[ iv. the one with all the hangovers ]

september 25th, 1994

☕☕☕

SABRINA MUNOZ WOKE UP the next morning on Monica Geller's couch, feeling like she had been hit by a bus. Her whole body felt stiff and her head pounded like there was a jackhammer inside of it, determined to split her brain in two. Letting a quiet groan escape her cracked lips, Sabrina grimaced. The inside of her mouth tasted absolutely horrible, and her breath was even worse. Closing her eyes once more, Sabrina intended to ignore all that was wrong with her and hoped that sleep would take her again. But then she heard voices and she knew, right then and there, that any hope at slumber was gone.

Should she have expected any other outcome? Probably not. It was Monica's apartment, after all. It was never empty, and it was never quiet. That was just the way things went and Sabrina was no exception to any rule. She supposed she should just be grateful that she had a place to stay and be thankful that she had been allowed to sleep as long as she had. But right now, Sabrina was not one to look on the bright side. Right now, she was not feeling thankful for anything. All that she knew was that she was hungry. She was sick. She was irritable. And she was hungover.

Begrudgingly Sabrina slowly rose into a sitting position, holding her breath as the world turned in her vision slightly. Her stomach was not happy with her, whatsoever. Without looking around, Sabrina draped an arm over the back of the couch and turned, the blanket that had been covering her now falling to her lap. "Who has the honor of waking me up on this dreadful morning?" She questioned, her eyes still closed.

Beyond the darkness of her own eyelids Sabrina heard Chandler Bing's voice, loud and clear, from somewhere in front of her. "No sudden moves," He advised to whoever was with him. "Maybe she won't see us."

And then Sabrina's eyes snapped open. In front of her Chandler, Joey and Rachel were all gathered in the kitchen, the two boys seated at the table while the girl made coffee. "I don't need to see you. I hear you loud and clear," Sabrina sneered through gritted teeth.

Chandler scoffed while Rachel sent her an apologetic look with her hazel brown doe eyes. "Sorry, Sabrina," She murmured softly. "Do you want a cup of coffee?" Sabrina merely nodded, finding that the more she talked the more her head hurt. Pushing the tiny garbage can beside the couch out of her way, Sabrina stiffly clambered to her feet and went into the kitchen to sit in the spare seat at the table beside Joey.

Shockingly, even at what felt like the crack of dawn to Sabrina, Joey Tribbiani was still smirking. He always seemed to be sending his smirks in her direction, too. "You look pretty," He teased.

Sabrina's eyes narrowed at the cheeky Italian. "Bite me."

Not missing a beat, Joey rose a hand and motioned to the rat's nest atop her head. "I really like what you've done with your hair," He told her.

Sabrina scoffed, eyeing Joey up and down. Somehow, he looked even better than he did the night prior, (from what she could remember) which Sabrina found nearly impossible to believe. How could Joey look as good as he did right now when he should have been suffering through a hangover, too? Surely, he had drunk as much as she had. Right? Sabrina shook her head in disbelief and laid her hands flat on the tabletop. "Do you not feel sick at all?" She questioned incredibly. Joey merely shook his head in response and she instantly looked to her other friend. "Chandler?"

Though Chandler's face lacked a little bit of color, he was still dressed decently (with a tie!) and seemed more than prepared to take on the day. "Oh, I'm used to feeling dead inside," He insisted. "This is just another Sunday morning for me."

"Unbelievable," Sabrina huffed.

Joey chuckled. "We can't help that you can't handle your liquor."

"Oh, I can handle my liquor just fine," Sabrina retorted stubbornly. "And, you should know, that I would be handling my hangover just fine, too, but you forgot to give me my Advil before I went to bed. If I don't have my Advil, then I die."

"Hey, you're just lucky I knew to take you to Monica's instead of up to Adrienne's," Joey snickered, crossing his bare arms tightly over his chest.

Across the table, Chandler shivered and his right eye twitched. "You only make that mistake once."

