𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 || joey tribbiani [ HIATUS ]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

— THE ONE WHERE IT ALL BEGINS —

•✧•

NIGHTS IN MANHATTAN WERE ALWAYS unforgiving. Bitter winds like whips in Veronica Moore's face as she hustled down dimly lit streets with no destination in mind. It was almost as bad as the argument she had with her obnoxious mother less than an hour ago that led to this predicament.

No. No, her mother was definitely worse.

She slung her black duffel bag further up her coat's thick fleece shoulder and tried to silence the mocking words that forced her not to look back. Narrow, sketchy roads stretched ahead of her and that was when the adrenaline began to dwindle.

Her feet began to ache from her last minute escape from her mother's penthouse and her indignant strides slowly reduced to timid tip-toes. Suddenly she was aware of how tiny she was outside of the odd comfort of her mother's home. The exposure was too much for her to handle, but she knew it was too late for her to turn back now.

The last thing she wanted was to give her mother even a shadow of a doubt that she may have been right. Veronica would never grant her that victory.

An hour must have passed before Veronica finally gave herself a moment to rest, holding her bag against her legs as she leaned on the windowsill of a coffee shop. It was dark inside and there was no sign of another person. Veronica squinted against the pane mirroring her reflection to catch a glimpse of the clock hung above the counter.

It was well past 1 in the morning.

"Oh, God." Veronica pressed her hands to her lips, thoughts racing with questions ranging from 'Where am I supposed to sleep?' to 'God, why is it so cold?'

She could have bashed her head against the thick glass, shattering the prettily painted CENTRAL PERK logo and it wouldn't clear her mind. All she could come up with was what time she would get home if she turned back now. Veronica groaned, letting her forehead thunk onto the glass.

Mindlessly, the woman opened her smaller handbag she had dangling off of her side and searched for her address book — damn Brady for making fun of her and calling the thing 'useless' and 'old-looking.' She flipped through the first few pages, cursing her mother's entry in bold ink: Avery Moore - Mom right above her address and phone number. A few more passed, skimming over family members that were either left behind in Queens or lived too far to get to by morning.

Brady Moore, Brandi Collins... Chad Williams, Chandler Bing...

Veronica paused, scanning the scribbled address underneath Chandler's messily written name. He lived in Manhattan and telling by the listed location that matched the street sign Veronica stole a glance of, it was very close by. Veronica would have jumped for joy if it wasn't pitch black outside and if she weren't clutching some of her valuables in an easily-snaggable bag at her side.

Chandler Bing. It had been a couple of years since she heard that name. Obviously, it was after she purchased her address book to prepare for her "adult life" that consisted of an internship at her mother's hospital and a rejected apartment application. She happened upon his phone number written on his graduation card he'd given her with his tiny note of don't forget about me! right beside it a year later.

The two caught up over a lengthy phone call, most of it reminiscing over the good times they had in college, and he gave her his address when she mentioned that her mother had moved them to Manhattan for a promotion, which should have prompted for a little reunion — maybe with Ross if he too had moved to Manhattan.

Life didn't seem to work in their favor at that time.

Veronica was a sucker for the concept of destiny that Chandler and Ross used to ridicule her about, but for once maybe it was actually working to help her out this time.

No. The woman started to put her pocketbook back into her purse at the thought of showing up at her old best friend's front door unannounced like a bum. It was fun in college, but give it around four years and suddenly it teeters between an awkward interaction and a misdemeanor.

Oh, but did she really have a choice?

Her self-realization that she was standing outside of a closed coffee shop in her slippers and pajamas underneath her one good coat lugging along a singular bag and her purse reminded her that she, in fact, did not. As much as she hated putting her pride aside, this time she swallowed it down like ice water after a disorienting nap and headed towards the apartment building on the other end of the street.

Apt. 19. Veronica trudged up a few flights up stairs until she reached the third story. She made her way down the stretch of the hallway and scanned the apartment door numbers. It didn't take her long when she first spotted apartment 20, spinning around to find Chandler's. At least, she hoped it was still Chandler's.

The woman dropped her bag to her feet and gently knocked on the door, wincing at how loud it was in the silent corridor. She waited a moment, listening carefully for any rustling inside of the flat. Nothing she could make out. Hesitantly, she brought her fist down a bit harder this time.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Again, there was no movement inside. Veronica chewed her bottom lip and began to form every worst possible scenario about to unwind if someone that's not Chandler answers the door. Then again, if he does, it would instantly ease all of her worries. One more try shouldn't hurt — maybe Chandler was a deeper sleeper than she remembered.

Veronica raised her fist once more and prepared to bang on the door when it very angrily swung open and she was left petrified where she stood.

•✧•

ANNNNNNND BEGINNINGGGGG... ANOTHER STORY REN WILL HAVE NO TIME FOR AND EVENTUALLY FALL BEHIND ON!!! omg i've been watching friends for about a week already and i love it so much specifically i love JOEY so much!