AN: I couldn't get this idea out of my mind! It was supposed to be an one-shot, but it ended up being a lot longer than I expected, so here is the first chapter and two more will follow. Thanks for giving this a shot and if you want to, let me know what you think! :)

"How old are you, Monica?"

Little Monica brings her hand in front of her face, folding her thumb into her palm.

"Four." She whispers, not caring that she can't be heard over the chaos of the Gellers' house.

She knows it's her birthday. She doesn't remember her last birthday, but she knows what that day means. She also knows that she became four years old when she blew out the pink candles on her chocolate cake. People have been asking her the same question all day; of course she has memorized the number after all those times she has repeated it.

The old lady who asked her this time quickly loses interest in her. Monica looks at her going away without another word. Her eyes follow her through the noisy living room until she stops and sits near her mommy.

Monica takes a few sticky crumbs from her forgotten empty plate in front of her and rubs them on her pretty dress. Do not run in your fancy dress, Monica. We wouldn't want it to get dirty, would we? Her mommy has told her in that tone of hers that makes Monica uncomfortable.

Her eyes fall to the stain that has formed on her dress and she gasps when someone grabs her from behind. Once she realizes who it is, she smiles, and squeals in delight as her daddy picks her up and places her on his shoulders. He walks her around the room, asking her if she's having fun and promising her more fun later, when they open her presents.

Their moments are interrupted by her mommy's voice, requesting more napkins from the kitchen. Her daddy lowers her to the floor again, leaving her next to Rachel and the other little girls.

Rachel hands her a doll. Monica takes it and instinctively brings it on her chest. She gives the doll a hug, a soft squeeze she so desperately needs from her mommy this day.

But her mommy only has eyes for the dark haired boy who sits attached to her hip in the armchair. Monica looks at them while the girls keep playing beside her.

Her mommy talks with some of the ladies who asked her about her age again and again.

The boy though, doesn't look as proud as he did when he came home from school. He looks rather bored.

He turns his head towards Monica and their eyes lock.

Rachel chooses that moment to grab the doll back from Monica's embrace.

The boy sits up alarmed.

Their mommy glances at him confused, but lets him walk away from their cozy seat.

Ross sits beside his little sister and pokes her knee. He wiggles his hands in his pockets, searching for something.

A piece of paper appears in his hands knd he puts it on Monica's lap.

Monica unfolds it curiously and looks at the simple drawing and the incomprehensible scribblings.

"Here it says Happy Birthday Monica. See? And that's you and me." He points at two stick figures side by side, one holding an unreasonably big pencil and the other something that resembles a book. "You don't know how to write yet, but today the teacher told mommy that I'm doing good at school. I can teach you."

Monica is grinning widely and her arms are around her brother's neck in no time, squeezing him and falling onto him on the floor.

"Monica! Be careful!" Her mommy sounds irritated from across the room.

Monica sits back on her feet, folds the paper and decides to be excited for the rest of her presents. She knows it will be fun; her daddy has promised her.

::::

"Happy birthday to you!"

The singing voices stop and wait for Monica to blow the candles. She remains frozen in front of the cake, the frost and cherries on top of it nauseating her while a few days ago only the thought of a birthday cake made her drool.

"Come on, my little Harmonica!" Her dad's voice takes her out of the haze in her mind. She raises her eyes to his expectant face, but can't bring herself to move.

She feels Rachel beside her start blowing the candles for her. The other girls ? some of her cousins and Rachel's sisters; Monica doesn't have any other friends anyway ? and Ross join her and blow the ten candles together.

Those will be the birthday photos of this year: a bunch of kids around Monica, with happy smiles on their faces, and the now ten-year-old Monica looking like she's about to break down.

Her mom gives her a soft smile and takes the cake away.

Rachel gives her a hug and Monica lets a tear fall from her eye.

She's ten years old. She's supposed to be a kid, but she doesn't feel like one anymore. She might not be old enough to understand why adults do what they do, but she doesn't fail to understand the feelings of the people around her.

She knows she's far from being anyone's favorite person, she can feel it.

Deep down she has always known, but the last few days were the final blow.

She has been learning how to play the piano for years and she's getting better and better. It's not her favorite past time activity, but she likes it enough to keep trying. She keeps trying to get even better. That could give her mom a chance to like her better and maybe even draw the attention her dad almost manages to give her before her mom interrupts his actions of kindness towards her every single time.

That's what she thought before what happened two days ago. It was the evening she played a solo piece in the school's piano recital for the first time. She has played in a recital before, but never alone, never having her own piece and all the lights of the stage on her.

Her parents weren't in the previous recitals. The first time, it happened to be on the same day with the city's science fair that Ross participated in. The second time Ross was sick and they stayed at home. The third time Monica didn't even tell them about it and got yelled at afterwards for "wandering outside so late".

Her solo recital, however, meant a lot to her and she really wanted them to be there. The school had prepared special invitations for that one, which Monica was excited to give to her parents and her grandparents weeks before the event.

Once again her parents didn't make it.