The three friends all clenched their eyes shut, trying to block out the horrid memories coming back to light. Even though the older Munoz sister could be fun when she wanted to, Adrienne was still very much a hailstorm and they all feared her newfound mama bear rage. Thankfully, the nightmare of Sabrina's sister's wrath did not last long for the silence of the kitchen was broken as Rachel excitedly crossed back over to the table with three mugs and a large pitcher of fresh coffee. Rachel beamed as she passed the full cups around to each of her new friends. "Isn't this amazing?" She gushed. "I mean, I have never made coffee before in my entire life."

"Really?" Sabrina questioned, looking up at Rachel in surprise.

"Really!" She confirmed.

Sabrina could almost laugh at how proud the girl was of herself. "What do you know," She shrugged. "You learn something new every day."

"And that is amazing," Chandler droned.

"Yeah, congratulations," Joey agreed, smiling flirtatiously up at Rachel. "Listen, while you're on a roll, if you feel like you've got to make, like, a Western omelet or something . . ."

Sabrina did not—could not—wait to hear the rest of Joey's sentence. Upon taking a single drink of her coffee, a taste so bitter and disgusting flooded her system and her stomach instantly recoiled into a thousand tight knots. Before she was aware of what she was even doing, Sabrina was loudly shoving back her chair and rising to her feet in alarm. With two hands clamped over her mouth and vomit slowly crawling up her throat, the young hungover girl sprinted into the single bathroom to empty her stomach.

Meanwhile, when Rachel was not looking—the new girl having chased after Sabrina to ensure that she was okay—Joey and Chandler hastily dumped their full cups of coffee into the lone houseplant resting in the center of the kitchen table. "Although, actually, I'm really not that hungry," Joey decided painfully, his taste buds screaming from the horrific coffee taste that now lingered in his own mouth.

Minutes later, Sabrina returned back to the kitchen, understandably looking even worse than before. Funnily enough, she had ditched her own clothes for a spare purple robe that had been hanging on the back of the bathroom door. As she approached the table, none of the friends said a word about her new attire but Rachel was still watching Sabrina with extreme concern, as if waiting for her to suddenly blow chunks again.

"Oh, God." Rachel's face fell. "That wasn't because of the coffee, was it?"

Sabrina winced as she sat back down. "I hope not."

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but then her eyes drifted over the top of Sabrina's head to where she could see Monica's door opening. "Morning," She chirped brightly. Before Monica could even properly step over the threshold and into the living room, another male figure wearing a familiar navy-blue blazer was following out behind her. "Oh, good morning."

Sabrina slowly turned at the sight of Paul the Wine Guy entering the room. "Morning, Paul."

"Hey, Paul," Joey greeted smugly.

Paul the Wine Guy mumbled out a soft greeting of his own to the small group of friends, but otherwise kept his head down as he made his way to the door with Monica, likely very much aware of all the eyes that were following him. And, of course, unable to help himself with the awkwardness of the situation, Chandler smirked. "Paul, was it?" He called after their retreating figures.

Once more, Sabrina's eyes narrowed as she turned to look at Chandler in disgust. "I'm too hungover for you," She muttered.

Chandler merely grinned back at her and reached out to ruffle the madness that was her hair, but she quickly snapped her teeth in his direction, daring him to try and get close to her. Thankfully, before a full-on brawl could ensue between the pair, Sabrina's attention was pulled towards the hushed voices at the door as Monica and Paul conversed privately about their intimate night shared together.

(Of course, private, was a word unheard to the friend group.)

As if all running on the same current, Joey, Chandler and Rachel all grabbed an edge of the table and hastily pushed it forward so that they could nonchalantly eavesdrop, while seemingly remaining in place. Sabrina, though intrigued by the mysterious discussion, was too lazy to bother moving and remained sitting in her chair even long after the table had been pulled away from her. With her arms crossed lazily over her chest, she waited in bated silence as Monica finally bid Paul farewell with a long, lingering kiss and then closed the apartment door once more, leaning back against it in glee as she did so.

Joey was first to break Monica's daydream. "That wasn't a real date, huh?!" He demanded. "What the hell do you do on a real date?"

Monica rolled her eyes. "Shut up, and put my table back," She ordered.

