"No way! Paul the Wine guy?!"
Phoebe's voice carried well over the other chatter in the bistro. With the old bar being converted into a coffee house for the past few months, the gang was forced to find a new place to hang out and apparently Phoebe hadn't gotten used to the change in speaking levels just yet. Or she was just that excited about the hunky guy Monica worked with. Chandler sat across the table from Phoebe, giving his blonde friend a look of confusion.
"Phoebe," Monica scolded their friend; her cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. "Say it a little louder I don't think the homeless people in Central Park heard you."
"Well I'm sorry but he is cute." Phoebe offered an apologetic look that was lined with her usual innocence, pressing her lips together tightly.
"I know!" Monica reached a hand across the table and cusped Phoebe's in her own as they gushed over Paul the Wine Guy, whom Chandler had only, until now, heard of in passing. "But," Monica continued, giving the blonde a warning look. "It's not even, like, a date. So I don't want to get ahead of myself."
The word date seemed to leave a bad taste in Chandler's mouth and he fought the scowl that threatened to spread across his face. He wasn't going to deny himself the fact that he was jealous; that seemed trivial, especially after he'd finally come to terms with knowing the night with Monica those few months earlier had meant much more to him than her.
And yet while Monica went on telling Phoebe wonderful things about a man Chandler had never even met, he found himself working against the aching to leave and remove himself from the conversation completely. They had an image to maintain though; he had promised Monica things wouldn't be weird and he owed her that much to keep himself composed. After all, it was just a date, even if Monica assured them it wasn't.
"Hey guys," Joey interrupted as he entered the bistro. Thankful to have his roommate, and friend for that matter, now at the table, he hoped the topic would drop. "Sorry, it took me like, ten minutes to find this place. It's kind of tucked away, huh?"
"It's right down the street from the bar, Joe," Chandler stated with little kindness. Feeling guilty for the sour reply, he tapped the seat next to him at the table. "You haven't talked to Ross have you, man?" Joey shook his head.
"He's probably still at his place packing things up," Monica suggested with a solemn expression. Through his own worries, Chandler had completely forgotten about Ross and his marriage, or soon enough, the lack thereof one. For as much as his friend's misfortune sucked, it acted as the perfect getaway for Chandler.
"I'm gonna go check on him," Chandler explained as he got to his feet and threw on his jacket.
"I just got here," Joey complained, looking at his friend in disbelief.
"I'll catch you at the apartment later, no big deal."
"I have an audition later and then a date," Joey challenged him, a suggestive look following. "I won't be home until late."
Chandler hesitated for a moment, thought, and took another step towards the door, talking to Joey from over his shoulder.
"Tomorrow then," he offered. With a wave goodbye, Chandler left the bistro and made the familiar walk down the street towards his apartment building. It was a short enough walk but seemed to never end with the idea sitting in the front of his mind. If Monica was going to date, so was he. It was the only way he'd be able to get past this silly crush on her. And he knew exactly who to call.
Not to keep up appearances but out of general concern, Chandler actually did stop to see Ross after he'd attended to his own business. Upon his arrival, Ross was slouched so low on his couch, Chandler thought he might just slid right off it and onto the floor. He helped pack a few things up, awkwardly avoiding anything that may be Susan's, although most of Ross's things were obvious: anything dorky or prehistoric was usually a good bet.
Not only was he helping out a friend but it gave Chandler a good distraction and made his afternoon move by that much quicker. He was strangely excited for the evening to come and even found himself smiling as he left Ross's. That alone lifted his hopes for moving on from whatever unreasonable infatuation he had for Monica.
It wasn't until Chandler got home that things really started to settle in. He'd spent a majority of his fall pining over a girl he'd spent one night with and hadn't even thought twice about going out there and finding someone else. He knew having her around all the time was what kept him clinging on but he couldn't bring himself to separate from the group. If seeing his friends all the time meant dealing with his feelings head on, well, he'd do it time and time again. And he had. Each gathering seemed secretly strained inside Chandler's mind as he battled his own stupid emotions while everyone went on living their lives. In retrospect, allowing himself to get so wrapped up in the idea of Monica seemed like such wasted time, especially when he was this thrilled to be going out somewhere and not stuck at home, alone with his thoughts.
