I bet you all thought I'd never update this.

Well, guess what? I did!

Here is chapter six of Beautiful. Please, please, please, please send me some feedback on this. It would REALLY help me move this one along.

I understand that Monica lost a lot of weight in four months, but I think it is possible, especially with the way she's doing it. Let me know if anything seems unrealistic.

Thanks for all the review on the other fics. Not many people seem to like "To be with you", though, so I'm hesitant as to whether or not write a third chapter. -shrugs- You all let me know. :)

Enjoy, and once again, sorry for the delay.

-Beauty is only skin deep-

Dear Diary,

180. That's right. Read those numbers carefully, because they're dropping! Forty pounds in four months...I don't ever think I've been so proud of myself!

Sure, I'm not the skinniest little thing ever, but hey, who cares?

Whoever said that the little fat girl couldn't do anything?

I'm happier now, and I know why. I'm not so huge anymore; there's actually girls my size. People talk to me in the hallways sometimes...I'm not the social recluse that I once was. And all of this happened in four months.

It's not like 180lbs is skinny or anything. Actually, to be honest, I want to drop like forty more pounds. I just don't want people getting suspicious.

"Oh, Monica, your new diet is marvelous!"

So they think I've become a vegetarian. Let them think what they want, I'm not pouring out of my clothing anymore. I can actually go to the store and buy things!

I know my ways of losing weight aren't exactly...ethical. But humans are far too greedy anyway...we eat our fill and then some. As long as I eat, I'm okay. If the food stays with me, fine. If I have to make a "trip" to the bathroom...well, it's not like I enjoy it or anything. But for once, I've felt happy. For once, I feel like I can finally walk down the hallway without feeling like I'm going to collapse under my own weight.

I'm going to a party tonight...a college party. Rachel and me are going. I think she's wondering how I've lost so much weight in so little time. I don't know if I should tell her, though. What if she thinks it's wrong?

-Mon

With a smile, she closed her diary, locked it with the key, and slid it underneath her mattress for safekeeping. They were her thoughts, her secrets, her life...the last thing she needed was for someone to find them out.

From across her room, the mirror glared at her, daring her to move. For the past seventeen years, mirrors had not been her friend. With a fleeting glance, she would look into them, shake her head in dismay, and find something else to do.

Now, however, things were different.

Smiling, she twirled around in a circle, letting her arms sail through the air of her pink haven. She laughed and flopped down on her rug, enjoying the softer sound her body made as it hit the floor.

Her world spun around her, she was only slightly dizzy. But that wasn't anything new. In fact, ever since her new "diet" had commenced, dizziness had seemed to be a common denominator in each day. But this, she could deal with. The weight was something with which she couldn't deal.

"Monica!" came her mother's cries from the first floor. "Rachel's here!"

"Send her up!"

Ever since Monica had been dropping weight, her parents seemed to take notice. Suddenly, she wasn't the fat daughter that had average grades, average talents, and average worth. The less she ate, the more she became. After all, less was more.

Wasn't it?

"Hey, Mon." Rachel flounced into the room, tossing her blue-jean jacket on Monica's bed.

"Hey," Monica replied, immediately envious of her best friends looks.

This was Monica's problem: The better she seemed to look, Rachel was able to top that a hundred times over.

"So, are you ready for the party tonight?" Rachel sat down next to her as both girls looked in the mirror.

"Yeah, I guess so. I don't really have much to wear." She glumly looked down at her perfectly acceptable choice of new pants a sweater with a new necklace to match. The outfit had taken her hours to pick out, but she would never reveal this to Rachel. Rachel had probably gotten ready in less than ten minutes, and looked better than she ever could.

"What do you mean you don't have anything to wear? You look great!"

"I don't know...I just feel like...fat."

"Fat, Mon?" Rachel shook her head, not knowing what to say to her best friend. It was true, by normal standards Monica would be considered "fat". But by judging her before weight to the size she was now, Monica looked great. "You look great."

Monica got up in a huff. "Well, Rach, I don't feel great. Do you ever wonder what it's like to be compared to you all the time?" She walked across the room and mimicked what she believed to be the majority of the student population. "Psst. Here comes Rachel Green...Oh, and her fat friend is behind her."

Rachel flushed a deep red. "People...people don't say...that."

"Sure they do! You think people don't wonder why we're friends? The skinny super-model and the cow?"

Tears stung Rachel's eyes. "First of all, Mon, you look beautiful. You're skinnier than you were before, and we both know that. Just whatever diet you're on, keep it up. It seems to be working great."

If only she knew.

