computer was switched off, and there was no Starbucks cup on her desk, a sure sign something was amiss.

"How much do you want to bet this has something to do with last night?" Tina asked. After Tom had fled, they had escorted a hysterical Mercedes to the nearest convenience store, stocked up on Haagen-Dazs, and proceeded to go back to Mercedes' apartment to guy bash, as was standard custom whenever there was a break up or dumping among the three.

Before Rachel could answer, Mercedes appeared in the office. Devoid of any make-up, her eyes red rimmed from crying, she was dressed in old sweats and carrying a box of tissues. Her hair looked as if she had just woken up and didn't brush it. Ignoring the stares, of her co-workers, Mercedes made her way over to Rachel and Tina.

"It's over," she stated flatly. "I called him twenty-five times last night and he didn't answer. Not once. I had to keep leaving messages on his machine." Pulling a tissue out of the box she continued, "It was going so well. I don't know what happened. Why does this always happen to me? It starts out perfect and then explodes in my face and I end up mystified as to why, not to mention ten pounds heavier from all the ice cream." She accentuated this statement with a loud honk as she blew her nose.

"Well maybe you came on too strong…" Rachel began but was interrupted by a voice on the intercom.

"Staff Meeting five minutes!"

"Do you feel up to going?" Rachel asked sympathetically. "We can tell Emma you're sick."

"No, I'll go," Mercedes answered, linking her arm through Tina's as they proceeded into Emma's conference room. Knowing their boss was very anal about germs and cleanliness, the girls automatically took off their shoes at the door before sitting on Emma's immaculate furniture.

"Ok guys; let's hear what you have planned for next month. Brittany. Go." Emma settled onto her couch, looking at the perky blonde sitting on her left.

"Well, I already finished the article about "What Your Eyeglass Frames Say About You" and now I'm working on "Ten Things You Should Know About Your Gynecologist" and then I'm going to…."

Rachel tuned out Brittany. She heard Tina whispering to Mercedes. "Maybe Tom just needs some time. Like Rachel said, maybe you came on too strong. It happens to all of us. We want the relationship so bad that we go a little crazy."

"Oh please, tell that to Heidi Klum. She could puke on a guy and he'd still be all over her," Mercedes whispered back.

Just as Rachel opened her mouth to add to the clandestine conversation, Emma turned to Mercedes. "What's up with my music columnist? What can we look forward to next month?"

"I, uh, well that is..." Mercedes sputtered. She'd barely thought about her article.

"She got dumped," Tina announced, coming to Mercedes' aid.

"Ohhh nooo, poor Mercedes. How long has it been?" Emma and the rest of the staff wore matching looks of sympathy.

"It's been 15 hours. I haven't been able to eat or sleep since the split," Mercedes answered truthfully.

"I must say you are looking…." Emma paused, a curious look on her face, the staff waiting patiently for her to continue.

Emma looked around the group. Mercedes mentioning that she hadn't eaten or slept since the split had brought to mind her own past breakups. She remembered one particularly bad breakup when she sat outside the guy's house for hours crying and singing along to "All By Myself" over and over again until he called the cops on her. The fact that Emma would have been humiliated to have that incident published for all to see escaped her thought process as a new idea germinated in her mind.

"Mercedes, what do you think caused the breakup?" Emma questioned, the curious look still plastered on her face. She needed confirmation before unveiling her new idea.

"I have no idea. It started off so well, but then he started getting really busy. I kept calling him, but he would hardly ever answer. When he did answer, he was always busy or about to go somewhere and had to get off the phone. It must be because I'm too fat."

A chorus of "you're not fat" broke out among the staff members.

Mercedes nodded, firmly convinced of this. "He always said I wasn't too fat every time I asked him, but that must be it."

"Perfect." Emma was practically purring. She loved when good ideas snuck up on her and this was a winner. She was so absorbed in finalizing her idea in her head that she almost missed Mercedes' next comment.

"I'm sorry, why is my getting dumped perfect?"

"Because I have an amazing idea for a new article! Everyday people get dumped and they honestly have no clue why. Mercedes, you are a fantastic person; you're smart, funny and caring. Yet you just got dumped. Why? What is it we do that drives men away? Those first few weeks of dating leave us with such a high; it drives us to do crazy things. I mean, come on, who among us hasn't met a guy and immediately started planning our wedding and future kid's names? Who hasn't been clingy or needy in the effort to hold on to a guy?" Emma looked around the group attempting to gauge their reactions to her idea so far. A few were looking at her warily, but most seemed interested waiting for more details about the article. She paused for effect before continuing.

"How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days!" she proudly announced. "Rachel Berry. Go."

Rachel looked up startled. "Excuse me?"

"You will start dating a guy, but drive him away using the classic mistakes girls make. Be clingy, needy, touchy feely. Whatever you have to do. It's like dating, but your aim will be to get dumped!"

"But I'm not a relationship writer! I write about celebrities and cosmetics!" Rachel exclaimed, horrified that she'd been chosen for this article. Why me? I have practically zero experience with dating and relationships. Here was her chance to impress Emma, and she was going to bomb spectacularly.

"Nevertheless, I have chosen you for the article," Emma said, ignoring Brittany's raised hand and proclamations of "I'll do it! I'll do it!"

Rachel threw looks at Tina and Mercedes, silently begging them to help her. Mercedes looked unsure of what to do, but Tina made a last ditch attempt to help.

"Emma, I think the idea is fantastic, I really do, but don't you think someone more experienced with writing about relationships might be better suited for this? And why only 10 days?"

