[ vi. the one with the football phone  ]

october 10th, 1994

☕☕☕

"OH, MY GOD, YOU guys! You guys! Guess what! You'll never believe what happened!"

Sabrina Munoz was a frantic, maniacally grinning, wild woman as she excitedly pushed her way into the Central Perk coffeehouse and navigated her way over to where her group of friends sat in their regularly designated area. The young teacher was practically beaming, her arms waving around haphazardly, and was hardly able to contain her joy as she took a seat in the center of the orange couch, shoving her way into the small space between Monica and Chandler with an ecstatic yelp.

"The little people have risen up to take control of the government?!" Chandler gasped sarcastically, shoving a knuckle between his teeth.

"No," Sabrina retorted, "but the little people did do something else that's pretty amazing."

"Well, don't leave us hanging!" Monica chided in from her other side, nudging Sabrina excitedly. "What's going on?"

Sabrina was practically out of breath, having run all the way from the school that was located four blocks south, but she was nowhere near out of excitement. "All of my kids—and I mean all of them—aced their comprehension tests!" She cried.

Small cheers filled the room, each friend nearby giving praise to Sabrina's success. As Chandler clapped Sabrina on the shoulder, Joey's eyes widened with joy, and he reached across the coffee table to pat her knee. "That's awesome, Brina!" He cheered.

"Man, that's so great, Brina!" Ross congratulated from the opposite armchair.

"And, I mean, it's still only the beginning of the school year, but this is a great, great start," Sabrina gushed out happily. "Because I know exactly where to work and focus from here on out, and I know these kids can do it. I'm just so proud of them!" She let out another loud squeal and rose her hands to the sky. "I did that! I did this! I'm actually a good teacher, guys!"

"And we're so proud of you!" Monica cooed, pulling Sabrina in for a side-hug. "We all knew that you could do it."

Sabrina was so giddy with delight that she could not stop smiling. "Thanks, you guys," She sighed. "This all means so much to me."

And it truly did. For the past month and a half, Sabrina had been anxiously fretting over the approach of her students' comprehension tests. They were common for the fifth-grade curriculum, and they were expected by every teacher in every district, but that did not mean they were any less terrifying. She had done all that she could; she had studied every book, gone thoroughly over every approaching lesson, and had spoken with each individual student of hers, working through their strengths and weaknesses. She had learned the comprehension test inside and out without ever truly seeing it and now, finally, there was a calm in the storm. In only a short month and a half, what Sabrina had managed to teach had stuck. Now, there was much more to come.

Because while at the beginning of the year the comprehension test results were merely used as a starting point, the very same test would be taken at the end of the year, and if there was not general improvement by all students, Sabrina would be in a lot of trouble. In the coming months, her career would be put to the test. But for now, Sabrina could celebrate this tiny win. Tomorrow, though—and for the remainder of the school year—Sabrina would continue to balance the tightrope that was her future and the futures of her many kids, too.

Sabrina's bubbly energy continued to seep throughout the coffeehouse as she finally settled back into her seat and took a deep, calming breath. She could hardly believe that in the year since graduating from NYU that she was already this far into her steadfast future. She had not nearly expected to come this far so soon—such success was uncommon in the Munoz family. Sabrina was finally making a name for herself.

(For herself!)

Only a short while later, both Rachel and Phoebe made appearances in the coffeehouse, the former returning from the back of the shop with freshly cleaned mugs and the latter returning from a date downtown. "Hey, Pheebs," Ross greeted, smiling warmly at her. "How'd it go?"

Phoebe's face scrunched with distaste. "Um, not so good," She answered, taking a seat at the counter. "He walked me to the subway and said, 'We should do this again!'"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pheebs," Sabrina consoled.

As the other friends on the couch and surrounding armchairs voiced mutual hums of condolences, Rachel frowned in confusion as she passed Phoebe a sympathy cup of coffee. "What?" She exclaimed, puzzled. "He said 'we should do it again', that's good, right?"

"Uh, no," Monica corrected. "Loosely translated, 'We should do this again' means, 'You will never see me naked'."

"Since when?" Rachel questioned.