The three friends quickly followed her instruction, guiding the table back so that it softly smacked against Sabrina's uneasy stomach and she let out a small moan as her head dropped down onto the table. Rachel placed a soft, comforting hand on her shoulder while Joey reached out with a single friendly hand and squeezed at the back of her neck, gently massaging her with warm fingers as she whined into the wood.

"All right, kids," Chandler sighed dejectedly, rising from the table. "I've got to get to work. If I don't input those numbers—well, it doesn't make much of a difference."

Sabrina frowned. "But it's a Sunday?"

"Yeah, but we're behind on . . . I actually don't know what we're behind on," Chandler admitted, frowning. "Anyways, all I know is I'm getting paid overtime, and I'll get off early tomorrow because of it."

Sabrina nodded her head in understanding, keeping her cheek flat against the cold tabletop. Joey was still squeezing her neck and she was most certainly not about to move, in fear of losing the small piece of comfort that was being granted to her in a world otherwise consumed by pain and nausea. From the corner of her eye that was not peeled to the table, Sabrina smiled gratefully up at Joey and he instantly sent a small, reassuring smile back as he continued to rub her.

Leaning against the back of the couch that lined the living room, Rachel, who was the only one still drinking her own coffee, tilted her head to the side in curiosity. "So, like, you guys all have jobs?" She inquired.

Monica poked her head out from behind the open refrigerator door and sent Rachel an unsure look. "Yeah . . . We all have jobs," She answered. "See, that's how we buy stuff."

"If there's any money left after bills," Sabrina muttered in annoyance, causing Rachel to frown. "I'm a teacher," She quickly added. "But sometimes I think I would have been better off as a bartender. At least then I'd get some tips."

Joey finally let his hand drop from Sabrina's neck. "I'm an actor," He informed, grinning proudly.

Rachel's eyes suddenly lit up in wonder. "Wow!" She gasped. "Would I have seen you in anything?"

Joey's nose scrunched and he shrugged his shoulders. "I doubt it," He answered truthfully. Because while he was an actor, Joey Tribbiani and his friends all knew that he still had a long, long climb before he reached the big screens. "It's mostly regional work."

Monica's eyes widened briefly, and she rose a hand. "Oh wait, wait, unless you happened to catch the Reruns' production of Pinocchio, at the little theater in the park," She interrupted playfully.

Sabrina chuckled to herself and Joey rolled his eyes at her growing grin. She remembered that play very, very vividly, and shall she just say now that Joey was not meant to play Pinocchio? While he had certainly been a sight to behold in tiny trousers that hugged all the wrong places, that was where the entertainment had stopped. Nonetheless, she had made sure to give a standing ovation when the train wreck was all over. As Sabrina looked back up to the man of the hour, Joey seemed to be focusing on the same horrific memories, too, and glared at Monica for even daring to bring it up. "Look, it was a job all right?" He defended.

Chandler waved a hand, feigning a very dramatic expression, as if he were standing atop a stage of his own rather than still in Monica's kitchen. "'Look, Geppetto, I'm a real live boy'," He mocked in a high woodland voice.

Joey smiled back at Chandler, though it did not reach his eyes. In fact, it seemed as if Joey might have been planning Chandler's murder and where to inevitably hide the body. Slowly, Joey rose to his feet and waved a finger in Chandler's face. "I will not take this abuse," He argued.

"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry . . ." Chandler apologized. Joey hardly looked convinced, and as he went to the front door and pulled it open to leave, Chandler was instantly leaping forward, waving his limbs this way and that. "Once I was a wooden boy, a little wooden boy!" Chandler's sing-song voice echoed as he danced his way out the door, leaving Joey standing there dumbstruck.

"He's a dead man," Joey decided. And without another word, he was chasing Chandler across the hall and into their shared apartment, promptly disappearing from sight.

Rachel laughed quietly to herself and went to close the apartment door that was left hanging open in the two boys' wake. "Is it always this crazy around here?" She questioned.

"Please, you've seen nothing," Monica scoffed. "Believe it or not, this is a good day." She then stepped away from the fridge and lowered herself down into the empty seat beside Sabrina. The hungover girl still had her head down on the table, and Monica gently reached out to wipe the knotted hair from her face. "How're you feeling, sweetie?" She questioned.

