21-year-old Monica Gellar looked around the apartment. "You’re really giving this to me, Grandma?" she asked. Her grandmother nodded. "I can’t believe it – it’s wonderful!" She hugged her grandma. "Thank you so much, Grandma!"

Mrs. Gellar smiled at Monica’s happy face. She had always felt sorry for Monica. Judy and Jack had both loved Ross the most – the medical marvel, the firstborn son. When Ross and his girlfriend, Carol, married, Monica had been so upset, that her grandmother had given her the apartment. She was moving to California anyway, and wouldn’t need it.

Ross came running through the door of the purple-painted apartment. "Monica, Grandma, you’ll never guess what!" he cried. He didn’t wait for them to guess. "My friend Chandler from college – remember him? Well, he lives across the hall! It’ll be great – I mean, you know him already—oh."

He trailed off, remembering the last time Chandler and Monica had met. "Y’know, Ross, maybe it’s okay," Monica told him. "I mean, maybe he’ll have forgotten, maybe…" She stopped as the door opened and a cute guy of around Ross’ age entered. He had light brown hair, blue eyes, and a slight limp.

"Hey man," he greeted Ross. "Old woman," he acknowledged Mrs. Geller. "Monica."

"How’s the toe?" Monica asked, blushing.

"Fine," he replied, not meeting her eyes.

Mrs. Geller sensed the uncomfortable atmosphere and stood up. "Right, so Monica, you’ve got everything, right honey? Okay, I’m off, bye." With that, she left.

"So…" Ross hesitated. "This is fun," he announced, brightly. He looked at his watch and sighed. "Yeah, I’ve got to meet Carol."

"Carol?" Chandler repeated, confused.

"My wife," Ross said. "Did you not come to the wedding?"

"Oh, that Carol," Chandler laughed. Ross laughed along with him, and left.

Alone with Chandler, Monica flopped down on the sofa. Chandler did the same. "So…" he began. "Uh, nice apartment you got here."

"It’s my grandmother’s," Monica said awkwardly. She shook herself inwardly. "Okay, I just gotta say it. I’m sorry about your toe. Cos if I don’t say anything, this is gonna be awkward."

"Yeah," Chandler agreed. "Ah, don’t worry. I’m fine with it. It’s over and done with now, right?" Monica nodded.

"Maybe we should forget it?" Monica asked, and he smiled.

"I’d like that."

Monica grinned. "Okay, so tell me a bit about yourself. We never talked before, did we?"

"Well, I’m twenty-two, I, uh, I live across the hall with my roommate Kip," Chandler told her. "It’s easier having a roommate – you don’t have to pay so much money."

"Yeah, I guess I need one." Monica wondered where she’d find a roommate. "Where did you and Kip meet?"

"Strip club." He paused. "You can advertise though, but it might be best to be careful if you do that, cos you could end up living with a serial killer." Monica giggled. "Oh, you like jokes?" She nodded. "Yeah, I’m the best at that. My parents divorced when I was nine and I started using humour as a defence mechanism."

"Why did they get divorced?" Monica asked, curious now. "Sorry, is that too personal?"

"No, no, it’s okay," Chandler replied. "Uh, my dad’s gay. He runs a gay burlesque show in Vegas – called Viva Las Gaygas," he added, blushing as Monica giggled again.

"Wow… my parents are so dull," Monica sighed. "I mean, they nearly had a fit when I said I wanted to live by myself. I-I-I was meant to go from my parents’ house to my husband’s house, I guess."

"Anyone in line for that?"

"What, a husband? No, I’ve only had one boyfriend." Monica blushed as she revealed this secret.

"And you’re – how old?" Chandler asked.

"Twenty-one," Monica muttered, not meeting his eyes.

"That’s sweet," Chandler assured her. He looked into her eyes. "You’re cute, you know that?" He took a deep breath. "You wanna get a drink sometime?"

Monica gasped. "Are-are you asking me out?" she queried.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Okay!" Monica laughed. "Wow, I never knew it was possible for someone to ask me out!"

"What about your last boyfriend?" Chandler asked, intrigued. "If you had a boyfriend, he must’ve asked you out."

"Nah, not really. We were just really drunk, ended up doin’ it on a pool table, and just hung around together for a few months. Wasn’t exactly serious," Monica confessed.

"A pool table?" Like any guy, this subject interested Chandler. However, he wasn’t really interested in the little sordid details – he was more interested in getting to know Monica for herself – not as Ross Gellar’s sister.

"Uh-huh, why?" Monica asked primly, her eyes dancing.

"Nothing, you, uh, just don’t look like someone who’d do it with a guy on a pool table," he told her.

"What, I look like a lesbian?" Monica teased. It was nice to feel so friendly around someone she’d only just met.

"No!" He hit her lightly on the arm. She hit him back, and they laughed.

"This is fun," Chandler said, presently. He had his arm around Monica, and they were cuddled together. "So, tell me about you, Monica."

"There’s nothing to tell," Monica said, little knowing that in a few years she would echo those same words. "I’m twenty-one, I haven't really got any friends, I split up with my boyfriend last month, and that was partly why Grandma gave me this apartment, I guess. Oh, and cos Ross and Carol got married, and I couldn’t stick being at home with mom and dad by myself."

"Why, don’t you get on?" Chandler queried.

"I like Dad, but Mom, ugh, I don’t know…" Monica replied, her face giving away what she thought of her mother.

"Yeah, I don’t get on with my parents, either," Chandler stated, matter-of-factly.

The two chatted for hours. They talked about everything – Monica learned that Chandler had had three girlfriends, and Chandler learned that Monica loved cooking. Then they got onto the topic of friends. They both had only really had one close friend in their lives – for Monica it had been Rachel Green, and for Chandler, it had been Ross. "Although Kip’s okay," he told her. "Hey, we have so much in common."

"Yeah, we do, don’t we?" Monica smiled. "I think we’re gonna be friends," she added.