"Since always," Joey retorted. "It's, like, dating language. You know, like, 'It's not you' means, 'It is you'."

Chandler nodded his head in agreement. "Or, 'You're such a nice guy' means, 'I'm going to be dating leather-wearing alcoholics and complaining about them to you'," He added dryly.

"He's not wrong about that one," Sabrina cackled, jerking a thumb at Chandler when Rachel stared incredulously. "When I was sixteen, I was really into leather . . . and alcoholics. And I did complain to them about nice guys that . . . really did hold my best interests at heart . . ." She trailed off momentarily, frowning, before laughing—now at herself—once more. "Wow, where did I go wrong?"

"Sounds like when you were about sixteen," Joey smirked, entirely enticed and teasing as the coffee's caffeine got away from him. "But don't you worry, baby, I've still got a leather jacket for you to call home when the Brad-Man finally gets away."

Sabrina rolled her eyes, thinking nothing of his flirting. "Joe, is your coffee spiked again?"

Joey chuckled. "You wish."

As Sabrina finally looked away from the flirty Italian, her cheeks burning with the excitement that lingered from the afternoon, Joey went take another sip of his drink, still as cool as a cucumber. Meanwhile, in the silence of the dying exchange, the surrounding friends could not help but look at one another secretly, as if holding a silently conversation that no one else in the entire world could hear, not even Sabrina or Joey.

Rachel suddenly cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Anyways," She addressed. "So, what you're all basically saying is, 'We should do this again' means 'I'm never seeing you again'? And everybody knows this?"

"It cushions the blow," Phoebe confirmed.

"Yeah," Chandler agreed. "It's like when you're a kid and your parents put your dog to sleep and they tell you it went off to live on some farm."

From the opposite end of the coffee table, Ross' eyes sparked with memory. "That's funny," He chuckled, patting his sister on the arm to gather her attention. "Because our parents actually did send our dog off to live on a farm."

Monica abruptly sat up and looked at her brother with concern. "Uh . . . Ross?" Rather than say any more beyond that, she merely shook her head.

Ross frowned, his words now stumbling out of his mouth as he spoke. "What? Wh—hello? Come on. The Milners' farm in Connecticut?" He attempted to argue, though his voice now faltered. Even Sabrina could see the puzzle pieces beginning to click in the older man's foggy memory. "The Milners, they had this unbelievable farm—they had horses, and—and rabbits that he could chase, and it was—it was . . . Oh, my God. Chi-Chi!"

Without a word, Sabrina lifted an abandoned mug from the table and lifted it. "Well," She paused momentarily, looking around to her many friends that were all staring back at her. "A moment of silence for the 'we should do this again' dates and for Chi-Chi down on the farm. . . And now . . ." The grin could hardly be contained once more. "Cheers for acing tests because I'm a freaking teacher, guys!"

Ross let out a feeble squeak of grief, but everyone else in the coffeehouse cheered loudly for Sabrina once more and quickly downed their own drinks. With several empty cups now shared between the friends, Chandler opted for more drinks, and Rachel hastily set out to make them. Now, with hopefully no more harsh announcements of long forgotten pasts to be remembered, Sabrina and her friends slowly settled back into tranquility. Ross was hardly crying anymore—even though an evident tear streak now clung to his right cheek.

Only a short ten minutes later, as the friends unnervingly began to discuss the sizes of delicate packages, Rachel returned with a full tray of decoratively colored mugs, all holding very different orders for each of the very different friends. " Alright, don't tell me, don't tell me!" She gushed out, eager to prove her coffee handling skills. "A decaf cappuccino for Joey . . . Coffee, black, for Ross . . . Coffee, with cream, for Phoebe . . . Cookie Dough for Chandler . . . Latte for Sabrina . . . And an iced tea for Monica . . ."

Sabrina held her tongue and smiled appreciatively at her new friend as she took the drink that was most definitely not for her. In fact, none of the friends were holding the drinks that they ordered. As Sabrina's eyes shifted away from Rachel, they immediately darted towards her Cookie Dough mocha that Chandler currently held. Hers. And if—so help her God, if Chandler dared to take a sip before he gave it to her—Oh, he was a dead man.

