Guess what? It's Christmas! In...July. LOL, okay. At least in this fic, it's Christmas. Thanks a bunch for the reviews I've gotten from this.
I've been really busy, and I appreciate all your patientce. :) (I sound like a phone operator! lol)
I just have a question. Was the last chapter of Love at First Sight that bad lol? Cause I only got like three reviews...maybe it's cause it was storming and we had a tornado and cause I didn't get to leave one of my charming author's notes. :)
Silence.
Okay, I'll take that as a no, lol...oh well, you win some, you lose some, huh?
Lemme know if this is a winner. :)
December 24th...
Dear Diary,
Merry Christmas...again. This day marks the one year anniversary of our relationship.
Sorry I haven't written in so long; I've been really busy. I think the last time I wrote in you- really wrote in you- was Thanksgiving. God, what an awful day.
But actually, it was a good day in a way. Even if that arrogant jerk Chandler (God WHY do I still like him?!) called me fat...well, somehow it taught me something.
I AM fat. Anyone with eyes can see that. But to tell it to my FACE? Well...kind of. God, talk about sinking to the lowest pillar of humanity! He should be thrown in a pit with writhing snakes and be made to sit there for a day...
But, if it weren't for him, then the most wonderful thing wouldn't have happened to me.
He made me see that something had to be done. I DON'T want to be known as the fat one...I want to BE somebody.
Damnit, I want to be known for more than just how much I weigh or how many blueberry pies I can eat in one sitting!
Ever since then, I've been dieting. Nothing major...just cutting back on, well, a lot. I don't eat much meat anymore. We learned in health class that meat accounts for a lot of fat. One of these days I'll try to stop eating sugar...but I don't know if I can. It's so addictive. But I WILL get thinner, no matter what anyone says. If people start to notice, I'll tell them I began to work out. It'll happen for me, I know it will.
I don't really want anyone to know, because I don't want people to think I cared that much. 20 lbs. is really all I want to lose...I'll still be fat, just not grotesquely so. I'm whale blubber now...I just want to be normal.
So far, I've lost almost seven pounds! I'm not really starving myself or anything, God no. I'm just not eating. So, you see, Diary, it's not that bad. I won't end up like one of those stick figure models...that's not me. I just want people to see beyond what I am now.
You can't really tell I lost any weight yet, but I know it in my heart. And that's all that really matters...for now.
So, I've come to this conclusion: I'll lose some weight, and the next time I see that Chandler Bing (or anyone else for that matter) I'll show him...I'm more than he thinks I am. Who's the fat sister now?
Chandler Bing is a total jackass...with hauntingly blue eyes.
Love,
Monica
My God, he did have hauntingly blue eyes, she thought. Eyes of...of fiery blue icicles. Oxymoron or not, it did fit him.
Skimming her pink comforter splashed with roses, Monica grasped a box of Ritz crackers, feeling quite content with the world.
Plunging her hand into the crumb filled depths of the stout red box, she frowned. "I just brought these up! There's no way I could've eaten them all this soon! Shit, I'm supposed to be on a diet. I can't go around stuffing my face full of crackers!"
She tossed the box down, and it hit the scratchy carpeting with a muted thud.
The aroma of turkey juices drifted into her room, making Monica's mouth water with desire. "No, you can't have any!" she firmly told herself. "No meat is allowed!"
Her new "diet" was about to take a turn that would have rivaled that of the Nazi regime.
----
"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Ye-"
Groaning, Chandler flipped off the TV set, not wanting to hear more songs about love and cheer.
Songs like those were so far off from what he considered reality that he preferred not to dwell on what could have been.
"If I have to hear another Christmas carol, or see another escaped convict running a Santa booth at the mall-"
He was interrupted by his mother, who was clad in a rather inappropriate looking Mrs. Claus suit.
"Mom?" his jaw dropped in disgust.
"Yes, Darling?" Nora crooned to her son, not realizing his reaction.
"What the...what are...why?"
