Authors Note: Wow, I take a long time to update. I am so sorry, but only like 4 people reviewed the last chapter, so even though I really was busy, I wasn't motivated to continue anyway. And no, I am not asking for more reviews...well, I guess I am! Even if they are bad. Sure, I will disagree with it, but that's ok. LOL, I am just kidding. I am not particularly proud of this chapter, but that's ok. I am a little reluctant about posting it. Read it anyway. Hahahaha :).
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; only all the drugs! Muwahahahahahahahah!
Monica stared at her new roommate who has dressed in vibrant colours and un matching patterns. Phoebe smiled. This was her first day in here, and she was smiling?? This girl really was on crack. No pun intended, Monica smiled to herself. Monica wondered what brought this woman here. She looked so strong, confident; not confused and frightened like Monica had been on her first day.
"So," Monica started not really knowing what to say.
"You want to know what I am addicted to, don't you?" The woman asked, smiling as she had taken out a purple and pink striped sun dress from her beaten-up suitcase. She eyed it carefully and threw it onto the bed.
"Um, how did you know?"asked Monica slowly, for she was afraid that this woman would snap at her, yet surprisingly, she did not.
"It's a gift," Phoebe laughed. "I am psychic."
"Oh," was all Monica could say. How do you reply to such a crazy response?
"Anyway, I am not really addicted to anything, but don't tell anyone." Phoebe told Monica in a softer tone. Now, she was seated on her bed, enjoying the comfort of a mattress rather than the comfort of the cement.
"Then why are you here?"
"It's safer than prison," Phoebe exclaimed as if that explained everything.
"You're a criminal?!" Monica asked incredulously.
"Oh, please," Phoebe giggled, "I live on the streets, and I needed shelter. I had two options: prison or fake an addiction."
"Where did you get the money to be here?" Monica demanded, hoping it wouldn't anger this woman. She could not believe someone would choose to live here.
"Well, my friend Rodney, the crazy rattlesnake guy, had been saving up to get a Porsche, but that really wasn't working out. Those damn things are expensive!" Phoebe yelled, jumping off topic. "So yeah, back to the money thing. He died, and in his street will, he left me his savings. I have enough to stay here for two weeks, so I am here. If anyone asks, I am addicted to shrooms!"
"Wow, that is. . .quite the story. Anyway, you're secret is safe with me," Monica replied, not wanting to upset her new roommate.
"Well, I have to go. Dr. Bing wants to see me. He is so cute, don't you think?" Phoebe asked not trying to hide the grin on her face.
"I guess," Monica replied slowly not wanting to reveal her true feelings.
"I was thinking of asking him out in two weeks. I hear he's single." Phoebe continued on. She did not notice Monica's change in expression.
"W-Why would you want to ask him out?" Monica asked. The last thing she needed was competition.
"Umm, he's hot and so sweet. When I met him, I could feel the connection. I can feel these things, you know. It's the psychic powers that I have. Anyway, ta ta my crazy addict!" After finishing her sentence, Phoebe skipped out of the room.
Monica stood in the middle of her room, stunned. She did not know what to do. She couldn't stop this woman, and she really couldn't stop Chandler. No matter how much she was yearning to. Why did this woman have to show up and ruin everything? Fuck her, the voice in Monica's head screamed.
Hours passed and Monica was sleeping in her bed, dreaming. It must have been a fantastic dream, for there was a smile on her face. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Monica awoke abruptly. "Who's there?" she called out frustrated.
"It's me," said the voice.
Monica immediately recognized who it was. Quickly, she rose from her bed, opened the door, and stood face to face with Chandler, the man in her dreams. "What are you doing here," Monica asked, trying not to smile.
"Well, you missed your appointment, and I was worried." Chandler admitted shyly.
"You were worried about me?" Monica asked. She could not help but grin. She tried to look into his eyes, but they were glued to the floor.
"Yeah, I was."
"That's really sweet. I thought you would forget about me after meeting the great Phoebe," commented Monica bitterly. She chose this moment to sit on her bed and look away from him.
"What?"
"She wants you, and she has this crazy idea that you want her too," Monica started, and at this poin,t she stoop up and began to pace. "I mean, it's not like you are mine or anything, and it's not like we're a couple, but I don't want to lose the idea that it could happen. You know, this always happens. Every time I fall for a guy, there's always someone better for him. It's not like I plan for that to happen. It's just so. . ." Monica kept rambling her crazy thoughts until Chandler stopped her.
