A/N 1: Based off the episode The One with Fake Monica

A/N 2: Hope this isn't to confusing, being that it's using the Real Monica and the Fake Monica. If it's confusing, let me know and I will see what I can do to fix it.


Monica, or "Monana," as she was known to Fake Monica, stood at the corner of the stage, legs shaking with fright. She turned to Fake Monica. "Uh…are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, really, I should just go back home." She turned around to leave, only to be caught by the collar of her shirt.

"Oh come on Monana, you can do this! Live a little." Fake Monica stood with her hands on her hips.

Monica looked at the stage as a beautiful red head walked up the stage, confidently walking up to the microphone. She stared as the red head started singing Memories. "Wow; she's good." She turned around, looking at Fake Monica. "You know, we should just let her sing—"

"Uh-uh. This is your shot." Fake Monica looked up at the stage, watching as the red head sang the last verse of the song. "Okay, here's your chance."

"No, really, I can't. I should go ho—"before she knew what was happening, Fake Monica had pushed her toward the stairs. "Monana" gulped. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any. Come on Monica, you can do it!"

"Next up for the role of Grizabella is…" the stage manager peered at his form. "Miss Tiffany Preston." The stage manager looked up, discovering a very weak kneed, black haired woman standing on the stage. He looked over his glasses at her. "Tiffany?"

Monica gulped. 'Y-yes?"

"Whenever you're ready."


Fake Monica stood near the corner of the stage, arms crossed in amusement. Monana was a lot of fun, but she didn't know how to live. "Well, this should get her out of her shell," she thought.

"Excuse me Miss."

Fake Monica turned, slowly looking up into the face of a beefy looking security guard. "Yes?"

"Tell me something: is that Miss. Tiffany Preston up there?"

"Um…yes, it is."

"Really?" He turned around, motioning behind him as a tall, lanky blonde walked up. "Then why is Tiffany here insisting that that woman onstage is not her?"

Fake Monica froze, thinking fast. "Um…gotta go! Bye!"


"Well, you see, it's just that I'm not really prepared. So…because I'm not prepared, I can't sing." Monica laughed, sobering up immediately as the stage manager glared at her over his glasses. "Right. You wouldn't know that because I'm Tiffany Preston, singer extraordinaire!"

"Miss Preston, if you wouldn't mind. I'd like to get this audition down sometime today."

"Right. Here goes. Um…" Monica straightened up, thinking of the words. She took a deep breath. "Memo—"

"Monana! We have to get out of here!" Monica looked toward the end of the stage, watching as a Fake Monica ran up to her. "Monana, they're—we—"

"SECURITY! STAY WHERE YOU ARE! DON'T MOVE!"

The stage manager rolled his eyes. "What now?"

The security guard ran up to him. "I'm sorry sir, but that girl over there? She's not really an actress!"

The stage manager put his head in his hands. "What do you take me for? An idiot? She doesn't exactly have a stage presence."

"Hey!" Monica walked to the front of the stage, indignant. "I have a perfect stage presence!" She stamped her foot. "Not like you would know."

"Security!"

"Bye!" Monica jumped off the stage, grabbing Fake Monica's hand and making a mad dash for the door, not daring to look back.


"Oh my gosh! I can't believe I actually did that! I mean, it was fun! I felt invincible! I lived!" Monica danced around the alley. "Can we do it again?"

Fake Monica raised an eyebrow, looking her new friend up and down. "I think you've had enough living today. Can't do it to much; we do it to much, we could end up in prison."

Monica stopped jumping. "P-prison?"

Fake Monica waved the comment away. "Relax, you're fine. Besides, they didn't catch us. We lost them when we turned into the alley. Wouldn't have been to hard though; that was one of the dumbest security guards I've ever seen." Fake Monica poked her head around the corner. "Okay, we're safe. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

Fake Monica raised an eyebrow. "Home.

"Oh. Right. Home. Where I live." Monica waved the statement away. "Psh. I knew that."

"You're an odd one Monana, I'll give you that much. Now, come on." Monica followed Fake Monica down the street, suddenly dancing around again. "What are you doing?"

"I did it, I did it. I out ran a security guard! I sang Memories!"

"Actually, you only sang 'Memo.'"

"Psh. Whatever." Monica grinned from ear to ear. Rachel was going to die when she heard this.