“Can I borrow yours?” I asked the barista. He seemed to think for minutes, fingers rhythmically tapping the counter then shrugged, “Well, I have to bring it from my apartment, so you can’t read it today, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just go buy it?”

“I’m saving money and you don’t have to worry about me stealing your comics dude, I’ll just read them here.”

“You’re…gonna come back here?”

“Yeah, otherwise how can I know if Rachel works here or not?” I looked around, noticing that the sleep deprived college girl over there had knocked out already. Man, if I could say one advice to kids out there I’d say…just sleep, okay? Ignore those people who say work hard and you can sleep when you die, you won’t, look at me! Do I look like someone who got their beauty sleep every night? No. 

“Rachel? We’ve got no Rachel here…There’re only me and other gu—Oh, you mean Rachel, Rachel? Like Ross-Rachel.”

“Yeah, why do you think I came here for? A cup of coffee?”

“I thought you just want to see my pretty face of course,” The barista said, smiling (with his pretty face). “Just kidding. We’ve got a lot of Friends’ fan. My boss is the one naming this place… This is not the official ‘Central Perk café’ though, so no orange couch, no actual Rachel…There’re many Central Perk café here because of the show. We’re one of them apparently. Here, I even made the map just for fun.” The guy bent down and picked something from under the counter and handed it to me.

It was a freaking map of fucking coffee shops named Central Perk spot around New York City. It meant that if there were this many café then it meant this coffee shop—this person may or may not be the human I needed. 

There were good news and bad news, good news, he may not have to die 30 days from now on. But here was the bad news, the bad news was…then who?