Second to last chapter. I wrote a play which is a bit of a spin off, tentatively called Learning to Fly. The character is very similar to my version of Monica and she meets a nice guy trying to help her. Anyway, enough with shameless self promoting. I hope you've all enjoyed it. This chapter is going to be long, I'm warning you. The next will be an epilogue. Enjoy! (Review please!)

23

Mr. Bing?

Chandler opened his eyes. A young doctor stood in front of him, shifting from one foot from another, shifting a clipboard from one hand to the other. He seemed to calm as Chandler sat up. He cleared his throat and straightened.

Ms. Geller is going to be fine. We would like to just keep her under observation.

Chandler thought he would cry. He had been at the hospital for almost two days. He'd rushed in after walking from the motel, three miles away. Monica had still been unconscious by the time he's arrived. She'd been laid on a stretcher and whisked away, leaving him in the emergency room. After spending six hours in the cafeteria drinking burnt coffee, he'd hunted down a nurse and spent another three hours trying to figure what had happened to her. A doctor had finally found him. Alcohol poisoning and cocaine overdose. Unsure of her condition. Still unconscious. Chandler napped in the waiting room and drank the burnt coffee waiting for news.

Can I see her? Chandler asked, eyes pleading, I'm her fiancee. A white lie never hurt anyone, he reminded himself.

The doctor looked uncertain, before nodding. Room 314, he said, waving in the general direction.

Chandler raced to the room, dodging orderlies and gurneys. Slowing, he peered into the room. Monica lay in bed, looking like an angel, her hair spread out around her face. The sunshine made her skin almost translucent and glowing. She looked very pale. He went to her, sitting on the chair under the window. He took one of her hands and kissed it. Her eyes drifted open.

Hey sweetie, he said, smiling. She smiled back weakly. How ya feeling? he continued, brushing hair back from her forehead.

All right, I guess. She seemed distracted, not looking at him.

You gave me a good scare.

I'm sorry. Where's Ross?

On his way. Is there something bothering you?

She looked at him. she said, nodding slowly. I don't deserve you-

Oh sweetie-

No, please, don't start. She paused, looked out the window again. Without thinking, he produced a cigarette and handed it to her. I don't deserve you. She paused as she lit it. I haven't been totally honest with you. Jay... well... I haven't been faithful.

Chandler felt like he'd been slapped.

I fucked him, Chandler, she looked at him for the first time. I fucked him, that's why you got the record deal.

No- no- Chandler got up and raced from the room, nearly tripping on his chair.

24

Chandler stared sullenly out the windshield. She fucked him over. How could she do this to him? After everything he'd done for her... Dammit, why did he have to love her! It was so stupid, it made it so much harder to hate her, when he was head over heels for her.

Monica sat, watching Highway 417 whip by. Her eyes were grainy from crying. She finished what seemed like her umpteenth cigarette of the day and tossed it from the window. Rain spurt across windshield. It was a dreary day. Fine by her. She was in a shitty mood anyway,

They were nearing Ottawa. To their left left stood a massive sign flashing the time and temperature. A shopping mall stood, gray and dingy behind it. Unfamiliar shops like Eaton's and Zellers were advertised on the wall. She shook her head. It was strange being in Canada. She could actually drink and smoke legally and it was abnormally warm for 20 degrees.

They were playing at Barrymore's tonight. Ross was the only one psyched. After she had basically terminated her relationship with Chandler back in the hospital, he didn't seem to care about anything.

25


The final notes from Chandler's guitar faded to shouts of approval from the crowd. This was his element and he felt himself relax for the first time. The evening had been going great so far. But he still felt empty inside.

For my next song- he began, scanning then stopping suddenly.

Monica sat at the bar, gulping at a rum and coke. The alcohol burned her throat and felt good. Now that it was over with Chandler, fuck it, she needed to fill that void that had appeared in her stomach.

Ross and Chandler had been great so far, but she had barely been listening. She shoved her glass across the bar again and asked for a refill.

For my next song-

She looked at the stage. Then Chandler's eyes met hers. Electricity like they'd never even been close to touching suddenly scorched them both and she gasped. Despite the fifty feet that separated them, she could see every detail of his face, every freckle and crinkle. I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I WANT YOU I WANT TO ALWAYS BE WITH YOU I WANT-

He caught himself and restarted. For my next song, I want to dedicate it to someone here tonight. I think you'll know who you are.

He gestured to Ross and Chandler began to play a song heavier than most of the ones they'd played.

Kiss me hard
And forget the past the future
You just want me now
Tell me a tale of the future

He quickened the his strums and the crowd moshed.

There is no love left in your eyes
There is love between your thighs.

Suddenly he stopped and began to play a slower tune.

Somewhere there's speaking
It's already coming in
Oh and it's rising at the back of your mind
You never could get it
Unless you were fed it
Now you're here and you don't know why

But under skinned knees and the skid marks
Past the places where you used to learn
You howl and listen
Listen and wait for the
Echoes of angels who won't return

He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be

 It's me, Monica thought. She shoved her way to the front of crowd. She stared up at him, tears burning her eyes. His eyes locked on hers and held her.

He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why

She scrambled over the security line. Chandler, still furiously playing his guitar, shouted something to a security guard, who boosted her to the stage. Lights strobed before her, her tears crystals in her eyes. Guitar and drums pounded around her.

I love you, Monica, he said, voice barely audible. She grabbed him and kissed him soundly. He dropped his pick and gathered her closer. She didn't need to say it. He already knew.

Shouts of approval, whistles and catcalls filled the room but they didn't hear a single one.