Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Aren’t you ever tired of being sad?” Kenny’s been trying to get his friend’s attention, but no dice. He just keeps staring at Wendy. It’s always been about Wendy, Wendy, Wendy. I mean fuck man, can he literally stare at anyone else? Mix it up a little.

“You don’t understand Ken,” Stan sighs opening his locker and beginning to take out his morning books. “She’s just so- so”

“Annoying?” Kenny.

“Bitchy?” Kyle.

“Fat?” At least that last one made him giggle. Stan closed his locker, zipping his bag and looked at the group of assholes he called friends.

“Yes, Cartman, she’s just so fat, I can’t take it,” Stan rolled his eyes slinging his backpack on his shoulder, Stan leaned against his locker, watching his friends get their books.

“Hey man, I tell it like it is.” Cartman was always a truthful person when it came to dissing people that weren’t himself. Pulling his books and his four snacks out of his locker, Cartman zipped up his bag and directed his attention back to the raven. “Listen, Stanley, Wendy’s a bitch. Bebe’s a bitch, hell, all the girls are bitches. That’s just who they are. If you can’t handle it, just dump a bitch.”

“That seems awfully hard.” Stan doesn’t like to admit it, but he knows she’s a bitch. It just seems wrong to say it out loud. “I don’t think all the girls are-“, Stan closes his eyes and inhales, “Bitches.”

”Then you’re lying to yourself, Stan.” Cartman shut his locker and pulled out one of his snacks from his bag. He tried to only eat one, cause those snacks are gonna last him until lunch in like, a whole 3 hours.

”Dude, I’m just saying,” Kenny holds Stan’s shoulder. Stan really didn’t wanna hear Ken out, he had weird advice, but he turned to listen anyway. “Wendy just- doesn’t go with you. You guys are like salt and mustard. Makes no sense. She hurts you more than she makes you feel good. And I don’t want that for a Homie.” Kenny unzips his jacket slightly so Stan can see him smile. To be honest, that’s some solid perspective. Stan was so surprised by the maturity that he almost forgot it was Kenny he was talking to. Almost.

”I mean, you want someone to love you? Just date Kyle.” Cartman nearly spit out his snack and Stan nearly choked. Kenny was still wearing his trademark smile, it just held something more now. 

“Not funny.”

”Never said it was.” That smile was really annoying him now.

”What’s the problem with that?” Kyle spoke for the first time since Stan had his early morning sob hour. Kyle was done with his books and was just watching the interaction before him. He chose not to intervene, but he heard his name, so might as well say something. “What’s wrong with wanting to care for a homie?”

”That’s gay, Kyle.” Cartman puffed.

”No homo tho, bro.”

”Damn, he ‘no homo’ed us.” Kenny was really hoping he could get Kyle to acknowledge his gayness for Stan. Not necessarily sexual, but they were married in spirit.

 “I mean, fuck, full homo, whichever makes you happy, man, I’m here.” 

Stan sniffed, and fixed his bag straps. Kyle really was the best. He couldn’t ask for a better friend. Best friend. Super best friend. Gay bro. Husband. You know what, all those work. Whatever Kyle is, he’s the best. 

“Thanks man, it means a lot that you’d go full homo for me.”

”No prob, babe. I just have one condition.”

That got everyone’s attention. Kenny and Cartman were just confused, Stan was intrigued. Kyle’s conditions were always in his best interest. He’ll remain his best friend if he stopped drinking. They would continue sleepovers if he shut up about Wendy. He would buy him lunch if he respected himself that day. With that perfect history, Stan was ready to do whatever he said.

”Sure, Bro. What condition?”

”You’re not allowed to date me if you’re still with Wendy.” Kyle meant it as a joke, but with Stan, things go from 0 to 100. And Kyle should’ve seen it coming the minute Stan said ‘You got it’ and walked away to Wendy.

”Hey, Wendy!” Stan waved, one hand still on his backpack.

”Oh, Hey, Stan.” Wendy smiled, feeling giddy seeing her boyfriend so happy his morning. “What can I do you fo-“ 

“You the worst!” Stan said beaming, not a second of hesitation. Wendy, Kenny, Cartman and Kyle all stared at the same raven. He just stood there, smile still a mile far. Wendy looked around, eyes shifting at the other students for a sign of a prank or a joke, but saw nothing.

”I’m sorry- What??”

”You’re the worst, and I’m leaving you. Have a nice day!” That’s all Stan said before he turned around and strolled back to his locker, that same stupid smile still on. “There Kyle! I’m free of Wendy, what next?” 

Kyle just blinked. So did the other two. All three of them just staring at the black haired male in amazement. Stan’s smile began to slowly decline from the silence. “Was I not supposed to do that?” Stan asked, looking at his friend group. Kyle too a deep breathe and looked straight into his best friend’s eyes. 

“Stan-“ Dammit, he looked like he was gonna cry and that’s the last thing he needs. Kyle sighed and straighten his posture.

”Not what I meant, but fuck it. Let’s go out.” 

“Yay!” Stan beamed, throwing his arms up. Kenny just laughed while Cartman mumbles about how sick that was. 

Kyle best friend was an idiot, but dammit he made a promise, so might as well keep it. And when the bell rang and Stan grabbed his hand, he didn’t have the heart to pull it away.

Chapter Text

“That’s gotta be the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever pitched to me.” Kyle had to put his sandwich down to even understand what the hell fatass was talking about. They were originally debating the hottest male singer, and it apparently led to Cartman thinking he could totally nail being a Korean Pop Singer.

”I’m telling you! I already sound like Lady Gaga.” He protested, and frankly, Kyle couldn’t ever really tell who he was trying to sing like. It just sounded like Cartman, and Cartman wasn’t what you wanted to sound like.

”In what universe are you Lady Gaga, man?” Kenny added, stealing apple slices from Stan. “I can sing, but I don’t even sound like Lady Gaga.” 

“That’s because you sound like Ariana Grande.” Of course Stan listens to Ariana Grande, the damn bisexual disaster. 

“See! I don’t even get to sound like Lady Gaga, where the hell are you gonna get that kinda voice? You sound like Kyle’s cousin having an allergic reaction to Peanut Butter.”

”That or Clembrane,” Stan chuckled. 

“Oh my God.” Kyle spit out his soda, and Kenny laughed loud enough for the girl’s table to look at them. Cartman was about to argue, but even he laughed a little. “Fuckin’ Clembrane,” Kyle mumbled.

“Hey! That’s not true.” Cartman slammed his hands on the table, standing up in the process. He looked as if he couldn’t tell whether to yell or laugh. And to be honest, he did both. “At least I can at least sing! Stan sounds like a dying giraffe!” Kyle gasped so dramatically, Kenny’s laughter honestly caught everyone in the lunchroom’s attention.

