1 The Prodigal son returns(PART 1)

September 1994, JFK airport. Raphael Greene, dressed in a meticulous all-black business suit, moved steadily, his walk bearing the subtle weight of a limp in one leg. His small suitcase trailed behind him, gliding soundlessly on the terrazzo floor. Glancing at his watch, Raphael nodded and brushed aside a strand of light brown hair that veiled his eyes.

With noon still distant, he had time to spare before the late afternoon wedding. Pulling out his Nokia cell phone, he dialed a number. There was only the initial connecting beep, and the call was answered immediately.

"Good morning, Mr. Greene. How was your flight?" The cheerful voice of a young woman came from the other end of the line, exuding excitement for some reason.

"It was okay, I guess. They improved the level of the food quite a bit, so I guess that's good..." Raphael didn't stop for a second as he answered; his expression didn't change either.

"Did you-" He was about to continue when the woman cut him halfway.

"The driver is already waiting, and a suite at the Four Seasons Hotel has been ordered." She said, answering the questions he had yet to ask.

"Thanks Joles, I would be lost without you." He said as he ended the call, putting the phone back into his pocket. A minute later, he walked through the airport gate, nodding at the guard as if he knew him. The guard replicated the gesture for some reason, not really knowing why. There was something about Raphael that made him seem familiar.

Approaching a black car at the pickup area, a young driver in a chauffeur suit opened the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Greene. How was your trip?" the driver inquired politely as Raphael entered the back seat.

"It was good. I got those stocks I wanted..." A brief silence ensued as the driver circled around the car to the driver's seat. "Take me to the hotel; I want to catch a few hours of sleep before the wedding."

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As someone who worked tirelessly for four years straight to get his Ph.D., Raphael Greene desired more than just an ordinary life. However, the day following the announcement of his academic achievement brought a tragic turn – Mike, Raphael's roommate, was killed in a drunk driving accident.

Not knowing how to cope, Raphael went to a pub with a fake ID he had acquired years ago and drowned his sorrows. The subsequent weeks were his worst yet, filled with depression. Mike had been one of his only two friends, and Raphael struggled to leave his dorm, even though he had completed his studies.

When Mike's father arrived to collect his son's belongings a month later, they had a heart-to-heart conversation. Ironically, Mike had initially wanted to join the army, but his parents deemed it too dangerous. This revelation fueled Raphael with newfound determination to achieve the dream his friend never could.

Joining the army at 20, Raphael used his Ph.D. and a fake ID to conceal his age and family ties. He secured a position in a special forces unit as a field doctor, leaving without a word. Deployed to Kuwait at the end of 1990, Raphael's unit suffered significant casualties. Hit by four bullets, he woke up weeks later with a splitting headache, new memories flooding his mind.

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Waking up in the hotel bed, Raphael experienced a cold sweat covering his chest and forehead, haunted by memories of the pain endured during his deployment. After receiving his past life memories, the pain intensified, revealing a first life that was equally challenging.

Sitting up in bed, he clutched a cold metallic necklace with two dog tags dangling from it. A deep breath preceded his departure from the bed, with his left leg grounded for stability.

Opening his suitcase, Raphael retrieved a new suit identical to the one worn earlier, albeit with a white shirt and a black tie. A brief shower washed away the sweat, and he swiftly fixed himself up. Walking slowly towards the elevator, Raphael dialed the phone once again, and Jules' voice sounded.

"The car is ready, though you don't really need to go; she ran away."

"..." Raphael remained silent, revealing a rare, small, mysterious smile, as if anticipating the turn of events.

"Yeah, she ran away on her wedding day... hahahaha!" Jules burst into laughter.

"Then where is she?" Raphael asked, his reaction composed.

"As serious as always, sir. Haha." She paused, stifling her laughter. "She's in a coffee shop named Central Park. The satellite footage doesn't show much more. She entered some random building and then just went there."