"Back up there, falling for me?" Chandler asked somewhat surprised. He knew she liked him a lot, but falling. That was just . . . outrageous.
"Yes, falling for you. As in love. You know that four letter word that ruins every ones life? Well, now it has ruined mine too!" Monica expressed.
"I," Chandler attempted to say something in return, "don't like Phoebe like that." Well, it was better than staying silent.
"Well, you probably will, and then you two will get married, and have one of those houses with a white picket fence while I am living in some small apartment, lonely, with a dog named Gulliver! Life really sucks!" Monica couldn't help but talk crazy. She just felt something needed to be said here, and if it doesn't make sense then so be it.
Chandler really was having a hard time absorbing what she was trying to say. She was hurting; he could see that. However, this was just. . .foolish. "Monica, calm down. First of all, who would ever name their dog Gulliver?" Chandler asked, grinning at her. She was so vulnerable right now.
Monica couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Maybe that wasn't what she wanted to hear, but it was soothing nonetheless. "Well, my friend Rachel named her dog Lapoo, so anything is possible," Monica smiled.
Chandler couldn't help but laugh. "I guess you're right," he smiled while taking this chance to sit beside her. "You have nothing to worry about," he finally said.
"You mean that?" Monica questioned much like a child who needed to know someone cared.
"Yeah," Chandler responded, taking her small hand into his. "Nothing at all."
Monica entwined her fingers with his. It felt nice being here with him. It was comforting to know that he would be here for her until the end, and she hoped the end would be longer than just this one year.
Chandler sighed. He knew that he shouldn't be this intimate with a patient, but he couldn't help it. It was as if his mind had been overpowered by his heart. And, his heart desperately wanted her. "Why did you miss your appointment?" Chandler asked, trying to change the subject.
"I fell asleep." Monica replied honestly.
"Ok," Chandler accepted this answer. "But Monica, you're brother is here."
"Ross?" Monica asked knowing that it was a stupid question, for he was her only brother, but she could not help it.
"Yeah, it's time to get into your personal life. It's time to truly fight this." Chandler announced. "Are you ready?"
"I think I am." Monica answered nervously. It was now or never, right?
As Monica walked down the hall alongside Chandler, she felt anxious. Her heart was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her hands were sweating profusely. She was finally going to face not only her addiction but also the person who that addiction had created. The emotions that that one drug let out created a monster out of Monica. She lost who she was, who she wanted to be, and who she could have aspired to be. Junkie is the term that her mother used to describe her condition. A word that made the spirit within Monica fade, vanish into the earth's atmosphere. Within seconds, Monica would bring this lifestyle to life once again. A life style that would terrify the average human being if they were to succumb to such a horrible life. What had caused Monica to give in? Had it been the peer pressure, or had it been her? She was about to receive that answer; however, what terrified Monica was what that answer would be.
"Have a seat," Chandler directed in his professional tone. He looked at the man sitting in the other seat "Ross, I know that you and I do know each other, but we have to treat this situation with professionalism. At this time, I am no longer your college roommate but your sister's doctor. Are we clear on that?"
"Yes, I am," Ross replied. He knew this situation was rather ironic, but for Monica's sake and for the sake of his own, he would treat it as normal. Whatever normal meant, anyway.
"Ok, I would like to start by telling you both why you are here. Monica, my personal strategy is not only heal the patients wounds, but also the scars of the family. I like to work through such sessions with two clear point of views. Now, with that being said, I would like to begin. Ross, when did you first realize Monica's addiction?"
"It all started at my 19th birthday bash. My. . .Our parents had thrown me a huge party with all of my family. . ."
*Flashback- around 1988*
All of the guests were seated chatting in the ribbon decorated hall. There were seven round tables filled with people laughing, smiling, hugging, chattering, or just saying nothing. Judy, dressed in a pastel blue sun dress, had made her way to the podium. She had a small paper in her hand. Obviously, she was ready to say a speech on her son's behalf. She had slowly adjusted the microphone to her height and tested it once. When she acknowledged that it had been working, she smiled and looked at her son who was eating cake and conversing with some friends. "Ross," she started, "I wanted to wish you a happy birthday by saying a few words. When my Rossy was five years old, he won his first spelling bee. I remember the smile on his face. . ."
When she had been reminiscing of such a time, many of the guests stared at Ross who was about five deep shades of red. "Mom!" He interrupted, for he was embarrassed.