”You dick!” Kyle yelled. “Stan sounds like goddamn Steven Universe! You take that back!”

”Make me, Pearl!” Kenny couldn’t laugh harder. He was choking on the floor. Red stopped right next to him, with her tray and just stared. She wanted to ask what the hell was up, but her question was answered pretty fast when Kyle stood up onto the table.

”This precious angel sounds like fuckin’ George Michael, while you’re over there sounding like a pubescent platypus! You wanna fight me?” Stan couldn’t tell if he wanted to hold Kyle back, pat Kenny, laugh, or run for it. He could probably get away with a few, but he settled on holding Kyle and trying to pull him off the table. “Fight me fatass, Stan, hold my poodle.”

Kyle throw his bag at Stan, making him let go to catch it, but a few seconds of processing made Stan look up. “But Kyle, you don’t have a poodle..?”

”BITCH, I SAID HOLD MY POODLE.”

Stan just held onto the bag as hard as he could hoping a real fight didn’t actually unleash. Just as he thought Cartman was about to step unto the table too, the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over and they were to head back to class. Kyle stepped down and Cartman fixed his bag up. Kenny rubbed his eyes and straightened his jacket, still giggling slightly. 

The walk back to class was quiet, except the buzz of people through the halls. They sat in their seats and sat quietly. 

“So...” Stan started, gaining everyone’s eyes. “Do you... really have a poodle.”

Kenny snorted, turning toward the black haired idiot he loved. “My precious baby, have you never seen ‘White Chicks’?”

”No..?”

”Alright,” Cartman announced, straightening up and closing his eyes. “We’re all going to my house to watch ‘White Chicks’ because we can’t have you living without seeing that movie.”

”Sounds fun.” Kyle leaned against his palm, actually smiling. They talked about the movie until class started and everyone went into class routine. Stan found himself thinking about poodles, doodling little dogs onto his paper.

He got hit on the head by Mr. Garrison for daydreaming, earning him a few laughs and a snicker or two. 

Chapter Text

Butters’ day hadn’t been too great. He fought with his parents, got grounded, forgot his breakfast, left a school book at home, and now he realized that he forgot his lunch box. He groaned, hitting his head on his locker. How could the day escalate that fast. At least he was wearing his jacket, it was supposed to be really cold today. Without thinking, he found himself checking the people around him to make sure they were wearing adequate clothing. 

Tweek was wearing one of Craig’s sweaters, Kyle was wearing an extra set of gloves, Wendy put on a winter hat. Even Bebe wore a real jacket and not her usual off the shoulder long sleeve shirt. He was happy no one was cold, that is, until he saw Ken. He wore the same Parka everyday, visible tears and patches. Butters wondered if he ever changed the outfit under. Butters wondered if he wore anything under.

Nope, nope, stop that thought Leo. Butters shook his head, a blush creeping on him as he collected the things he needed for his morning classes. Zipping up his bag and fixing his hair and jacket in the locker mirror.

To say the least, Kenny was staring. He just meant for a look, a wink or a smile. Nope, he looked and never looked away. Butters wasn’t looking, still checking his jacket and hair, but it was still probably creepy. He should probably stop... any minute now. Right after this... thing. Just gotta wait for-

“Dude, stop staring at Butters. You’re not even staring at me and I want you to stop.” 

“Huh?” Kenny asked, not even looking away or bothering to figure out who said that. Butters closed his locker now and was fixing his backpack before putting it on and walking to class. Ken didn’t look away until he turned the corner. Then he turned to face whoever was talking to him and came directly face to face with Kyle. He practically jumped a mile into the air.

”Jesus, don’t scare a man like that.” 

“I could say the same for you.” Kyle crossed his arms. This little staring thing has started after Butters got bullied a little. Kenny stood up for him just because he was a friend, but for some reason, that smile started something in him. He told Butters he would keep an eye on him in case he got into trouble, and Butters thanked Ken a hundred times. Kenny at first was just keeping his promise. But short looks soon turned into long staring. Butters was just nice to look at, sue him.

”What’s Butters gonna do if he catches you staring? He’s gonna freak. I freak the fuck out when I catch Stan staring.”

”I’m sorry, that you’re so pretty.” Stan said closing his locker and putting on his bag.

”That and your ass takes up so much space, he probably ends up seeing it everywhere he looks.” Cartman got a slap from both Kyle and Stan for that one. Kenny wanted a high five but Kyle slapped his hand away. “But seriously, Ken. I hate Kyle and everything he stands for, but I agree. The staring is fuckin’ weird. Why can’t you just stare at a girl?”

”Or Cartman.” Kyle said flatly.

”Or literally anyone else.” Stan sighed. Stan walked forward to Kenny while Cartman and Kyle yelled about something he was too tired to listen to. “Look man, we get it. You like Butters, but-“

”I beg your pardon, on this fine afternoon, good sir! I do not like Butters. I am a ladies man, through and through. And no man will ever change tha-“

”Butters is getting bullied.”

”W H E R E??” Ken had never turned around so fast. He actually popped something in his neck. He groaned rubbing it, not just because it hurt, but he understood what Stan was getting at. But Kenny was still about to die with his ship. That doesn’t change most of it.

”That doesn’t prove anything.”

”I think it proves many things, Ken.” Stan smiled meaningfully at him, but Ken wanted none of it. “Wipe that grin off your face. I’m gonna say this once and only once, Marsh. I. Do. Not. Like. Butters-“

”What about me?” Kenny nearly fainted. He didn’t even fully turn around. He just slammed himself into the lockers, sliding slowly latching onto them like they were gonna ground him. Even better, Stan’s smile didn’t leave, it only grew bigger. “Golly, that sounded like it hurt. Are you alright, Ken?”

Kyle even walked over because the noise and had to slap a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh at Ken. Cartman wasn’t as nice. He laughed loud and hard. Kenny was about to kill everyone around him, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if Butters was part of that yet. Butters just blinked at him with his big blue eyes, lined with concern. He hated Stan, and his smile, Kyle and his snickering, Cartman on the goddamn floor. He even hated those gorgeous blue eyes for a moment. 

Kenny straightened himself up, cleared his throat and fixed his jacket. “I’m gOod.” 

Damn voice, betraying him.

”I didn’t mean ta scare ya. I’m sorry. I came by because I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be cold. It’s chillier than normal today, so wanted to give you one of my scarfs.” A pure angel. Kenny would’ve cried if his pride wasn't so big. He was still trying to prove he didn’t love Butters. He wouldn’t be able to come back from crying over that smile. He just bounced with excitement on the inside, but with the look Marsh is wearing, he’s probably wearing a little on the outside. 

