AN: Wow! I was shocked and…well, let's face it, I was giddy when I saw that my Inbox was full of reviews for this fic! (Getting reviews makes me happy!) I was really hesitant about posting this one, cuz I thought that it wasn't that good, and they all seemed kinda out of character, and…okay, shutting up, cuz I know no one reads Author's Notes…but THANK YOU for all the great reviews, and I hope that I can live up to your expectations…anyhoo, this is short, but it's the best I could do on short notice…I have to go cook Thanksgiving dinner now, so, Happy T-day!
The Theory
~Chapter II~
They're the ones who'll hate you
When you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you,
You will be the one screaming out
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing that you ever, ever had
It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing you ever had has gone away
(High & Dry, Radiohead)
In all those stories and clichéd movies, there is a certain symbolism behind sunrise: 'the dawning of a new day', a 'new start', a 'fresh perspective'. The rising sun brings with it 'renewed hope', and a way to 'Begin Again'.
But sometimes, a sunrise is just…a sunrise.
Because for Chandler, everything had changed the night before. Darkness had fallen over New York City long before his life had been turned upside down. Everything he thought he knew was wrong, and all of the insecurities he had been fighting since childhood came screaming back at him, taunting him, stinging him.
The last time he felt this kind of betrayal, this kind of hopelessness, was during his parent's divorce. He remembered sitting in the long, cold, hallowed halls of the courthouse, on a hard, cold marble bench, for hours, while lawyers consulted, and adults he'd never see again—aunts, and uncles and "friends", tried to decide What Was Best For The Boy. No one bothered to ask him how he felt—no one even paid attention to him, when, convinced that no one really wanted him, he began to cry. All he really wanted, was his family—he didn't want to be alone anymore.
For years, Chandler had dreaded the Holidays. Every day from Thanksgiving to Christmas was a blur to him. After The Divorce, and even a few times before it, he had spent Christmas' alone, blandly playing with the extravagant gifts his parents bought him to compensate for the fact that they weren't there to see his face when he opened them. It was only when he was out on his own, after college that he began to truly enjoy the holidays. To him, Joey, Monica, Ross, Rachel and Phoebe were his family—they were all he had, and all he needed. He clung to them, and loved them, and cared for them like the family he'd always wanted. Christmas eventually became a joyous time—he didn't need big fancy gifts; In fact one of his favorite Christmas' was a few years ago, when Monica and Rachel made everyone cookies, because they could not afford anything else. He remembered watching Monica, as she bit her lower lip nervously, offering apologetic glances to her friends. But above all, he remembered the way her face lit up, when he'd pulled her aside later that night, and told her, in all honesty, that it was the best gift he'd ever received.
It was moments like this that made Chandler smile. Which was why he was so confused by the recent turn of events. He loved his friends, and cared about them unconditionally. How had he been so blind? Did they not love him? Respect him? Thinking back at some of their jokes…and the way that they never seemed to know what was going on with him…how none of them could name his job to save their lives (even though both Joey and Phoebe had worked with him at one point) all of it was now taking form in his mind—he was seeing them in an entirely different light. My God, what if they really just put up with him because he lived across the hall? His mind was racing, and his paranoia was quickly spinning out of control. He wandered aimlessly out of the park, and for the first time since he'd moved into the city, Chandler didn't know where to go.
~*~
He hadn't come home all night. No one could find him, and he wouldn't answer his cell phone. Ross and Phoebe had just returned from their "shift", scouring the city—looking everywhere that he may have fled. They had talked about it, for a long time. When they had told Chandler about what was going on, for some reason, they all expected a hardy laugh, and a smart-ass remark from Chandler. Instead, they got a confused stare, a long silence, and a lot of yelling.
No one had ever really seen Chandler yell before. It was surreal, and a little scary. He was over-the-top angry, and he had stormed out before anyone had time to react. At first, they all thought that he was just embarrassed, and they all shrugged it off, and went down to the coffee shop. But the more they thought about it, the more they realized that Chandler was really upset, and that none of them had been prepared for that reaction.
Now, in the morning light, they all began talking about what most of them had been pondering all night long: Chandler was not upset that they had tricked him—he was upset because he had been betrayed. Perhaps he had truly believed that Monica had feelings for him—perhaps he had ended things with Kathy because of it.
They all suddenly realized that they hadn't seen Kathy in weeks. Even Joey hadn't seen her, and all of them reluctantly confessed that they had not asked Chandler about her, or their relationship. They had all assumed that Chandler and Kathy were still dating; what if they weren't? What if Chandler had seen that Monica was interested, and had ruined things with Kathy because of it?
Of course, none of them wanted to admit that they might have ruined their friend's life.
They all sat in the living room of Monica and Rachel's apartment, staring sleepily into space, hoping that Chandler would come back, so that they could explain, and apologize.
How had they allowed this to happen?
The silence in the room was so thick, and so stiff, that the simple rattle of a jiggling doorknob startled them all completely. The knob turned, and the door swung open slowly, creaking exactly where it always did; the five friends turned, and watched Chandler walk in—and once again, they were unprepared for what stood before him.
His eyes were vacant; his face, expressionless. His shoulders were slumped in a miserable resignation—he looked like a man who had just Lost Everything.
Little did they know, that he truly believed that he had.