The One With The Digital Fairytale
Chapter Four
By: Jana~
*****~*****
--"Hey, Mon," Phoebe greeted cheerfully as she entered Monica's apartment with Rachel in toe. "Wanna come with me and Rache to Candles-R-Us?"
"And then Pottery Barn after that?" Rachel added, to which Phoebe groaned.
"You said we could go to Pottery Barn after Candle-World," Rachel reminded Phoebe, "And I know you don't much care for the place, but, well, I do!"
"It's just so commercial and--"
"Guys," Monica interrupted the little spat between friends, "I don't really feel much like shopping."
Rachel gasped, as if the very idea of not being in the mood to shop was inconceivable. "Why not?" she asked as she and Phoebe approached the couch.
"And why is your aura so murky?" Phoebe added.
Monica threw Phoebe an odd look as Rachel asked, "Is this because of the bad date last night?"
She sighed, "Not exactly." Monica put her face in her hands for a moment, then looked up again at her friends. "Chandler came by today."
"Who?" Phoebe asked.
"The assistant," Rachel directed at Phoebe, then gestured for Monica to continue.
"He came by," Monica repeated, "To give me those roses," she pointed at the large vase on the desk to her left, "From Peter."
"So," Rachel ventured a guess, "You're upset cause Peter gave you roses?"
Monica shrugged, "Not exactly."
"You're upset because Chandler came here on business for Peter instead of coming here to see you?" Rachel guessed further.
Monica winced. That was, in part, why she was upset, but to hear the words coming from Rachel in the form of a question… it just sounded ridiculous.
She barely knew the man, and yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him. And then, while he was just trying to do his job, she snapped at him and insulted him like he was a cheating boyfriend or something.
"Y- yeah," she stammered. "Kinda," she admitted. "But, that's not all of it."
"Then, what's the rest of it?" Phoebe asked.
"I-- I kissed him."
"What?!" Rachel asked, shocked. "You kissed him?!"
Monica nodded. "I just walked right up to him and kissed him!"
"Well, then, what did he do?!" Rachel asked.
"Well, at first," Monica sighed, "He kissed back. But then," she added, the sentence trailing off.
"But then?!?" Rachel demanded to know, fully interested in what her friend was about to say next.
"He pulled away," Monica groaned, "And said that we could never happen."
"What?" Phoebe asked. "Why not?"
"Is he seeing someone else?" Rachel added.
"No," Monica replied. "Apparently, he doesn't feel he can date me cause Peter likes me."
"So?" Rachel scoffed. "You're not interested in Peter!"
"I told him that!" Monica exclaimed, "But he said to Peter, that wouldn't matter." She sighed, "Whatever that means."
"That just doesn't make any sense," Phoebe mused. "He knows how you feel about him?" Monica nodded. "He knows that you don't like Peter and that you do like him?"
Again, Monica nodded, "Yeah. He knows."
Phoebe shook her head, "There's something bigger going on here."
"I think so too," Monica agreed. "I just… don't know what."
*****
--Chandler entered his boss' office immediately following the obligatory knock, feeling the need to do so even though Peter was already advised that he was there when Alice buzzed him on the intercom.
"Chandler, yes," Peter greeted his assistant, gesturing for him to enter. "Did you arrange for the roses?"
"Yes, sir."
"Take the dog for a walk? Pick up my suits?"
Chandler cringed at how it was all lumped together. Like romancing Monica was nothing more than an errand. An errand to be passed off to someone else, no less. Like picking up clothes from the dry cleaners and walking the horse-sized Great Dane.
"Yes, sir," he replied with a respectful tone, even though he was feeling little respect for his boss at that moment.
He waited for Peter to address him again, the facts of the day gnawing at his mind. The fact that he delivered the roses himself, instead of sending a flower delivery person, just so he would have a reason to see her again.
Monica. The raven-haired beauty with bright blue eyes and adorable freckles that peppered her viewable skin. Monica, with her fiery spirit and soft, perfect, kissable lips.