"Sweetie, I didn't catch a word of that. But, I do need your help with something." She pranced over to Chandler, the bells on the bottom of her fishnet stockings jingling as she came. "I couldn't quite zip up my dress, could you help me?" She twirled around.
"Yes, Mom," Chandler shook his head. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, just this party. You know, with people."
"Yeah, I kind of figured..." His mother was brilliant at stating the obvious.
"So, I take it you're not going to be spending Christmas Eve here?"
Nora felt her face flush; her son was home from college and they were supposed to spend Christmas together.
"Sweetie...I'm so sorry. Things like this just come up, and well, I need the publicity. It's been almost a year since I published a novel, and if I don't get out there, then my career is as good as gone." In an elegant gesture, she waved her hand around their lavish living room. "And I know we'd miss this life if it was gone, now wouldn't we? I hope you'll understand."
"Yeah. It's not like I was looking forward to it or anything." His heart sunk.
"Good," she commented, suddenly brisk. "Well, I'll be home later, probably past midnight. I'm sure there'll be something delicious in the fridge if you look around. Maybe the cook will have prepared a turkey."
With the swish of her red dress, she was gone.
Maybe if she'd been around, Nora would've known that Chandler despised turkey.
Maybe if she'd been around, Nora would've known that Chandler spent all day cooking a meal for them- macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs.
Maybe if she'd been around, Nora would've seen the hurt in her son's eyes when she left him alone.
Maybe she'd been there before, but Chandler would never know.
----
"Monica, why don't you have some more turkey?" asked Judy Geller as they all sat down to a Christmas feast.
This was it, the first questions began. "Well, I just ate a bunch of snacks up in my...my room. And I just think I'd be full if I put more on my plate."
There. It hadn't been smooth, and it hadn't been completely true, but it worked.
"Sweetie, you should have saved up and not eaten all day for this meal!" Jack Geller joked. "It's delicious!"
'Hmmm...not eating all day. That wasn't a bad idea', thought Monica. 'Maybe I should listen to my dad more often.'
However interested she was in Monica's eating habits, Judy turned her attention towards her pride and joy. "So, Ross, how's school?"
"It's going great! I've got straight A's...you know, the usual."
"Yes, we do son," beamed Jack as Ross spooned a small mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Watching him pour a river of gravy across the mountain, Monica got a sudden craving. Ross noticed her eyeing his plate. "Mon, do you want some of these? You hardly have anything on your plate. That must have been some snack you had earlier," he chided.
"No, I'm fine." 'Yeah, right. The day I'm fine is the day the world spins backwards.'
Silence proceeded their talking for several minutes. It wasn't until desert that the phone's shrill ringing interrupted their dinner.
"I'll get it," mumbled Monica, who eased out of her chair and picked up the phone, twirling the cord around her pinky finger.
"Hello?" came the voice from the other line. Whoever it was, wasn't in the Christmas spirit. 'Perfect,' she thought.
"Hello, Geller residence, who is this?"
"Uh...Chandler Bing."
It was him. He, who's cruel words made her change her life. He, who she had looked up to for a whole night as the first guy who ever talked to her for more than a minute. He, who was...Still waiting for a response!
"Um, this is Monica. Would you like to talk to Ross?"
"Sure..." his voice trailed off into the distance.
Monica beckoned Ross as she whispered who was calling on the night when everyone is with their families.
"Chandler?" Ross asked, confused.
"Yeah, hey man. What're you doing?"
Ross looked around. "Uh, eating dinner with my family. What are you doing?"
Chandler glanced down at his lone plate of macaroni and cheese. It was all stuck in one clump, and ice cold. "Oh, just eating my gourmet pasta. Alone."
"Dude, you're alone?"
"Yeah, my mom went to some party thing. She'll be back later."
"But it's Christmas! And you have...no one?"
"Hey, I'm nineteen. I'll live. Welcome to the real world, huh?" Chandler stabbed an attempt at humor, but couldn't shake the feeling of unwant that ate him up inside.
"Well, if you want...I guess you could come over here. We have some food left; turkey, if you want some."
"No thanks. I hate turkey." Why didn't anyone remember this? Was he this invisible?
