It was late. Cold night air crept into the bar every time someone opened the door; but that was not often. A low hum of music played from a dusty old machine in the back, but no one was dancing. No one was even smiling, except the two men sitting at the bar, who were earning many dirty looks from the inebriated shadows of people all around them. They were ruining the 'drink away your sorrows' atmosphere by laughing and clinking their beers. One of them, a handsome man with dark hair and eyes to match, was holding a bunch of papers with lines highlighted. "I'm playing the part of this guy Percy." he said, pointing at one of the highlighted lines. "This is my big scene."
The other, a skinny brown-haired man wearing a sweater vest, replied, "And you want me to read as who? This Marco guy?" He was slurring somewhat.
"Uh, that says Marvin. And actually, I was hoping you'd read as Sophie."
The second man rolled his eyes. "I dunno, Joey, I'm pretty drunk. I don't think I'll be so good. I can hardly read and stuff."
Joey laughed. "God, Chandler, you're such a lightweight."
"I know." The second man, Chandler, laughed softly. "You're gonna have to carry me home or something."
"Wait, are we leavin' now, then?" asked Joey.
"Nah. One more drink."
"Whatever you say." Joey motioned for the bartender to bring two more beers their way.
The bartender glanced at Chandler. "Sure he needs another one?"
"Yes." Chandler said firmly.
"He's fine." Joey added. "We live real close to here, so we aren't driving anywhere."
"Alright, that's fine then." The bartender passed Joey two beers. Joey gave one to Chandler, who fumbled a bit before cracking the top open.
"Thanks, Joe."
"No problem, Chan." As Joey watched his roommate start on the newest beer, he realized that it wasn't really like Chandler to get that drunk. Obviously something was on his roommate's mind. But maybe he would never find out because a few sips of the beer and Chandler was even more incomprehensible than he had been before.
"Do you like foosball, Joe? 'Cause I do. Wow, I wish they had a foosball table here. That would be great, huh?"
"Yeah." Joey responded. "That'd be great."
"Of course, we could always go home and play it in our place. Oh my God," Chandler exclaimed suddenly. "We live together. Isn't that crazy?"
Joey stared back at his roommate, a blank look in his dark eyes. "Uh, yeah. Maybe we should head back there now."
"No, no, Joe, we're fine here." said Chandler. "Hey, I want to tell you something. I mean… no, never mind. I don't."
"What is it?" asked Joey. A rush of giddiness hit him. Although he wasn't quite as drunk as Chandler- and he could hold his liquor much better- he was still pretty drunk, and his emotions were getting away from him. "Are we tellin' secrets now?"
"Yeah. Uh-huh." Chandler nodded, grinning stupidly. "You first."
"Nah, you brought it up, dude. You first."
"You brought it up."
"No, you did, Chan, you said you wanted to tell me something." argued Joey. "You first."
"Fine." Chandler took another swig of his beer before speaking. "Okay, I got one. Y'know how everyone thinks I'm gay? And it's so damn irritating? And I hate it?"
"Uh, yeah?" Joey was quite familiar with Chandler's aversion to being mistakenly called gay. He had assumed that Chandler was gay when he first met him and Chandler's homophobia had eventually made him feel guilty about it, though it had been a valid assumption on his part. He wasn't the only one who had questioned Chandler's sexuality; far from it.
"Well, they had me pegged from the start. You did too, Joe." Chandler sighed hotly, and took another sip. "I am."
"What?" Obviously, Joey had misheard his roommate. "I don't think I heard you right."
"I am. I'm gay." Chandler confessed, throwing up his arms in the air. "I dunno how it happened. Someone told me it's genetic, but I think that's bullshit. I think it's… it's just my luck, man, I mean really. Someone up there is out to get me."
"Wow." remarked Joey. "I mean, just… I wasn't expecting that. You're really gay?"
"I think so." Chandler's brow furrowed. "That's okay, isn't it? I mean, you're okay with it?"
"Of course." Joey said quickly. "Don't worry."
"Oh good." Chandler replied. "Thanks, man."
Just then, one of the other men sitting around the bar laughed loudly, shaking his scotch at Chandler and Joey. "You two are gay?"
"Just me." Chandler said. "You got a problem with that?"
"Yeah." The man stood up, banging his drink down onto the counter as he did so. Droplets of golden alcohol were scattered all around. He was obviously as drunk as Chandler was or possibly even more so, but like Joey, could hold his liquor.
Chandler stood up immediately as well. "I could still take you." he threatened.
