Everything You Want
The door to apartment twenty opened abruptly and Monica's head lifted up from the kitchen table as she looked to see who was entering her home unannounced. She brushed a finger under her eye trying to conceal the tears that had been threatening to roll down her cheek. She was still trying to figure out if these were tears of joy or frustration before she was interrupted by her uninvited guest, but Monica put those thoughts on hold as she flashed an obviously insincere smile at Chandler.
Chandler stopped in his tracks and his own impish smirk faded into a more tender look of concern. He recognized most of Monica's moods, and he could tell she was troubled by something. Usually they were demons of her own accord, deficiencies about herself that she created whole cloth from thin air and only she could see. Which led her to criticize every decision and every choice she has made as she tried to figure out exactly how to blame herself for whatever it was that was bringing her down. A habit he understood completely and could relate to quite well.
"Hey. What's going on?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing."
Monica stood up quickly and spun around to face the refrigerator. She opened the freezer and shifted a few items around until her fingers grasped the cold, icy container of chocolate ice cream she had hidden in the back for just such an emergency.
Chandler stood there, nonplussed. "Nothing? Sitting alone in the dark. No TV on. Crying. Eating ice cream. That doesn't seem like nothing."
Chandler leaned back against the kitchen counter and slid a hand into his pocket. Monica couldn't help but chuckle at his quick assessment of her current mood. She looked down and shook her head as a slight grin stretched across her mouth. She popped off the top of the pint of ice cream and stuck her spoon into it.
"Oh, I'm just being silly."
She let her eyes lift up from the container of ice cream and she took him in for a moment. He looked good for ten o'clock on a Thursday night, even if a bit overdressed. Khaki pants. Crisp blue button-down shirt that, if she were being critical, appeared a little baggy on him, thanks to the weight he had lost when they worked out together a few weeks ago. He wore a sharp, dark blue sweater vest and there was not a wrinkled or a piece of lint in sight. Sure, he was dressed a little too preppie for a quick visit across the hall, but she liked that about him. That he could work all day in a shirt and tie and resist the urge to change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt the minute he got home. There was an effort he put into the outfits he wore that she was not even sure he was aware of. Some unconscious routine of his. And that lack of self-awareness in his appearance was an attractive quality to find in a man. Much better than the ones who know they look good and strut around like perfumed peacocks.
On nights like this, when he would show up looking sharp, it reminded Monica, that Chandler had a real job out there in the real world where he needed to look professional. Present himself with authority to the office and cubicle dwellers that existed outside of this little apartment building where they lived. It was a part of his life that she knew very little about, which was odd for her, since there were so many other intimate details about this man that she was acutely familiar with. Some of those details she wished she didn't know.
"I like silly."
Chandler walked around the table and reached inside the refrigerator, snatching a bottle of water and twisting the cap off as he closed the door in one deft movement. There was an odd aura of confidence he exuded as he leaned back against the counter. He could display the agility of someone who, perhaps, could have been an athlete. Nothing too crazy. Tennis or golf perhaps. His movements were smooth and fluid and not filled with so many of the nervous tics she was used to seeing him exhibit through the years. Not lately though. Over the last few months it seemed as if Chandler was not as stuck inside his own head as he used to be. Something she noticed shortly after Heckles died and Chandler had his mini-breakdown over ending up alone. Something clicked inside him, and ever since then, he less resembled that stagnant adolescent personality stuck in a man's body.
Now, he almost seemed to be everything Monica wanted to be herself. He had a good job. Money. A bit of confidence. He looked good on a regular basis. He dressed well. Hell, he has even been on a few dates. Which was a few more than Monica had been on this year. It all would have been incredibly frustrating if it were anybody else. If it was someone who lived a charmed life that made Monica green with envy, but thankfully, he was Chandler. So, even with all of these strides he has made, he still had his moments that brought him back down to earth.
Monica shook her head and huffed. "I'm just emotional. I'm all over the place. I'm unemployed. The old video tapes. Ross and Rachel."
Chandler pulled out a chair and sat down. "Isn't Ross and Rachel a good thing?"
Monica nodded and was even able to smile sincerely at the idea of a romance blossoming between her best friend and her brother. "Yeah. It is."
"So, good things and bad thing make you cry." Chandler paused as he took a sip of his water. "I will never understand women."
Monica tilted her head and reluctantly nodded as she agreed with his assessment.
Chandler leaned back and a slight yet gentle smile snuck its way across his lips. "It is a good thing. I'm happy for him. Uh. Them."