"Anyway," Judy expressed forcefully, implying that she was ready to continue. "It was at that time when I knew one day my son would make me the proudest mother. His intelligence and his mind always amazed me. . ."
"Wait a minute!!!!" Monica yelled, interrupting her mother's praising. "I won a spelling Bee when I was 6, and you said..'Good work' and then walked away. But Ross gets fucking praise for winning one?! I don't think that's fair. Let me tell you the truth about Ross! He's not this perfect person this woman is making him out to be" Monica spatted out while joining her mom at the podium.
"Monica!" Her mother yelled.
"Don't Monica me, you old hag! Let me finish! Ok, about Ross. A few months ago, I was walking into the house, and I saw him in his room," Monica giggled after this and "stage" whispered, "playing with his wee wee!! Hahahahah! What a great son, right mom! And you know what he was reading?! DAD'S Playboys! Oh, such intelligence. Naked woman."
"Monica stop!!!!" Her mother yelled once more.
"I told you to go away! Stop interrupting me! It's my turn to shine. MY TURN!!!!! And one day, I saw Ross. . ."
"Monica!" her father yelled out. "How could you?! Look at your brother. He doesn't deserve this." Ross was sitting at his table covering his eyes. He was trying to hide the tears of embarrassment that were flowing from his eyes.
"Oh, so you're saying that he is so great that he doesn't deserve this? Did I deserve all of those years of neglect?! Every time you would hug Ross or tell him how great he was, and not even take a second look at me. Or how you fed me just so that I would never have the chance to talk, and then blame the fact that I got fat on me! Are you saying that I deserved to be treated like a screw-up than a person who makes mistakes and learns from them. It's not fair. It's NEVER fair. You hurt me, you messed ME up! Ross can't do anything wrong, but I can! Did you not hear what I said before about what he was doing to your playboys?! No, because he's too great."
"I apologize for her," Judy told the guests who were all shell-shocked by such an outburst. "This is our problem child."
"There you go again! Labeling me! I don't need you! I don't need any of you! You are all fuckers who don't care about anything but yourselves. You sicken me!" Monica, after finishing her speech, ran our of the hall in tears.
"I am so sorry, Ross," Judy said.
"Mom! You're just going to let her run?!" Ross, forgetting that Monica had insulted him, ran out of the hall in search for her. As Ross walked down the halls, he would call her name, hoping for a response, but nothing. What happened to his sister? He wondered. . .what happened. . . As he walked passed the bathrooms, he heard someone crying. "Monica?" he called out gently. He chose this moment to open the door, and what he saw was beyond shocking, and it was beyond all of the vulgar words she had said at his party. She was snorting a drug. His sister was getting high. "Monica!!" he screamed, but in a soft voice, so that he would not be heard. "What are you doing?!"
Monica looked at him, her face wet with tears, her eyes, red. She quickly wiped her nose and hid her stash. "Ross! What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he answered in a stern voice. "Monica, how could you?"
"I'm sorry about the speech, I really am. I never should have done that. . .I don't know what came over me. It's like it wasn't me Ross. It wasn't me. I am me now. I am better."
"Just stop. I saw you. . .I saw you putting that stuff..well, you know." Ross stuttered nervously. He never would even think of his sister being involved in such a. . .such a thing.
"You saw that. . ." Monica restated. "I can explain, Ross. A friend, yes, a friend gave this to me. This is the first time, I swear. I tried to stop myself, really I did, but I couldn't. And when I said those things, I needed more. But I'll stop ok? I am not addicted. I'll stop, I swear." This of course was a lie, but lucky for Monica, Ross believed it.
"Ok," he voiced softly. "Just don't. . .don't do it again, ok?"
"Ok," Monica assured, and she hugged him to prove this. While she was in his arms, he knew that she was telling the truth. Ross could feel it.
"And I am not going to forgive you for a while for what you said in there." Ross stated honestly, breaking the hug.
"I know." Monica nodded.
"But I still love you, ok?"
"I know that too." Monica smiled.
"I am going to get back to the party, and I hope everyone has settled down. I want you there for the rest of it, so that I can keep an eye on you. You will not speak to anyone." Ross told her in a fatherly voice.
"Ok," Monica replied.
"Good. I want you to flush that down the toilet."
"I will." When she saw that he was waiting for her to do so, she commented, "Ross, I'll do it. You can trust me. Just go back. I have to fix my make up."
"Ok," Ross agreed slowly. He was unsure of whether he should trust her in this state, but he also didn't want to anger her.