”That’s real sweet, Butters. I appreciate it.” Saying ‘no’ was not an option with those eyes, so he took the scarf with no resistance. 

“To be honest, I was worried you wouldn’t take it.” That’s new. Even if Kenny didn’t like Butters like that, he was never one to say ‘no’ to the guy. He was worried of hurting him. Butters could ask for anything, his middle name, his wallet, hell, if he asked for his virginity, he would give it to him without a second thought. Saying ‘no’ to Butters just never occurred to him. 

”Where’d you get an idea like that?”

”Just now. You said you, didn’t like me.” That’s okay, he didn’t need his heart. The little blonde was messing with his fingers anxiously, his eyes glossing over, leaving the implication that he was about to cry if nothing was said. Good thing that Kenny’s witty and says something the next second. Oh my god, why wasn’t he saying anything. He felt frozen, every word he tried, wouldn’t come out. Not good for the situation, Butters began to tear up. 

Panic, Panic, Panic. “Uh-“ Welp, this is it. His life is over at 14. He’s had a good run. Kenny takes that back, no he hasn’t. His run was shitty, only luck to change that is if his life wasn’t over. And it didn’t have to be, if he could get a single fucking word in. 

“Butters, I didn’t mean it like that. Stan was jumping to conclusions. You’re a cool guy.” Thank god he got something out. Rocky, but it’ll work. Butters sniffed before rubbing his eyes a bit. He smiled back and Kenny practically melted. Butters giggled at the action and moved his hair out of his face.

”That’s a relief, I didn’t want another person to hate me. It seems like everyone’s like that.”

”Oh they are, you’re easy to hate.” Cartman got an elbow to the stomach for that one. Thank you, Kyle. Butters laughed quietly at the interaction, turning his attention back to Kenny. 

“I hope you don’t catch a cold one of these days. I don’t think I could bare a day with you at school.” That’s it, Kenny’s dead. He knew it. Michael was playing games with him, the dick of an angel. ‘Cause there was no way that smile was real. God, Kenny hated himself to such a new level today. And that’s saying something.

“Have a swell day, Kenny.” Butters  waved, making his way to class before he’s late. Kenny just stupidly waved back, smiling like a moron. He was brought back to his senses by a biology book to the back of his head. 

“Ow.”

”You done, Romeo?” Kyle placed his book back into his bag with a hand on his hip. “Honestly, are you gonna be like that every time Butters smiles at you?”

”I fucking hope not.” Kenny sighed, still rubbing his head. “Can you imagine what that’ll do to my reputation?” 

“You mean improve it?” Cartman got a slap to the back of the head for that one. That was his fifth hit that day. And yes, he was counting. “Stop goddamn hitting me!”

”Stop giving me a reason to-“ the bell rang. They were late. Forget P.E, they’re just late to class everyday, that’s all the exercise and adrenaline they need a day. They were scolded by the teacher and took their seats. Kenny sat next to Butters without thinking about it, until he looked and Butters waved at him. He waved back feeling the warmth grow on his face, but this time did nothing to it.  

Class was boring as usual, only one new thing happened. A piece of spiral paper, crumbled and thrown at him from Mr. Craig fuckin’ Tucker. Against his instincts, he opened it and read it. Let’s just say, he’s never glared at someone with such a red face before.

’Welcome to Gay Club, Fucker’

- Craig

Chapter Text

When it comes to fun, the girls are above their time. They're way more fun than the boys. I mean, all Craig does is watch Red Racer. Tweek drinks coffee, Clyde cries, Kenny gets arrested, Cartman's a dick, Stan drinks, Kyle yells. How is that fun? The girls, however, are so much more interesting to watch. They write stories, star in movies, make fashion shows, paint their nails, bake and even, wait for it; Prank the boys. How is that not fun?

"Spin the pig!" Clyde, Kenny and Jimmy all shouted as Kenny twirled a stuffed animal pig. As the toy spun, Clyde and Jimmy had a 'random dance party for no reason' moment. How cute. The pig stopped and pointed at Craig who was listening to music, arm wrapped around his boyfriend, Tweek, of three years. Tweek was just reading, occasionally taking a sip of coffee.

"Hey, Craig!" Kenny called from across the yard. "Ever kissed a pig before?" He was wearing his hood down, showing off his freckles and blonde hair. His face wasn't as chubby and he had gotten taller, but damn does his voice betray him by not changing a fraction. 

"I'm not answering that." Craig answered back, not even looking up and scrolling through Tumblr. Tweek stopped reading to look at his boyfriend, covering his smile. 

"Guess I'll do it." Kenny shrugs as he kissed the pink pillow. Clyde snickered and took the pig, spinning it on the dirt like Kenny had. Aren't they precious? Spinning a fake pig and kissing it. How weird, the girls were doing something much more interesting than that. They were in a braid circle. Red was doing Heidi's, (Her usual, being Wendy, was preoccupied with something and didn't join the circle), but the boys took her attention. She giggled at them and continued to braid.

"What was that laugh for?" Heidi asked, blowing strands of hair out of her face. "You zoned out for a bit, giggled, then continued. Something on your mind?" 

"Just the boys." Red replayed flatly, looking over at them again. Jimmy was now marrying the pig, Clyde drew in his arms with paint to look like a tux. Kenny was pretending to blow his nose while whispering something along the lines of 'I always cry at weddings.' Ridiculous. "I just think their definition of fun is stupid. I mean, Jimmy's marrying a fake pig. Seems pretty idiotic." Red threw her hair out of her face with a throw of her head. Annie grabbed the strands bothering her and begun to clip them back, earning a 'thank you' from Red. The conversation would've ended there if it weren't for Cartman passing them at that exact second.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Cartman shoved his hands forward several times, the boy's presence grabbing all the girl's attention. "You girls think your idea of fun is, you know, fun?" Cartman was wearing his signature smile and his look of daring the girls to continue the conversation. No matter how wrong Cartman was, it was always hard to prove it. He was a dick, but he was a smart one. 

"Sure," Nicole answered, dropping Bebe's hair in the process. "We have lots of fun. We dress up, talk about school, gossip, bak-"

"Yeah, yeah, don't care. You talking is making this conversation so boring." Cartman rubbed his eyes, as if he had been falling asleep just listening to all the activities the girls do. Nicole ignored it, but Bebe was not about to. She stood up, towering over him slightly. She had grown a good couple inches; Cartman, not so much. 

"You wanna say that again?" Bebe challenged. She was not about to let Cartman ruin her day. She was feeling good and fierce today. No one was taking that away. Not even goddamn Cartman. 