Sabrina blinked. "How does it look like I'm feeling, Mon?" She wondered dryly.

"Like a million bucks?" She teasingly guessed.

"You're funny."

Monica soothingly rubbed Sabrina's back, nearly lulling the girl back to sleep, and then looked over to where Rachel had sat down in the other empty chair. "So, how're you doing today? Did you sleep okay? Talk to Barry?" She questioned, one after another, in hopes of distracting herself from her previous night's lovely encounter. She lifted her hands to her cheeks, feeling them burn embarrassingly beneath her touch. "I can't stop smiling," She babbled.

Rachel smiled back at her high school friend in adoration. "I can see that," She gushed. "You look like you slept with a hanger in your mouth."

After a long moment, Sabrina slowly lifted her head and glanced from her new friend to her old one. Monica truly was smiling like she had never smiled before. She looked so happy, so radiant, she was practically glowing. Sabrina could not be happier for the girl; she deserved to find her knight in shining armor. Perhaps what Sabrina had thought the night prior was wrong. Maybe Paul the Wine Guy was the one for Monica Geller.

Monica's smile only seemed to grow wider in the passing seconds. "I know, I know. He's just so, so . . ." She reached across the table to grab Rachel's hand. "Do you remember you and Tony DeMarco?"

Rachel nodded excitedly. "Oh, yeah."

"Well, it's like that," Monica related. "With feelings."

"Oh, wow, are you in trouble!"

"Ooh, Tony DeMarco?" Sabrina teased, lazily leaning forward on the table. "I have no idea who that is."

"He was a boyfriend of mine in high school," Rachel explained to her. "Great boy, even greater ass."

Sabrina stole a drink of Monica's orange juice, all the while smirking playfully at Rachel. "Well, you can't go wrong there," She chuckled. "I always love me a boy with a great ass."

"Right," Rachel agreed, squealing as if all three of them were actually still part of a clique in high school. After a moment, she squeezed Monica's hand once more. "Hey, want a wedding dress?" She joked. "It's hardly used."

"I want to be a bridesmaid," Sabrina chirped in.

At those statements, Monica rolled her eyes at her two exhausted, playful friends. They were more alike than either of them would ever expect or admit, and the mere thought made Monica laugh. "Whoa, ladies, I think we are getting a little ahead of ourselves here," She insisted, though she would never admit that she secretly liked where this daydream was going. Finally pulling her hand from Rachel's, Monica stood up and went to collect her coat and purse. "Okay. Okay," She voiced aloud, hyping herself up. "I am just going to get up, go to work and not think about him all day."

"Or?" Sabrina butted in.

"Or else I'm just going to get up and go to work."

"That sounds about right."

After Monica had gathered up the remainder of her belongings that she would need for the restaurant that she worked at, she started for the door and Rachel immediately shot up to her own feet, calling after her friend by saying, "Wish me luck!"

Monica turned back momentarily. "For what?" She questioned.

In Sabrina's opinion, Rachel was much more excited than she should have been by the words she spoke next. "I'm going to go get one of those . . ." She trailed off briefly, trying to recount the proper word. ". . . job things!"

"Oh. Well, good luck," Monica hesitantly began.

"You're going to need it," Sabrina finished, dropping her head back down to the table.

And only a short while later, Monica Geller was gone, and Rachel Green and Sabrina Munoz were left to their own devices within an apartment that belonged to neither of them, but felt more like home to the lonely girls than any other place in the world.

☕☕☕

THE REST OF SABRINA'S afternoon was spent grading the papers she had opted to put off until that Sunday. Now, staring down at the mindless sentences that seemed to vibrate and spin on the colorful pages, Sabrina was beginning to think she had made a horrible decision. Unfortunately for her, there was no going back. Tomorrow was coming whether she liked it or not. She was a teacher before she was anything else, and she would be damned if she ever let any of her kids (nor her employers) down. She greatly enjoyed teaching and liked seeing each of her kids' growth—even if that said growth was currently making the hungover girl extremely sick to her stomach.

