Chapter 4
I was born to love you
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with friends
A/N: Dedicated to Sarah, who I apologise to for not updating sooner :o) Thanks for all you're reviews hon'...keep them coming :o)
Vanessa, if you're reading...I'e tried to email you sweetie, but it keeps coming back. Is your mail box full? Plz mail me and ill try and reply. Mwah xxx
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BANG!
"What the hell!" Monica, startled by the extremely loud slamming of the door flung the top half of her body off the mattress, her heart pounding in her chest like a very fast drum.
It took her eyes a while to settle in the darkness that enveloped her, but when it did she calmed down.
"Jeez, Rachel, you scared me!" She let out a relieved sigh. It was only her friend coming home, and not some burglar like she had first imagined.
"I'm sorry Mon, but, I've had the worst night of my life!" She positioned herself down on her friend's bed, throwing herself dramatically into Monica's arms for a much needed hug, which her friend always dished out willingly at times like these when she felt emotionally wounded.
"Aw, sweetie, what caused you and Joey to break up this time?" Instinct and the regularity of splits in their tempestuous relationship told Monica exactly why her friend and roommate was sobbing uncontrollably on her shoulder at 4am.
"I hate him Mon, he's so selfish." Monica nodded her head in sympathy, but deep down she knew the real reason for their apparent fight would have been Rachel's selfishness and not her boyfriends that had caused them to argue. She knew her friend inside and out, the good and the bad. She had after all been on the receiving end of Rachel's egocentricity herself.
Rachel was such a good hearted, loving person, with so many amazing qualities, but every now and then her spoilt, daddies girl attitude would come raging out and alienate people in the worst possible way. But that was just Rachel; she was blind to it, so her friends let it slide and loved her despite her faults, of which she had many.
"He doesn't understand me! This weekend was supposed to be perfect, but somehow it's turned into this awful nightmare that I just want to wake up from! We're growing apart Mon, and no matter what I do I just can't hold us together. And the worst part is, I don't think he really cares. His career is the only thing he loves; I'm just a piece of arm candy that he can parade about at parties and premieres, to make him look good. I'm the token blonde girlfriend." She continued to cry like a baby, curling herself into the foetal position on the bed.
Monica stroked her hair gently and lay down beside her. She had run out of words of comfort for Rachel, so kept quiet instead. She didn't need to be psychic to see how this would all end anyway.
In the morning when Rachel woke up things would be back to normal, like nothing had ever happened. She would be back in love with her boyfriend and call to patch things up, like she always did the morning after she had threatened never to speak to him again.
But this time would be ever so slightly different. For there would be a shock waiting for her on the other end of the line.
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"Wow!" Phoebe could hardly believe her own eyes. It was like she was standing in the middle of a lavish palace belonging to royalty.
Joey on the other hand was less impressed. To him this was yet another penthouse suite of some mundane hotel which was charging him an absolute fortune to be staying there. It hardly had the comforts of home, but he was humoured that Phoebe found it so overwhelming. He had been just the same staying here for the first time, but he knew all too well that the novelty soon wore off.
Crystal chandeliers were dotted symmetrically along the ceiling from which they hung; its dangling diamond shapes cast shadows along the highly polished wooden floor, like a disco's mirror ball. The plush white sofa ran along the entire length of the huge ceiling to floor window that's view of the city was breathtaking. She was sure she had never seen anything more beautiful in her 18 years on earth.
This whole situation seemed so surreal, like an amazing dream she would be sorry to wake up from...a dream come true.
She took a quick look around, being overly careful not to touch or knock anything for fear of breaking something. Everything looked so expensive, more money than she could afford in a lifetime if something was ruined.
"Sit down, make yourself comfy." He pointed to the couch and walked over to the corner bar, where he proceeded to pour himself a stiff drink, a JD and coke with lots of ice.
"Would you like one?" He lifted his glass and watched as Phoebe hovered indecisively where she had been standing.
"Erm, sure, why not? Just give me whatever you're having." He lifted another glass from the shelf, poured in the same mixture that was in his own and walked towards her, trying not to spill a drop.