"How 'bout this?" Cartman crossed his arms and looked up at Bebe, wearing the same look of pure hostility. "If you can prove that you girls are so off-the-rails fun in a day, we boys will do a whole day worth of girl activities. If not, the girls will do a whole day worth of boy activities." Cartman meant all the boys, without even asking them. Now, that's cocky. So cocky, Bebe wanted to kick him in it, but unlike him, she cared about her friends. She turned toward them and formed a huddle. 

"What we thinkin' ladies?" Bebe questioned into the circle. Each girl looked at each other, none wanting to speak first. 

"Let's do it." Red announced, every girl turning their attention to the Red head. "This'll give the boys a taste of their own medicine. Not to mention, if we lose, we'll do something that we agree, is fun. It's a bit of a win-win situation." Looks were exchanged, and in the end, all agreed. Red was the one to confront Cartman this time, she walked up, held her hand out and squinted with smirk.

"You're on, fat boy."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

This was the best idea Bebe ever had. The girls gathered all the boys and announced the bet. After a few glares pointed at Cartman, and a few hits, the bet officially began. The girls started with hair braiding. They taught the boys to braid and let them practice on the girls. A few were surprisingly good. Kenny didn't even need help, and he got Nicole! Her hair looked flawless after. It was tight, stylish, and he added gel and glitter to make it look clean and pretty. Bebe was actually a little jealous.

"How did you do that?" She basically wheezed in his direction.

"You kiddin'? I have a little sister." Kenny laughed, throwing his arms over his head to lay on. Next activity was make up. The boys had a little more trouble with it, Cartman looked crazy and Craig's hands were too shaky to line eyeliner correctly. But of course, a few were outstanding. Kyle looked like Jessica Rabbit, and Clyde looked like Ariana Grande. 

"That's not fair." Annie threw at Kyle and his perfect eye shadow. He even straightened his hair, going from curls to gorgeous waves. 

"What? My mom's showed me how to do this stuff since I was little. I would do her make up while she put her shoes on. Saved time and I learned how to shock girls."

"And I've always enjoyed face painting with my mom. Same idea." Clyde smiled while applying lip gloss.

"It's really not," Bebe laughed and closed her mascara. Last one was the fashion show. No one but Token had any sense of style on the boys side. Craig didn't count cause he didn't care and jut wore his regular clothes, minus the jacket. Jimmy had a good concept, but it never came together. Minus the skill, it was a pretty good fashion show. Even Cartman had a little fun pushing people, telling them to be on stage in half an hour. The girls knew they won.

"I've had more fun." Cartman shrugged, and Bebe almost murdered the man.

"I dunno man, I had fun." Kenny tucked his hands in his pants. 

"That's because now you can add to your princess costume."

"Damn right, I can." Ken practically beamed from the opportunities. He now knew how to do make up and change quickly, not to mention, costume changes with the fashion tips. So many options. Kyle and Stan laughed , knowing damn well they were gonna do the same thing. 

"I wanna go home, can't we just say that each person's definition of fun can vary, meaning all activities are as fun as player deems it?" Craig suggested, hoping he could go home as soon as possible. The boys agreed and so did the girls. With that, Craig peaced out, taking his boyfriend and friend group with him. Girls did the same, leaving Bebe, Red, and Cartman. They were in middle school and were mature humans. So, they did what any mature human would.

Cartman stick out his tongue and the girls mocked him. They went their separate way after. Red watched Cartman walk away then looked at Bebe, who was still seething. 

"I'm gonna show him." Bebe promised, looking over at Red. "I'm gonna prove to him that girls are better, no matter how long it takes. He is gonna know I mean business." Bebe puffed her cheeks and held Red by the arms. 

"You do that, hon." Red chuckled with one eye row raised. Man, boys sure were hot, bit girls were always hella cute. Maybe that was just a her thing. Or maybe just a Bebe thing. But it didn't matter Bebe promised her something she'd die to see. So, you can bet she's gonna see it one day.

One day...

Chapter Text

https://hooray-for-being-a-loser.tumblr.com/post/630663166458724352/dont-mind-this-just-need-it-for-something

Honestly, Stan had no idea why Wendy would be mad at him. He had done nothing wrong. All he did was break up with her in front of her best friend with no explanation or back up and left immediately after without a second word or thought...

Wendy always does that!

He saw nothing wrong with it, but he started to suspect Wendy might be mad at him for it. She'd ignore him, throw books at him, glare and even slap him from time to time. So he wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that maybe, Maybe, she was mad at him. But he'd have to do some research first-

"Wendy? Nah, dude, she totally hates you." Ah. 

" Kenny ," Kyle scolded, "Stan knows that. You don't have to rub it in." 

"She does?"

"Oh my god." Kyle froze without dropping his bag with his laptop, coffee and homework. That would've sucked.  "You didn't know Wendy hated you?" Stan just shrugged his shoulders. He had a feeling, but he's only started noticing. How long had she despised him? Girls were so complicated. Why can't they just tell him they hate him like Kyle does? Like, to his face so he can understand they clearly don't like him. He really needs that clarity or else it'll never get through to him. It's the whole reason they don't play Pictionary or Charades. Things never go well and every time, without fail, a table is flipped.  

"I mean, I started to suspect, but I wasn't sure."

"Stan," Cartman sighed tiredly. "You really hurt me sometimes."

"Hey!" Stan shut his locker with a little extra force than necessary. "It's not my fault! Girls need to tell me what the hell they want. I can't just go around guessing. Everyone knows I'm oblivious, fuck, I know I'm oblivious!" Stan announced with vigor. He was always a hand talker, but in times like these, those things were dangerous. All three took a slight step back and hoped not to get slapped as Stan managed to keep talking and flailing without noticing their movement, further proving the point. "Bitches gotta tell me things, or else the day will feel real long, real quick!"

Before he could go much further of why, he felt slightly colder hands grab his wrists, stopping his maneuvering. He looked down slightly to see Cartman holding his hands, but with a fair amount of space between them. He had his eyes closed tight like he was about to be hit and his arms were stiff and stretched as far as they could go. He sometimes forgot about his hand waving. Oops. Cartman let go with a sigh and dropped them. "God, I'm so glad I wasn't fuckin' bitch slapped in the process of getting your attention."

Cartman had calmed down slightly since the beginning of Middle School. I mean, he's still Cartman, he's just not as bad. "I don't wanna listen to your word vomit, just apologize or some shit and maybe she won't hate you as bad. Maybe."

"Maybe." Kenny snickered.