"Shut up, Chandler." Joey hissed at his friend. Chandler was no Superman even when he was sober, and had his wits about him. Especially considering how drunk he was, Joey was sure he would lose and just wind up getting hurt. "Just sit back down."
"You wanna fight, pretty boy?" the man asked Chandler.
"Bring it on."
"Chandler, stop." Joey warned. "You're going to, like, die. I'm serious."
"Don't worry, Joe. I'm fine." Chandler reassured his roommate, though it didn't really work. "I've just gotta teach this... this idiot a lesson."
"No, you don't." Before he knew it, Joey was on his feet as well. His heart was pounding, although he felt like there was alcohol coursing through his veins instead of blood.
Chandler raised his fists. The other man scoffed at him. "Your friend's right. Step down."
"No way."
"Chandler. Stop it. Let's go home."
That wasn't going to happen. Chandler threw the first punch. It hit the other man in the chest, and he didn't even blink. He threw a punch back, and it hit Chandler square in the face. He stumbled backward with a shout, hands flying up to cover his face, and ended up tripping over a bar stool. Crash! He was sprawled on the grimy bar floor. Joey heard some muffled groaning from where his roommate had fallen. Immediately, anger surged up inside of him, scalding hot and inescapable, placing handcuffs around his wrists that only revenge could open. Before he could douse the surge of lavalike lividness, before he even knew what he was doing, Joey had swung a punch of his own at the stranger who had socked his best friend.
It was a fair hit. Even when drunk, Joey was good. Screaming profanity, the stranger held one hand to his nose, which was starting to bleed. With his other hand he grabbed Joey by the collar of his shirt. The Italian actor aimed a kick at the other man's knees. However, the bartender rushed over before he could land his kick, and gave both of them a violent shove, effectively separating them. "Stop it! Stop!"
Joey was breathing hard. "He punched-"
"I know. I saw." The bartender looked angry. "Get out. All three of you."
The other man glared around at Joey and the bartender before storming out, still pressing a hand to his nose. All three of us? Joey thought momentarily, and then his eyes widened. Chandler. He knelt down on the floor next to his roommate. "Hey, man, you okay?"
The skin around Chandler's left eye was bright pink and looked tender. Joey could tell that a bruise would be there in the morning, although he wasn't sure if Chandler would even notice through the mother of all hangovers that he would have. "Hurts." was all Chandler said.
"I know it does. C'mon, buddy, we gotta go."
"I'm gonna go to sleep now, Joe."
"No, no, get up. We're going home." Joey grabbed Chandler under the armpits and pulled him into a sitting position. It wasn't hard; he was strong and Chandler was really quite light. His roommate's head lolled. Joey gave a long sigh and pulled one of Chandler's arms around his shoulders. He hefted him up onto his feet.
"Is he okay?" asked the bartender, nodding toward Chandler.
"Yeah, he's fine. Just stupid." replied Joey. "Sorry about all that."
The bartender looked satisfied. "Get home safely." he said.
Joey half-carried Chandler to the door. A gorgeous blonde held it open for him, effectively distracting Joey. The actor looked her up and down and nodded, smirking seductively. "How you doin'?" he asked. The girl giggled.
"Mm… Joe." Chandler mumbled distantly.
It wasn't the time to think about bringing girls home. Joey thanked her for holding the door open, and headed outside.
It was a chilly evening. Joey let Chandler sag onto a nearby bench as he buttoned up his coat, and, on second thought, buttoned up Chandler's coat for him too. His roommate was probably too out of it to notice the temperature, but hey, Joey was a good guy. He didn't want his roommate to be cold.
"Joey… Joey?" Chandler was saying.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." responded Joey. He sat down on the bench beside his drunken roommate.
"I didn't win. I wanted to beat that guy up, but I didn't win."
"I know."
"I'm a mess." Chandler whispered. In the dusky darkness, underneath the musty streetlights, he looked sad. "I'm going to turn out just like my dad."
"What?" asked Joey. "Just 'cause you're gay? Doesn't work like that."
"Really?" Chandler turned his head slightly to look at Joey. "You think so?"
"Sure I do."
"I don't want to end up like him." Chandler said.
"You're not like him." Joey told him firmly. His roommate had been hurt badly by what his father had done. It had shaped him as a person, leaving him bitter on the outside and deeply insecure on the inside. Joey was one of the only people who had seen both sides of him, and a hundred more sides at that. Living with someone did that to you. "You're not like him at all. Now let's go home. I'm cold."
"I don't think I can walk, Joe."
"That's okay." Joey pulled Chandler back onto his feet and continued half-carrying him all the way back to their apartment.