Meanwhile, across the table, Joey was eyeing the drink in Sabrina's hands. Yep, that was definitely his. And Chandler was eyeing Joey's drink. And Ross was eyeing Monica's. And Monica was eyeing Phoebe's. And Phoebe was eyeing Ross'.

Surprisingly, Rachel did not notice any of these suspicious gazes and merely tilted her head, all cute and innocently. "I'm getting pretty good at this!" She cheered. "Good for me!"

(And as Rachel turned her back and walked away, one-by-one, the friends hastily returned all the drinks to their rightful owners with ease.)

"That's better," Sabrina sighed, taking a large sip of her own coffee.

"So much better," Joey agreed, his voice muffled by his own cup.

As Ross, Monica and Chandler all murmured their own agreements, Phoebe merely let out a quiet sigh, barely seeming content with her drink. "Yeah, I suppose," She mumbled.

"Oh, don't worry, Pheebs," Monica soothed. "There's plenty of other guys out there."

At that statement, Phoebe scoffed. "I know there are. I'm not worried about that anymore," She insisted, waving a hand carelessly. "No, no, it's my bank."

Sabrina frowned. "What did they do to you?" She questioned.

"It's nothing . . . It's just—okay—fine, you pulled it out of me. So, I'm going through my mail, and I open up their monthly, you know, 'statement'—" Phoebe muttered with a roll of her eyes. "and there's five hundred extra dollars in my account."

Chandler lifted a mocking hand to his chest. "Oh, Satan's minions at work again!"

"Yeah, I know," Phoebe replied, completely missing the sarcasm in his voice. Sabrina had to bite her tongue from joining in with Chandler. How . . . How could this possibly be a bad thing? "Now I have to go down there and deal with them."

"Do you, though?" Sabrina wondered.

"Keep it!" Joey exclaimed.

"But it's not mine. I didn't earn it," Phoebe protested. "If I kept it, it would be like stealing."

"But," Rachel suddenly piped in, returning to the friend group after dealing with another round of customers. "If you spent it, it would be like shopping!"

Phoebe pursed her lips, her eyes burning with frustration. "Okay . . . Okay, let's say I bought a really great pair of shoes," She emphasized. "Do you know what I'd hear, with every step I took? 'Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.'" She exhaled an angry breath. "And even if I was happy, okay, and—and skipping—I would hear, 'Not-not-mine, not-not-mine, not-not-mine, not-not-mine' . . ."

"That would not be a fun sound," Monica mused.

"Exactly!" Phoebe agreed, appreciation evident in her voice. "And now you see why I can't keep the money. I'd never be able to enjoy it. It's just bad, bad news. It's like—"

"Chandler smoking!" Sabrina suddenly blurted out.

Phoebe frowned. "Well, maybe not that extreme, but—"

"No!" Sabrina interrupted once more. She hastily pointed towards where Chandler Bing now sat in one of the coffeehouse armchairs beside the couch. He was currently bent over the back of the seat, as if he were searching for something in his bag—as if he even had a bag—which he, obviously, did not. "Look, right there!"

At Sabrina's harsh calling, Chandler immediately sat upright, hoping to fall back into a nonchalant position, but by the expression on his face, he knew that he had already been caught. Everyone was already staring him, faces full of alarm at their friend's act. And so, with a steely glare in his eyes directed at none other than the snitch that was Sabrina, Chandler exhaled a long, smoky breath that smelled of raunchy cigarettes.

"Oh, gross!" Monica shouted in disgust.

"Are you serious, Chandler?!" Joey demanded.

Chandler waved a dismissing hand. "I'm smoking!" He snapped. "I'm smoking! I'm smoking!"

"What the hell, Chandler?" Sabrina questioned. "Why?"

"Oh, I can't believe you!" Phoebe huffed, disappointed. "You've been so good for three years!"

"And this," Chandler rebuked, holding up a half-lit cigarette. "is my reward."

