Do I look like I own Friends? I do? Well, that must be because I'm fabulous. But I don't.

I had to take my previous songfic down, apparently doesn't allow that. :(

But a few of you asked for a multi-chapter story from me, and I just finished finals, so I will oblige and write this. Prepare for a new chapter every week. If I don't deliver, sorry, but I have a lot going on this summer.

It is Saturday night, and I am on my way to do my laundry. Not out on a date, but doing laundry. I'm not entirely sure when my life became this boring. But surely I couldn't have always been like this.

I haven't really had a boyfriend in about six months, just a few dates. When Joshua and I broke up, I realized I wanted to be on my own for a while, you know, being independent.

Monica stands before me, clad in a black flowing dress and stiletto-heeled boots. She is going out for a double date with Chandler, her longtime boyfriend and our across-the-hall neighbor, and Joey and Phoebe. Monica is my roommate and my best friend. When I left my ex-fiance at the altar about two years ago and was a spoiled brat, she was here for me and gave me a place to live and three new friends, Joey, Phoebe, and Chandler.

Phoebe and Joey are going out as well, but they are much less serious. Joey finally got up the courage to tell Phoebe about his feelings for her about three months ago, and they have been going out ever since.

Monica is a great person, she's a chef. She is totally obsessive-compulsive. One time, I spilled spaghetti sauce on the couch cushion, and I still have nightmares about what she would do to me if she found out. She was my best friend growing up. She also used to be really fat, too, but then she lost a ton of weight and looks gorgeous now.

Chandler is a statistical-no, that can't be right- transponding- I don't think that's it either- well, I just know it has something to do with numbers. He hates it. His parents divorced when he was a little kid, leaving him with severe emotional issues. He frequently uses sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism.

Joey is Chandler's roommate, he's an actor, and he often comes across the hall and steals the food from our refrigerator. Joey and Chandler are best friends, and Joey is obsessed with Baywatch. He used to play Doctor Drake Ramoray on Days of Our Lives (I am a big soap opera fan).

Phoebe, well, is... Phoebe. There's really no word to describe her. She is a massage therapist, and she also plays the guitar, sings, and writes songs that she sings in the downstairs coffee shop, Central Perk. Her mom committed suicide when she was fourteen, and she lived on the streets for a few years. Phoebe also has an evil twin named Ursula. Even though her life was hard, Phoebe is the most optimistic person I know, and she can always bring a smile to your face. She is a wonderfully weird person, although sometimes I wonder if she makes special brownies, if you know what I mean.

Phoebe breezes through the door to our purple apartment and hums her newest song, "Little Black Curly Hair". Suddenly, I'm glad I'm not going tonight.

Monica suddenly remembered something. "Oh, you guys? My brother is going to be moving in right across the street, and he's coming tomorrow. We're going to go help him unpack and bring him food. Kay? Good."

"Wait, is this Ross? Used-to-have-a-crush-on-me-in-high-school-Ross?"

"The one and only."

"Is he cute?" Phoebe asks Monica.

"Phoebe!" I exclaim. "You have a boyfriend!"

"Umm, I was talking about for you, I mean, he used to have a crush on you, maybe it would come back!"

"Oh." I walk to get my laundry from my room.

Before I leave, I hear Phoebe saying aside to Monica, "Do you have a picture of him?"

I suppose I should tell you about myself. My name is Rachel Green. I live in the West Village with my best friend Monica Geller. Chandler Bing and Joey Tribbiani live across the hall. Chandler and Monica are together, and Joey and my other best friend, Phoebe, are also a couple.

About four years ago, I ran out on my wedding because I didn't love him and I didn't want to live that lifestyle, I wanted to be independent. I found Monica and she offered me a place to live, and she took me under her wing. I found four new friends, the best friends I could ever have.

As I walk down the street to the laundromat, I accidentally bump into a man. He couldn't be much older than me, only about twenty-eight or twenty-nine.

"Hi-hi," I stammer as I look into his gigantic chocolate-brown eyes. They are the sweetest eyes I have ever seen, and they remind me of being wrapped in a giant fur blanket.

"Hi, sorry," he says gingerly. He is tall, with dark brown hair and tan skin. He has a bag full of laundry slung over his shoulder, he must be going the same place as I am.

"You doing laundry tonight too?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I have some people to make a good impression on tomorrow, so I need clean clothes." He chuckles. "Wanna walk with me?" He holds out his arm, like a true gentleman. I take it and we begin walking.

"Might I ask who?" I feel like I'm being a little bit nosy, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"My little sister's friends. I just moved here, and I'm living right across the street from her, so she's going to introduce me to them."

I realize that this man must be Ross. "Wait, let me guess, you're Ross Geller, and your little sister is Monica."

"Whoa. Are you, like, psychic or something?" He sounds incredulous.

"No, that's more Phoebe's department. I'm Rachel, Rachel Green. You just got a head start on meeting Monica's friends. I'm her roommate."

"No way. Rachel Green? Oh my god, I can't believe I didn't recognize you! You were the prom queen, the homecoming queen, the cheerleading captain..."

"Well, you probably didn't recognize me because of the nose."

"Oh, your nose is different. Didn't you have a nose job because of your deviated septum or something?"

"Yeah, but I'm glad it got fixed, I mean, it was the size of Connecticut or something." Am I really that stupid? Did I just humiliate myself by talking about my old nose in front of the cutest guy I have ever seen?

Wait. No. I don't have a crush on him. I don't, I don't, I don't. Maybe a little one.

"So, is Monica as bad as she was growing up? Is she still OCD?"

"You bet. She still has those rules."

"Feet on the floor, or come over no more!" We both say in unison, then laugh.

We are so in sync! We are perfect for each- no, I don't like Ross. No. No. Come on, Rachel, I don't like Ross, I don't like Ross, I do not have a big huge crush on my best friend's brother.

"After we finish our laundry, would you like to come out to dinner with me?" He asks me.

"That sounds wonderful!"

Maybe I do.