Monica nodded and then that feeling in the pit of her stomach churned once again. The one that made her envious of how easy everything seemed to work out for everyone else around her. Her brother. Rachel. Even Joey and Phoebe seemed to float along this synchronicity highway that just provided for them whenever they needed something. Meanwhile she had to toil out her own path. Dig up the wild brush and pave her own road. One littered with potholes.
"It is a little crazy." She hated herself a bit for already trying to scuff the shine of Ross and Rachel, especially on the same night that the now infamous prom video brought them together, but she couldn't help herself.
To her surprise, Chandler jumped forward in his chair, gesturing his own shock at the turn of events they witnessed here just a few hours ago. "I know!"
Monica, feeling emboldened by his reaction, bite down once more on that delicious spite. "It's crazy!"
"Wild."
"Romantic." She nodded, reluctantly, and had to give Ross and Rachel some credit.
"It took a really long time."
Monica chuckled and lifted her eyebrows. "Since the ninth grade."
"Kind of pathetic."
Yeah. But, also kind of sweet."
Chandler laughed once more and took another swig from the water bottle. "So, are they dating now?"
"I don't know, did he say anything to you?"
"No. Joey and I couldn't separate them all night. And now they're out for a walk."
Monica allowed herself a moment to swoon at the thought. "Oh, those are nice. Long, romantic walks in the city. All those little discreet touches where you don't know if they'll let you hold their hand as you spend all night talking and getting to know each other."
Chandler looked off to the side and blinked sarcastically. "Well, I think," he paused for effect, as if he were seriously contemplating what he was going to say next. "I think that they might have already met."
Monica shook her head at him and smirked.
"So, is this why you're all…weepy?"
"I don't know. That. No job. No money. No boyfriend. I guess I'm feeling kind of drained by everything."
Chandler nodded and looked at his feet. "Oh."
Monica squeezed his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. "But, it's nothing. It'll pass. Like I said, I'm just being silly."
Chandler nodded again as he returned her smile. He placed his hand on hers and they let the moment linger as the two of them relished in the physical contact of another person.
Monica straightened up and then wrinkled her brow. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I needed a break from this." Chandler reached into his sleeve and unclasped the garish gold bracelet that had become an albatross around his neck. He slapped it down onto the table. "If I take it off for a second over at my place, Joey loses his mind."
Monica could not help but laugh as she reached over to touch the bracelet with her fingers. Wondering if it felt as cheap as it looked.
"I'm never going to sleep with a woman again."
Monica chuckled again as she continued to finger the large, gaudy piece of jewelry. She then glanced up at Chandler. His clean-shaven face that perfectly mixed his boyish charm with his masculinity. His blue eyes that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight that danced into the kitchen from the window over the sink. His neat and no doubt recently cut hair that seemed to be the perfect style to complement his good looks. She didn't think he would have trouble. At least, as long as he learned to keep his mouth shut once in a while.
In moments like this, Monica could recall exactly what it was like when she first met Chandler. The older college boy she had that fleeting crush on as he showed up to her house with her brother on Thanksgiving. Even his ridiculous Flock of Seagulls hair and his tacky 80s outfit couldn't blot out the temporary infatuation she experienced. Because behind his terrible fashion sense was the same, sexy smile and those twinkling blue eyes that he was still capable of flaunting today. And even though he is much more handsome now, she was glad that she was able to move past all of that, because if something did happen that night, then she might have missed out on all of this, and instead of being one of her best friends, he would have just been an anecdote. One of those early, awkward horror stories about boys that she would have buried in the back of her mind with the other forgettable targets of teenage puppy love.
He smiled at her as she studied him, and she felt as if perhaps, somehow, he knew she was complimenting him with her thoughts. That he knew exactly what was flashing through her mind just by the look on her face. And she knew that suspicion to be true, because she could definitely read his mind as well. Especially as his sly and most charming of smiles began to appear on his lips. She decided it better to hold her tongue about the more flattering aspects of her thoughts on him, since she did not want his head to get too big for his shoulders. She knew that even the slightest of positive remarks would swell that ego of his and then he would no doubt let loose with something obnoxious, so she looked back down at his bracelet.
"No. Probably not. But, I bet you could go to Staten Island and no one would bat an eye. You could probably even borrow one of Joey's track suits." She chuckled at the image of him that she constructed in her head.
"Ha, ha." He flashed her a flat, unamused smile as she could see his pride deflate. "Maybe I can get mugged and someone will steal it."