Only her grandma did. Monica saw her before her performance. She didn't see anyone else and she knew. She saw the encouraging smile her grandma threw her way and decided that she would play for her.

And she did.

She played really well, her chubby fingers gliding above the keys, her body moving with the music, feeling the music with every fiber of her being, living it. Making everyone else feel it as well. She got the biggest applause of the night and even after her grandma's warm hug, she felt numb.

When her grandma took her home, her mom murmured an excuse of being busy, having to clean up the house for her birthday and cook for her, because she was "eating so much these days".

Monica ran to her room without saying a word.

Her dad came to her room later that night and had an expression on his face, that made Monica's disappointed heart feel sympathy for him. His eyes were puffy and red. They matched his daughter's perfectly.

Monica lied back on her bed and turned away from the door. Her dad approached the bed and hesitated for a few seconds. He ended up planting a kiss on her hair and whispering that he loved her.

After he left Monica began crying even harder and clutched her rounded belly. No, not eating wouldn't be that bad for her, she was already fat. Her classmates had to remind her of that every day.

That's how she ended up at her party, being the only miserable kid, while she should be the most cheerful.

She eyes the inviting piece of cake her mother has placed in her hands. She doesn't want it. She just wants for everyone to be gone, so that she can be able to sleep in her comfy bed.

Her grandma comes near her and envelopes her in a half hug.

"You can open it now." She tells her with a wink as she gives her a colorful box.

Monica smiles involuntarily at her and looks back at her cake for a second. Despite her stubborn attitude, she knows she'll eat something soon. Apart from the moments she spends with Rachel, eating is what she likes to do best. Apparently, her grandma's present ? and presence ? makes her feel okay as well. So, she takes what she can get and eats her piece of cake under her grandma's loving glance.

::::

"Monica, it's your sweet sixteen! You have to do something!" Rachel says as they're walking back home from school.

Monica rolls her eyes at her friend's words. "Rachel, just because you anticipate your birthday party, doesn't mean I have something to look forward to."

Monica feels her friend's questioning glance on her. How can Rachel not understand?

The answer comes to her in seconds. They've been friends for as long as they can remember themselves. Actually, Rachel is the only friend Monica has ever had. She sees her as who she is inside, not just the ugly fat girl whose classmates are used to mock.

Monica has had a difficult time at school. Every kid insults her on every occasion; most of the times without a particular reason. She knows she's fat. She can't deny it to herself. But she wishes everyone didn't have to remind her all the time of how unattractive and unworthy she is.

She has accepted herself as she is. She's Monica. Not Monicow, not even Little Harmonica that her dad still calls her.

No one knows her like Rachel does and that's why they shouldn't judge her only by the way she looks. She knows it deep inside, but that doesn't stop the hot tears running down her face whenever she feels immense loneliness while Rachel is on a date or at cheerleading practice.

Her mom has always looked at her with a disdainful expression, but her dad has been telling her that she should not change for everyone.

Some days her mom wins. She locks herself in her room and she doesn't come out until late at night when everyone's asleep. She loses herself in the fridge, swallowing whatever she finds in there after spending a whole day without a proper amount of food in her stomach. Every time there's a voice inside her head that tells her that's why she keeps being fat, that it's an unhealthy habit and she has to put an end to it. Every time she ignores the voice and keeps eating.

Some days her dad's kind smile conquers everything. She spends time trying to discover more about herself. She eats with her family and helps with the chores, no matter how many comments her mom makes about doing things wrong. She discovers she likes cleanliness and order and she maintains that wherever she can, even if it's only in her room for the time being. She has stopped playing the piano for years; she couldn't see the point in doing it anymore. She has found an interest in cooking though, and while she is sure that is because she likes eating so much and not for any other reason, she experiments in her grandma's apartment in the city. She visits her grandma more often now that she's older and she finds that she enjoys herself a lot when she's with her. She takes every opportunity to bake cookies or make several kinds of soup and there's been nothing that hasn't tasted delicious so far. But she likes every kind of food, so she's probably not objective enough.

Some days she just doesn't care. She goes to school, eats, does her homework, sleeps, everything in a haze that doesn't let her distinguish any feeling. Her birthday is usually one of those days. Except that there's always some kind of party she has to go through, family she has to be cheerful around. Only family, because apart from Rachel, Ross and a few cousins, no one comes to her birthday parties. And this is the year she wants all of this to stop. She doesn't want a "party" with fake smiles and typical wishes. She wants something real, something fun.

Rachel's voice brings her back to reality.

"But your dad said he's already bought you sixteen candles, right?"

Monica scoffs. That's true. And she knows she won't say "no", no matter how much she wishes she could. She's helpless in such situations; she just has to please everyone, even if it seems that nobody is eager to please her.

She tells herself that she's not going to do it for her family this time. She's going to do it for Rachel. Her friend, who has always stood by her, deserves to have an exciting evening celebrating her sixteenth birthday.

She sighs. "Maybe it won't be that bad after all."

"Yay! It's going to be great, you'll see!" Rachel gives her a quick hug and they continue walking side by side.