"Hold on a second, alright?" Ross protested, staring at his former college roommate sternly. "Just think about what you went through the last time you quit. Actually, you know what? Forget about you! Think about what we went through!"

Sabrina's eyes clenched tight and she shook her head at the disgusting former image of Chandler Bing in her mind from when she had first met him while staying at her sister's for the weekend during her freshman year of college. In her complete and honest opinion, he had looked rather scary upon their first meeting. She had hardly remembered since an image until that very moment, though. Sabrina did not want to remember Chandler that way. He had grown so much since then. This Chandler, the one that in been sitting normally in front of her only ten minutes ago, was the only one that Sabrina wanted to find a home in her memory.

For as much as she despised Chandler, her care for his well-being was greater than her childish want to push him into oncoming traffic. Now, with this smoking, the last thing Sabrina or any of her friends needed was Chandler to backpedal his own life into an unfixable downward spiral. He was their Chandler.

"So, this time I won't quit," Chandler insisted, tearing Sabrina from her thoughts.

"The hell you won't," Sabrina growled back. She instantly rose up from the couch and crossed over to Chandler, freezing him in place with her cold eyes alone. Without a single demand or warning, she plucked the burning cigarette from his loose fingers and tossed it into one of the coffee cups behind her.

"Oh, no!" Phoebe exclaimed, realizing the coffee cup belonged to her. "I can't drink this now."

Chandler frowned. "Look what you just did."

Sabrina did not budge. Without even having to look back at the softened expression of Phoebe, she knew that her blonde friend had already forgiven her. Sabrina never let Chandler's eyes drop from hers as she stood over him. "I just saved your life," She corrected.

Chandler's expression softened at Sabrina's words, but she knew that he would never give her the satisfaction of being right. So, instead, he meekly nodded up at his female friend and remained quiet until she was properly back in her seat on the couch. With her arms crossed angrily over her chest, Sabrina's cheeks were burning once more, but there was no excitement in her heart now. Now, she felt upset and guilty, and like a mother to a friend that should have known how to take care of himself. She hated putting herself in that awkward position of communication, but she could not just let him make such a stupid choice. If Chandler had to be upset with her for the rest of the night, so be it. They would be fine by the weekend. Hopefully.

(If he stopped smoking, that was.)

"Alright, I'm going to go," Monica Geller finally decided, after several more minutes of silence. "I've got a date."

"Is it Alan again?" Rachel teased. "How's it going with him?"

Monica pulled on her coat and smiled softly. "It's going pretty good," She admitted. "It's nice and we're having fun."

"So, when do we get to meet the guy?" Joey wondered.

"Let's see, today's Monday, so . . ." Monica trailed off idly, though Sabrina already knew where this was going. "Never."

"Oh, come on!" Sabrina whined. "We got to meet Paul the Wine Guy!"

"Yeah, come on, Monica!" Phoebe pleaded.

"No," Monica protested firmly. "Not after what happened with Steve."

"What? We hardly knew Steve!" Sabrina pointed out. "You didn't give us a chance!"

Steve What-Ever-His-Last-Name-Had-Been was very much a blank sheet for Sabrina and the rest of the friend group. He had only been around for three days and in those three days all that any of the friends had ended up learning about him was that he had a lisp and that he liked to talk very, very loud. Unsurprising, Chandler seemed to remember these traits better than anyone else. "We loved Schhteve!" Chandler exclaimed, his words slurring as he mocked the lisp. "Schhteve was schhexy!"

"Chandler," Ross warned.

"Okay, fine, sorry."

Monica smiled gratefully at her brother, but otherwise did not seem so bothered by her prying and teasing friends. "Look, I don't even know how I feel about him yet," She insisted. "Just give me a chance to figure that out."

"Well, then can we meet him?" Rachel pressed.

Monica sent Rachel an incredulous look and merely laughed in her face before ultimately turning on her heel to leave. As Sabrina and the others glanced over the couch, waiting her grow closer to the coffeehouse exit, the Munoz girl could hardly contain her wonder. "Was that a yes?" She called to the retreating girl.

"Nope!" Monica Geller smugly replied over her shoulder, not looking back. "Schhorry!"

