A/N- This chapter picks up pretty soon after the last left off. It is much more dialogue based. We're getting into the nitty gritty of Monica's problems now. I'm not a psychologist though so please excuse me if this chapter isn't the best.

Chandler was still listening to poor Kate chatter on. Currently she was discussing her co-workers love life, attempting to fill Chandler in on the gossip. She'd just finished telling him what sports teams the office workers support. Chandler was desperate for a way out. He knew he should be grateful for Kate's effort to help him fit in but he could not get Monica out of his mind.

"Excuse me," Chandler apologised to Kate as he answered his phone, struggling to hide his relief at the forced pause in the conversation.

"H-hello? Chandler? I er got your number from work. Erm are you free to meet up? It's, it's Monica by the way." Chandler's expression changed from relief to ecstasy.

"Hi," he managed to say through his happiness. "Hi, yes, yes that would be great. Where?" Monica couldn't believe her luck; she was convinced she'd blown it.
"Anywhere!" she joked, her happiness shining through as a rare smile graced her face. Chandler laughed appreciatively; he knew where he'd take her.

"Meet outside the office in 30mins?"

"Great! Thanks!" Monica put the phone down and stood silently for a few moments her grin widening. She was overcome with an unfamiliar emotion- happiness.

XXX

Monica giggled, half with excitement and half with nerves, as Chandler led her to their date, his hands covering her eyes. Monica heard a door open and felt a sudden rush of cold air hit her. "Open your eyes." Chandler laughed. Monica looked out on a beautiful scene. She looked down and her gorgeous eyes met an equally gorgeous sight. Little lights twinkled all over, washing a golden glow on to the range of exquisite colours before her eyes. Monica was watching New York at night from the roof of Chandler's building. Suddenly the city, which was so huge and so intimidating and so hectic, was a haven. The light was no longer harsh, but romantic and for the first time ever Monica truly appreciated how wonderful New York was.

"Wow" she remarked quietly, gazing up at Chandler who had wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. "Chandler, I think I owe you an apology. Before I just panicked that's all. I don't usually, I mean I've never…" Chandler put his finger to her lips and smiled.

"It's OK."

"No, No it's not OK. It's never been OK," she paused and took a deep breath, "I'm going to do this," she said matter of factly with a steely determination that Chandler found endearing. Monica was stunned with herself but immensely proud, here she was sat in front of the most wonderful looking man about to open her heart to him. She realised she barely knew him but there was something about those eyes that told her she could trust him.

"I'm listening."

"I don't know what it is exactly, not really but I'm terrified of people. I can't hold a conversation; I can't smile without blushing either. I don't know whether that's why I don't have any friends or whether it's because no-one's ever taken any interest in me that I'm like that," Monica shrugged sadly, "It's a vicious circle either way though. I can't let anyone in because, because I've never met any one who wanted to know me."

"I can't imagine why," Chandler said honestly without a hint of his usual sarcasm, "I mean you're beautiful, you're sweet. Why wouldn't people want to know you?"

"I don't know. I don't but no one ever has. When I was a kid no one wanted to play with me, when I was at high school other students hated being partnered up with me. I didn't go to university because I wouldn't have fitted in and I couldn't stand the thought of being alone when everyone would be out partying and stuff." A few tears strayed from her lonely eyes but Monica swiftly wiped them away before they could stain her porcelain face.

"It's OK to cry, you know." Chandler said and then did a double take. Since when did he cry, he simply didn't. Perhaps him and Monica had more in common than he'd ever imagined.

"I just don't." she said. "I haven't cried since I was a kid, my mother always frowned on it, said it was a sign of weakness." At that statement something clicked in Chandler.

"Your parents?" he asked gently, "Did they put a lot of pressure on you?"

Monica sighed. "You're good," she remarked gratefully prompting a smile from Chandler. "Nothing was ever good enough for them. I would try and try and try but it would just never work. My grades weren't high enough and my appearance wasn't good enough. I would get told off for not talking to their guests but then told my conversation wasn't good enough if I did." She allowed herself to laugh a little at the irony. Chandler took her sweaty palm in his and traced it slowly with his finger,

"Do you think that your parents crushed all your confidence, Mon?" Chandler ventured. "I mean, it's possible surely that the reason your alone is because you built up walls around you, walls that you built because your parents convinced you that you were a failure?"

"Quite the psychologist aren't you!" Monica joked, smiling gratefully. Chandler could see that she was beginning to relax. He put an arm round Monica as she continued. "Look at this city," she began, "It's huge. There are so many people out there. So many people, how do I know that I'm talking to a nice one and then I'm just one person amongst thousands and thousands, why should they bother talking to me?"

"You're not answering the question, darling."

"My parents are the only people who ever speak to me, even if it's just to put me down. I can't admit that they're my problem, I can't."

"You just did, sweetheart." Chandler was getting a much clearer picture now. It was clear as the street lights below him that Monica was a victim of her parents' failings. "It strikes me, Mon that your parents are the people with a problem. They created such a beautiful daughter and then abused her. I don't know your parents sweetie but it seems to me that they're taking their own failings out on you and in the process they're causing you unnecessary pain. You're the victim Monica, not the culprit. They've made you believe that you're worthless when it's simply not true. Nobody is." Chandler stopped suddenly. His words had struck a chord within Monica but she was not alone. Chandler had just expressed anger that he'd never allowed to surface before.

"You're right of course you are. How are you guessing all this? It's just that it's too late."

"It's never too late," he paused, " and I'm not guessing. I'm speaking from experience. Turns out you're not the only one in denial."

A/N- What's Chandler talking about?? Next chapter will deal with Chandler's problems but I'm going to try to make it a little more to the point than this one.

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