He sat himself down and motioned for her to join him.
"Sit down, you can't be comfortable standing there like that" He smiled to put her at ease, but that quickly turned to a confused scowl as he watched her situate herself on the cold, bare floor at his feet.
"Phoebe, you can sit up here with me." He patted the sofa cushion to his left hand side, but she didn't budge. Instead she turned bright red, and shook her head from side to side.
"I can't"
"Why not?" He couldn't help but find her behaviour slightly strange but at the same time adorable.
"My clothes are filthy, if I sit on the couch it will get dirty." It didn't seem possible but her face flushed even brighter and she hung her head in shame at having to admit yet again something she found terribly embarrassing.
Her humiliation level had hit its maximum.
"Oh don't worry about that!" He couldn't hide his relief that that's all she was being "weird" about. This was no big deal. Not in his eyes anyway.
He knew she was mortified, and felt partially responsible. He had pushed her, when she should just have left her sitting on the ground where she was happy.
How could he make it better? It didn't take him long to come up with an answer.
"Look!" he waited until he had gotten her attention and tipped his glass 180 degrees, its dark contents complying with the laws of gravity spilled onto the sparklingly clean seat, leaving a huge brown stain, which began to seep and spread at a rapid pace.
She gave a quick, shocked gasp as she watched the event unfold, unbelieving that Joey could be so crazy.
"It's just a chair sweetie...its only material, it washes and it's replaceable." She had to laugh at his extreme measure to make her feel at ease.
She pushed herself up and warily sat next to him, avoiding the wet patch Joey had created with his drink and clasped her hands matronly in front of her, still feeling awkward at possibly messing up this immaculate piece of furniture. But if Joey said it was ok with him, then it was ok with her.
He sat his glass down on the table closest to the seat he was in and rose to his feet.
"Make yourself at home. I badly need a shower! Wash last nights stress away!"
Once he was gone Phoebe began to relax a little bit. She no longer felt like she had to be on guard of every small thing she did. Even breathing felt a little easier with him not watching her.
She knew exactly why she felt so insecure, but was adamant it would never show. Joey would never understand what it was like to feel like a second class citizen...he could relate in the slightest, but this was nice while it lasted.
She turned around to the gigantic glass window pane behind her and eagerly observed the minuscule cars and tiny ant sized people going about there early morning business hundreds of feet below her, in a world that right at that minute seemed so far removed from the one she was used to.
Her mind was distracted for what seemed like an eternity, until a noise that she hadn't heard in years startled her back to reality.
Her head spun around and her eyes rested on the source of the distraction...a modern replica of an old fashioned telephone that was placed in the middle of a small, round glass table.
It continued to ring loudly as she pondered whether to answer it, but the decision was taken out of her hands.
"Phoebe, can you get that?!" Joey's voice echoed from the tiled bathroom amongst the noise of running water and gushing steam.
It had been so long since she had answered a phone, and her stomach churned in anxiety at the prospect of speaking into the plastic invention.
Her hand shook visibly as she picked up the receiver.
"He...hello?!" She heard what sounded like a gasp and the phone line went dead, returning to a dialling tone which she listened to for a second before replacing the receiver into the handset.
"Who was it?" Joey stood behind, his hair wet and his lower body wrapped in a fluffy white towel. His muscularly toned chest was almost a distraction to her, but she composed herself and averted her eyes to a place she deemed appropriate.
"I'm not sure. Whoever it was didn't speak"
"Hmm, must have been a wrong number."
Both shrugged it off and prepared to get some well deserved sleep, but across town the last thing on a certain persons mind was bed.
Rachel slammed the phone down in its cradle and stood staring at it like it would give her answers that she desperately needed to know.
As realisations hit home anger began to bubble in her. She felt like a red hot poker had been speared into her heart and split it in two.
She glanced over at a still very much asleep Monica, who was snoring lightly and grabbed her jacket quietly so as not to wake her friend. She threw it on over the clothes in which she hadn't yet changed out of since the previous night and carefully slipped out of the bedroom door.
Her boyfriend was cheating on her...and she was going to find out who her competition was!
