It’s late—Central Perk is closed late.

You’re sitting on the couch in Monica’s apartment, legs tucked under you, the city glowing faintly through the windows. Rachel sits beside you, curled into the corner, wearing one of her oversized sweaters. The TV is on, but neither of you is watching.

“This day was… a lot,” she says, breaking the silence.

“You say that every day,” you reply gently.

She smiles, then sighs. “Yeah. But today it actually means something.”

You glance at her. She’s fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater—something she does when she’s nervous but trying not to show it.

“Everyone’s figuring their lives out,” she continues. “Monica, Chandler, Ross… and I just—” She trails off.

“And you?” you ask.

She looks at you then. Really looks at you.

“And I keep wondering if I missed something important because I was too scared to try.”

Your chest tightens.

The room feels smaller. Quieter.

“Rachel…” you start, but she cuts you off.

“No—just listen. Please.” Her voice is soft but steady. “You’ve always been here. Through everything. And I never questioned it because it felt… safe.”

You nod slowly. “Safe isn’t bad.”

“No,” she agrees. “But sometimes I think safe is just fear in disguise.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Honest.

Then she asks it.

“What if we tried?”

The question hangs in the air like it might shatter something if you touch it.

“Tried… what?” you ask, though you both know.

She swallows. “Us.”

You laugh quietly—not because it’s funny, but because it’s terrifying.

“And if we ruin everything?” you ask.

Her eyes soften. “What if we don’t?”