A/N: Hey everyone! Here is my latest Mondler story. It's really only my
second attempt at them, so let me know how it is, okay? I feel like I've
written this a million other places, but LAFS finale is coming soon. Don't
worry. ( Anyways, please read and review this. Some of the events that
happen in this chapter may seem a bit drastic, but please just bear with
me. I had to get her in this position somehow! Oh and also, Monica, Rachel
and Ross know each other. Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe know each other. M/R/R
live in New York. C/J/P live in L.A. And Monica is a journalist for Belle
magazine. Imagine it to be like Elle or Cosmo or something, okay? It will
all make sense soon enough. (
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Yeah, life sucks.
"I hate reality TV. How can something that has the word 'real' in it seem so fake? Everywhere I go, reality TV seems to have encompassed our society, as we know it.
For some reason, people are enchanted by the idea of several people living in the same house at the same time. Several people that are very different and fight constantly over meaningless topics. As days go by, these people try harder and harder to make it through the day without killing each other. Heck, if this reality TV idea had caught on like a decade ago, my whole family would have been rich and famous by now.
And why are people so fascinated by the idea of two random strangers marrying each other? Haven't they ever heard of arranged marriages? They weren't all that common one hundred years ago, and believe it or not, people still go through with them today.
But then again, people that watch these so called 'real' shows don't have much of a grasp on activities that take place outside of the little black box sitting in their living rooms.
I swear, if I see one more magazine proclaiming the trials, tribulations, and break-ups of these blink-and-you'll-miss-em stars, I'm going to scream!
Whatever happened to good old fashioned TV, people? Or actual stars, not some blond bimbo with a lack of brain cells, gracing the cover of magazines?
My friends, let me tell you what has happened to our society. Amidst all other TV shows and, gasp, actual real life, people have discovered that they can live their lives through the TV. After all, it is 'real' programming, isn't it?
Wrong. These forged relationships are enough to fool mentally challenged airheads, and maybe the occasional housewife. Yet these shows lack one thing that real life and actual experiences promise. Reality.
These people are not in love, let me tell you. I just don't understand how they let these shows happen to them. They seem normal enough, that is, until some random producer notices them and they are suddenly the star of a new dating show.
Who would actually agree to, willingly, be on one of these terrible shows? Barbie doll bimbos without any brain cells? The out of work yet adorable waiter? How about the adrenaline seeker, looking for his thirty seconds of fame?
Yes, yes, and oh, let me think, yes! Yet this phenomenon of every day people becoming famous has got to end sometime. I, for one, am praying the end is near. And I'm sure that I'm not the only one. So, until next time, I'm Monica Geller. Opinionated, loud, and very proud. Ciao!"
Monica pushed an escaped strand of black hair out of her face. She wiped her brow, propped her legs up on her desk, and let out a sigh of satisfaction.
Life was good. Having her own column in Belle, the women's fashion magazine empire, where she was just now being allowed to write about whatever she wanted, was very good.
She smiled as she reviewed this month's opinion column on reality TV. It was the first time she had written about something she wanted to. Before, her topics were always assigned. But there comes a point, when every woman has heard enough about what shoes to wear in the winter versus the summer. And Monica was glad for the change, even though her boss didn't know yet. Yet she reassured herself that he would love it. After all, who wouldn't?
Monica got up, turned on the TV, and made her way over to the couch. As she glanced at the screen, she couldn't help but groan. Another ridiculous reality TV show.
The camera focused on a single man surrounded by at least ten girls, all of whom were practically on top of him. He was grinning from ear to ear, clearly thrilled about his position. Monica watched in disgust as the man made out with one girl, felt up the next, and received a foot rub from two others.
She began frantically searching for the remote, wanting this horrific sight to but put to an end. Her hands roamed the couch as the hands on TV roamed elsewhere. The remote was missing, and there was no way for it to be over.
Monica glared at the television with her strikingly blue eyes. "All right, you win! Are you happy?" She turned off the TV angrily. "I just won't watch TV tonight!"
The sound of keys was present in the doorway, just as a young blond woman came bursting in frantically. It was Rachel Green, Monica's best friend and roommate.
Monica looked up, disturbed by the interruption. "Rach, what is it?"