"That's a tentative maybe. Who knows, she might hate you more for taking so long." Kyle jokes, only to realize it could be entirely true. Stan slumped, annoyed with literally every part of his situation. He could apologize, but that didn't feel fair. Wendy got to walk out on him whenever and never have to apologize, but when he does it, he's on a timer limit of how long he has to apologize. It's not just an expectation for him, it's a must. Fuckin' gender norms and shit, makin' him do things he really didn't wanna. Stan leaned more with a sigh, then he was bent in half with a whine, then he slide to the floor with a moan, then he was laying face down on the fake tile with a loud and obnoxiously long groan. Kyle almost stepped on him to shut him up, but decided Stan probably needed to let it out. Not Cartman. He stomped on his butt with malicious intent.

"Get up, bitch. You're in my way."

"What do you think I should do, Cartman?" Stan asked the floor pathetically. Cartman just rolled his eyes and kicked him somewhat hard, earning a pained whimper from the floor.

"I don't give a fuck about what you do, Stanley. I wanted you to move." Stan stood up on his knees clutching his side while Cartman just looked at him. Cartman was the only one in the group that wasn't affected by the guilt card. It mostly affected Kyle, Kenny on the rare occasion, but never Cartman. He was, in Kenny's words, 'Cold blooded'; in reference to the parody 50% Off. Stan looked at Cartman with the best puppy eyes he could manage with a bruised side and a nonexistent will to live. Cartman stared back with a cold glare and Stan immediately dropped it with a huff, picking himself up and grabbing his bag. Cartman gripped Stan's jacket sleeve before he could walk off and make things worse. He sighed and looked at Stan. This is the only time he's helping Stan with his shitty taste in woman.

"Listen, Stan. I need you to understand something. Women may have expectations for you, but not all of them are hard or difficult. Wendy may not expect you to be a Prince Charming, but she at least expects you'd have enough humility to take her to the side and discuss with her why you want to end the relationship. Not that hard. I know how Wendy is, and I know this doesn't seem fair, but think about it. We all know who Wendy is. She's a spoiled, manipulative bitch who takes advantage of people. Something like that is sadly, expected of her.

"But you? You're an angel, Stan. You stand up for animals, you're a peace maker, I mean fuck, man. You try your best to be a good person. What you did was a dick move, and it's super apparent because you're not that kind of guy. That's what pissed her off. It wasn't you, and you gave her no explanation after. Then when she expected a crazy voicemail about how you apologize, you didn't mean it and what not, and then it never came? She probably felt betrayed or lied to. She's mad at what you did and what you did to make it worse, Stan. She doesn't just want an apology now, she wants a big explanation about how you were abducted and you were being mind controlled or some shit. She wants a far fetched reason why you just left. But, since you don't have one, you really need to make it up to her. 

"Stanley." Cartman held both Stan's shoulders with a calm look in his eye. Stan was about to cry with how much Cartman was trying to help him. It was really sweet, and Stan could really see how much he had grown over the years-

"I honestly and highly suggest kissing her ass if you want her to forgive you." Huh? That snapped Stan out of it.

"I'm sorry, what?" Stan blinked. That couldn't be his honest opinion after all that. He literally talked about him like he was the best person on the planet. That was what he came up with?

"I'm dead serious, Stan. You fucked up, you wanna make it up? Kiss your dignity goodbye.” Cartman patted Stan’s shoulder and walked away with a smile. Welp, Cartman gave him his honest opinion, so he was gonna listen. He could lose his dignity easily. He didn’t have any. All he had to do was cry pathetically and Wendy would at least listen. Stan could do this. He could do this.

- - - - - - - - - - 

He couldn’t do it. He fucked up the moment he talked to her. Hey said “Sup” instead of ‘I miss you’ or ‘I’m sorry,’ which resulted in him getting slapped so hard, he woke up an hour later in the nurse’s office with a killer headache. Welp, that bridge was burned forever. He figured so, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth, and it wasn’t just the copper from his bitten tongue. He felt it the entire ride home. His mom wanted to ask, but she didn’t want him to start crying, so she left it be. 

When they got home, Shelly laughed at his bandage, then went upstairs. Stan stayed downstairs to do homework, though he wasn’t really paying attention. He read the same problem over and over before just quitting and sitting at the dinner table in misery. 

“Stanley, honey,” Sharron asked carefully, concern basically dripping off her tongue. Stan didn’t respond, or even look up. This only worried her more. “Stanley, did something happen at school? Did you fail a test? Fight with Kyle?” She offered, stepping closer slightly with each suggestion. Before she could offer another, rubbed his cheek and tasted his teeth a bit. Sharron didn’t think much about the band-aid before, but she certainly did now. Mother’s instinct kicked in faster than she realized when she slammed down her towel and sprinted toward her kid. “Stanley, were you hit by someone? Were you bullied? Let me see, does it still hurt? How long has it been hurting? Did you bite your tongue? Are you bleeding?” Sharron was talking so fast, she didn’t even realize what she was saying, she was just talking.

“I’m okay, mom. It doesn’t hurt anymore, not really.” Stan practically whispered. Sharron looked over at his paper Stan said he was starting 30 minutes ago. It just has his name and date, nothing else. Sharron had never seen her boy this upset in a while. She really didn’t know what to do. So, she kissed his head, stroked his hair and walked to the kitchen to continue making dinner. 

They sat there, in silence for a good amount of time. Shelly would pass by for chips or just to insult Stan. By the third insult with no response, she actually asked her mom if he was okay. He wasn’t sure if he was happy that she at least cared a little. Shelly stopped poking at him. She would pat his shoulders when she walked by. That scared him more than anything. The only thing that made it better was that she was as stiff as he was. Made him laugh a little.

Right before dinner, he figured it would best if he left his mom alone to focus on what she was doing, instead of worrying about him. He pushed his chair out and stepped off the moment the door swung open, revealing the bright smile of his dad about to throw bullshit. ”Sharron!” He proclaimed before stepping into the kitchen. He was carrying two full bags, the label showing they were from a nearby gas station. “Oh my god, Sharron. I went to the gas station after work and found this!” He held out a baseball hat, brown and green, with the bold black words, ‘World’s Okayest dad.’ Stan wanted to say something, but he really had nothing. He was both too bummed and too at a loss of words. 

“Randy.” His mom sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Randy just stood there in the same pose, still holding his smile. It actually made Stan giggle a bit before he began to slowly walk to the door. He was caught by his dad the minute he touched the door-frame.

“Where you goin’, kiddo?” He asked, tilting his head before rummaging through one of the bags. “I got you a hat too! You’ll love it.” He then pulled out a trucker hat, red and blue, with the words ‘Don’t fuck with me. I will cry.’ Stan almost died. Okay, that was funny and accurate. Stan just smiled and put it on. His mom saw the word and was about to say something before reading the rest. She snickered, but then cleared her throat and looked at her husband. 

“Randy, we can't just give Stan something with the ‘f’ word on it.” She crossed her arms to look more mad and intimidating. It didn’t work for the most part. Randy just looked at her with a confused look. He looked at his bags, then his wife, then Stan and back to his wife. He said one word as a response.

