Thanks for the reviews!
About the names I gave the characters: I do realize they aren't the best or the closest to their original names. However, there is still reason to why I chose each and every one of them.
Some come from inside jokes, while others were simply chosen to avoid others. An example of the latter would be why I chose the name Zoey instead of Josie as Joey's female equivalent. I have a close friend named Josie, and I would have found it uncomfortable to write about a character of the same name.
As to your name suggestions, I must admit—Chantel and Raphael sound way better than what I came up with. I especially love how similar Raphael looks to the name Rachel. And I, too, am not a fan of Richie. The reason I chose that name was simply because I could not think of anything better. To be honest, I was feeling quite lazy the day I came up with the six names. That day was long before the idea of this fanfiction even came to mind. Unfortunately, there really is no going back now, so the names will stay the way they are.
As to the other guest (BiggestFriendsFan), I was unable to find your profile page. I tried searching on Google, but nothing came up due what I can only assume is you having no stories up as of yet. Hopefully, you will still be able to find this chapter without the PM.
Last but not least, Dizuz: I love your reviews, as always. Yes, I know it was a little strange for Carl to come out to Rose over the phone, but it was the only way I could think of to make it work for the scene.
Once again, thank you for the reviews. You would not believe how much I love reading them.
"You—you're what?" Rose stuttered, disbelieving.
"Gay," Carl said, this time much quieter than before—almost as if he were ashamed of it.
"Gay?" Rose echoed, considering the word. "As in: you like guys?"
"Yes," came Carl's simple reply.
"As in: you don't like girls?"
"Yes," he repeated.
"And since I'm a girl, then that means . . . Then that means you . . . you don't like me."
There was a long pause before the answer finally came.
"Yes."
Still clinging to the tiniest, most desperate bit of hope left, Rose felt the next question necessary.
"'Yes' as in you do or 'yes' as in you don't?"
"Rose—"
"Just answer the question," Rose interrupted, trying not to sound too angry.
"'Yes' as in . . . as in I love you."
Rose had to fight the urge to perk up at that statement. It sounded like Carl still had more to say.
"I will always love you, Rose. Just—just not in that way. Not anymore. I'm sorry."
After the argument with his father, Monty had initially thought he wouldn't want to speak to anyone at the moment; however, he would now happily talk to the first person he saw. He contemplated going over to his sister's room. She, more than anyone, understood the strain between Monty and their father.
He walked over to her bedroom door and heard her speaking to someone, presumably over the phone. Monty couldn't make out any words. Deciding he shouldn't intrude, he turned to leave—but before he could, the door swung open.
"Monty?" Rose questioned, giving her brother a confused look.
"Is something wrong?" Monty asked when she noticed the pained expression on Rose's face.
She let out an exaggerated breath and replied. "Carl broke up with me."
"What?" Monty shouted in surprise. "Why would he do that? I thought . . . I thought you guys were . . ."
"I know," Rose said sadly. "Me too, but I understand his reason why. He's . . . Carl is gay." Her voice cracked with emotion.
Monty pulled his sister into a hug. "I'm so sorry," he whispered sincerely. He knew how much Rose loved her boyfriend. She had always seen a future with the boy. Most fifteen-year-olds couldn't say that about their relationships. And now she would be back among the majority. Even Monty himself had wanted them so badly to stay together forever. There had always been something so strong about their relationship; but now, whatever that strength was, it was gone.
Chandie immediately ran up to her friend. "Phoenix?" she said in a soft voice as she placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. When he didn't reply, didn't even look up or register Chandie being there, she continued. "Let's just head to my place. We'll set up the guest room for you to stay in," she suggested, hoping that the activity would take his mind off things, at least for a little while.
To Chandie's shock and joy, Phoenix wiped a tear away from his eye and nodded.
"Do you want some tea or something?" Monty asked, pure concern in his liquid-blue eyes.
"No. I think I'm just gonna go for a walk," Rose replied distraughtly.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, it's fine. I—I'd rather just be alone for a while."