Rather than stay stuck up in Monica's apartment, Sabrina had decided to get some fresh air and had wounded back up at Central Perk. She knew better than to go to her own home when it came to completing her work. The kids were too chaotic, and Adrienne liked to boss her into doing additional chores around the house whenever given the chance. So, as anyone could likely tell, Sabrina avoided her own home as much as she could. And she did not mind Central Perk one bit; the coffee house had just enough activity to keep her rambling mind focused.

Now almost done with her work, it was just nearing after five in the evening when her friends slowly began making their way into the Perk to join her. Once more Joey was back in his homely spot on the arm of the couch above Sabrina, his lap still the perfect holder for her graded papers. Elsewhere Chandler, Phoebe, and Monica were seated around her, in other chairs and cushions on the floor. Ross Geller, currently the last to arrive, was sitting directly on Sabrina's other side, his fingers softly massaging his temples. Both of them were still nursing extreme hangovers, but with the numerous cups of coffee being served to them, they were slowing returning to their normal selves.

Out of the entire group of friends, the only one missing now was Rachel. In the very back part of her mind, Sabrina wondered if the excited girl had had any luck with finding a job. She knew it would not be easy, but she still had hope that someone might throw Rachel a bone. The runaway bride needed to get her foot in the door somewhere.

"I can't believe it!" Monica moaned exasperatedly, abruptly pulling Sabrina from her thoughts. When the younger Geller child had first arrived at the Perk, she had been a moping mess and now her once loving thoughts of Paul the Wine Guy had turned to those of hatred. Apparently, Paul the Wine Guy was not as honest as Monica had been led to believe and she could not stand to face her new, ugly reality just yet. "I can't believe it was a line!"

Meanwhile the boys—particularly Joey—did not have a hard time at all believing it. "Of course, it was a line!" The Italian laughed.

"Why?!" Monica demanded from her place in front of Sabrina on the floor. "Why? . . . Why, why would anybody do something like that?"

Ross lifted his head and sent his sister an incredulous look. "I assume we're looking for an answer more sophisticated than," He swallowed. "'to get you into bed'."

Monica's hands clenched into fists and she shook her head aggressively, causing both Sabrina and Joey to shake, too. "I hate men!" She bellowed.

"Hey, watch the knees," Sabrina warned, pointing her pen down at Monica. "This paper is starting to look more like a word search by all the accidental lines you're making me draw."

"Forget your lines!" Monica huffed stubbornly. "I hate them!"

Phoebe frowned. "Oh, no, don't hate," She soothed. "You don't want to put that out into the universe."

Monica hardly seemed to hear her and brought her pale hands up to her face, hiding her shame. "Is it me?" She wondered truthfully. "Is it like I have some sort of beacon that only dogs and men with severe emotional problems can hear?"

Phoebe patted her knee and held her free hand out. "All right, come here," She ordered. "Give me your feet."

As Phoebe started massaging Monica's feet, Sabrina sent the latter a sympathetic smile. "Monica, it's most definitely not you. Any guy in the world would be lucky to have you and be with you. You're kind. You're affectionate. You're supportive. You're giving. I mean, you're basically the reason that all of us are still alive, aren't you?" She insisted. "So, Paul the Wine Guy wasn't the one. That's okay. It will be okay. There's going to be plenty of other great guys out there, just dying for the chance to meet you. And one of them is going to be the one. I know it." She rose a hand to the bustling environment around them. "Hell, maybe he's in this coffee stand somewhere, right now, too. You just never know. And that's okay. Because when the time is right, you'll feel it."

(Holy shit. Sabrina had no idea where that came from.)

In the moments that followed, Monica attempted to smile back at her dear friend, but instead she only let out a quiet whimper, the anger finally starting to subside from her small body. "I just . . . I just thought he was nice, you know?" She mumbled.

Before any of the friends could attempt to console her, Joey Tribbiani burst out laughing once more and playfully slapped Sabrina on the arm, sending a new unintentional line spiraling across her student's paper. "I can't believe you didn't know it was a line!" He guffawed, rocking his head back as he laughed hysterically. In the next instant, Sabrina was suddenly swiping the papers from his lap and throwing her pen down in annoyance, all the while her cheeks burned red with frustration.

(That's it. She's had it. And apparently Monica had, too.)