“Why?” He shrugged his shoulders, shuffling the plastic in his hands. “The boy’s a tween. He should be able to have a little fun.” His dad winked at him and he really wanted to agree, but he didn’t want to get grounded. He just smiled at his dad, and he got the message and smiled back. “Besides, Sharron, the boy looked down in the dumps before I gave him the hat.” Randy said, holding his hands on his hips with pride at making his son feel better. Well, he was half right. It was more the break of silence that made him slightly happier. The hat was just the  cherry on top. 

“Well, I suppose that is true…”  Sharron carefully agreed. Her shoulders slumped and she held the side of her face with one hand. “Stan wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“He wouldn’t?” Randy sounded bewildered. He turned toward his son with an eyebrow raised and dropped his hands from his hips. “Why not? What happened buddy?” He asked, looking directly into Stan’s eyes. Stan looked away, not wanting to meet his dad’s gaze any further. That’s when his dad placed his bags on the counter, walked over to his boy, held his shoulders and picked his chin up so he would look at him. “What’s wrong, Stan?” Randy urged so gently, Stan almost didn’t remember this was his dad he was talking to. 

Before Stan could lie, he felt himself tell the truth without wanting to. “I broke up with my girlfriend recently. And apparently I did it wrong. Now she’s mad at me so I went to fix it, and she slapped me. Hard. She got away with doing the same thing, so I thought I could, but I guess I can’t.” Stan’s vision blurred with the tears that threatened to spill. Randy caught the ones that did and hugged his baby boy.

“It’s alright, sport.” Randy rubbed circles on his kid’s back as he proceeded to cry unto his shoulder. Stan was close to his height, and at times like this, he was really reminded about it. His boy was really growing up, just the thought made him want to cry. But not now. His boy needed him! “You know what you need?” Randy gently nudged, holding his boy as he lifted his head, sniffling at him. 

“What?” Stan asked with puffy eyes and a runny nose. The boy looked miserable. Not on Daddy Lorde’s watch.

“A boy’ night out.” He beamed, patting Stan’s back. The boy looked down in thought, then let a smile creep its way unto his face. 

“That does sound fun.” Stan rubbed his nose and smiled at his dad. Yes! Grade A parenting. 

“Just you wait, kiddo, tomorrow is gonna be great. After school, I’m picking you and your friends up, and we’re going on a night out. Just us boys.” Stan really smiled at that. He hugged his dad before going to his room, probably to tell his friends. Randy sighed, smiling at watching his boy take the stairs two at a time. Sharron was happy her boy was feeling better, but she was skeptical about this night out.

“Randy,” She started, putting on her excited but worried face that only a mother can pull off. “I’m happy you wanna help Stan out and I’m excited that you boys are gonna spend time together, but I know how you get. You are not to go crazy, alright?” Sharron looked at her husband with a stern look, to which he responded with a smile. 

“I promise, Sharron. Nothing crazy. I know exactly what I wanna do with him.” Sharron smiled and went back to making dinner. He had everything planned out. His boy was gonna be the happiest he’s ever been. 

He promised.

Chapter Text

Stan woke up hard, but not to his alarm, but to his dad throwing himself on his bed. The entire thing jiggled under the pressure of a 14 year old and a whole ass man’s dead weight. “Dad? Wha-?” Stan started, but he had a newspaper thrown at him to shut him up. It succeeded, but he wasn’t gonna accept that. 

“C’mon, Kiddo!” screamed from his position on Stan’s bed. He lifted himself up to make eye contact with Stan. “I have the best day planned, but you have to go to school first. Your mom wouldn’t let me take you out of it. So up. Up. UP.  U P .” He yelled with all his might as he found the sheets of his young son. Cold air hit his boxers and what was shown of his stomach by his shirt. Stan attempted to pull the covers back, only to find out his dad not only yetted them off him, but they were on the floor and extremely out of his reach. Stan sighed and stood up, his hair in a visible bed head. Randy snickered, but cleared his throat shortly after. “I made you breakfast, it’s down stairs. Do your thing and come down to eat.” He said walking out of my son’s room. He held the door frame and thought for a second. Stan had been quieter, but not unresponsive. 

He let go and leaned against the frame. “If you want, I could drive you to school kiddo… I took the day off so it could just be you and me.” He softened in tone, eyeing his boy. His young and heart broken boy. Stan stood up and stretched a little, but said nothing. “Alright, Stan?”

“Okay dad.” Stan basically whispered bending over to pick up his sheets. Randy pursed lips and knocked on his door before closing it and sighing. His kid was bound to be a little under the weather. Randy just had to stick to the plan. So, he straightened up, fixed his shirt and walked down stairs. 

Stan ran a hand through his hair. Yesterday was shit, but he made the mistake of being sad in front of his dad. Knowing him, he’s gonna wanna do something crazy extravagant. At worst, his day is awkward thanks to his dad. At, best, he’ll have such a great day, he might respect his dad a tiny bit. Stan sighed and walked to the bathroom to take a morning shower. Even though he showered yesterday, he felt disgusting. More dirty than anything. Shelly broke into the bathroom to do her hair as he scrubbed his hair, scaring him. She called him a pussy and left, which was weird by her standards. She didn’t even try to drown him, or throw a hair brush at him for existing. 

He got dressed, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair before making his way downstairs. The house smelled of breakfast, but it didn’t smell like something his mom would make. She made eggs and bacon, this smelled sweet, sugary. He turned the corner to the kitchen and saw Shelly right by her dad at the stove. She was making French toast, and the aroma of syrup filled the room. Stan remembered his mom would only make sugar things when he was sad, but this was Shelly. Who knew what she did and why she did them. Stan watched from the door, astonished. His dad caught him first and smiled wide and welcoming.

“Sport! Ready for breakfast?” He was wearing an ‘I’ll feed all you fuckers’ apron even though it didn’t look like he was the one cooking. He had flour on his nose and dough on his arm. When Stan walked further in the kitchen, he saw the array of food plated on the table: Pancakes, bacon, omelettes, fruits and even a few lunch items like chips, lunch meats and cheeses, hell, there was ice cream there too. While he was staring at the table, Shelly set down a pile of toast, both French and not. Stan watched her place the plate and made eye contact with her. She smiled stiffly and went back to the stove. That’s it, Stan’s dead. He knew it, Wendy slapped him dead, like that one kid from ‘The Walking Dead’. 

“Whatcha standin’ there for?” Randy chuckled at his confused teenager. Stan had just been standing in one place for the past ten minutes and he had the same shocked look on his face the entire time. Amusing, but this kid had places to be, so he wasn’t allowed to stand there any longer. Randy walked up to his kid and practically threw him into the table and ordered him sit down and eat as much as he physically could without throwing up. Stan looked at his dad, the table, Shelly, back at his dad, Shelly, his dad and the table. Randy followed his gaze each time. 