I was born to love you
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with friends
A/N: Dedicated to Sarah, who I apologise to for not updating sooner :o) Thanks for all you're reviews hon'...keep them coming :o)
Vanessa, if you're reading...I'e tried to email you sweetie, but it keeps coming back. Is your mail box full? Plz mail me and ill try and reply. Mwah xxx
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
BANG!
"What the hell!" Monica, startled by the extremely loud slamming of the door flung the top half of her body off the mattress, her heart pounding in her chest like a very fast drum.
It took her eyes a while to settle in the darkness that enveloped her, but when it did she calmed down.
"Jeez, Rachel, you scared me!" She let out a relieved sigh. It was only her friend coming home, and not some burglar like she had first imagined.
"I'm sorry Mon, but, I've had the worst night of my life!" She positioned herself down on her friend's bed, throwing herself dramatically into Monica's arms for a much needed hug, which her friend always dished out willingly at times like these when she felt emotionally wounded.
"Aw, sweetie, what caused you and Joey to break up this time?" Instinct and the regularity of splits in their tempestuous relationship told Monica exactly why her friend and roommate was sobbing uncontrollably on her shoulder at 4am.
"I hate him Mon, he's so selfish." Monica nodded her head in sympathy, but deep down she knew the real reason for their apparent fight would have been Rachel's selfishness and not her boyfriends that had caused them to argue. She knew her friend inside and out, the good and the bad. She had after all been on the receiving end of Rachel's egocentricity herself.
Rachel was such a good hearted, loving person, with so many amazing qualities, but every now and then her spoilt, daddies girl attitude would come raging out and alienate people in the worst possible way. But that was just Rachel; she was blind to it, so her friends let it slide and loved her despite her faults, of which she had many.
"He doesn't understand me! This weekend was supposed to be perfect, but somehow it's turned into this awful nightmare that I just want to wake up from! We're growing apart Mon, and no matter what I do I just can't hold us together. And the worst part is, I don't think he really cares. His career is the only thing he loves; I'm just a piece of arm candy that he can parade about at parties and premieres, to make him look good. I'm the token blonde girlfriend." She continued to cry like a baby, curling herself into the foetal position on the bed.
Monica stroked her hair gently and lay down beside her. She had run out of words of comfort for Rachel, so kept quiet instead. She didn't need to be psychic to see how this would all end anyway.
In the morning when Rachel woke up things would be back to normal, like nothing had ever happened. She would be back in love with her boyfriend and call to patch things up, like she always did the morning after she had threatened never to speak to him again.
But this time would be ever so slightly different. For there would be a shock waiting for her on the other end of the line.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
"Wow!" Phoebe could hardly believe her own eyes. It was like she was standing in the middle of a lavish palace belonging to royalty.
Joey on the other hand was less impressed. To him this was yet another penthouse suite of some mundane hotel which was charging him an absolute fortune to be staying there. It hardly had the comforts of home, but he was humoured that Phoebe found it so overwhelming. He had been just the same staying here for the first time, but he knew all too well that the novelty soon wore off.
Crystal chandeliers were dotted symmetrically along the ceiling from which they hung; its dangling diamond shapes cast shadows along the highly polished wooden floor, like a disco's mirror ball. The plush white sofa ran along the entire length of the huge ceiling to floor window that's view of the city was breathtaking. She was sure she had never seen anything more beautiful in her 18 years on earth.
This whole situation seemed so surreal, like an amazing dream she would be sorry to wake up from...a dream come true.
She took a quick look around, being overly careful not to touch or knock anything for fear of breaking something. Everything looked so expensive, more money than she could afford in a lifetime if something was ruined.
"Sit down, make yourself comfy." He pointed to the couch and walked over to the corner bar, where he proceeded to pour himself a stiff drink, a JD and coke with lots of ice.
"Would you like one?" He lifted his glass and watched as Phoebe hovered indecisively where she had been standing.
"Erm, sure, why not? Just give me whatever you're having." He lifted another glass from the shelf, poured in the same mixture that was in his own and walked towards her, trying not to spill a drop.