"Five minutes." After his last order, Ross left the bathroom. Monica was alone again. She looked in the mirror and stared at herself. She wasn't proud of tonight. She then looked down at the few grams of cocaine that she had left. Slowly, she walked over to the toilet and dropped the small container into the water. When she reached for the handle to make this final, she stopped. She couldn't do this. She placed her hand into the toilet and held the container again. She quickly ripped some toilet paper and dried it off. Looking around to make sure no one was there, she put the case back into her purse. Who was she kidding? She needed this stuff to live.
*End of Flashback*
Monica cried when she heard this story about her past. She even added in that she had not flushed the case of coke down the toilet. She regretted it. She regretted not trying to stop then. When she looked over at her brother, she could see the tears in his eyes. He was hurting. Gently, Monica reached over and took his hand into hers. "I am so sorry, Ross. I am sorry I said those things, and I am sorry I lied. I am so so so so sorry," she sobbed. "I love you so much, and I know I didn't show it. Oh god, I didn't show it at all, but I do. . .love you."
"I can't," Ross expressed. "I can't forgive you right now. For that. For everything"
This made Monica cry even more. "I know," she told him seriously. Who would forgive her for this?
"You lied to me. I trusted you, and you lied. I can't continue right now. I have to go. I can't be with her. I thought I could do this, but I can't I'm sorry, Chandler."
He was gone.
Monica stared at his retreating figure and cried. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "So sorry," she whimpered. "Chandler?" she whispered after a few minutes.
"Yeah?" Chandler questioned. He was overwhelmed by what he had just heard and how vulnerable she was.
"Do you hate me?" she asked, tears streaming down her face. She made no attempt to push them aside.
"No," he breathed. "Not at all."
"Good." She muttered. "Can I go?"
"Yeah, if you feel you have to."
"I just need to think about some things." She confided. Monica knew that he would understand.
"Go," he said. "We'll continue this later."
"Thanks." Monica got up from her chair and walked out of his office not even looking at him one last time. She couldn't look at anyone right now. She couldn't face another look of disappointment.
When she walked into her room, she noticed that Phoebe was not there. Good, she thought. She needed to be alone. She carefully walked to her bed, and she
allowed her body to rest on it. She then turned on her radio, and "Morning Star" by AFI came on.
I saw a star beneath the stairs
glowing through the melting walls.
Who will be the first to begin their fall?
Or will we become one?
Monica walked to the window and looked outside as the lyrics were being sung. She could feel what this singer was expressing. She felt it in her heart.
Am I the star beneath the stairs?
Am I a ghost upon the stage?
Am I your anything?
When she looked outside, she saw Phoebe talking to Chandler as he was leaving. They were smiling.
I saw a star beneath the stairs
glowing bright before descent
and in the morning there is nothing left
but what's inside of me.
Monica felt her heart beat faster when Phoebe touched his arms. Chandler smiled again. Didn't like her? She was finding those words hard to believe. He must have lied to her.
Am I the star beneath the stairs?
Am I a ghost upon the stage?
Am I your anything?
Monica began to cry as she realized that she probably lost him. Her fucking past ruined her chances of ever finding love- the one thing everyone needed in life. And what he had heard was one of the better stories. He would surely hate her when he knew everything.
And I don't want to die tonight;
will you believe in me?
And I don't want to fall into the light.
Will you wish upon?
Will you walk upon me?
I don't want to die tonight.
She looked into the sky, and saw a star shining as if it were independent from the others. She wished that this hurt would stop. When the music had gotten louder and the singer was shouting his pain, she walked to the sink. It was still there: the razor.
Will you believe in me tonight?
Am I the star beneath the stairs?
Am I a ghost upon the stage?
Am I your anything?
Monica eyed it carefully. This took away Katherine's pain. It helped her. She looked out of the window once again. They were still talking and laughing. She was nothing to him. He didn't care... he never did.
As Monica brought the razor to her wrist, someone walked into her room. "Monica," they protested. "Don't do this."
Monica looked at this person. She was stunned. Once again, she looked at the razor which was lightly touching her wrist.
TBC
Well, I stuck a cliffhanger on this one. Tell me what you thought. I will, if the demand if there, write the next chapter by the end of the week. If not, I'll do my homework. *dances around singing* Have fun. Oh, and if you can, download that song I posted the lyrics to. It's really good! :) I am also guessing no one knows it. :)