"Second of all, I'm not friends with you because of what you look like. I'm friends with you because of who you are." She walked over to Monica and put her arm around her. They both stared down at the ground from the perch of her bed, absorbing the words.

"Thanks, Rach."

"You know I'm not just saying that."

"I know." But did she?

Rachel squeezed Monica's hand and patted her on the knee before getting up and examining her reflection in the mirror. If only Monica knew how she felt about herself...maybe the jealousy wouldn't rage through her like a sickness.

"Now let's go have some fun. This is supposed to be a huge party, everyone's going. It'll be great."

Who needed a party anymore? There would be food there... "I dunno, Rach. Maybe I should just stay here."

"What? No, you have to come! I need you!"

"All right," she gave in. "Whose party is this, anyway?"

Rachel's face lit up. "Joey Tribbiani's."

"Who?"

"Only the hottest guy ever to walk the face of the earth! He's in college right now, but he's friends with Amy"

"Oh, bubble gum girl!"

"Hey, she's my friend!"

Monica laughed. "Well, Joey may want to pick his friends better."

"Relax, he's friends with Amy's boyfriend. Anyway, they're both coming in for the weekend and throwing a huge party."

"Sounds fun. This Joey guy...Is he good looking?"

"Mon, seriously. The guy is like straight out of those Calvin Klein ads. Tall, dark, and handsome."

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Who knows?" Once again, she checked her reflection before scrunching her nose in dismay and grabbing her jacket. "C'mon, Mon. Let's go."

In the mirror they looked, and in the mirror, they were trapped. The perfect girl that epitomized beauty, the beautiful one who felt she was ugly.

The mirror watched on as the two walked out the door, not realizing that soon their lives would change forever. "Careful," it seemed to plead beyond the reflective glass. "Those who look in me too long shall always find something wrong."

----

Chandler hated it when everyone assumed he was superficial. Sure, he didn't exactly put himself out there and claim to seek beauty on the inside first, but looks weren't everything.

Just last night, he had been on a date. The girl was average looking, short, blond hair, green eyes. An effervescent personality, he noted, but how much talking can one take?

He wanted a girl. No, he wanted a friend. A girl that was a friend. A girlfriend. Wasn't that where the word came from, anyway? It's not like they had to be best friends to date, but knowing her first might be nice.

He felt like the only one without someone. Hell, even Ross had someone now. Julie was her name, and she was a perfectly sweet girl, aspiring to become a paleontologist like himself.

Was it too much to ask for another person to spend some time with, share some secrets with, maybe kiss goodnight?

Drumming his fingers on his philosophy book, Chandler glanced at the dingy mirror hanging over his bed. Hollow blue eyes darted back at him, watching every move.

"Oh my God. Is that really me?"

He quickly averted his eyes and decided not to think about the lost face of the man- no, boy, man was too strong a word- that pleaded back at him.

"Hey, man," Ross strode in the room, Julie following closely behind. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" he sat up.

"Uh...to par-tay!"

"What?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear? Me, you, and Julie are driving back to Long Island tonight. Do you know Joey Tribbiani?"

Chandler nodded, Joey was in his philosophy class.

"Well, he's having this big party back there. He's friends with Gandolf, whose girlfriend is this girl Amy, I think her name was, and she goes to school there. So everyone's going, are you in?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Why not?" Julie stepped in, brushing a lock of black hair from her face. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"I really don't know if I feel like partying. I mean....I went out last night."

"On another failed date, man." Ross stressed. "Let's get out and have some fun. You're so uptight."

Uptight? Ross was calling him uptight? This was not like it used to be. "All right. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes."

"Cool," Ross said as he and Julie walked out the door. "Maybe you'll find some girl you can hook up with there." He winked and left.

"Yeah, but that's not what I want, Ross!" Chandler muttered as he searched through piles of clothes.

He was a lost soul, rummaging around a pile of clothes that he hated, watching his friend enjoy happiness that he was deprived of for his entire life, and trying to find an answer to the question of life.

Before leaving he checked his reflection in the mirror. What, did he expect something to change in the past five minutes? Maybe the empty look in his eyes would be replaced by something happy.

He looked out the window at Ross and Julie who were pressed up against his old car, kissing. The mirror seemed to laugh at him. "All that he's got is everything you don't have!"

Angered, he threw his philosophy book at the teasing glass. His face stared at him from all different angles in the shattered glass.

Chandler grabbed his coat and shut the door behind him, not wanting to pick up the broken pieces.

----

Please send me a review. Thanks, and I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I'm still having a writer's block with this one, so any ideas are welcome. ( I do have a general idea of what I'd like to do, though.)

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone, if the likely chanceoccurs that I won't update until after then.

See ya!

Mel