☕☕☕

october 12th, 1994

ONLY TWO DAYS LATER, Monica agreed to let her friends have dinner in her apartment to finally meet the mysterious Alan. Also, and more annoyingly so, two days later, Ross was still grieving the loss of his long-since deceased beloved pet.

"Just let it go, Ross," Joey deadpanned.

"Yeah, seriously, you honestly thought he was living it up on a farm for all of these years?" Sabrina prodded, crossing her arms.

Ross' face was contorted with pain as he glared at his two friends. "Yeah, well, you didn't know Chi-Chi!" He snapped.

Without another word, Ross Geller launched to his feet and stomped towards the kitchen, leaving Sabrina and Joey alone on the couch. "And, obviously, neither did you, Ross," She muttered in a whiny tone under her breath.

Beside her, Joey chuckled softly and glanced over his shoulder to see that Ross was now complaining to Monica, but she, too did not particularly seem to be listening to him. Finally, Joey turned back around and instinctively lifted an arm behind the couch so that his forearm rested against the back of Sabrina's head. "Hey, Brina," He began. "What do you think are chances are of us getting a slice of pie early?"

At the mention of food, Sabrina's stomach grumbled, and she lifted a cautious hand to her abdomen. "Joey Tribbiani." She looked up to her friend. "Are you suggesting we have desert before dinner? And before Monica's date even gets here?"

Joey smirked and squeezed her shoulder. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting."

Sabrina smirked back. "You had me at pie."

The duo quickly jumped to their feet, but before either of them could take a single step towards the fridge, Monica was abruptly blocking their path and sticking her index fingers in both of their chests. "Don't even think about it," She warned. "Sit back down." As Sabrina and Joey both hesitantly did so, Monica went to stand in front of the entertainment stand so that she could address all her friends. "Do you all promise to be good?"

"Yeah, we promise," Rachel reassured from her armchair by the window. Ross and Joey also nodded, but Sabrina merely tilted her head.

"What kind of question is that?" Sabrina scoffed. "We're good."

"Good at driving people away," Monica retorted with a roll of her eyes.

"Hey, we are excellent judges of character," She argued. "We just want what's best for you."

"Brina, do you promise?" Monica urged.

"If I don't think he's husband material, I won't hesitate to let you know."

"Brina."

"Okay, okay, maybe I'll be good if I can have some pie right now."

"Sabrina!"

"Fine. I'll be good."

"Thank you," Monica rushed out, exhaling a long breath. Then she turned towards the window that was slightly cracked open. "Chandler, do you promise to be good?" She called.

Chandler Bing, who was currently stuck outside on the balcony as he smoked a nasty cigarette, turned towards the window and crossed his heart with his index finger, ensuring that he would be good, too. He then quickly turned away to continue smoking in peace when, suddenly, there was a crackle of thunder and droplets of rain began to fall down on him, soaking his nice shirt. As the weather outside immediately turned gloomier and it began to rain harder, Chandler tapped on the window.

"You can come in," Joey called out to his roommate. "but your filter-tipped little buddy has to stay outside!"

To Sabrina's disgust, Chandler opted to stay outside and continue smoking, all the while now using the lid of a garbage can as an umbrella. Thankfully, Sabrina was not distracted by Chandler's nasty antics for long as the apartment front door suddenly swung open, revealing none other than Phoebe Buffay. The young blonde still looked as disgruntled as she had from two days prior at the coffeehouse as she hastily dropped down on the couch beside Sabrina and Joey to continue her sulking.

"Everything all right, Pheebs?" Sabrina wondered.

Rather than answer her, Phoebe reached into her large purse to retrieve a letter. As everyone gathered around, Phoebe swiftly cleared her throat and read aloud, "'Dear Ms. Buffay. Thank you for calling attention to our error. We have credited your account with five hundred dollars. We're sorry for the inconvenience, and hope you'll accept this—" She broke off momentarily and reached into her purse once more to retrieve a round, sturdy object. "—football phone as our free gift.'" Phoebe then tossed both the letter and the sport-shaped phone aside and looked up to Sabrina and the others with disbelief. "Can you believe this?! Now I have a thousand dollars and a football phone!"

