Okay, so I've been having this idea of a Once Upon a Time version of the Holiday. This is the prologue, and depending on the response, I might continue this. Let me know, okay? Love you guys!

I have found almost everything ever written about love, to be true. Shakespeare said, 'Journeys end in lover's meeting.' Oh, what an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I'm more than willing to believe, Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I'm constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said 'Love is blind.'

Now that is something I know to be true.

For some, quite inexplicably, love fades.

For others, love is simply lost.

But then of course, love can also be found. Even if just for the night.

And then there's another kind of love. The cruellest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories? Those of us who fall in love alone.

Emma stopped writing for a moment to look over at the busy party going on outside of her office. Her heart was aching as she wrote this, but it had to be done. She had to deliver this article before midnight. But she hated writing about her own life. She hated doing this nonsense.

Why was she always stuck with the stupid articles?

We are the victims of the one-sided affair, we are the cursed of the loved ones, we are the unloved ones, the walking wounded, the handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space.

Oh screw this, she was going out there and have some fun with Regina. This was a Christmas party, for Pete's sake! She saved the article so she could call it up later, and left her silent office for the deafening noise outside. She spotted him immediately, and her heart clenched.

Yes, you are looking at one such individual. Emma continued her article in her head, likes always when she wasn't quite done yet. Emma stared at him conversing with their colleagues, a glass of champagne in his hand, looking like he owned the fucking place, and sighed. Three horrible years, the worst Christmases, the worst birthdays, New Year's Eves brought in with tears and Valium.

Neal Cassidy had been the subject of her obsession for those three years, and she just couldn't get over him. She spotted Regina from across the room, and made her way over to her. "Hey – oh!" Emma grabbed the glass out of Regina's hand and gulped it down while his smile made her stomach ache. "Oh, Neal. I thought that was over? That you were done!"

"It is – I am!" Emma exclaimed, indignantly, but she bit her lip at the same time. Who was she kidding? God, just the sight of him. Throat thickening, heart pounding, absolutely can't swallow.

"What is the story with you two anyway? Weren't you sleeping with him?" Regina asked for the thousandth time. She couldn't get enough of hearing this, especially when she was drunk – which was now.

Emma rolled her eyes, but she didn't have anything else to talk about. "I was in love with him, Regina. Then I found out he was fucking that tramp Tamara from upstairs – which is when I stopped sleeping with him, by the way." she added pointedly. If she wasn't careful, Regina and her evil tendencies would turn this into something even more scandalous, and she did not need then.

"But you two are always together, why in the world would you stay friends with him when he cheated on you?"

Emma sighed, feeling the familiar burn of tears behind her eyes, but she pushed them back. No showing any weaknesses on an office party. "I was head over heels, and the worst part is that everyone knew." Regina rubbed her arm, and she knew she was crying again. She was so done with the crying thing. She couldn't even remember the last time she didn't cry herself to sleep. "Does it look like I'm crying right now?" she whispered.

"No!" Regina said, looking over her shoulder. "It looks like it's the smoke from that goddamned cigarette. YO ROBIN HOOD!" Regina yelled at the man behind her. Emma couldn't stop a smile. "PUT THAT THING OUT, YOU'RE POISONING ALL OF US!"

Emma felt a warm presence behind her. "Apologies, milady." Robin said in that perfect accent of his. "I shall put it out immediately."

"Thank you, sir." Regina said, before a mischievous smile appeared on her lips. Regina and Robin – her and Emma's boss mind you – had been sleeping together for weeks now. Then she returned her attention to Emma. "Did he ever told you that he loved you back?"

"Three, almost four times! And when I reminded him of that, he said that it must've been as an answer to a question, which I can assure you, it was not!" Emma said.

Regina rubbed her eyes in exasperation, and Emma knew what was coming from miles away. "You know, miss Swan, when you catch your guy doing someone else, you're not supposed to stay friends with him. You're supposed to throw things at him, scream, call him names! Not clean his fucking house for him!"

Emma gasped. That was new, she hadn't heard that before. "What the – ? I don't clean his house, did someone tell you that?!" she whispered sharply. Regina blinked, another rumour burst for her. "No, all we do is...have lunch. When he's not with her, of course. And we talk on the phone, sometimes for hours." She heard herself talking and wanted to kick herself in the gut. What the hell was she doing with her life?

"You really are pathetic, you know that?" Regina said, her evil tone of voice coming through. She only used that on Emma when she wanted to convey a point loud and clear.

And convey it she did. "Oh God, I'm so aware of it." Before she could say anything else, like excuse herself and get the fuck out of here, Robin tapped her on the shoulder.

"Emma, have you finished your article yet? I need it on my desk before midnight, you know that!"

She looked at her phone and freaked a little. "Oh shit. No, sorry, I just have to type out the final words. I'll mail it to you in a few minutes." Robin nodded, and Emma fled to her office, where she typed the final paragraph.

We are the victims of the one-sided affair, we are the cursed of the loved ones, we are the unloved ones, the walking wounded, the handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space.

We are forever alone.