With Monica's hand on his knee and Sabrina's hand planted squarely in the center of his chest, the two females harshly shoved Joey off the couch and watched him go sprawling down onto the coffee house floor with a loud thump. His legs were sticking straight up, the only pieces of his body that Sabrina could see from the angle she sat, and the sight brought her an immense amount of joy. With Joey groaning painfully in her ear as he slowly pulled himself back up to sit beside her, Sabrina returned to her student's assignment, happy and content once more.

"That was rude," Joey muttered under his breath.

"Oh, please, Joe," Sabrina whined, sending him a mocking look. "Do tell me how I can make it better."

"Kiss it?"

"Kiss where? Your ass?"

Joey's brow lifted, intrigued. "I mean . . . I wouldn't have taken it that far, but . . ."

Sabrina was not fazed. "Don't make me push you off this couch again."

"All right, all right. Lesson learned."

Sabrina smiled smugly back down at her papers as Joey rubbed absentmindedly at his elbow. Only minutes later, the Central Perk double doors swung open once more and Rachel Green came galloping over to them, her smile stretching a mile wide as numerous amounts of shopping bags swung dangerously from her skinny arms. "Hey, guys!" She enthusiastically greeted. "Guess what?"

Ross looked up excitedly as the young, pretty girl approached. "You got a job?" He wondered, taking a sip of his coffee.

Rachel snorted. "Are you kidding?" She cackled. "I'm trained for nothing! I was laughed out of twelve interviews today."

Chandler frowned. "And, yet, you're surprisingly upbeat," He pointed out.

Rachel smirked and reached into one of her shopping bags to retrieve a long shoe box. "You would be too if you found John and David boots on sale, fifty percent off!" She replied.

"Oh, how well you know me . . ." Chandler sighed distastefully.

Sabrina rolled her eyes as Rachel staring adoringly down at her new leather boots before hugging them close to her chest. "They're my new 'I don't need a job, I don't need my parents, I've got great boots' boots!"

Monica tilted her head to the side. "How'd you pay for them?" She wondered.

Rachel's voice suddenly dropped an octave. "Uh . . . hmm . . . with a c-credit card."

"And who pays for that?" Monica prodded.

And just like that, the smile vanished from Rachel's expression as if it had never been there in the first place. "Uh . . . um . . . my father," She informed quietly, scratching awkwardly at the back of her neck as she avoided making eye contact with Monica. Of course, Monica could not be so easily beaten and before any of the friends could voice their own opinions, Monica was standing up and grinning slyly at her childhood friend, ready to rock her world all over again.

"Oh, no, Rach. That's not going to work here."

☕☕☕

BACK AT MONICA'S APARTMENT the group of seven was gathered tightly in the small kitchen. Rachel, Chandler, Phoebe and Sabrina all sat at the round kitchen table while Ross, Joey and Monica were gathered above them. All were silent and each pair of eyes was locked on five credit cards spread over the center of the table; atop of the cards was a sharp pair of orange scissors, just desperately waiting to be used.

Finally, Rachel broke the silence, staring fearfully down at her cards. "Oh, God, come on, you guys. Is this really necessary?" She questioned. "I mean, I can stop charging anytime I want."

Sabrina felt for the girl.  She really did.  After all, Manhattan was not a cheap place to live and if she made this decision, Rachel would practically have no money to her name.  Manhattan was an unkind place with loads and loads of pressure.  There were no excuses and no cutting corners for anyone.  Rachel Green would have to leap right into the deep end and hoped that she learned how to swim fast, and Sabrina felt desperately afraid for her.  Even after three years, Sabrina still felt like she was sinking sometimes.

"You know, Rachel," Sabrina bargained. "I will fight for your right to keep your cards if you let me keep one of them."

"Stop it, Brina," Monica commanded, nudging Sabrina sternly before turning back to Rachel. "Come on, you can't live off your parents your whole life."

"I know," Rachel agreed feebly. "That's why I was getting married!"

Several moans of disbelief filled the room, but Phoebe hastily came to the rich girl's aid and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "Hey, give her a break," The blonde advised warmly. "It's hard being on your own for the first time."