Rachel tossed her coat on the floor, and was now sliding across the room towards the couch. She looked at the coffee table noticing the absence of its key item. "Where is the remote?!" she shouted.
Monica looked somewhat amused at her usually mellow roommate's behavior. Something really good must be on for her to react like that. "I don't know. I."
Running towards the television, Rachel turned on the TV manually. "Yes!" she cried out triumphantly, and hopped on the couch.
Monica sat down next to her. "Rach, is this you're watching?"
"Shh! I'm so sure that Trisha is going to pick Bryan. Tonight is the finale!" Rachel concluded, on the edge of the couch with excitement.
Monica rolled her eyes. This was even a different show! Instead of all the girls, there were several guys and one girl. And now her best friend was a victim of the reality TV craze. The next thing she knew, they'd both be waiting up until the wee hours of the morning to catch ElimiDate re-runs.
"Rach, don't tell me you actually like reality TV? I jus wrote in the column about the evils of it."
Rachel turned to Monica. "Evils? Do you call that evil?" she asked, gesturing towards the TV where Trisha and Bryan were kissing romantically. "There is nothing evil about love."
Monica laughed somewhat bitterly. "Love? That's not love." Rachel's mouth dropped open. "Oh sure, it's all one great big fairytale now, but you wait. A month from now, we'll all find out that he cheated on her or something."
A perturbed look crossed Rachel's face. "Bryan cheated on Trisha? That bastard!
"I'm just making a prediction, Rach."
Rachel looked relieved. "Okay, cause something didn't add up. Look at them, they're so sweet!"
Monica's upper lip curled in disgust as a cheesy host announced that Trisha and Bryan were now engaged. "Excuse me while I go hurl."
"Geez, Mon, you're so cynical. Can't you ever stop for one moment to consider the fact that they might actually be in love?"
On the TV, Trisha and Bryan were presented with a check for a million dollars. Their eyes, which once had gazed only at each other, were now fixated upon their new love. The money.
"Yeah, well if someone gave me a million bucks, I'd act like I was in love, too."
Rachel got a smile of interest on her face. "Really."
Monica rolled her eyes. "Yeah Rach, we just can't stop those phone calls asking for me to be on TV, can we?"
"Well, you just never know."
As Monica walked to work the next month, she couldn't help but glance over at the magazine rack. The cover of all the popular magazines read: Trisha and Bryan-Married!
Continuing her walk down the crowded city streets, she muttered to herself. "Yeah, and next month's headline will say Trisha and Bryan-Divorced!" Monica chuckled at her cleverness. "See, this is nice. I don't need a man. Men get in the way. A woman on her own fares much better than a woman in love."
To Monica, love was an emotion that wasn't experienced often. Sure, she loved her family, Rachel, and even her brother Ross, who was also Rachel's boyfriend.
But had this love ever been shared with a man? No. This is because over time, Monica convinced herself true love was impossible to find. Plenty of opportunities were at hand, yet none were being grasped.
Later that day, Cameron, her boss, entered her office. Monica quickly tossed her box of chocolate and romance novel into a drawer, and pretended to be hard at work. She pushed her reading glasses up slightly, and smiled at her boss.
"Hey Cam! I didn't see you come in."
Her remark was greeted by silence from her surly boss. A second man followed him into the room. With a bald pink head, short, stout, body, and a squeaky voice, he greatly resembled a pig.
Cam looked at Monica. "Ms. Geller, after the public read last month's column, we have received an amazing amount of feedback."
Monica looked pleased. "Really?"
"Yes, apparently our readers make up 87 percent of the reality TV fan base."
"Oops."
"Oops is right. We have never received so many complaints on this column."
Monica gulped. "It's an opinion's column, though."
Cameron dismissed her by waving his hand. "Yes, but no one wants to hear your opinion if it doesn't agree with the general public's."
"But.but."
He gestured to the pig-like man standing awkwardly in the center of the room. "I have here with me the producer of show like Average Millionaire and Money is love. His name is James Crawford."
Monica shook pig-man's hand. "Pleased to meet you."
James nodded. "Likewise."
