Author's Note 1: Cross-posted to AO3. Originally posted (and orphaned) in 2021.

Lynbrook, New York. August 1985.
Fifteen-year-old Chandler Bing was bored out of his fucking mind, it was ridiculous. He knew the only reason Nora and Charles – he refused to call them 'Mom' and 'Dad'; they had never earned the right to be called by those names – brought him to this function so that they could show off their precious son off to these hoity-toity Long Island elites. Everyone in this oversized house tonight were either very rich, very old, had a stick up their asses; or all of the above. None of this fit Chandler M. Bing one bit.

Charles was parading the teenaged boy around, pretending to be his pimp or something perverse. HE showcased Chandler's 'pretty-boy' looks and how he would be a good model. Have you seen my son? He crooned to a group of elderly men; one held a lit cigar in his hand, and another had a half-filled glass of whiskey. He could be a model! Don't you gentlemen agree?

It was definitely cringe-worthy. What sixty-year-old men looked at a fifteen-year-old boy like that? Sick.

Meanwhile, Nora was dragging Chandler from room to room, introducing him to potential partners; some of whom were significantly older than him. The teenager stood uncomfortably, not saying a word, and listened as Nora went on about his virtues, including his virginity. Look at him! He's beautiful, what girl wouldn't want him? Nora marveled; her voice filled with awe.

Beautiful? Ha, yeah fucking right. Chandler thought, looking at himself in a hallway mirror. He hadn't quite reached puberty while the vast majority of boys in his class had. Instead, Chandler was tall, gangly, he wore braces, he had bad acne, and his hair was too long – but Charles liked it that way.

But, damn it, Chandler just wanted his body to function properly and to look like everyone else his age.

Was that really too much to ask of the world, of whatever powers that be? Chandler had a feeling he would need years' worth of therapy as an adult with the way his parents have treated him. Nobody would want him, even long after everything started functioning properly and his acne had cleared up.

Finding a secluded corner where the crowd was barely audible, Chandler pulled out a box of Camel light from his jacket pocket. He needed a smoke really badly.

"Chandler! Honey, where are you?" The teenager heard his mother heard from down the hall

Shit, it's like she knows! Chandler stuffed the cigarette back in his pocket and looked around frantically, hoping for an escape. He was not about to be subjected to any more humiliation by Nora and Charles tonight. After a few quick seconds of flicking his eyes back and forth, Chandler was gutted to find there was no place to escape; with the exception of a door that led to the backyard of the property.

Upon hearing his mother's footsteps approaching quickly, Chandler decided he was going to make his escape through the door. The homeowners insisted that their guests not enter the backyard; but Chandler had no other choice, he had to hide from Nora. He made a run for the glass door, quickly opening it and hurried outside. Once he had shut the door gently behind him, Chandler let out a long sigh of relief. He was finally away from all those people.

But, most of all, Chandler was glad to be away from two of the most embarrassing, most controlling, most inappropriate people in the world; the ones that he was supposed to be calling Mom and Dad.

The backyard was dimly lit and, when Chandler had come outside, he expected it to be empty; instead, he could see a brunette sitting on a bench situated beneath a large oak tree. This girl looked to be about his age and, for a moment, Chandler wondered whether or not he should join her. He stuck his hands deep in his pocket and shuffled his feet, feeling slightly awkward. He had never been good at talking to girls, and his parents were certainly no help; and going to an all-boys school contributed to that.

"Um, hey." Chandler approached the girl. He decided against his instincts, figuring that this girl probably felt just as lonely as he did and wanted some company. What was the worst that could happen? It's not like he would ever see her again; and if he made an idiot of himself…

…

Fourteen-year-old Rachel Green was miserable! She could not believe that her parents decided to drag her to this function, and then have the nerve to ask her to watch after Jill and Amy while they mingled with these snooty Long Islanders. Did her parents not realize how psychotic and annoying these two girls were? They were demons posing as an eleven-year-old and an eight-year-old. Everything they said and did have malicious intent behind them, they had the world wrapped around their slender little fingers.

Rachel didn't want anything to do with her younger sisters. After all, she was practically a grown-up now and her sisters weren't even teenagers yet. Amy was in the sixth grade and Jill was in the third grade. On the other hand, Rachel was about to begin high school; Amy and Jill had a long way to go before they could be hip like their sister, no matter how hard they tried. They always ended up embarrassing her.

"But, Mom!" Rachel whined half an hour earlier, with a dark sideways glare at her sisters. "I don't want to look after Amy and Jill! I want to be home, looking after Marshmallow. Why can't I just go home?"

"Rachel Karen Green," her mother, Sandra, began in a firm voice. "You will watch your sisters while your father and I socialize with these people. We only do this once a year, and you know the babysitter is sick today, so we had to bring you with us. You should feel privileged we decided to bring you and your sister. After all, Rachel, this will be your life in just a few years. Now, why don't you go find your friends? I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

Rachel rolled her eyes at her mother's patronizing tone and threw another dark glare at her sister. They were complete nightmares and there was no way in hell her friends were going to be here tonight. A miserable thought struck her: they were probably at Shannon Matresky's house for a slumber party.

"You'll have no problem looking after your sisters, Pumpkin," her father, Leonard, said as he pats his eldest daughter on the shoulder. His gesture was probably intended to comfort her; but, instead, Rachel felt nothing but misery at the prospect of looking after Amy and Jill for the next few hours.

"Oh honey, look, there's Sal and Joyce Weinberg."

Rachel was able to find the perfect opportunity to escape when Amy and Jill found some boys to begin a conversation with, boys too old not only for the preteen girls but for Rachel herself. She knew her parents would be livid if they found out about this; but the eldest Green daughter couldn't have cared less. Instead of dragging her sisters away, she turned around and went out into the empty backyard.