Finding his favorite button-up and even giving his jeans an extra run in the dry cycle, just to be sure they looked neat and clean, Chandler was oddly content with how he looked and felt for his date. His usual nerves were there, sure, but they seemed underwhelming in comparison to how good it felt to get out there again.
Janice seemed like a promising date. He'd only met her in passing at the bar, but she was beautiful, friendly and had accepted his request for her number, which was a step further than he got with most girls. Looking at her number on his kitchen counter, he grabbed the scrap of paper and placed it in his pocket for safekeeping. Her neat cursive handwriting was like a small window into her personality and he could only hope tonight would go as well as he needed it to.
And that was when he felt the small flutter in his chest dim subtly. He was undeniably happy about this but he began to ask himself if it was because he actually was excited or if he needed to be; for his own sake. Never the type to fall further than his nerves and commitment issues would allow him, the feelings he harbored for Monica were well past anything he'd felt for any other girl. Truthfully, they were hardly past a lingering crush but to Chandler, or so he told himself, yet it had felt like he was walking down the aisle getting ready to say 'I do'. As if the universe was peeking in on his frazzled thoughts, a knock came at the door and as he opened it, he found the last person he expected on the other side.
"Monica, hey," Chandler greeted her, his voice faltering a bit at the surprise. Taking a quick look over her, he immediately noticed she was in the robe she'd been wearing that night and had her hair pulled loosely into a ponytail. Looking down at his watch and then back up at Monica, Chandler gave her a puzzled look. "Why aren't you out on your 'not-date' with Paul the Wine Guy?"
"I cancelled," she admitted after a long pause. Crossing her arms over her chest, she put up a protective stance. "I just wasn't feeling it, I don't think. Plus, he just got divorced not too long ago, so maybe another time is better."
All Chandler could do was nod solemnly. What was he supposed to say? That he was glad she cancelled? That he hated the idea of them going out and that she shouldn't even consider it for another time? Swallowing the small lump in his throat, he brushed his bangs back away from his eyes and asked the question that was biting at his mind.
"So, um, what's up? Did you need something?"
She looked unsettled by his question and he watched as she shifted on the balls of her feet. A small chuckle escaped her and her smile seemed uneasy, scared even. Blue eyes watched intently as she worked through whatever was plaguing her mind in that moment.
"I was wondering if maybe we could hang out," she said finally. Maybe it was his mind making things up but the statement seemed lined with implications. He felt his heart pick up at her words and fall as soon as he remembered the paper resting in his back pocket and the coat on his counter top. He had plans.
"I actually…crap, Mon," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Offering her an apologetic look, Chandler's lips pressed together into a hard line and glanced back into his apartment as if someone could swoop in and awkwardly answer for him. "I sort of…"
Balancing on her tiptoes, Monica looked past Chandler and into his apartment. On his counter laid some cash, his jacket and the keys to his apartment, ready to leave for his date. She settled back onto her heels and smiled at him, though he swore she looked disappointed.
"I've got plans," he admitted, purposely avoiding the word date, although it felt obvious at his point. "I'm sorry."
Was this the universe's idea of some sick joke? More than anything, he wanted to call Janice and cancel, to come up with some lame excuse as to why he couldn't make it. But it was already too late; he was meant to be on his way to her already and she deserved far better than that. He swallowed again, his throat dry with words he wanted to say, and shoved his hands into his pockets, the slip of paper with Janice's number on it acting as a reminder.
"No, don't be sorry," Monica assured him, seeming sincere enough. Her hand found a place on his forearm and she smiled up at him, adoration in her eyes that seemed to turn Chandler's stomach into a mess of knots. "You look really nice."
"Thanks," he murmured, finding it hard to find his voice. He lingered in silence for a long moment, just enjoying her presence, before he remembered the time crunch he was in. The prolonged moment was doing no favors for his whole 'moving on' thing either. "I'll talk to you when I get back?"
Monica nodded with a small smile. Without a real goodbye, she wandered back to her apartment and he clumsily gathered his belongings, unable to find his equilibrium with his body tingling with anxiety. He locked his door and turned to leave for the cab when he caught a glimpse of Monica standing in her half-opened doorway.
"Have a good time," she smiled. "Let me know how it goes."
With another stiff nod and another forced smile, Chandler was on his way to meet Janice. Fighting himself the entire way, part of him tried bounding back up the stairs to Monica while the other urged him towards the healthy and better alternative. He even considered turning the cab around a few times but never actually followed through. He hated himself for that.