"Rachel's a big girl; she'll be able to handle it. And to answer your second question Tina, 5 days is too short and we go to press in 11 days," Emma replied, smiling. "Now, what's next for Fashion Forward with Tina?"


Rachel couldn't believe how slowly the rest of the meeting went. She barely paid attention to anyone else, still horrified at being singled out for this assignment.

Rachel Berry did not date.

In high school, her one and only "boyfriend" had broken up with her by publicly making out with another girl in the courtyard…while Rachel was online paying for his lunch. She'd come back to the table, lunch in hand, only to have Jesse stop sucking face and say "just put it on the table and leave us alone, will you?" Rachel had been mortified to find out that what she assumed was a relationship was really just Jesse using her to run errands. He'd never even really kissed her in public or taken her anywhere, but she thought he just didn't like PDA. She'd dumped the lunch on the table and ran to have a good cry in the bathroom. She'd eventually come out of the bathroom to find Jesse waiting to officially dump her in the hallway. The memory of Jesse's words still stung her. Why would I date you when there are so many hotter girls? Since then, she'd completely avoided relationships and dating, throwing herself into her writing.

Rachel was so used to being alone that she was able to feign confidence when it came to men, because she knew she wouldn't follow through with it. It was easier -and safer- to spin fantasies about her dating life in her head or writing "scenes" of dates in a notebook she kept for just that purpose. She was content to sit home waiting for the phone call to hear about how Mercedes' and Tina's dates went. She had no idea what the classic mistakes were that girls made. Fortunately, she had witnessed the train wreck of a date last night, so she figured she could start there. She'd need to pick Mercedes' and Tina's brains to see if they could add more outrageous behaviors.

"Rachel! Please don't forget to give me a day by day draft of each date. And remember if he takes you to a restaurant, please bring some cleaning wipes. One never knows how they wash the silverware," Emma called out, shuddering at the thought of dirty silverware.

"Of course, Emma, no problem," Rachel called back, grabbing Tina while Mercedes ran to the cafeteria to get their lunches.

Once in the safety of her cubicle, she began to panic. "I can't do this! Why did she have to pick me? I can't even get a guy interested in me, let alone dump me!"

Tina grabbed her by the shoulders. "Ok, listen to me. You can do this. Emma picked you because you are a fantastic writer. You may not have dated a lot or been dumped, but I have, and we both know Mercedes has been dumped. The two of us will help you through this. When Mercedes gets back with our lunch, we'll all compare war stories and think of things that drive guys crazy. Sound good?"

Rachel merely nodded, collapsing into her desk chair and thinking that someone like Tina would have been better for this article since she's always going on dates. Mercedes soon returned, and the girls got to work over their sandwiches and salads.

"Well, Emma already mentioned three, touchy-feely, clingy, and whiny," Tina began. Rachel took out a legal pad and began taking notes.

"What about baby talk?" Mercedes asked, thinking back on her date last night.

"Yea, baby talk is a must! It's even better if you can give him an embarrassing nickname to call him in front of his friends!" Tina exclaimed, laughing.

Half an hour later, the girls had created a master list of things that were sure to send any man running for the hills. Rachel was beginning to feel better about the article. As long she stuck to the list, she might be ok. Looking down at the list, she cleared her throat and read aloud:

"How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days"

Be clingy, whiny and needy

Be touchy-feely

Use baby talk frequently

A nickname is a must, the more embarrassing the better

Embarrass him in public

Infiltrate his family and friends

Call him constantly

Be emotional and hormonal

"Well? Sound good? Should we add any more?" Rachel bit her lip, worried that this might not be enough to get her through this assignment.

"No, let's just start with that and see how it goes," Tina decided. "Now where should we go to find you a man?"

The girls were just making plans to go trolling for a man tonight when Emma walked into Rachel's cubicle, accompanied by two women Rachel had never seen before.

"Oh, girls here you are. I'd like you to meet Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez from Schuester Advertising. They're going to create some fabulous tie-ins between Puckerman Diamonds and Maquillage!" Emma announced, indicating the two women next to her. "Quinn, Santana, this is Tina Cohen-Chang, our fashion columnist, Mercedes Jones, our music diva, and Rachel Berry, our "How to" girl." Quinn and Santana acknowledged each introduction with a cool nod and Rachel could practically feel the frostiness emanating from them. At the mention of Rachel being the "How to" girl, the Hispanic looking girl suddenly turned to her, looking her critically up and down.

""How to" girl? How cute, I bet your column is very amusing," Santana said, in an almost bored tone. Rachel bristled. It was one thing for her to make fun of her own column, but for a complete stranger to mock it, well that was too much.

Emma, still on her high from realizing that the Puckerman deal would take care of her advertising quota for the year, failed to hear the mocking in Santana's voice. "Isn't it a wonderful column? Wait till you hear what she's going to be doing next! She's actually going to start dating a guy and drive him crazy with all the insane mistakes girls make in order to get dumped within ten days! It's going to be madness!"

Quinn and Santana giggled politely. "Oh sounds needlessly vicious!" Santana exclaimed, not wanting to get on Emma's bad side. Truthfully, she thought that Rachel in her little girl sweater set and plaid skirt wouldn't have to do much to get dumped.

"Isn't it?" Turning to Rachel, Emma continued, "Now hurry along and find some poor unsuspecting boy to torture!"

The girls went back to their planning. Operation Get Dumped, as Tina dubbed it, was set to begin at 6:00 tonight.


A/N: Maquillage is French for cosmetics/make-up.