A/N I thought of this one at about 3am, so sorry if it's kind of crap! :) This is set just before the events of 5x06 (The One With The Yeti).


"Let's see, uh... Joey Tribbiani?" the intercom buzzed.

He didn't like to admit it, but Joey still got nervous before an audition. Why should he? He was Dr Drake Ramoray on Days of Our Lives, for crying out loud! He took a shaky breath before getting out of the squashed armchair in the corner of the grey waiting room. "This is going to be the one," he said under his breath.

"Miss Tribbiani?"

Hold up, Miss? Joey looked at the intercom with a hint of hesitancy, when his attention was brought to a pigeon on the windowsill outside. It hopped around aimlessly, seemingly devoid of any purpose, when it suddenly took flight toward the Empire State Building - causing Joey to come to his senses.

Scrambling for the heavy black door that lead to the audition room, he had just enough time to collect his thoughts before pulling the door open. The three occupants inside didn't seem to notice his entrance, their collective attention given to the disorderly piles of resumes and headshots - none of whom resembled Joey in the slightest.

"Okay, Miss Tribbiani. Please begin your opening monologue," the balding man in the middle drawled, without as much as a glance in Joey's direction.

His black eyebrows furrowed. Why was he being referred to as Miss? He was clearly a dude!
"Uh... Shouldn't you be calling m-"

No sooner than Joey started speaking, all three casting directors looked up in bewilderment. He paid them no mind, and opened his mouth to begin his monologue, before he was interrupted by the short, squat woman on the man's right.

"Mr Tribbiani, you are aware that you are not a woman, correct?" Her voice was vibrant with hints of a Jersey accent, which was exaggerated by the fact she was so surprised by Joey's presence.

"Yeah, why am I being called Miss? I am a dude! I can prove it if you want," he firmly says, reaching for his belt buckle.

"Oh, no no, I think we're good," the black woman on the left insisted. Her ebony curls seemed to disjoint themselves as she shook her head.

The middle man cleared his throat. "Mr Tribbiani, you are aware this audition has been set for an African-American woman in her mid-forties?"

Joey had been catching flies the whole time. He closed his mouth in embarrassment, slightly going red. Estelle had surely mentioned this audition had been for an Italian man - he was perfect for it! His eyes were drawn down to the pen scrawl on his left hand - "Play audition, 10:30", but the address had become slightly smudged, and in his haste he had quite obviously misread it.

"Uh... This is Eastman theatre, right?" he asked, rather stupidly.

They all gave him deadpan looks. The Eastman theatre was five hours upstate in Rochester.

"Mr Tribbiani, this is The Flea Theatre."

"Damn it!" Joey opened the door in exasperation and stalked out. He pressed the elevator button to go down while pulling out his phone from his backpack. He dialled Estelle, but he got her answering machine.

"Hey Estelle... I kinda went to the wrong audition, so let's just say I'm not going to be in that play."

His seat on the subway was uncomfortable as ever.

Finally reaching his ultimate stop, he walked up the stairs to the street, almost colliding with some performers. They were acting out a scene from Othello.

"Stupid people doing their thing and getting paid for it..." he muttered.

He walked into the coffeehouse, deciding to grab a cookie to eat on the way up to his apartment. Greeting Gunther in his usual manner, Joey thought about what he would do for the rest of the day. It was only 12pm, and he was meant to be at that audition for another hour - he didn't seem to realise how far away Rochester actually was.

None of his friends were around - which was surprising; even though they all had jobs, even Phoebe would be here. He decided he would squeeze in some Baywatch time before Chandler came home, even if it was just to get condoms - his friend was still on London time.

Joey had found out a couple of weeks before that Chandler had been secretly seeing Monica since the group's trip to London. Thinking the beach incident had put that sort of thing out of their minds forever, the moment when Joey had put two and two together completely blindsided him.

Walking up the stairs to Apartment 19, he wolfed down his cookie with one hand while getting his keys out with the other. Opening the door, the sight of a slightly disheveled Monica straddling Chandler on his Barcalounger as they made out was most unwelcome.

"Hey, none of that. Not while you're living under my roof."