"Okay, well you can come over for some company if you want to. It's just my parents and Monica and me. But I'm sure that's better than no one."
"Yeah. Alright, I'll be right over."
Chandler set the phone to rest in its cradle and headed out the door, not even bothering with a coat.
As he started up the engine of his car, he noted to himself that all the other houses on his block were illuminated by soft-toned Christmas lights, and musical laughter rang from their icy windowpanes.
And from his house?
Nothing.
It was dark...and it was cold.
It was a house.
But not a home.
----
Snow fell across the twilight. Night was approaching, quicker than ever before. Silent tears fell on his dashboard as he sat on the side of the road in front of the Geller household.
As the flakes drifted sullenly across the street, Chandler pounded angrily on the steering wheel. "WHY? WHY did I even come home? She left...I'm stuck with strangers again for the holidays. I may as well not exist..."
His eyes followed a single snowflake make its descend from the Heavens to the roof of his car. It drifted slowly down, unaffected by the billowing winds that hinted of a blizzard. When it reached the hood of his car, it froze over and served as the resting spot for all snowflakes before, and all that were yet to come.
Sighing, Chandler stepped out of his car and wiped the pooling tears from his baby blues as if they had never existed.
He almost wished he hadn't.
----
"So, Chandler, Ross tells us your band has been quite successful," commented Judy.
Chandler forced the expected smile. "Well, if you count playing for more than three events around campus, then I think you heard him right."
The Gellers and Chandler sat contently around their warm hearth as Jack Geller prepared a fire.
Lights from the Christmas tree twinkled merrily, their patterns varying to resemble angels and other Christmas deities.
Chandler loved it.
He wouldn't admit it to himself, of course, but his real self- the side that he suppressed for most of his life- thought it was an amazing tree. It stood almost ten feet tall, and had so many ornaments on it that he got dizzy as he tried counting.
Looking closer, he noticed that many of the ornaments were homemade...none of the ornaments on his tree were homemade.
Hell, nothing in his house was homemade.
Hours later, when the fire was slowly dying off into swirling smoke patterns, Mr. and Mrs. Geller found it appropriate to retire.
"Well, I think we're off to bed. You kids take care, and don't stay up too late, okay?" winked Jack.
"Chandler, dear, do you think that you ought to call your mother and let her know you're here?" Judy asked, her eyes full of concern for the poor boy who had not once, but twice, been dropped on her doorstep to spend the holidays with them.
"No, she probably won't even recognize that I'm gone," he whispered, not meaning for anyone to hear.
Ross yawned loudly as his parents ascended their staircase wrapped in holly. "Dude, I think I gotta go upstairs, too. I'm about ready to pass out down here."
"Alright, that's cool. I think I'll just sit out here and wait for the fire to completely go out."
"Okay, but are you going to be okay down here by yourself?"
'I'm here!' Monica wanted to scream, but she was sitting in the shadows, and preferred to just let his mistake go unheard.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Outside, a sliver of crescent moon was glowing, casting a sheer blue-ish light across the white plains of snow. The streets were covered; it would be impossible to drive through it now.
Monica sighed noiselessly, hoping Chandler didn't know she was watching him. She loved the way the shadows played with his profile, making him appear closer than he really was.
The last glowing embers melted into the smoke, and the room gave way to utter darkness.
On both sides of the room, two lost souls gave in to their pain. One wanted to be what everyone else was. The other wanted to have what everyone else had.
"I hate this Christmas...I hate this world...I hate this life," Chandler bitterly whispered soft enough for no one to catch his fleeting words but the one who felt as much pain as he.
"I know," Monica responded silently. "Me too."
----
Okay, tell me what you think. :)
Oh, and here's a question that I really want an answer to. How much do you guys think Monica weighs? I really don't know, any guesses? Because I'll need that info for later on...when she becomes obsessive about it and everything. I'm afraid that if I tried to wager a guess that I'd be completely off and mess up the fic totally. So, any guesses?
Please tell me if you liked the chapter! I will update it soon...the more reviews, the better, lol. :D
Mel