The teenager couldn't remember the last time she felt as alone as she did right now. She was not the type of person to be alone, to get lonely; at school, she was one of the most popular girls in the class. She hoped that she would maintain her popularity throughout high school, and that was something that scared her. A couple of her friends were going off to private school and she had insisted on public school.

To her relief, Rachel noticed a bench placed under a huge oak tree. She sat down with a sigh, wondering what her friends were doing at this moment. They're probably watching The Breakfast Club and eating crappy food in their pajamas, while Shannon blabbers on about useless gossip.

"Um, hey," a boy began to approach her and she wasn't sure how much time had already passed. Nobody even bothered to come out and look for her, and she looked carefully at this boy. He looked to be about a year or two older than her. Instead of returning his greeting, she remained quiet, mindful of her parents' admonishments about not speaking to strangers.

If only Amy and Jill could do the same.

"I- uh- I'm Chandler," the boy introduced himself, stammering. Rachel thought it was cute how he was nervous speaking to her, a complete stranger who's a pretty girl. He probably doesn't do this very often.

"I'm Rachel. You can sit if you want." She watched him as he smiled and took a seat on the bench.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" The boy, Chandler, asked.

"I could ask you the same thing." Rachel hadn't expected to see anyone her age at this function.

"Are you hiding from someone?" Isn't everyone, Rachel thought with an eye roll.

"Yeah." Rachel sighed. "My annoying sisters, Amy and Jill, who I think are really demons in disguise. Actually, they found some guys to talk to that are way too old for them. Whatever," Rachel shrugged. "At least I got away from them. How about you, who are you hiding from?"

…

"My dad," Chandler began. "He wants to showcase me as a model." He realized a beat too late what he had just said as Rachel gave him a strange look. A cold feeling began to settle in the pit of his stomach; of course, he had to say something stupid!

Chandler reminded himself he's never going to see this girl again, so it didn't really matter.

"What do you mean by that?" She looked at him quizzically.

"Uh, you know what?" Chandler's heart was pounding.

"Let's not talk about my dad." He laughed nervously.

"Okay, whatever." Rachel shrugged, and Chandler let out a sigh of relief. She hadn't been scared off.

"So, do you live around here?" She asked after they were quiet for a moment, listening to the crickets.

"Nah, I live in Flushing, in Queens. You?"

"Well, you've heard of that movie, The Amityville Horror, right?"

"Yeah, you live there?" Chandler was impressed, he wondered if she ever saw any movie stars.

"The next town over. Yeah, and we've gotten movie fans coming through our town." Rachel added at the surprised look on Chandler's face.

"Well, I think that's pretty-," Chandler began, but got cut off by a sharp voice.

"Chandler, there you are!" He cringed at the sound of his mother's loud voice. "You know nobody's allowed out back here. Come inside this instant."

Chandler buried his face in his hands and let out an anguished cry.

"That's your mother?" Chandler knew what Rachel was thinking: based on that dress – if you could even call it that – Nora Bing wore, how the hell could she be anyone's mother? His life was a freaking Oedipal nightmare; no wonder he couldn't get girls!

"Don't ask." Chandler pleaded, not looking at Rachel. "Nice meeting you." He stood and looked at her.

"Nice to meet you too, Chandler." Rachel smiled kindly. "I should probably go check on my sisters."

"Watch out for those demons in disguise." Chandler smirked before turning away, ready to face the awful people inside. Well, he'd never be ready; but he knew that he had less than three more years to put up with this torture. The day he turned eighteen – or shortly afterwards – he was getting out.

And he was never going to look back.

…

"Are you talking to a girl out here, Chandler? Goodness, you know your father will be so disappointed." The woman's voice dripped with sarcasm as she held the door opening, hurrying her son inside.

"Yeah, okay." Rachel could hear the boy say, loud enough for her even from some twenty feet away. He dragged his feet towards the woman and, in the dim lighting, Rachel could see him slouched over with his hands in his pockets.

Rachel felt for this boy, and wondered why this woman was being so hard on her son. She was fortunate to have come from a family where her mother and father were empathetic human beings, who really went out of their way to give their three daughters what they wanted; it didn't always happen, but it happened probably a lot more frequently than it did for this Chandler kid.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that, young man!" The woman pointed a finger towards the boy as he stepped through the door. He didn't give any response or type of acknowledgement. Both mother and boy disappeared behind the closed door, leaving Rachel outside alone on the bench once again.

Rachel let out a sigh, she knew she had to go inside and check on her sisters. Sure, they were demons in disguise, but her parents were counting on her to look after them. If something happened to either one of them, she was certain she'd have privileges taken away from her. Or, worse, Marshmallow would be taken away, sent to live on a farm somewhere upstate. Rachel gasped at the thought of losing her horse.

With that thought in mind, Rachel stood and walked towards the glass door with determination. She was going to find Amy and Jill, and they were going to the library to read. Hopefully the homeowners had books that would keep an eleven- and eight-year-old girl entertained for a couple hours.

There was no way she was going to lose Marshmallow.

But, when she shut the door behind her, now inside the air-conditioned home, something seemed off. It only took a couple steps to the left and turning one corner to see Amy and Jill huddled together on the stairs, Amy was comforting her younger sister, who was in tears.

Rachel could feel a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"What happened?"

"You were supposed to be watching us, Rachel. Those boys were up to no good. I'm telling Mom and Dad, and you're going to lose Marshmallow." Amy accused her older sister, her voice filled with venom.

Aw, shit. Rachel hated this. She hated everything about this night and this lifestyle and these people.

Author's Note 2: I've always loved the idea of Rachel and Chandler meeting when they were teenagers.