Shelly turned around to see her two family idiots looking back and forth between each other and the room. Such idiots. She walked to the kitchen and hit him in the back of the head with enough force that her little brother’s face splat right in the freezing ice cream. When Stan lifted his head, he had chocolate running down his face. He licked it off and looked back at Shelly.

“Am I going to have to bang your head into everything on this table? Just fuckin’ eat it, you dipshit.” Shelly grumbled, grabbing the bowl of chips and taking them with her upstairs after making sure all the burners were off and the house wouldn’t burn down. Stan watched her leave. It was an odd feeling to watch her make a big meal and not even partake in it. Randy didn’t look hungry either. Stan looked back at the arrangement of food and sighed. Looked like it was to him to clear the table. He started at the waffles and poured ice cream on them. He decorated the fluffy cakes with fruits powdered sugar and syrup. 

Randy took a strawberry and leaned unto the table. He wasn't really hungry, he was just happy to see his kid treat pancakes like they were going into photoshoots. He used to invite his friends over and make giant stacks of pancakes and waffles. Each kid would have their own tower covered in butter, syrup and sugars. Air light cakes holding up a child’s excitement as they piled more and more on the soft treats. 

Randy didn’t even realize he was flashbacking until his son called him smiling and face dripping with sugar and crumbs. He looked young again, and he never thought he would describe his kid as mature really. He wasn’t old, but he wasn’t young. It was like a 7 year old with no childlike wonder, as if the world itself was the case. A hollowness you could see, a haunting that followed him. He didn’t really realize until now, but his boy looked constantly drained, down or emotionally tired. You don’t really notice it until you see him smile after what feels like years. 

“So, what’s your plan? You said you had something special planned for me?” Stan rested his cheek on his palm, making eye contact with his dad. He was twirling a berry of some sort with his fork. He didn’t look crazy excited, more intrigued, interested.

“No no no,” Randy laughed, “It’s a surprise.”

“Dad-” Stan sighed.

“None of that either.” Randy pushed himself off the table and walked toward his kid. “I’ll pick you up from school, and then you’ll see. Until then, it’ll have to haunt you.”

“Oh God noooo.” Stan sarcastically said with an eye roll and a small smile. Randy grabbed his kid’s choulders and picked him up. Stan’s shocked face fell when he realized he was just getting hoisted off the chair and not actually picked up. 

“Whatever. Either way, you gotta head to school, kiddo. I figured you might want to go with your friends more than your old man so you better hurry. Don’t wanna miss the bus, do ya?” His dad smirked and walked into the kitchen to make himself some coffee. Stan checked the time and saw he was actually running a bit late. He grabbed two more pieces of bacon before running upstairs, getting his bag, and running back down. He said thanks to Shelly and his dad, getting a huff from Shelly and a hug from his dad. He ran out the door and to the bus stop where his friends waited everyday since they were little.

He ran up to Kyle first, his best friend. When the red head looked at him, he smiled and waved. “Hey dude. How you feelin’ today?” Stan looked at his best friend’s freckled face and smiled back. Something about Kyle always made him feel better. 

“Better, I guess. My dad says he has this big thing planned. I’m not sure if I’m up for it…” Stan trailed off looking forward instead of looking at his friends. A day out sounded fun at first, but now he just kind of wanted to stay home, eat some ice cream, cry, and figure it out. 

“You better be up for it, my dude!” Kenny shouted over Cartman. Eric jumped back at the outburst before pushing Kenny and fixing his hat that had slid off his soft brown hair. Kenny laughed at the push but did nothing as a response, his attention simply going back to the raven. Stan wasn’t facely forward anymore, now he was looking between Kyle and Kenny. “Your dad called all our parents to make sure we could come with you on the adventure. Bitch , I don’t care if you get fuckin’ stabbed at school, you are going on this trip.” Stan laughed at the enthusiasm and looked at Kyle as for confirmation, getting a nod in the process. 

“Well, damn. Alright.” Stan chuckled and smiled. Now he was really excited for this trip with his dad. But for now, school. Stan took a deep breath as the bus showed up. It was one school day, it was 7 hours of pretending to listen. He could do that, he did it every day anyway. He climbed onto the bus and sat beside Kyle as he watched the cars drive by. The cold was calming and peaceful, people walking the sidewalks along the ice and piles of snow. The bus was buzzing with people and noise, it was always nice sitting next to Kyle aside from literally anyone else. Kyle’s calm reading was always preferred to the kids screaming out their lungs. 

Stan put his earbuds in and listened to ‘Mother Mother’, the children became only white noise in the back. He had to admit, it was quite the nice day so far. A hard wake up call from his dad, a big breakfast from his sister, and a warm welcome from his friends. Stan leaned his head on Kyle’s shoulder as the smooth music filled his head. Kyle smiled and took an earbud to listen with him. He should really thank god for Kyle more. He was just what he needed any day, the exact opposite from Wendy… huh, maybe he shouldn’t have dated her for so long. Kyle was right like always. 

The bus’ wheels jumped as they hit the speed bumps in the school parking lot. Wheels rolling to a complete stop before opening the doors and letting the children go. Stan walked calmly out with Kyle in front of him and Rebecca in back. Both reading, but Kyle was starting to put his book away. Stan stepped off the bus, jumping over the last step, and sighing as he fixed his backpack higher on his shoulders. Another day, another depression spiral, and another Wendy problem. He just hoped today he wouldn’t get slapped.

He was shaken out of his thoughts with a light shove from Kyle. He smiled at him so Stan smiled back the best he could. The moment was later ruined by Kenny jumping off the bus yelling something about convincing Bebe to show her boobs and Cartman doing the same but about Wendy. School can’t be all bad if Kyle was gonna at least be near him the whole time. He ignored the feel of vomit up his throat from nerves and continued his slow walk toward the door. He felt the heaviness of the door under his palm and he gently pushed it forward. He scanned the halls, standing in the doorway.

“Dude,” Kenny practically snorted, “You’re not a new kid or a fucking vampire, why the hell are you watching the walls like they’re gonna bully you?” Kenny zipped his jacket back up and walked ahead to annoy someone, most likely Craig. That was his favorite victim. Stan sighed, held his shoulders up and walked forward. Surprisingly, the day went smoothly. So smoothly, he felt all his good luck was catching up and he was gonna die today. He even forgot about his dad’s promise because of all the constant fear that randomly a giant crab would eat him during English. 

