I've moved the Rockefeller Center scene to chapter 12, added a birthday party to chapter 13, and made slight changes to make the timeline clearer in the early chapters. Joey dated Rachel during Sept-Oct; he was in L.A. for all November, plus two weeks after Chandler's visit; since mid-December he's been back in New York and trying to sort things out.
I also realized that Joey and Ross's phone conversation should have been more tense and awkward because they've been avoiding each other ever since Joey's breakup with Rachel. So I'll have to go back and fix that later. Please excuse the sloppiness for now.
Because it was a chilly January day, Joey had ample excuse for pulling up the collar of Carl's overcoat and hunching his shoulders. With his dark glasses, the disguise was complete, so he managed to leave the apartment building and walk past all the paparazzi without them realizing it.
Several blocks away, Joey breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed, enjoying his freedom. Of course, he couldn't let his guard down completely, because other people on the street might recognize him too, if they looked closely enough and remembered what he looked like without a beard.
After stopping at an ATM for more cash, Joey headed to the nearest park and found a secluded bench to sit on. He glanced around to make sure he was alone, then pulled out his cell phone and called his parents' house in Queens.
"Hello?" Gloria Tribbiani answered.
Joey spoke in a low voice, "Hey, Ma, I got out."
"What? Joey, I can barely hear you."
"Well I gotta be quiet, 'cause I sneaked out of my apartment."
"You did? How?"
"I got a friend to come over and lend me his clothes. Now I'm him, and he's me."
"Oh, that's smart! So does that mean you're coming home to see us today?"
"Well, uh, are there any reporters around the house now?"
"Oh, last time I checked they were hovering at the end of the street, but maybe they'll take a lunch break and you can sneak in?"
"I don't know. Maybe it'd be safer to do it at night when it's dark. Besides, I told Carl I'd only be gone for about an hour, and I got to do some other stuff."
She sighed. "All right. So you'll call home later?"
"Yeah, or you guys can call my cell phone."
"Okay, I love you."
"Love you too, Ma. Bye." Joey hung up and then called Phoebe, hoping to have lunch with her and possibly ask for her advice about Chandler. Maybe he should have confided in her before, because of all his old friends, she might actually understand. Phoebe had often teased Chandler for being gay and had cynically predicted a divorce for years now. In fact, when questioned about the current scandal, she had not really commented on it, so much as threatened the reporters in proper Street Phoebe manner. "Leave us alone, or I'll kick all your asses!"
Unfortunately, Joey only got Phoebe's voicemail, because the massage chain where she worked had strict rules to keep cell phones off, to not disturb the clients. Despite her toughness, Phoebe did fear the evil, bloodsucking corporate machine, which she thought was secretly watching her like Big Brother. Joey realized that she might not check her messages until after she was already at a restaurant, probably a vegetarian one.
With a sigh, Joey got up and left the park, wondering what he should do now. As he passed by a newsstand, he glimpsed the word "beard" displayed prominently in the headlines, which stopped him cold. He got scared and wildly imagined for a moment that the tabloid reporters had figured out his switch and somehow instantly published the news.
But when Joey discreetly bought a tabloid and started reading the story, he realized that they were just speculating about Monica being a "beard," a sham wife to hide Joey and Chandler's sexuality. Joey frowned and felt bad; that theory was more distasteful than Tom Gordon calling Monica a drag queen. He hoped that Monica was okay.
Even worse, Joey read on and found out that they were debating whether or not to call Rachel a beard as well, because yesterday, when the paparazzi had accosted her outside of Ralph Lauren, she had revealed that she and Joey had been dating months ago, and that was the real reason why Joey had disappeared to L.A. for a while.
The gossip hounds were skeptical, thinking that she was just making this up.
"No, it's true! We broke up, and then he decided to quit and move away."
"If that's true, then why didn't you or Joey's other friends tell us about this relationship before?" Many of these same reporters had interviewed Joey's circle three months ago, when Joey first disappeared.
"Well, because it was private and painful and none of your business! It still isn't!" She turned and pushed past them.
They continued to hurl questions at her, though she ignored them as she escaped.