"Oh. Okay." Monty stared down at his feet, making Rose feel a bit guilty for putting her brother in such a depressing mood.
Without another thought on the subject, however, she headed downstairs, grabbed her coat, and stepped out into the brisk cold.
After a long walk in dead silence, Chandie and Phoenix arrived at the prior's house. Though, to Phoenix, it was more of a mansion. He had always known his friend to be wealthy, but he'd had no idea she was filthy rich. He had to tilt his head back to see the top of the building that escalated far into the sky.
"You can give me the lecture on how I'm a spoiled little rich girl later," Chandie said, cutting into the silence. "But for now, let's head inside and figure out which room you'd like."
Phoenix's eyes widened. "You have choices? Jeez, Chan. How big is your house?"
"Let's not start throwing around numbers, and we'll just leave it at 'big'."
"Probably for the best," Phoenix agreed. He approached the front door, but not without taking another somber glance up at the building's pure monstrosity.
She didn't mind the bitter chill of a New York winter. She didn't mind the wind that whipped at her hair, blowing the dark strands into her eyes and blocking her line of sight. She didn't even mind the fact that instead of warm winter boots with socks, she had slipped on beach sandals, and now her feet were stiff and felt frozen.
She had lost all ability to mind anything anymore. It felt as if her heart had been ruthlessly ripped out of her chest, thrown violently to the ground, and stopped upon viciously. The analogy may have been a bit extreme with excessive adverb usage, but it was nonetheless how she felt at the moment.
As she walked, she began to approach Chandie's neighborhood. Rose didn't go over to her friend's house often due to complications concerning Chandie's family. However, the few times she had visited were enough for Rose to able to recognize her surroundings.
Chandie's home soon came into view as Rose came within one hundred feet. Rose was more than a bit shocked to spot not only Chandie—but Phoenix—entering the house. What was Phoenix doing here? Of any combination in their little six-person friendship circle, Phoenix and Chandie seemed to be the last pair Rose could picture hanging out together without the rest of the group.
Rose drew closer, halving the distance, just as the door shut behind the two.
Monty felt an unbelievable sadness for his sister at the moment. He had always loved seeing her with Carl. They made such a cute couple and would always look so happy together. To even think of them apart . . .
Monty covered up his sadness the only way he knew how—with food. He had evolved far from his days of obesity, but he still resolved to eating when his negative emotions became unbearable. Making his way downstairs, he found the snack table still loaded with plates and bowls full of greasy food—the exact junk food Monty would always carefully avoid to the best of his abilities. He could barely believe how many things were wrong with the current situation. The kitchen was still a mess, with him doing nothing about it. He was eating the worst food health-wise imaginable. And, to top it all off, Carl and Rose were no longer together.
Everything was not as it should be. Just minutes ago, everything had seemed so nice, so normal. Well, maybe "normal" wasn't the right word, but even so, life had been pretty darn good. Even with how crazy Phoenix had seemed, or the fact that Chandie had left, life had been significantly more appealing at five o' seven than now, at five nineteen.
Sorry for taking so long to release this chapter. It's just plain ridiculous how long this took for me to write. I really hope I never take this long again, though no promises now that I'm writing multiple stories at once. The past week had been a sad, busy one that didn't allow me much time to work on writing this. I make sure not to write while I'm depressed because it makes my writing get all . . . weird. I once made the mistake of writing while depressed, and I somehow wound up killing off all the characters. I do not know how that happened.
On a lighter subject, you know how I keep saying that I'm going to begin writing another Friends fanfiction? Well, this time, I'm not lying. I even came up with yet another fanfiction idea, though I won't share it this time because I really don't want to jinx it like I did with the idea of writing a story about Eddie and one about second-generation Mondler. I actually already posted a second story. It's called New School. It's based off an interesting dream I had and includes some Mondler fun. I would love it if you guys could check it out and tell me how it is. ;)