Midnight Confessions

A/N- This is set around season 4 when both Monica and Chandler are single. I know there's lots of stories like this (and probably a lot better written) but I had an angsty unrequited love craving and had to give it a go. Don't worry though- it will have a happy ending.

It's pretty much finished but each chapter needs a damn good edit before being posted! It's my first multi-chapter attempt so all feedback very much welcome.

Chandler signaled the bartender with a simple flick of his wrist, "can I get another one over here?""

The bartender simply nodded and poured yet another scotch for the man propping up his bar.

"It's a girl right?" he asked as he handed Chandler the requested drink.

"What's a girl?" he muttered, not even looking up.

"It's a girl that's got you down," he stated taking in the slouched posture, unstaring eyes and the undeniable depression that hung around the man. "When guys come in here and drink alone, it's usually to do with a girl, or occasionally a guy…?"

Chandler narrowed his eyes before snatching the glass from him. He lifted it, listening to the light clink of the ice cubes before he took a large mouthful. He let the liquid assault his taste buds as he contemplated the man in front of him.

"It's a girl," he finally admitted, "but I don't want to talk about it."

He didn't want to talk about it. He couldn't talk about it. He didn't even want to think about it right now. It seemed like all he'd been doing was thinking and agonizing about the woman and it had taken over his life. She'd taken over his life, stolen his heart and she didn't even know about it.

Tonight was about alcohol; lots of alcohol, however much alcohol he needed to forget about his hopeless crush and move on. Crush? Huh, he wished. Unrequited love more like. The type of unrequited love that consumed you and the longing filled your every waking thought and controlled your dreams. The unrequited love where the need and want became actual physical pain.

"Whatever you say buddy."

Chandler watched the guy go serve another customer that had come to the otherwise empty counter. He hated that it was so quiet in here. He should have gone somewhere busy, somewhere with loud music and lots of dancing bodies that would distract him from his current nightmare but he'd already vowed not to leave this barstool until he fell off it.

He downed the drink in one, again grimacing at the taste. It wasn't his usual poison but it was supposed to do the job. The world was starting to blur around the edges but it was failing to mask his pain. He needed more.

"How about another one?" Chandler indicated.

The bartender shrugged and refilled his glass easily. At least with no other customers the alcohol was being served quickly.

"Is it a break up?" The guy tried again.

Chandler just shook his head, wincing slightly as the world tilted with him.

"I thought it probably wasn't," he admitted. "If it was a break up you'd be in sweats or at a strip club…depending on what stage you're at."

That actually brought a hint of a smile to Chandler's otherwise forlorn face.

"Unrequited love," he finally sighed, admitting it out loud for the first time. It didn't help. "She's my best friend and I'm a complete fool for falling for her. Totally out of my league. I mean totally, completely so far out that I might as well be in a little league, ya know?"

He was almost hopeful that the guy did know, that he did understand. That someone, somewhere had also felt this crushing pain because he hadn't. He thought he'd had a painful childhood but it hadn't prepared him for the devastation that he was feeling right now; that he'd been feeling for weeks and it was slowly grinding him down.

He wanted to wave the white flag and surrender.

"You certainly aren't the first guy to warm that barstool over a girl."

"For some reason that doesn't comfort me."

"So what's stopping you telling her?"

Chandler snorted not amused, "how about everything?"

"Sounds a little melodramatic," he raised a skeptical eyebrow, which Chandler tried to mimic. "Seriously why not tell her? If she's your best friend she'll be ok about it."

"No she won't," Chandler took another mouthful of scotch. "I'm a loser- it would just freak her out." He shook his head slightly, closing his eyes as he sighed, "she doesn't like me that way and never will."

The other man shrugged, unable to disagree on the 'loser' comment. It was Friday night after all and this guy was here by himself practically crying into his glass.

"Besides," Chandler's voice sounded strained to own his ears as he tried to encourage the alcohol to take effect and numb his hurt, "right now she's out on a date with some guy that's 'just perfect for her'" he mimicked. "Why can't I be perfect for her? Why can't she see that? Damn it why can't anyone see that?" he slammed his glass down in frustration.

"Maybe she thinks you're gay? You do have that kinda vibe about you."

Chandler glared at the man behind the bar in disbelief. He was young with a sarcastic wit that on any other night Chandler would appreciate and probably even encourage but not tonight.

"Less of the jokes and more of the alcohol," he grouched pushing his glass towards him. He'd lost count of the amount he'd had but he wasn't passed out on the floor yet.

"You know what your problem is?" the bartender interrupted his thoughts, "you've got the hope."

Chandler frowned in disgust, "the hope? Just look at me, where exactly are you seeing the hope?"

"You don't want to tell her as you don't wanna lose the hope that secretly she's high on you too. If you wanna get over her you've gotta tell her. Either, she's crazy about you too and you live happily ever after, or she rejects you, craps on your heart but then you get to move on and eventually meet another girl…or guy…and live happily ever after."

"What?" Chandler asked confused, a little louder than he'd intended. His mind was starting to get a little fuzzy and he was finding it hard to follow the other man's argument. "You actually think it would be a good thing to have her 'crap' on my heart? Are you fricking nuts?"

"I'm telling you," he shrugged. "It'll be better than just hanging in limbo –just look where that's getting ya."

Chandler scowled in disgust as he watched the man walk away to serve another customer. What did he know anyway? There was no way he could tell her about this. She'd be all creeped out and things would go weird between them. She'd be uncomfortable around him and he couldn't stand the thought of that. Then to top it off the others would eventually notice and start talking. Then they'd all find out and start giving him pitying looks and Ross would hate him. The group would fall apart and it'd be his fault.

No he couldn't do that.

"I'm not telling her."

"Then you better enjoy the company of misery," the guy shrugged easily.

"Oh, me and misery are like this," Chandler attempted to cross his fingers, frowning at them when they wouldn't co-operate. Huh, the booze was finally kicking in. To be sure he finished he glass and nodded for another.

The bartender complied looking amused; he was used to guys like this. He often had them come in on his shift; most were harmless and helped the hours tick by. He got a buzz from meeting different characters. He was interrupted from his thoughts as the drunk man suddenly stood up.

"I'm just gonna-" Chandler indicated over to his left as he started to stagger in that vague direction.

"You don't need to ask permission," the guy laughed, "but you're heading towards the cleaning closet. If you'd rather use the restroom it's over there." He gestured in the opposite direction.

"Right you are."

He watched him go with a shake of his head as he entertained himself by clearing away a few empty glasses before he heard the front door open.

"Hey Marc."

"Hey," he turned to see who had greeted him, grinning as he recognized his regular customer. "How's the ex-wife? Still gay?"

"Yep," Ross settled himself at the bar in his usual spot.

"And Ben?" he asked as he poured Ross' usual drink.

"Got a Lego stuck up his nose but other than that."

They shared a smile.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Marc confessed. "We've got a great one tonight."

Ross glanced at the coat on the stool next to him and half filed glass.

"A loony or just drunk?"

"A depressed drunk hopelessly in love with a girl he can't have."

"Sounds entertaining," he mused.

Ross take a sip of his drink when he heard someone stumbling behind him, before collapsing into the stool beside him with a thump. Huh. This definitely had the potential to be entertaining. He turned and blinked in surprise at the man beside him, "Chandler?"

TBC…