"If it was so bad, then why would he move back here?"
"Don't you have a baby with that other guy, Ross Geller? But you claim that Joey dated you?"
And since Joey hadn't mentioned Rachel in his own official statement, the tabloids concluded that Rachel must be lying, or else a slut. The relationships of this group of six friends seemed to get more tangled and salacious with each new discovery.
Joey shook his head in disgust and threw the paper into a trash can. God, what a mess!
Then he spotted a nearby costume shop, and he decided to go in and buy a fake beard, or maybe two. He or Carl might need them, if they continued to switch identities for the next few days. It might not be convincing up close, but at a distance it might help. So Joey entered the costume shop, where he used a fake voice and paid cash.
When he left, with the fake beards in Carl's coat pocket, Joey decided to go grab lunch somewhere. As he debated whether to go to one of his favorite places or avoid them to keep from getting recognized by the waiters, Joey self-consciously ran a hand over his shaved face; he wasn't really used to the bare skin, after having a beard for three months. He recalled that night in L.A., when Chandler had kept touching his beard and even called it sexy. The memory made Joey feel sad and guilty now, especially since they had kissed again yesterday.
Joey finally got on a bus and headed to Rockefeller Center. They had already taken down the Christmas tree, of course, but Joey stared out from the restaurant and remembered spending December 26th here, with Chandler. That was back before they realized that gossip-mongers were shadowing and photographing them. Maybe he had let Chandler get too close and hug him too long.
When she got home, Monica took off her coat and hat, then set down her purse on the counter. She looked around the living room and gasped at the mess that Chandler had left behind. The couch was unmade, the dishes were unwashed, Rachel's key had been tossed into the trash, there were scuff marks on the floor from the dragging, and worst of all, Chandler had senselessly destroyed many of her favorite photos. "Oh, no!" Upset, she fell to her knees on the rug and looked at the scattered shreds in disbelief.
In the bedroom, Chandler heard her and quietly said goodbye to his dad before hanging up the phone. After hearing the full story, Charles Bing had suggested that Chandler should now talk to his wife and end the charade. Chandler didn't see the point, though, believing that she didn't love him anyway.
After Monica calmed down and realized that she still had negatives neatly numbered and filed away somewhere, she got back to her feet with a groan. She was close to six months along in her pregnancy, making it difficult.
Monica entered their bedroom and saw Chandler lying under the covers, clearly having cried and moped again. She spoke as sympathetically as she chould, "Look, Chandler, I know that this scandal has been rough on you, but that's no reason to act crazy like this." She sighed. "I mean, have you just not eaten enough? It looks like you've had nothing since the cereal you tossed away."
He didn't look at her, and just answered numbly, "I'm not hungry."
"Well, um, maybe I should draw you a nice bath to soothe you? I'll fill it up with all those crystals and bubbles you like."
Chandler shook his head and needed something far stronger. "No. I-I need a drink and some cigarettes." He even got out of bed and looked for clothes to change into.
She watched him in shock and got angry. "Chandler, no! You promised to quit for good the last time! And we're having a baby, so--"
"You are. Not me."
"What?" She was hurt and confused, then she guessed that he resented her being controlling and critical. "No, I know that it's our baby, Chandler. I'm sorry I got carried away about picking names and how to decorate the nursery. It's just that you've got no taste--" She didn't even realize that she was slipping into insults again, as she rambled on about how long she'd waited for a baby and that she had all these big plans already, and besides, Ross and Rachel had taken the name Emma that she'd wanted, so it was important to find a new name, and what kind of a name was Hemingway Bing anyway?
Ignoring her, Chandler dressed, then combed his hair in front of the mirror while he put on a watch. Then he grabbed his wallet and cell phone, starting to leave.
Realizing that he was serious about going out, Monica protested and blocked the door. "Wait! No! You can't even go outside anyway, because of the paparazzi downstairs. I barely made it through myself, only by saying, 'Don't piss off a pregnant lady!'"
Chandler frowned, but said, "I'll--I'll ask Treeger to go out and get cigarettes for me, and a new lighter--" He moved around her and left the bedroom.