And then she kissed him, and it was a dream come true, and a nightmare, all rolled up into one brief incredible moment. Clear as crystal, she made it known that she wasn't interested in Peter, but that she was interested in him. The poor lowly assistant to the richest man in the country, probably the world.
How was that even possible, he wondered? How could she be interested in dating him, when she could be dating The Peter Becker? He didn't stick around to ask. He left as quickly as he could, seeing the situation for the potentially volatile predicament that it was.
Peter Becker didn't like to lose, and Chandler knew if word got back to him about the kiss he shared with Monica, that his boss would view it as a failure. A failure Chandler would be seen as directly responsible for. He would be thought of as disloyal. Peter didn't respond well to disloyalty.
As his boss rapidly spat out orders, Chandler jotted his duties down in shorthand as quickly as he could, noting to himself that he would, once again, be working on Sunday. He thought of how Monica would most certainly ridicule him for that as well.
"And don't forget I need you here at six A.M. on Monday, for that early meeting," Peter reminded.
"Yes, sir," Chandler replied in typical fashion as he made the quick note in his planner.
"That'll be all." Mr. Becker dismissed his employee, turning his attention to his computer screen.
Chandler nodded and left, heading for his office with his new list of assignments.
"Maybe it's a good that I have so much work," he muttered to himself as the sound of his loafer shoes hitting the cold hard floor echoed throughout the long empty hallway. "At least this way, I'll have less time to think about Monica."
*****
--Monica entered Central Perk, for once happy to see that none of her friends or her brother was there. She loved them all dearly, and loved their company, but she just wanted time alone to think.
She ordered her usual, then sat down on the focal point of the popular coffeehouse; an old, ugly, tattered, orange couch. Slowly sipping her hot latte, she let her mind wander over her situation.
Peter wanted her, she wanted Chandler, Chandler didn't seem to know what he wanted, and that left everything up in the air. Unresolved.
Monica hated having stuff unresolved. Even when the answer was 'no', or other such answer she didn't want to hear, to her, even that was better than no answer at all.
"Hey, Monica," Gunther asked, "You want a muffin or something to go with your latte?"
"Oh, no thanks, Gunther," she replied with a polite smile, but just as he started to walk away, her smile dropped, an idea hitting her. "Hey, Gunther?"
He stopped and turned around, "Yeah?"
"You know Chandler Bing, right?"
His brow wrinkled in thought. "Chandler Bing?"
"Yeah," Monica confirmed. "Supposedly a friend of a friend of a friend."
Comprehension seemed to hit him, and he nodded. "Oh, yeah! George's friend!"
"Yeah!" Monica agreed, even though she had no idea who George was. "Do you happen to know where he lives?"
"Who?" he asked, "George?"
"No," she forced a smile, trying not to show her exasperation. "Chandler."
"Oh! Um…" he thought for a moment, as if the memory was just beyond his mind's reach, then suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Yeah! The Covington Arms on Lincoln, near Lakeview," he informed. "Why?"
She struggled for a quick response to his question. "He's a new friend, but I forgot where he said he lived," she lied. "He's in apartment…" She trailed off, hoping that because she did, he would finish the sentence, hence giving her the number.
He shrugged, "Got me. I've never been there. He just mentioned the name of the building in passing."
She nodded, "Ah. Ok. Well, I'll be sure to write it down next time," she continued with her front. "Thanks."
He smiled and walked away, and after a quick last sip of coffee, she dropped a tip on the table in front of her and gathered her belongings, her destination clear.
*****
--Monica waited near and in the lobby of Chandler's apartment building for over 2 hours, hoping he would be either coming or going at some point and she would get the chance to talk to him. Unfortunately, he never showed.
She thought briefly of checking at his work, but she dismissed the idea that he could be there, what with it being a Sunday and all. So, she staked out his apartment for as long as she could stand it.
Her being the kind of person who needs to keep busy, the very boring task of just standing around became more than just a little irritating to Monica, so she decided to head home, knowing her friends and brother would soon be looking for dinner.
--When she entered her apartment, Joey was already there, waiting for food with an empty plate in hand.
"Where have you been?" he asked worriedly, "I've been waiting here for 20 minutes!"
