A/N: So I've always been a huge Friends fan, and an even bigger Mondler fan, but I've never taken the time out to write any fanfics about either...until now! As I rewatch the show, I find myself craving more pre-season 4 Mondler moments. This one takes place before season 1, before Chandler has a roommate.
(Also, I've edited and uploaded this from my iPhone, so advanced apologies for any errors.)
Chandler Bing had never been a fan of Saturday nights.
As a child, Saturdays always brought some new, confusing discovery about his parents' sex life; as a teen, he'd spent most Saturdays locked up in his bedroom reading or writing, all the while ignoring the pleasured cries from his mother and one of the house employees - usually the pool boy - from down the hall. And now, at 22, he found himself alone in his apartment, halfheartedly watching Die Hard on VHS.
He sighed to himself, realizing just how pathetic he would seem to an outsider. He stood from his seat and walked towards the kitchen, picking the phone up off the counter.
"C'mon, Ross, pick up," Chandler murmured, tapping his foot impatiently. The phone rang four times before he heard the voice of his best friend on the other end.
"Hi, you've reached Ross and Carol. We're not available at the-"
Chandler frowned, clicking the phone off.
The one time Ross decides to have a social life would be on the night I'm about to gouge my eyes out of sheer boredom, he thought miserably.
He reached for the remote and paused the long-forgotten movie on his screen, deciding to see if the girls across the hall wanted to go grab coffee or something.
As he quickly threw on a pair of pants, he heard the unmistakable sound of a door slamming. With his eyebrows knit together, he zipped himself up and stepped out into the hallway.
Chandler knocked on the door to apartment 20 cautiously, mildly afraid of what he was getting himself into. The door swung open abruptly and he was met with an infuriated-looking Monica.
"Uh...hi," he said slowly.
Monica's face instantly softened. She wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, and it was then that he realized she'd been crying.
"What's going on, Mon?" he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, but she turned and walked into the apartment before he could make the contact.
His hand dropped awkwardly to his side and he followed her inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. "Monica?"
She plopped herself down into one of the kitchen chairs and buried her face in her hands. He tilted his head and crouched down beside her, resting his hands on her knees.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
She sniffled and finally looked up at him with teary eyes. "I, uh, I had dinner with my parents tonight."
"Oh," he replied lamely, not sure what to say; his heart strings pulling when she looked away and shed a few more tears.
"It's just... I'm never good enough for them," Monica told him with a sigh. "You know what the first thing my mom said to me tonight was?"
Chandler shook his head and squeezed her knee sympathetically, urging her to continue.
"'Oh, Monica, look how gorgeous Carol looks tonight. If you were even half as attractive as her I'm sure you'd have a husband, or at least a boyfriend by now. You should work on that.'"
Chandler cringed. "Oh, Mon..."
"I spent an hour and a half getting ready for dinner tonight," she mumbled, another flurry of tears making its way down her cheeks.
Chandler, still unsure what to say, swept his eyes over her for the first time since he'd entered the apartment. The black dress she was wearing hugged every delicate curve of her body in just the right way, and made her snow white skin almost luminescent. He swallowed, the temperature in the room suddenly feeling 10 degrees warmer. She was so, so beautiful.
"And then, she proceeds to tell me that I look too thin! Too thin! Can you imagine?" Monica exclaimed, standing from her seat.
Since the first time he'd met the Gellers, it had been plainly obvious to him that Jack and Judy preferred Ross to Monica, and he was still baffled as to why that was.
Monica was ranting now, pacing as she went, and repeating all the horrible things her mother had said to her that evening.
Sometimes he could honestly say he hated Mrs. Geller for all the hurt and insecurity she had caused his friend. Monica was the last person who deserved to be feeling this way; she was a great person and an even better friend, and he often found himself feeling ashamed for not realizing that sooner.
"Monica," Chandler interrupted, walking over to her. "Monica, stop," he told her, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her around to face him.
"Hey, look at me," Chandler said softly, his head ducking down to find her gaze. "Your parents...your mom, is crazy for not seeing how wonderful and sweet and beautiful you are."
A blush crept slowly across Monica's face and she smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Chandler."
He smiled back and pulled her in for a hug, doing his best to ignore the feeling of her tiny body pressed up against his.
"Chandler?" Monica said after a moment, her voice muffled by his chest.
"Hm?"
"You're a really great friend," she took in a nervous breath before continuing. "You're my best friend."
He grinned broadly - his heart swelling at her words - and hugged her tighter, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head. "So I've heard."