Rachel's eyes were wide as she reached out Phoebe to take a look at the letter. "What bank is this?" She wondered incredulously.

"Rach, if you find out, let me know," Sabrina called from Phoebe's other side. "Also, if you're not going to use it, can I have the football phone?"

"Seriously, Sabrina?" Phoebe glowered.

"What?" Sabrina defended. "It'll look so cool in my classroom."

"You know what else would look cool?" Phoebe challenged. "A giant, karmic debt screaming 'This isn't yours!'."

Sabrina's face fell and she looked down shamefully. "You could have just said no . . ."

Suddenly, the intercom near the apartment front door began to buzz and Monica leaped up, her body alive with nervous ticks. "It's him!" She squeaked. "Someone get Chandler. And please, everyone, please be good. Just remember how much you all like me. Please."

As a soaking wet Chandler was collected from outside, the six friends went into the kitchen to hover as they naturally did whenever there was new company. Sabrina eagerly lowered herself down into a chair at the kitchen table and with bated breath, she and the others watched as Monica went to answer the door. When she finally pulled it open, Sabrina's eyes widened at the sight of the bearded, sophisticated-looking man that waited on the other side of the door. A suit, a tie and an umbrella!

(Who was this guy?)

"Hi," Monica greeted, inviting her date inside. "Alan, this is everybody. Everybody, this is Alan."

One-by-one, Sabrina and the others replied with quirky, little waves, "Hi, Alan."

"Hi," Alan responded brightly. A moment beat on in silence as Alan looked to Monica, and then back to the friends. "I've heard schho much about all you guyschh!"

And one-by-one, slowly and unsteadily, but nonetheless, surely, the Sabrina and her surrounding friends began to laugh. Monica and Alan were already laughing, so why should they not?

Despite the uncertainty and awkwardness that filled the air, Sabrina continued to laugh alongside the others in order to silence the voices of her other potential first impressions. After all, she was confused by the stranger that stood before her, acting and laughing as if he was already one of their own. What had Monica told him? Did Alan truly have a lisp like Steve or was he just joining Monica on an inside joke which made fun of their friend group?

(Regardless of the answer, in one way or another, this was certainly going to be an interesting dinner . . . And the night was still very, very young.)

☕☕☕

AS IT TURNED OUT, Alan was playing in on an inside joke with Monica and, as it also turned out, Sabrina was quite convinced that Alan was an incredible person.

While Sabrina was very much an open and accepting person, there were not many outsiders that she generally allowed to get close to her inner circle. Call her selfish, but there were some pieces of Sabrina's life that she did not like being tampered with from the outside world. No, Sabrina's friends were hers, and hers alone.

But after meeting Alan, she was a bit more lenient to make an exception. Throughout the course of the evening, Alan had interacted effortlessly with Sabrina and the others. He was always laughing or engaging when necessary, while also ensuring his own presence in the room without being over-the-top. He was funny, and kind, and genuine, too. He was . . . He was, in a way—in the only way that Sabrina could begin to explain—everything that . . . that . . . that her own Bradley could never be.

Sabrina felt horrendously guilty for thinking such a thought, but there was no other explanation. Alan was everything that Sabrina had hoped Bradley could be, but ultimately could not. And she hated herself for judging her boyfriend so critically. She hated that she was even thinking of him in such a low light when he was not there to defend himself. Bradley should not have even needed to defend himself from the girl that he loved. That was not right, but even more so were Sabrina's cruel thoughts. Hell, even when he was not anywhere near her, right then and there, Sabrina Munoz hated the mere thought of Bradley Cross.

(And it made her sick to her stomach.)

Sabrina clenched her jaw and looked down to the plate of apple pie that rested on the kitchen table in front of her. She had only taken a single bite, but she was more than full. That was entirely not like her at all. She had been craving the pie since that morning and now its existence threatened to make her throw up.

Beside her at the kitchen table, Joey was chewing the last bite of his own slice of pie and sighed contently. He then allowed his eyes to shift to Sabrina's plate and he licked his lips. "Aren't you going to eat that?" He wondered.