"I'll do it. Then I can pawn it for rent money."
Instead of playing along, Chandler's face grew still and the concern flashed across his eyes again like it had when he first stumbled on Monica and her sullen mood. "Wow. Is it really that bad? Is money that tight right now?"
"Well, Ross covered me for a few weeks, but if I don't find some work soon, I might have to sell some stuff. Or some organs. What do you think I can get for a good spleen?"
Chandler chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sure you'll find something."
Monica stood up and paced to the sink. The frustration bubbling over so quickly it nearly took her by surprise. "When? It has been months. And the best opportunity I had was from Chateau de Creep."
Chandler couldn't help but laugh, recalling the story she told him of the lascivious restaurant owner and his salad kink.
"Yeah, and even if you took that job, everything you made there would just go towards soap and loofahs."
Monica laughed despite herself and dropped her spoon in the sink. Chandler got up and walked into the livingroom. She put her ice cream back in the freezer and watched him as he settled down on the couch. He placed his water bottle on top of a coaster on the coffee table. She felt a flash of pride swell in her heart as she basked in that small triumph. At least one of her friends was now properly trained.
He started to struggle until he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it up. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it up in her direction. "Why don't you take this."
Monica walked around to the back of the couch and pulled the paper from between his fingers. She was hesitant in her motions as confusion washed over her face.
"What is this?"
"A check I got from Joey earlier this week."
Monica opened it up and gasped a little and then shook her head. "I can't take this."
"Why not?"
"It's too much."
Chandler leaned back and looked up at her. He placed his hand on the back of the couch and Monica instinctively placed hers on top of his. She leaned down a bit so they were close.
"Mon, seriously, take it. You need it more than I do. Besides, Joey is a big-time soap opera star now. He can afford it. I'll just get more from him. It's about time we started mooching off of him for a change anyway."
Monica shook her head, smiled and laughed. "This would really help me."
"So take it."
Monica leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek as a thank you. She then folded the check and slipped it into her pocket.
"Do you want a snack? I've got some chips."
"Sure."
Monica pulled a bowl from the cabinet above the kitchen counter and grabbed a bag of chips from the top of the fridge. As she poured some chips into the bowl, she thought about the swirl of emotions she had been feeling tonight. The joy at watching Ross and Rachel finally get together. The sting of knowing it was not her who was kissing a man up against her apartment door. The constant fear she felt about her dwindling bank account. The uncertainty over her unemployment. It had all come on her so fast, and now, it was gone.
She looked back over at Chandler as he turned on the television and began to flip through the channels and she smiled. No, she did not have a job, and money was tight, and her romantic life was in the toilet. But for now she had him. She had his friendship. And how that made her feel sometimes dwarfed everything else that was wrong in her life. And moments like this, where she felt as if she were drowning in a sea of tumultuous mood swings, this was what she needed to right the ship.
"Hey, Monica! Come quick! You have to see this."
Monica made her way over to the couch to join Chandler and allowed herself one last fleeting thought about how, perhaps, it might have been fun to act on her initial high school/young girl crush on the handsome older boy who came into her life all those years ago. But she dismissed dwelling on that notion, knowing it was just her way of distracting herself from how she was feeling. And this stroll down memory lane was no doubt just an unintended side effect. Something that would happen to her when she got emotional like this. How this rollercoaster ride could make her feel lonely, depressed, and sometimes even a little horny. And at times when she felt like this, her mind rolling a mile a minute, up and down the peaks and valleys of her psyche, she would find it useful to distract herself with other, more pleasant emotions. And to spend some time and reminisce about that first day she met Chandler allowed her to tangentially revisit some of those gratifying feelings she experienced as a teenage girl, even if just for a moment.
"You have to see the size of the breasts on this woman on TV."
Monica stood up straight and glared at him until he noticed her. He gave her a sheepish smile and sunk down into his shoulders like a turtle.
"Oh wait, you're not Joey."
Monica rolled her eyes and shook her head as she plopped the bowl over his shoulder and onto his lap with a thud, causing him to wince. She circled around and sat down on the big comfy chair, throwing her leg over the arm with an exasperated huff.
"You're an idiot."
She turned her attention to the television and laughed a little to herself. Perhaps she was giving Chandler too much credit earlier. Because he was an idiot. But thanks to the choices that she had made, and even the ones she had not made, he was still here. He was her friend. And he was her idiot. And she would take that over any superficial anecdote about a boy she once knew and had a fleeting crush on any day.