Rachel smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Phoebe responded brightly. "You know, I remember when I first came to this city. I was fourteen. My mom had just killed herself and my stepdad was back in prison, and I got here, and I didn't know anybody . . . And I ended up living with this albino guy who was, like, cleaning windshields outside port authority . . . and then he killed himself, and then I found aromatherapy . . . So, believe me, I know exactly how you feel."

(In the fallout of Phoebe's life story, there was a long pause. And understandably so. Even after knowing Phoebe for a few years, there were still moments when Sabrina was stunned into silence by the words that fell from her friend's mouth.)

Ross finally cleared his throat. "The word you're looking for is," He began. "'Anyway' . . ."

Monica took that as her turn to pounce and hastily placed the scissors into Rachel's trembling hands. "All right, you ready?" She questioned.

Rachel shook her head frantically. "No. No, no, I'm not ready! How can I be ready?" She cried. "That's like saying, 'Hey, Rach! You ready to jump out of the airplane without your parachute?' . . . Come on, Monica, I can't do this!"

"You can, I know you can!"

"I don't think so!"

"Come on, you made coffee!" Sabrina exclaimed. "You can do anything!

From behind Sabrina, Joey hesitantly lifted a finger. "Actually—" And then Chandler abruptly cut him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"Come on, cut!" Ross exclaimed, holding a single card up. "Cut . . . Cut . . . Cut! Cut!"

As the suspense in the kitchen began to build, one by one, all the friends joined in after Ross, cheering Rachel on as she finally lifted up the scissors and went to work, destroying any money that she had to her name. "Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!"

Unsurprisingly, Rachel quickly pulled back after the first card had been cut, breathing hard as her cheeks flared a bright, exasperated red. "You know what? I think we can just leave it at that," She decided, panting. "It's kind of like a symbolic gesture . . ."

Sabrina tilted her head to the side, examining the scraps of what Rachel had just cut. "Uh, Rachel," She cleared her throat. "That was a library card."

"And you know what that means!" Ross urged.

"Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!"

Egged on by the growing peer pressure, Rachel let out a loud exhale and went ballistic as she haphazardly cut the remainder of her plastic cards up. As she did so, Chandler let out a tiny snort. "You know, if you listen closely," He joked. "you can hear a thousand retailers scream."

Finally, several moments later, all the credit cards were cut into a dozen pieces and scattered over the tabletop. Several loud, excited cheers soon filled the apartment and Sabrina shook Rachel wildly by the shoulders, congratulating her as Phoebe tossed the pieces of the cards like they were confetti. When Sabrina finally released the shaking, adrenaline-crazed girl, Monica brushed Rachel's wild hair back and was next to pull her into a tight hug, embracing her into the fold that was the many friends' realities.

"Welcome to the real world! It sucks. You're going to love it!"

~~~~~~~~~~

petition for sabrina and monica to get married and let's end this shitshow before it gets too crazy.  just kidding.  little do monica and sabrina know that their husbands are literally sitting right next to them. oh, man, this is going to be so much fun.

but woooo i finally finished the first episode!  it only took me four chapters... wow this book is going to kill me and be like a billion chapters long... yikes, please send help!! anyways!!! hungover sabrina is almost as fun to write as drunk sabrina.  now, that sabrina has mostly bonded with the friends, the only one left to tackle the world with is phoebe! and those two crazy hipsters are bound to stir up some chaos which i cannot wait to dwelve into!  and hopefully we'll get to meet bradley pretty soon because he's a sweet boy who deserves some love! .... just not sabrina's love.

now, i know i keep saying this, but what're you thinking of sabrina so far?? i hope you all like her..  and i hope you all enjoyed this fourth chapter! what are y'all thinking?? what do you hope to see from sabrina and her friends?? i'd love to hear your thoughts and what you'd like to see next! so please, leave some votes and comments because your girl would really appreciate it! thanks for reading!  and i hope y'all are having a lovely day or night.  spring quarter starts up tomorrow and i'm not looking forward to it!! online school?!? rip to meeee.  wish me luck! and i wish you all the best of luck, too, as we all take on this next stage of schooling together.

stay safe and stay well.

--B.