Yet Cameron's voice boomed above them all. "Together, we have thought up an idea. Belle has never received lower ratings than it did last month. This was due to you. I cannot simply overlook this. On our team, we strive for perfection. That is all we will take. So, naturally, this cannot go without consequences. I didn't want to fire you, and knew of an upcoming show Mr. Crawford will be producing. It sounds quite promising, and calls for a female lead. We were hoping you would fill the part."
Monica laughed. "You have got to be kidding me!"
James shook his head. "No, I am producing this show, and we need our female character soon. In it, the woman has to pick between five men the man she wants to marry."
A bitter snicker let loose from Monica's mouth as Cameron and James stared her down. "I'm sorry, but how is that different than any other ridiculous show out there now?"
James cleared his throat, "Let me explain. You see, the men each have a secret, and we are going to tell them the girl, you, is a millionaire. Up until the wedding, they must be able to fool all of their friends and family that they are actually in love with each other. If there is even a shard of doubt that those two aren't in love, then wa-bam! No money! We're going to call it 'Forging Love'."
"Absolutely not!"
Cam frowned. "Then I have no choice but to fire you."
Monica's jaw hung open. "You mean you want me to pretend to be a millionaire and choose between the man I want to marry? Or else I get fired?!"
"W-well, you get to choose out of five. And-ah, you could win a million dollars," James stammered.
"And if you prove to me that you are able to think outside your one sided views, then I will allow you more freedom with the column. Freedom to write whatever you desire," Cameron added.
Monica's head tilted, deep in thought. So six weeks of her life might be spent 'Forging Love', yet after she did it right she could end up rich, and more importantly, free to write as she pleased.
If this was what it took to win the most important aspect of her life, her job, back, then she'd do it. And she would also prove once and for all that reality TV shows were dumb, and finding true love on one was like being on a wild goose chase.
'I'm gonna have to brush up on my acting skills,' she thought. 'There is gonna be a lot of forging going on.'
She looked Cameron and James in the eye. They were going to be so sorry they ever asked her to do this. She was going to show them once and for all that she was right. Monica Geller was always right.
With a mischievous grin playing upon her lips, she told them what they wanted to hear. "I'll do it."
TBC.
So there's chapter one. I realize that, you know, someone with her hate of reality TV shows might not be that willing to be in that position, but I had to make her be in one somehow. Trust me, it gets better. So, until chapter two, I hope all of you have a great new year! See you all in 2004! ( Mel
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Yeah, life sucks.
"I hate reality TV. How can something that has the word 'real' in it seem so fake? Everywhere I go, reality TV seems to have encompassed our society, as we know it.
For some reason, people are enchanted by the idea of several people living in the same house at the same time. Several people that are very different and fight constantly over meaningless topics. As days go by, these people try harder and harder to make it through the day without killing each other. Heck, if this reality TV idea had caught on like a decade ago, my whole family would have been rich and famous by now.
And why are people so fascinated by the idea of two random strangers marrying each other? Haven't they ever heard of arranged marriages? They weren't all that common one hundred years ago, and believe it or not, people still go through with them today.
But then again, people that watch these so called 'real' shows don't have much of a grasp on activities that take place outside of the little black box sitting in their living rooms.
I swear, if I see one more magazine proclaiming the trials, tribulations, and break-ups of these blink-and-you'll-miss-em stars, I'm going to scream!
Whatever happened to good old fashioned TV, people? Or actual stars, not some blond bimbo with a lack of brain cells, gracing the cover of magazines?
My friends, let me tell you what has happened to our society. Amidst all other TV shows and, gasp, actual real life, people have discovered that they can live their lives through the TV. After all, it is 'real' programming, isn't it?
Wrong. These forged relationships are enough to fool mentally challenged airheads, and maybe the occasional housewife. Yet these shows lack one thing that real life and actual experiences promise. Reality.
These people are not in love, let me tell you. I just don't understand how they let these shows happen to them. They seem normal enough, that is, until some random producer notices them and they are suddenly the star of a new dating show.
Who would actually agree to, willingly, be on one of these terrible shows? Barbie doll bimbos without any brain cells? The out of work yet adorable waiter? How about the adrenaline seeker, looking for his thirty seconds of fame?