He sat himself down and motioned for her to join him.
"Sit down, you can't be comfortable standing there like that" He smiled to put her at ease, but that quickly turned to a confused scowl as he watched her situate herself on the cold, bare floor at his feet.
"Phoebe, you can sit up here with me." He patted the sofa cushion to his left hand side, but she didn't budge. Instead she turned bright red, and shook her head from side to side.
"I can't"
"Why not?" He couldn't help but find her behaviour slightly strange but at the same time adorable.
"My clothes are filthy, if I sit on the couch it will get dirty." It didn't seem possible but her face flushed even brighter and she hung her head in shame at having to admit yet again something she found terribly embarrassing.
Her humiliation level had hit its maximum.
"Oh don't worry about that!" He couldn't hide his relief that that's all she was being "weird" about. This was no big deal. Not in his eyes anyway.
He knew she was mortified, and felt partially responsible. He had pushed her, when she should just have left her sitting on the ground where she was happy.
How could he make it better? It didn't take him long to come up with an answer.
"Look!" he waited until he had gotten her attention and tipped his glass 180 degrees, its dark contents complying with the laws of gravity spilled onto the sparklingly clean seat, leaving a huge brown stain, which began to seep and spread at a rapid pace.
She gave a quick, shocked gasp as she watched the event unfold, unbelieving that Joey could be so crazy.
"It's just a chair sweetie...its only material, it washes and it's replaceable." She had to laugh at his extreme measure to make her feel at ease.
She pushed herself up and warily sat next to him, avoiding the wet patch Joey had created with his drink and clasped her hands matronly in front of her, still feeling awkward at possibly messing up this immaculate piece of furniture. But if Joey said it was ok with him, then it was ok with her.
He sat his glass down on the table closest to the seat he was in and rose to his feet.
"Make yourself at home. I badly need a shower! Wash last nights stress away!"
Once he was gone Phoebe began to relax a little bit. She no longer felt like she had to be on guard of every small thing she did. Even breathing felt a little easier with him not watching her.
She knew exactly why she felt so insecure, but was adamant it would never show. Joey would never understand what it was like to feel like a second class citizen...he could relate in the slightest, but this was nice while it lasted.
She turned around to the gigantic glass window pane behind her and eagerly observed the minuscule cars and tiny ant sized people going about there early morning business hundreds of feet below her, in a world that right at that minute seemed so far removed from the one she was used to.
Her mind was distracted for what seemed like an eternity, until a noise that she hadn't heard in years startled her back to reality.
Her head spun around and her eyes rested on the source of the distraction...a modern replica of an old fashioned telephone that was placed in the middle of a small, round glass table.
It continued to ring loudly as she pondered whether to answer it, but the decision was taken out of her hands.
"Phoebe, can you get that?!" Joey's voice echoed from the tiled bathroom amongst the noise of running water and gushing steam.
It had been so long since she had answered a phone, and her stomach churned in anxiety at the prospect of speaking into the plastic invention.
Her hand shook visibly as she picked up the receiver.
"He...hello?!" She heard what sounded like a gasp and the phone line went dead, returning to a dialling tone which she listened to for a second before replacing the receiver into the handset.
"Who was it?" Joey stood behind, his hair wet and his lower body wrapped in a fluffy white towel. His muscularly toned chest was almost a distraction to her, but she composed herself and averted her eyes to a place she deemed appropriate.
"I'm not sure. Whoever it was didn't speak"
"Hmm, must have been a wrong number."
Both shrugged it off and prepared to get some well deserved sleep, but across town the last thing on a certain persons mind was bed.
Rachel slammed the phone down in its cradle and stood staring at it like it would give her answers that she desperately needed to know.
As realisations hit home anger began to bubble in her. She felt like a red hot poker had been speared into her heart and split it in two.
She glanced over at a still very much asleep Monica, who was snoring lightly and grabbed her jacket quietly so as not to wake her friend. She threw it on over the clothes in which she hadn't yet changed out of since the previous night and carefully slipped out of the bedroom door.
Her boyfriend was cheating on her...and she was going to find out who her competition was!