Sabrina instantly shook her head and pushed the plate closer to him. "No, have it," She insisted.

Joey frowned, staring at Sabrina with concern, noticing, too, that this was very unlike her. "Are you okay?" He questioned softly.

"I'm not hungry," She answered.

"Brina—"

"I'm not hungry, Joe."

Rather than argue with her friend, Sabrina hesitantly stood up and went to stand alone by the kitchen counter. From the corner of her eye, she silently watched as Monica Geller bid her date goodnight. The entire purple apartment was quiet for a long moment before Monica finally closed the door, signaling the end of the dinner, and instantly turned back to her waiting, watching friends with intent eyes. "Okay," She addressed, clapping her hands together. "Let's let the Alan-bashing begin. Who's going to take the first shot, hmm? Come on!"

Sabrina glanced to her other friends in the living room, but no one met her eyes. In fact, no one was looking at anyone and no one was saying a peep. It was only when Monica reached the living room that Ross looked up from the stack of cards he was currently playing with. "I'll go," He volunteered.

"Okay, then," Monica challenged.

Ross hesitantly licked his lips. "Well, let's start with the way he kept picking at . . ." His serious facade cracked, and with that, all their expressions inwardly collapsed to smiles of joy and excitement. "No, I'm sorry, I can't do this. Can't. Do. This. We loved him!"

"We loved him!"

"Yeah!"

"He's great!"

Even Sabrina, who still felt the knots curling deeper into her stomach, smiled sincerely at Monica. "I think he would make excellent husband material, one day," She admitted, making her way into the living room.

Monica turned to Sabrina with surprise and playfully reached out to grab her hand. "Wait a minute!" She gasped. "We're talking about someone that I'm going out with?"

"You've got that right," Sabrina confirmed. "He's got the Munoz stamp of approval."

"Wow, I can't believe it," Monica gushed. "That's, like, unheard of!"

Sabrina pulled her friend in for a warm hug. "I know, I just made it up!"

Chandler chuckled from the couch. "I'd marry him just for his David Hasselhoff impression alone," He confessed. "You know I'm going to be doing that at parties, right?"

"Hey, you know what else was great?" Joey recounted, smirking adoringly from the kitchen. "The way his smile was kind of crooked."

"Yes, yes!" Phoebe agreed excitedly. "Like the man in the shoe!"

Ross laughed at Phoebe's comparison, but otherwise went along with it, all the while still staring up at his little sister proudly. "You know what I like most about him, though?" He prodded.

"What?" Monica wondered.

"The way he makes me feel about myself."

The other five friends voiced their mutual agreements and immediately began to dive into headlong conversations about what they had enjoyed most about Alan. As Sabrina lowered herself down into an armchair near the apartment's large window, she stared out into the darkness of the pouring rain and found herself wishing that she could feel the same way about Alan that her friends did.

Now, do not get her wrong. She thought he was a great guy. He was a great guy. And she hoped to see more of Alan in the coming weeks and months. He was a perfect match for Monica, and she vice versa for him. They just clicked in a way that was unseen and unfelt to even Sabrina.

And for that intertwining, unparalleled connection between two strangers, Sabrina Munoz could not enjoy the way that Alan made her feel. Because for that intertwining, unparalleled connection that did not exist within herself and her own supposed love, Sabrina Munoz only felt disgust, shame, confusion and pain.

She felt haunted.

~~~~~~~~~~

sabrina's got a lot of baggage, y'all.  please send her all the light and love in the world.

i honestly was not entirely sure where i was going to go with this chapter, but i really like where sabrina's character is going.  i hope y'all see sabrina as her own character and presence who is very much capable of her own feelings and actions in the group... i really just want her to fall in love with joey right now and get married, why can't that be realistic!!

also, peep joey calling sabrina 'baby'.  i swoon at my tribbiani manssss.... definitely won't be the last time y'all hear that.

anyways, what're you all thinking of sabrina so far?? i hope you all like her.. and i hope you all enjoyed the chapter! so, 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.

stay safe and stay well.

--B.