Yes, yes, and oh, let me think, yes! Yet this phenomenon of every day people becoming famous has got to end sometime. I, for one, am praying the end is near. And I'm sure that I'm not the only one. So, until next time, I'm Monica Geller. Opinionated, loud, and very proud. Ciao!"
Monica pushed an escaped strand of black hair out of her face. She wiped her brow, propped her legs up on her desk, and let out a sigh of satisfaction.
Life was good. Having her own column in Belle, the women's fashion magazine empire, where she was just now being allowed to write about whatever she wanted, was very good.
She smiled as she reviewed this month's opinion column on reality TV. It was the first time she had written about something she wanted to. Before, her topics were always assigned. But there comes a point, when every woman has heard enough about what shoes to wear in the winter versus the summer. And Monica was glad for the change, even though her boss didn't know yet. Yet she reassured herself that he would love it. After all, who wouldn't?
Monica got up, turned on the TV, and made her way over to the couch. As she glanced at the screen, she couldn't help but groan. Another ridiculous reality TV show.
The camera focused on a single man surrounded by at least ten girls, all of whom were practically on top of him. He was grinning from ear to ear, clearly thrilled about his position. Monica watched in disgust as the man made out with one girl, felt up the next, and received a foot rub from two others.
She began frantically searching for the remote, wanting this horrific sight to but put to an end. Her hands roamed the couch as the hands on TV roamed elsewhere. The remote was missing, and there was no way for it to be over.
Monica glared at the television with her strikingly blue eyes. "All right, you win! Are you happy?" She turned off the TV angrily. "I just won't watch TV tonight!"
The sound of keys was present in the doorway, just as a young blond woman came bursting in frantically. It was Rachel Green, Monica's best friend and roommate.
Monica looked up, disturbed by the interruption. "Rach, what is it?"
Rachel tossed her coat on the floor, and was now sliding across the room towards the couch. She looked at the coffee table noticing the absence of its key item. "Where is the remote?!" she shouted.
Monica looked somewhat amused at her usually mellow roommate's behavior. Something really good must be on for her to react like that. "I don't know. I."
Running towards the television, Rachel turned on the TV manually. "Yes!" she cried out triumphantly, and hopped on the couch.
Monica sat down next to her. "Rach, is this you're watching?"
"Shh! I'm so sure that Trisha is going to pick Bryan. Tonight is the finale!" Rachel concluded, on the edge of the couch with excitement.
Monica rolled her eyes. This was even a different show! Instead of all the girls, there were several guys and one girl. And now her best friend was a victim of the reality TV craze. The next thing she knew, they'd both be waiting up until the wee hours of the morning to catch ElimiDate re-runs.
"Rach, don't tell me you actually like reality TV? I jus wrote in the column about the evils of it."
Rachel turned to Monica. "Evils? Do you call that evil?" she asked, gesturing towards the TV where Trisha and Bryan were kissing romantically. "There is nothing evil about love."
Monica laughed somewhat bitterly. "Love? That's not love." Rachel's mouth dropped open. "Oh sure, it's all one great big fairytale now, but you wait. A month from now, we'll all find out that he cheated on her or something."
A perturbed look crossed Rachel's face. "Bryan cheated on Trisha? That bastard!
"I'm just making a prediction, Rach."
Rachel looked relieved. "Okay, cause something didn't add up. Look at them, they're so sweet!"
Monica's upper lip curled in disgust as a cheesy host announced that Trisha and Bryan were now engaged. "Excuse me while I go hurl."
"Geez, Mon, you're so cynical. Can't you ever stop for one moment to consider the fact that they might actually be in love?"
On the TV, Trisha and Bryan were presented with a check for a million dollars. Their eyes, which once had gazed only at each other, were now fixated upon their new love. The money.
"Yeah, well if someone gave me a million bucks, I'd act like I was in love, too."
Rachel got a smile of interest on her face. "Really."
Monica rolled her eyes. "Yeah Rach, we just can't stop those phone calls asking for me to be on TV, can we?"
"Well, you just never know."
As Monica walked to work the next month, she couldn't help but glance over at the magazine rack. The cover of all the popular magazines read: Trisha and Bryan-Married!