Monica jumped at his outburst, then eyed him warily. "Ya'know, you could cook dinner for yourself once in a while, right? What did you do before you moved in across the hall?"
"My Ma cooked for me!"
She rolled her eyes and sighed as she hung her purse on the hook. "Give me a minute to change, then I'll make dinner, ok?"
He could tell something was bothering her. "Hey, is something wrong?"
"Just-- Just a bad day… is all," she replied tiredly.
"If you want," Joey offered sympathetically, "I can just order Chinese food or something."
Monica smiled as she patted his head, appreciative of her friend's kindness. "That's alright," she hugged him. "I had planned to make spaghetti before--" She stopped short, and Joey noticed.
"Before…?"
Shaking her head, she pulled away from his embrace, "Nothing. Nevermind."
Just then Ross entered, and the attention flew off Monica and to her brother as he announced, "Dude! I have the best seats for the game tomorrow night!" He handed Joey the tickets as he hung up his coat, "Up for it?"
"Are you kidding?!" Joey exclaimed as he checked out the tickets, "I am there!"
Monica smiled as she slipped away to change, shutting her bedroom door to the sounds of her friend's and brother's excitement.
***
--"Hey, Chandler," Gunther half-waved, approaching him.
Chandler gave an up-nod, recognizing the stark blond-headed man immediately. "Hey, Gunther. How's it going?"
"Oh, pretty good," he replied, grabbing a half-gallon of milk off the cold grocery shelf. "Did Monica find you ok?"
Chandler froze at the mention of her name. "What?"
"She was looking for you earlier," Gunther muttered casually. "I couldn't remember your apartment number though."
Gunther started to walk away, and Chandler took a few quick steps to catch up. "You told her where I live?"
"Well, I told her the name of the building," he replied, then looked to Chandler. "Is that not ok?" he asked. "She told me you two were friends."
Taken aback by what he was hearing, Chandler could tell his reaction was causing the man he barely knew to become concerned, so he shook his head and smiled. "No, that's fine. We are friends, I just-- I didn't know she was looking for me."
Gunther seemed relieved. "Oh, ok." He started pushing his shopping cart again, "Yeah, I saw her at Central Perk earlier today. She said she couldn't remember where you said you lived, so…"
Chandler nodded, distracted with thought, "Yeah. Ok, thanks."
Gunther made a few more comments, but Chandler barely heard him, then they said their goodbyes and parted ways.
--He cut his shopping trip short, wanting to get home, wondering if when he got to his apartment, would Monica be there waiting for him?
***
--"Another great meal, Mon," Ross complimented his sister as he and all their friends sat around her apartment.
"It was just spaghetti, Ross," Monica dismissed the praise, "Pretty easy meal to make."
"For you maybe," Phoebe interjected. "For these guys," she gestured at Joey and Ross, "Anything that doesn't come with fries is something spectacular."
Everyone chuckled except for Monica, who offered just a slight smile in response to Phoebe's quip.
"What is wrong with you?" Ross asked. "You've been moping about all night!"
Monica, knowing Rachel's predisposition to gossiping, gave her a hard stare and shook her head just slightly as Joey added, "She was like that earlier too!"
"It's nothing guys, ok?" she assured them. "I just had a bad day is all. Haven't you ever had--?"
Her rhetorical question went unfinished, a knock at the door interrupting her, calling everyone's attention.
Usually by mid-evening, the only people that would be knocking on her door were the people already present and accounted for. They all looked at one another, and Joey and Phoebe both shrugged as Monica stood to answer the door.
Monica wouldn't normally peek through the peephole, unless it was after 10 or 11 P.M., but something made her look this time before opening the door. She gasped and pulled away from the door, her eyes landing on Rachel as she did.
Rachel could tell by looking at her friend who was at the door, and Monica seemed to be questioning her with her wide eyes as to what to do. Rachel shrugged just slightly, then sat at the edge of the chair as Monica turned towards the door.
She opened it just enough so as to peek out, not wanting her friends involved with the conversation that was about to take place. But it was already too late for that.
"Chandler," she whispered, "What are you doing here?"
TO BE CONTINUED…