Monica and Rachel's door was closed, and Joey couldn't see any light from the thin strip underneath the door. Joey headed straight into his and Chandler's place. As soon as they got inside, Joey dumped Chandler onto his bed. Not even ten seconds after Chandler's head had touched the pillow, the man started to snore softly. "Night, Chan." said Joey. He took a moment to laugh quietly at how much of a mess his friend would be in the morning, and then headed out to his own bedroom.
Joey fell asleep almost as quickly as Chandler had. The stars slipped soundlessly by outside while they slept.
xXx
Joey was up half an hour before Chandler was, which never happened. Joey was always the last to wake up in their apartment because Chandler was always up at seven-thirty sharp, except on weekends of course, or if he was sick. The actor was hungover, of course, but it was little more than a headache. Or maybe it was more, but whatever he felt paled in comparison when Chandler's door opened the next morning at ten o'clock.
"Dude, you look like hell." commented Joey, unable to keep himself from chuckling, as his roommate came out looking like a demon crawling out from the depths.
"You don't have to yell about it." whispered Chandler. He was pale, sweaty, and- Joey had been right- there was an impressive bruise under his left eye and over most of his cheekbone. "What… what even happened last night, Joe? I don't remember any of it. But look." He pointed at his bruised eye. "Look!" Immediately he winced and dropped his voice back down to a whisper.
"Last night was pretty crazy." Joey told him.
"I can tell. Just tell me what happened."
"Well, we went to a bar for some drinks." Joey began. "You, uh, you got really drunk. You started talkin' about foosball and stuff. Then you, uh…" His voice petered out as the events of the previous night came back to him.
"What? What did I do?"
"Well, you… you sort of came out to me."
"Oh, no." Chandler ran his hands over his face and through his thick, messy hair. "Are you serious? God, I am so stupid. Joey, I'm sorry. Wait," His blue eyes widened. "That doesn't explain the bruise. Don't say you hit me, Joey. Please. Don't say it."
"I didn't." Joey said. "I'm fine with it."
Chandler visibly relaxed. Joey was surprised by how anxious his roommate had looked. Of course, he shouldn't have been surprised at all. He was Chandler's best friend. The mere thought of Joey not wanting anything to do with him was enough to instill real fear in Chandler. "So… you're sure you're okay with it?" asked Chandler. His voice sounded weak. Joey wondered if it was because of how sick he must be feeling, or because of how relieved he was. Or both.
"Of course I am, Chan. You're my best friend, and you always will be, no matter what happens." Joey reassured him.
"Okay." Chandler sighed. "So, um, if you didn't hit me, where did the bruise come from?"
"Well, some homophobic jerk sitting by the bar overheard our conversation and started making fun of you." continued Joey. Chandler's brows knitted, but the actor went on. "You were really drunk, and you picked a fight. You said you could take him. But, uh, you couldn't."
"Right." muttered Chandler. He sat down in his recliner beside Joey, who was sitting in his. He sighed again. "What happened next?"
"Well, I, uh, I sort of punched him back." admitted Joey.
Chandler's eyes widened again. "Really?"
"Well, yeah! He hit you. I wasn't gonna let him get away with that." Joey responded defensively.
A smile spread across Chandler's face. "Hey, thanks, Joe."
"No problem." Joey clapped his friend on the shoulder. "So, does any of that sound familiar?"
"No."
"Well, you were pretty drunk, dude. You couldn't even really walk."
Chandler chuckled softly. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. I had to, like, carry you all the way home." Joey informed him.
His roommate laughed, and then winced, rubbing one of his temples absentmindedly. "Ouch. I feel like someone hit me in the head with a hammer."
"You should get some rest." Joey suggested. "We're both hungover, so we aren't gonna be having much fun today anyway."
"Okay." Chandler stood back up. "Thanks, Joe."
Joey waved as Chandler headed back into his bedroom, and shut the door. It had been nice to see Chandler smiling again. He had sounded so unsure of himself on that bench. Joey hated seeing him like that. His roommate was usually such a humourous person that hearing him sound so self-deprecating was strange. It wasn't the first time, though. Joey had lived with Chandler for years, and had been there through the low points in his roommate's life. Sometimes Joey wasn't exactly sure what was making Chandler upset; there were a lot of things he didn't understand, and not just about his roommate. Still, he tried his best to be of help. And even if he didn't always make things better, he could always bring Chandler's spirits up. That was what he did best. Other than acting, of course, and giving out the Joey love to women. He gave his roommate a whole different kind of Joey love; friendship. Chandler was like his brother. And though brothers fought sometimes, though they had their differences, they always had a bond stronger than anything else.
end