UNPROFESSIONAL UPDATE: Yes, the long-hibernated author emerges, out of the abyss that is writer's block. But, in my defense, for the past two or so weeks, I have not had any Internet connection to speak of. So not my fault.
Aaaand I have a very pretty song that reminds me a lot of Ross and Carol (the guy is arguing with his ex girlfriend about her new girlfriend). It's a very good song, not just because it relates to Friends, so if you want it sent to you, PM me.
THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW: This is set pre-Joey, and Pre-Rachel. After Kip moved out, and before Carol and Ross got divorced/Carol admitted she was a lesbian. Also, this is slightly Alternate Universe, because Chandler doesn't live in the apartment across the hall.
Also, this is a companion to another one of my fics, Yellow Wood, which is from Kip's POV. The title to both that fic and this one are taken from Robert Frost's poem, "The Road Not Taken". You don't have to read 'Yellow Wood' to understand this, but I just like pimping my fics. (Yellow Wood will be updated eventually, for anyone that cares.)
WARNINGS: No one breaks open anyone else's skull with a sledgehammer, but Chandler does have a potty mouth.
DEDICATION: To spacemonkey, because even if it's not Joey/Chandler, it's Chandler, and that should count for something.
There are days when Chandler wakes up and he is fucking freezing. No amount of blankets provide any warmth in the apartment, and wind is blowing in through the chinks in the walls because New York in the winter is cold and windy and makes the city look like complete crap (albeit in a highly bustling fashion), and the glass panes in the loft windows seem to emit cold more than keep out snow, and Chandler can't feel his face.
On these days he gets dressed under the blankets, stalks through the main room of the loft (where Ross is most likely bitching – he's on the "off" again, with Carol, and therefore the bitching is coming from the couch rather than the answering machine) and into the bathroom. He shaves, grabs the sink with both hands, drops his head, and tries not to put a hole in the wall. You went to NYU, for God's sake, he thinks. You went to NYU for a temp job you hate and a studio apartment you can't afford to maintain.
Sometimes he thinks Ross and the rest of his friends are assholes. Kip– who Chandler misses more than he has the words for, though he doesn't dare to say out loud – was dropped by them without a second thought because of his marriage, just because he had the audacity to date Monica, and have it not end in two kids and a house in the suburbs. Monica was the one that dumped Kip (naturally, because how could Kip--hell, anyone-- want to dump Monica?) so it wasn't as if she was the victim or anything. And so what if he got engaged awfully fast afterwards? Being a witness to Ross and Carol's whirlwind romance told Chandler that Ross was a hypocrite- just as sharing an apartment with Kip told Chandler that Kip had never cheated on Monica. If he had, there would have been no grey area- Chandler would have ordered him out of their lives himself.
But as it is, the whole situation bothers Chandler. It bothers Chandler a fucking lot, and not just on these days, because if romance causes friendship to crumble, then how does Chandler still have the amount of friends that he does? By all rights, Chandler should not be speaking to Glenda in the cubicle next to his, or Carol (it had only been one night in college that Ross didn't need to know about. They were lonely and horny and definitely better off as friends.) And if unrequited crushes counted as well, there were a whole additional string of cubicles he couldn't go near, and Monica's apartment for breakfast would no longer be an option.
He knows, in the part of him with room left to be rational, that Kip isolated himself from the group and it really is partly his fault that they turned on him, but didn't he do it to protect himself? Didn't he do it because he was afraid they'd turn on him even if he'd stopped packing boxes long enough to explain properly? But Chandler is still licking his wounds when it comes to Kip, who was his first best friend, after all, and all the logic in the world holds no sway. Sometimes he wants to punch Kip for not trying harder to remain a part of the group and letting his fear rule him. Sometimes he wants to choke Ross and Phoebe and yes, Monica because the fact is, Kip was probably right – they would have spurned him. Mostly he wants to punch himself for not reaching out more and reminding Kip that his old elementary school friend is still his friend.
But he didn't, and that's a hard truth he has to live with. He let Kip slip away, and he did it because he was completely terrified of what everyone would say if he didn't. Would they stop speaking to him as well? It wouldn't be too hard for him to be shifted out of the group. With his low salary, he lives in a studio apartment 15 blocks away from Ross, and over 20 from Monica and Phoebe. And other than Ross when he and Carol are separated, no one ever visits. It's the general consensus that meeting at Monica and Phoebe's, or the small bar downstairs is much more appealing.
Chandler has never lost a best friend before Kip, either. He doesn't relish the feeling (a deep ache in his chest when he unknowingly makes an inside joke that only Kip would have gotten). He doesn't like the knowledge that, when he finally moves into the apartment next to Monica and Phoebe's (unless he gets a large raise soon, it's more of a fantasy than a plan) any attempts Kip might make to get in touch with him would prove unsuccessful. Chandler doesn't even know if the number Kip quietly slipped into his hand will reach him, or if he's moved since then.
Not all morning are like this. Sometimes he wakes up happy, dons a tie with an appropriately garish motif, and kisses whatever lover happened to fall into his bed (by sheer luck, he thinks). Sometimes Chandler is content, looking forward to hearing of Phoebe's wacky escapades and of Monica's new cooking class. Even looking forward to hearing Ross' new plans of how to get Carol in the mood. But he's also not nineteen anymore, and the ideal-driven utopian lifestyle that seemed so appealing then has lost some of its luster. On these days, Chandler thinks that there's nothing cool about being lonely and broke; nothing exciting about desk work.
On these days, Chandler thinks about calling Kip, even if all he gets is a confused voice on the other line, belonging to someone who is a complete stranger. (Even worse, if the stranger is Kip.)
These days are coming faster and harder since Monica started dating Mark, and sometimes Chandler doesn't even bother to try and convince himself that it's a complete coincidence. Because it's not, and on the rare occasions that Chandler is truthful to himself, he can admit that Monica is the real the reason he never stood up for Kip. (Not Ross, who is now his alpha best friend instead of his beta, but only by default, or Phoebe, who only caught the tail end of the Kip era, and who he sometimes suspects doesn't even like him, anyway.)
Sometimes he takes out the photo album (not the family ones he for some reason still keeps, but the one with the memories that really matter) and just stares at the photos, as though they contain the answers to all his questions.
But usually,Chandler stands in the bathroom, head down, until it all passes. He waits for the urge to break something to fade. It usually does. At this point he can lie to Ross' face about how he feels and what he's thinking, and can usually even manage to banter before he leaves. He takes his briefcase, and takes the subway to work, and sits, and waits for something to happen.
Please revieeeeew. It means a lot. )