Chapter 18: The One with the Big One Part 2
The quiet of Monica Geller's apartment was a fragile thing. It was a serene surface, a placid pond hiding the turbulent, churning chaos that was the group's obsession with the "Big One." The fake proposal had, for a moment, distracted them, but the mystery of Monica's secret was a siren song, a delicious, irresistible puzzle that they could not leave alone.
Monica, a woman who had a deep love for order, a woman who had a deep love for a good plan, a woman who had a deep love for a perfectly timed joke, was a woman who was, for the first time in a very long time, feeling a sense of profound, soul-crushing dread. The group was still trying to find out her secret. They had not given up. They had not moved on. They were still… they were still trying to find out who the "Big One" was.
She was sitting on her couch, a cup of coffee in her hand, a look of profound, spiritual concentration on her face. She was humming a song about the spiritual power of a tuna sandwich, and the song was not good. It was, in fact, a song that was so bad that it was a crime against music. The group, however, was not listening. They were all too busy looking at a diary that Adam had found. A diary that was, in a very real way, the key to Monica's secret.
Adam, a man who had spent the last several months meticulously curating his persona as a laid-back, sarcastic sitcom connoisseur, felt the walls of his carefully constructed reality begin to buckle. He had a plan. He would not tell them the truth. He would not tell them who the "Big One" was. He would, instead, use the System to guide them down a path of comedic misinterpretation. He closed his eyes, the world of his apartment fading to a soft-focus hum.
[SYSTEM REQUEST RECEIVED. REQUEST FRAMED AS 'UTILIZING A DRAMATIC EVENT TO SHOWCASE LEADERSHIP AND A PROBLEM-SOLVING PERSONA, KEY TRAITS FOR A PARTNER.' REQUEST ACCEPTED. GENERATING 'GUIDE TO A COMEDIC SECRET.']
The holographic interface flickered to life behind his eyelids, the text appearing in his mind's eye with a crisp, digital clarity. [OBJECTIVE: USE A CLUE TO CREATE A COMEDIC MISUNDERSTANDING. STEP 1: FIND A VAGUE, YET MEANINGFUL, DIARY ENTRY. STEP 2: USE THE DIARY ENTRY TO CREATE A COMEDIC MISUNDERSTANDING. STEP 3: USE THE COMEDIC MISUNDERSTANDING TO CREATE A DRAMATIC, TELEVISED-STYLE SCENE, COMPLETE WITH A POWERFUL CLOSING MONOLOGUE. SUB-OBJECTIVE: DOCUMENT KEY CHARACTER REACTIONS FOR FUTURE REFERENCE.]
Adam opened his eyes, a serene, almost conspiratorial smile on his face. He had a plan. He would not tell them the truth. He would not tell them who the "Big One" was. He would, instead, use the System to guide them down a path of comedic misinterpretation. The diary entry was vague, but it was enough. It was enough to get them to believe that the "Big One" was not a man. It was, instead, a woman.
The group's reactions were priceless. They all gasped, a collective intake of breath that sounded like a vacuum cleaner being turned on. They all looked at Monica, a look of pure, unadulterated terror on their faces. "Monica," Rachel said, her voice a dramatic whisper. "The 'Big One' was a... a woman? Oh, my God, I knew it! I knew you had a secret! I knew you were trying to escape your past! I knew you were trying to escape your... your lesbianism!"
Monica, a woman who had a deep love for order, a woman who had a deep love for a good plan, a woman who had a deep love for a perfectly timed joke, was a woman who was, for the first time in a very long time, feeling a sense of profound, soul-crushing dread. The group had not just found out her secret. They had found out a fake secret. A fake secret that was even more humiliating than the real secret. A fake secret that was a complete lie. A fake secret that was a complete, unadulterated, utter lie.
Adam, a man who had just orchestrated a perfect sitcom disaster, felt the walls of his carefully constructed reality begin to buckle. He had a choice. He could tell them the truth and risk ruining everything. Or he could keep the lie going and see where it took him. He looked at Monica, who was still speechless, her face a mask of pure terror. He looked at the group, who were all crying, their faces a mask of pure joy. And he looked at Emily, who was still crying, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated chaos.
He had a choice. He could tell them the truth and risk ruining everything. Or he could keep the lie going and see where it took him. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice. He had a choice.
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