"Okay, give the directions to the driver. I will go there myself." Raphael nodded as the elevator reached the ground floor. "As for my schedule-"

"It's empty for the next week at least. Tell me if you want, and I'll make arrangements for a longer period. As of right now, you don't manage anything other than that small restaurant of yours, and it is already taken care of regardless."

"Thanks, Jules, I would be-"

"Lost without me; you are getting repetitive in your answers." She interrupted him again, prompting Raphael to hang up as he entered the back of the same black sedan

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In a cozy coffee shop, four people occupied a table—Chandler, Phoebe, Monica, and Joey from left to right, engrossed in their conversation. Suddenly, a tall guy with wet black hair and a dark blue coat entered, struggling with his umbrella.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed as the umbrella closed on his thumb, wearing an expression as if his world had just crumbled.

"Hi Ross!" Joey, donned in a leather jacket, greeted him with a wide smile from his seat on a plush, green single-seat couch.

Moving slowly toward the group, Ross lowered his thumb back to the umbrella and stood behind the couch.

"Hi," he mumbled in a miserable tone, earning sympathetic looks from the group.

"This guy saying hello makes me wanna kill myself." Joey's smile transformed into a pout, expressing pity in his eyes.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Monica, whose hair color was similar to Ross's, asked as she attempted to calm him by caressing his hand. Ross, however, took a step away from his younger sister.

"You know, I should have known; he knew. And now I feel like someone stuck his hand down my throat and pulled, making me choke on my own lungs." Ross spoke dramatically, gesturing to his chest.

"Cookie?" Chandler, seated next to him on a small mustard-yellow chair, offered a plate to Ross's face, mouth full.

"Carol moved her stuff out today," Monica informed the group as she stood up. "Let me get you some coffee," she added, receiving a grateful nod from Ross.

Sitting down next to Phoebe, a blond lady on the same couch as Monica, Ross sighed deeply. Phoebe, however, frowned and began pinching the air around him, as if plucking something invisible. Ross ignored her, continuing to express his emotions.

"Don't worry, everyone; I will be fine," he asserted, sounding sure of himself. "I really hope that she will be happy."

"No, you don't." Monica, standing on the bar and adding sugar to her coffee, commented with a slightly amused look.

"Of course, I don't. To hell with her!" Ross suddenly changed his tone. "She left me!"

"And you never knew she was a lesbian?" Joey asked, his laughter evident.

But all he received was an awkward silence as Ross covered his face with his right hand, whispering to himself, "I should have known..."

"What do you mean?" Phoebe, having stopped pinching the air, asked with curiosity.

"... well, there's this friend of mine, only a year older than me. He was a kind of genius who finished high school when he was 15," Ross began narrating, earning bewildered looks from Joey and Chandler, their mouths hanging open.

"You talking about Raf?" Monica, arriving with the coffee, asked Ross with twinkling eyes.

"Yeah," Ross gave a glance at his sister before continuing. "Anyway, he met Carol once during a trip to our campus for a presentation he was asked to attend as part of his Ph.D. A few months later, when we decided to marry, I called him to ask if he would come. The first thing he asked me was, 'You know she is a lesbian, right?' I thought he was joking, but I should have known better; the guy never joked..."

A short silence followed when, out of nowhere, Chandler spoke, "Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian," prompting the entire group to turn to him instantly.

"Did I say that out loud?!" Chandler asked, noticing everybody staring at him after a moment.

"Alright Ross, look, you are feeling a lot of pain right now—angry, hurting, ashamed. Can I tell you what the answer is?" Joey, ignoring Chandler's remark, spoke to Ross, who only replied with a slight nod.

"Strip joints!" Joey exclaimed in excitement, met with disapproving headshakes from his friends. "You are single, have some hormones!"

"But I don't want to be single! I want to be married; otherwise, I wouldn't have married in the first place!"

Just as Ross spoke, a young brunette, clad in a wedding gown, hurriedly entered the cafe.

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Well, only gonna post this chapter and next one for now, maybe I will continue in the future.

This ff will follow some of the events of the TV series, with the effects that the mc has on the characters. As of right now, he only knows Monica, Ross and Rachel so their behavior will change the most...