Continuing her walk down the crowded city streets, she muttered to herself. "Yeah, and next month's headline will say Trisha and Bryan-Divorced!" Monica chuckled at her cleverness. "See, this is nice. I don't need a man. Men get in the way. A woman on her own fares much better than a woman in love."
To Monica, love was an emotion that wasn't experienced often. Sure, she loved her family, Rachel, and even her brother Ross, who was also Rachel's boyfriend.
But had this love ever been shared with a man? No. This is because over time, Monica convinced herself true love was impossible to find. Plenty of opportunities were at hand, yet none were being grasped.
Later that day, Cameron, her boss, entered her office. Monica quickly tossed her box of chocolate and romance novel into a drawer, and pretended to be hard at work. She pushed her reading glasses up slightly, and smiled at her boss.
"Hey Cam! I didn't see you come in."
Her remark was greeted by silence from her surly boss. A second man followed him into the room. With a bald pink head, short, stout, body, and a squeaky voice, he greatly resembled a pig.
Cam looked at Monica. "Ms. Geller, after the public read last month's column, we have received an amazing amount of feedback."
Monica looked pleased. "Really?"
"Yes, apparently our readers make up 87 percent of the reality TV fan base."
"Oops."
"Oops is right. We have never received so many complaints on this column."
Monica gulped. "It's an opinion's column, though."
Cameron dismissed her by waving his hand. "Yes, but no one wants to hear your opinion if it doesn't agree with the general public's."
"But.but."
He gestured to the pig-like man standing awkwardly in the center of the room. "I have here with me the producer of show like Average Millionaire and Money is love. His name is James Crawford."
Monica shook pig-man's hand. "Pleased to meet you."
James nodded. "Likewise."
Yet Cameron's voice boomed above them all. "Together, we have thought up an idea. Belle has never received lower ratings than it did last month. This was due to you. I cannot simply overlook this. On our team, we strive for perfection. That is all we will take. So, naturally, this cannot go without consequences. I didn't want to fire you, and knew of an upcoming show Mr. Crawford will be producing. It sounds quite promising, and calls for a female lead. We were hoping you would fill the part."
Monica laughed. "You have got to be kidding me!"
James shook his head. "No, I am producing this show, and we need our female character soon. In it, the woman has to pick between five men the man she wants to marry."
A bitter snicker let loose from Monica's mouth as Cameron and James stared her down. "I'm sorry, but how is that different than any other ridiculous show out there now?"
James cleared his throat, "Let me explain. You see, the men each have a secret, and we are going to tell them the girl, you, is a millionaire. Up until the wedding, they must be able to fool all of their friends and family that they are actually in love with each other. If there is even a shard of doubt that those two aren't in love, then wa-bam! No money! We're going to call it 'Forging Love'."
"Absolutely not!"
Cam frowned. "Then I have no choice but to fire you."
Monica's jaw hung open. "You mean you want me to pretend to be a millionaire and choose between the man I want to marry? Or else I get fired?!"
"W-well, you get to choose out of five. And-ah, you could win a million dollars," James stammered.
"And if you prove to me that you are able to think outside your one sided views, then I will allow you more freedom with the column. Freedom to write whatever you desire," Cameron added.
Monica's head tilted, deep in thought. So six weeks of her life might be spent 'Forging Love', yet after she did it right she could end up rich, and more importantly, free to write as she pleased.
If this was what it took to win the most important aspect of her life, her job, back, then she'd do it. And she would also prove once and for all that reality TV shows were dumb, and finding true love on one was like being on a wild goose chase.
'I'm gonna have to brush up on my acting skills,' she thought. 'There is gonna be a lot of forging going on.'
She looked Cameron and James in the eye. They were going to be so sorry they ever asked her to do this. She was going to show them once and for all that she was right. Monica Geller was always right.
With a mischievous grin playing upon her lips, she told them what they wanted to hear. "I'll do it."
TBC.
So there's chapter one. I realize that, you know, someone with her hate of reality TV shows might not be that willing to be in that position, but I had to make her be in one somehow. Trust me, it gets better. So, until chapter two, I hope all of you have a great new year! See you all in 2004! ( Mel