"Chandler, stop!" She followed and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the couch. "Come on, sit down and let's talk. I'm--I'm sorry I upset you about the baby, but you know how I am. I'll try to be better."
He shrugged and only said, "It doesn't matter."
She took that as forgiveness, then asked, "Okay, so what about you and Rachel earlier? She said that you were really hostile, even taking away her apartment key. Did she do something to make you angry too?"
"I hate her," he said, seething with resentment and jealousy.
Monica couldn't understand how he could hate her, after nine years of amiable friendship. "Why do you hate her?"
He stared at the floor and pouted miserably. "It's not fair. She--she was with Joey."
"Yeah, so?" Monica stared and tried to understand his meaning. "Wait--Oh, you're not still blaming her for breaking up with Joey, and him running away to L.A., are you?"
Chandler nodded and choked up. Two months she had with Joey. Two months. It hurt so much.
Monica sighed and shrugged, rolling her eyes at her husband's unreasonableness. "Chandler! Look, I guess that the breakup did make Joey go to L.A., and maybe it has something to do with why the paparazzi were following him lately, and why the rumors got started..." She strained to make the connection. "But come on, this gossip is not Rachel's fault! It's no reason to throw her out and yell at her and hate her. You should be mad at the gossip reporters, not our friends!"
"She's not my friend!" he yelled fiercely. "She's a spoiled, whiny princess, and I never want to see her again!"
Monica jumped back in bewilderment. "Chandler!"
"She's a selfish bitch!" he raged. "She stumbled into marrying and divorcing Ross. She stumbled into a one-night stand and having a baby. She stumbled into a fake proposal at the hospital. She stumbled into dating Joey and leaving him. Rachel gets to do whatever she wants, messing up people's lives, and not taking responsibility for the chaos. She's like a stupid child, but nobody makes her stop or apologize--!"
Monica shouted back, "It's not her fault, Chandler! Rachel didn't mean to do anything wrong; it just happened by accident. And she's my best friend, and she's with Ross, and we're not going to stop seeing her just because you've gone crazy."
Chandler scoffed bitterly and stood up. "Yeah, 'cause we always have to do what you want! You always get your way!"
She gaped in astonishment. "What's gotten into you, Chandler?"
"You and that bitch!" he answered. "I'm sick of this, and I want out. You can have the baby, and the apartment, and everything. I don't care, and I just want the divorce."
"What! D-Divorce?" Monica thought she must be hearing things.
"I can't go on like this anymore, Monica. It's not worth it, and it's starting to become like my parents' marriage anyway. All lies and pretense. I'm leaving now, and you can call a lawyer." He turned to go to the door.
"No! Stop, please! God, Chandler, calm down!" She grabbed his arms and tried to keep him from going. He must have lost his mind.
Pulling away from her, Chandler said with a frown, "Monica, you don't need me anymore. You got what you really wanted, a baby. Maybe you can go raise it with Richard now, or stay on your own so you can control every detail. Whatever you want."
"I want you!" Monica insisted, thinking that he was just being paranoid again. "I don't want Richard, and it's been over for years! I really love you, Chandler!"
"No you don't!" he answered. "You just love controlling me. You love having the perfect life, the perfect marriage where you get everything you want, and my balls belong to you!"
Monica gasped and cried. "I'm not that bad!"
"Yes, you are! You get more neurotic and freaky every year, and I barely recognize you from who you used to be. Maybe I was dead enough inside to just shut up and take it until now, but not anymore! Not after he kissed me."
She blinked and looked up. "What? What are you talking about?"
Chandler teared up at the memory and shook his head. "Joey kissed me yesterday, and I thought he really loved me after all, but no. I'm not Rachel. I'm just a big mistake."
Monica stammered, "He--he what? How? You're--you're gay?"
"Yeah." He looked at her spitefully. "You weren't the only one settling for this loveless marriage. You weren't my first choice either."
"What?" She was stunned and hurt. "I wasn't settling for you. I love you."
He scoffed. "You have a horrible way of showing it!" Then he got up and stormed out of the apartment at last.