Author's Note: This was originally part of a series, but I'm leaving it as a one-shot instead.
"All right, Joey, I'll see you later." Phoebe told her friend as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, her husband's hand linked with hers. Mike gave a quick wave as he walked out of Central Perk with his wife. Joey was now alone in the beloved coffee shop, all his friends having gone home with their significant others and children; they all had someone to go home to, someone to love and say I love you to.
I can't believe this. All my friends are married and have a family of their own. Well, Phoebe doesn't yet, but I'm sure she and Mike will be having a baby soon. Joey let out a sigh and stared forlornly at an empty mug that once contained coffee. After Phoebe and Mike have their baby, that means I'll be the only one out of all of us that doesn't have a wife or child. They'll be too busy to spend time with me. I need to do something about this! It really sucks Estelle died; but she was a pretty crappy agent, anyways.
Joey let out another sigh as he took in his surroundings. There were a couple young adults, probably in college, who sat around a table by the window. One of them was wearing those beanies that people his age found fashionable, a girl was wearing one of those oversized glasses partially hidden by her long bangs. On the opposite side of the door, there was what looked like a high schooler and he was texting on those Sidekick cell phones such as the one that Ben Geller had recently gotten for his ninth birthday.
Over at the bar, Gunther was preparing to close up for the evening as the late shift was about to take over. Apparently, the coffee shop was now being used by the younger crowd – known as Millennials – to do study groups and book readings. Joey overheard one of the patrons saying it's like they're bringing the 1960s Beatnik culture back to New York City – whatever that meant. Joey found the idea boring.
Well, I can't get anywhere if I just sit here. Joey told himself. He nodded once, resolved to a silent commitment, and exited the coffee shop without bidding a good night to Gunther. As he opened the door, he heard one of the young adults mention something called Myspace and a chick named Fergie.
Five minutes later, after walking through the dim lighting of Manhattan and climbing the apartment stairs he has trekked numerous times before, Joey was standing outside the door to the place he had called home for eleven years. It was strange now that Monica and Chandler were no longer living across the hallway from him. Rachel decided that she and Emma would be staying with Ross for the time being, while they discussed their newfound relationship and waited for boxes to be shipped back from Paris.
He twisted the key inside the knob and, once inside his apartment, Joey opened the drawer to pull out the phone book. Chandler had spoken about this website he found on the Internet, called White Pages, where you can look up numbers and addresses to people or businesses; but why the hell would he want to waste precious time on the Internet with that garbage when he could look at naked women?
Joey shook his head, the world sure was becoming wacky!
As he opened the page of the battered phone book, Joey noticed the answering machine's blinking red light. He pressed the button for play, turning his attention back to the phone book.
"Hello, Mr. Tribbiani. This is Ray Blackburg at NBC Entertainment in Burbank. I am aware you're on one of our shows, Days of our Lives, and we were wondering if you would like to come out here to star in a Drake Ramoray spin-off. The concept was pitched to us last week and we're still negotiating with the producers of this spin-off, whose tentative title right now is Nurses. This show will be a mid-season replacement and we hope to film the pilot in July and, if it is picked up, filming will begin in October. We haven't cast anyone for this series yet, as the producers are waiting to hear from you. I expect to hear back from you as soon as possible, Mr. Tribbiani. Thank you for your time."
"Oh, my god!" Joey cried, falling into the reclining chair as the phone book lay forgotten on the counter.
I can't believe this! They're doing a Drake Ramoray spin-off, and they want me! Well, of course they do; but I mean, it's me! A Drake Ramoray spin-off! This is crazy. Oh, man, I have to call this guy back!
However, as Joey stood and reached for the phone, an unsettling thought struck him.
This means I have to leave New York. I can't leave New York, can I? My whole life is here! I was born here, my friends are here, my family is here. Well, Tony's in LA, but I hardly ever talk to him. I don't know if I can do this. Joey stared carefully at the phone in his hand for a moment.
But I'm sure the others won't care if I leave. They've been paying less attention to me lately and it really hurts. They've been so caught up in themselves – Monica and Chandler, trying to get a baby; Rachel moving to Paris and getting back with Ross; Phoebe planning for her wedding and beginning a life with Mike – it almost seems like they put on an act whenever they're around me. They're not very good at it.
Joey turned over the phone and began to dial, prepared to take Mr. Blackburg's offer.
"Hi, this is Joey Tribbiani. I'm looking for Ray Blackburg. Yeah, I got the message and I would love to do this show. Thanks. All right, call me when you hear more. Bye." Joey hung up and looked around sadly.
He was going to Los Angeles, prepared to leave New York behind. It almost seemed surreal to him now, the thought of leaving his friends and family behind, hoping that this show would take off and launch him towards stardom. Even if he was moving across the country to begin a new life, there was no way he could forget all the memories he had here, in this apartment and at the coffee house.
It was thanks to some nut-job named Mr. Heckles that he became friends with these people all those years ago; the very same people who are now moving onto a new phase of their lives and he was certain they'd be happy for him. It'd be hard to leave them behind, but he had to do this. For himself.
And maybe there'd be a nut-job in Los Angeles who will play a part in him joining a new group of friends.