As the final bell rang, he put his books up and walked out of his last class, only to run into Wendy. They made direct eye contact for a good few minutes before Wendy just rolled her eyes and threw her hair in his face. Stan watched her walk away and for once, he didn’t have the energy to run after her. He simply fixed his hat and walked away. Each step felt like quicksand, guilt quickly warning him to turn around and beg for mercy. The feeling became overwhelming, to the point where he almost had if not for Kyle’s warm freckled hand on his shoulder. 

Stan lifted his head to look at his best friend’s face. He used to count the freckles when he was little and needed some leveling, hell, he still does it occasionally. It was just so calming. “You good, dude?” Kyle smiled softly at him. He didn’t deserve Kyle, he really didn’t. But before Kyle figures it out, he’ll cherish every moment with him.

“Yeah, man. A little out of it, I guess.” Stan admitted. Kyle giggled and grabbed the back of his jacket to lead him to the doors.

“‘A little out of it.’ Sure, like you weren’t lost so far in space that you’d probably discover beyond icarus.”

“You know I’m not good with history.” Stan laughed.

“That’s mythology, or even better, astronomy.”

“Potato, Potato.”

“Sure.” Kyle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but he was still smiling, which gave him away, pretty quickly. The boys joked a bit more before reaching the courtyard where Kenny and Cartman walked up to both of them. “‘Sup?” Kyle questioned at the intrusion on their conversation.

“Uh- dude,” Kenny unzipped his hood, but kept it on, showing only a few freckles and making it easier to understand him. “Now that I think about it, is it safe to go on a field trip with your dad ? I mean, no offence, but I wouldn’t trust your dad with opening a can of tomatoes.” Kenny asked Stan directly, shifting Kyle’s attention. Stan, looking like a deer in headlights, looked behind them to see that yes, his dad was there. He was on his phone and had his hands in his pocket. Just slightly he could see boxes of things in the backseat, most likely things to cheer him up with. Welp, this was going to be a long night. Why can’t he just conceal all his emotions like Craig does. Seems to work for him, sometimes. 

Stan sighs and shifts his weight to one leg. “Well, my dad said something about it cheering me up, and he said it would work better if you were with me. Didn’t think that far, I suppose.” Stan spoke, staring directly at his dad. His dad looked so excited; excited to help his kid out with his tween struggles. 

“Welp,” Kenny bounced with new energy, “A free ride is a free ride.” He zipped up his jacket and grabbed Kyle’s backpack. “Let’s get this show on the road, pussies!” This night got so much longer. With Kenny kidnapping Kyle, Stan and Cartman strolled over slowly, Cartman not caring and Stan caring too much.

Stan dads looked up at the sound of hard shoes crunching on snow. When he looked up, he saw Stan’s poor friend in his signature Parka, and Stan’s best friend in the world. He smiled and put his phone away and unlocked the car. “You kids ready to party?” Randy smiled wide, his eyes crinkling with shift. 

“You betcha.” Kenny replied, finally letting go of Kyle’s hand. “Now, Mr. Marsh,” Kenny clapped his hands together, seriousness falling upon his face. He closed both hands and pointed at Randy. “What are the rules of party night? Basically, what’s acceptable? Curse words, nudity, porn, violence? Where’s the line big shot?” Stan did not want to know why that was the beginning on Kenny’s list. Randy just smiled and blinked probably needing a second for the question to hit.

“Let me set the stage, little one.” Randy shuffled Kenny’s head, knocking down his hood and revealing his blonde hair. “We have the quest of making Stan happy, Rule number one, act as you would. If that involves beating Cartman, so be it,”

“What now-” Cartman wheezed before being elbowed by Kyle.

“Oh goodie, I was hoping that was on the table.” Kenny snorted and Stan covered his smile, but not before his dad saw it. Cartman fell unto the ground and stayed there while they continued the conversation. With rules set, Kenny satiated, and Stan and Kyle actually excited, they opened the door, got Cartman off the floor and began the journey.

The car ride was calm. Nothing but a bit of conversation between Kenny and Kyle, Cartman sat eating Cheetos and looking out the window. But what bothered Stan was how silent his dad was. He drove calmly and determined. When the car stopped all of the boys looked out the window, only to be confused. “Uh… dad?” Stan hesitantly began.

“Yes, son?” Randy smiled and grabbed the bag at Stan’s feet. He noticed it, but said nothing of it early. Maybe he should’ve.

“Where are we?”

“The junkyard.”

“I see that, my question is why?” Randy smiled slowly and unlocked the car.

“You’ll see.” With that he opened his car door and urged the kids to get out. Carman was the most reluctant, with Kenny the most enthusiastic. As soon as he saw a rat, he ran after it. Kyle walked directly to Stan’s side. The junkyard was filled with piles of trash, TVs, cars, microwaves. The piles reaching the sky with the occasional item rolling off. The dirt and rocks made walking awkward, but they managed. “Alrighty, boys.” Randy called the three children looking over. Kenny emerged from garbage with a rat on his shoulders when called. 

“This is our first stop.” He walked over and dropped the bag. Stan’s eyes widened when he saw what was inside. Bats, lighters, lighter fluid, matches, hammars, hell, he was pretty sure he saw a chainsaw. The kids all slowly looked up at the so-called adult in the area, Kenny’s grin wide and elastic. 

“Dad-” Stan made direct eye contact with his dad, “What is this?”

“Emotional outlets. Ever seen Beyonce’s ‘Hold up’ music video.” He was answered with two looks, a no and a loud yes. “In the song, she talks about how she’s pissed that she was cheated on, while in the video, wrecking everything in sight with a bat.” Didn’t take a genius to see where this was going. Stan was strangely excited, because damn, when has anyone ever been offered a bat and told to go ham?

“Grab anything you like and destroy whatever you like. I even got permission to. Have fun, kiddos.” All four looked at each other and smiled. This was going to be fun. Stan grabbed a lighter and the fluid, while Kenny grabbed a bat and ran straight to an old car. Cartman grabbed the hammer and threw it at any animals he saw. Kyle grabbed nothing. Just watched. 

“Not gonna join in?” Stan elbowed Kyle lightly and got a smile in return. Kyle’s never really been a god of destruction, but with the boy’s anger level, he very much could be. Kyle grabbed the lighter and messed with it, watching the flame appear and leave, taking the warmth with it.

“I dunno.” He said, watching the light burn down again and giving it back to Stan. “It’s not something I’ve ever imagined doing.” He shrugged, looking at the ground.

“Are you really telling me you've never wanted to smash a room to bits before?” Stan smirked up at Kyle, handing him a hammer.

“Well, I mean-”

“Not even when you're minding your own business and your mom decides to yell at you for 4 hours straight?” Kyle smiled back at Stan and took the hammer from his hand.

“Okay, okay. You’ve convinced me.” Kyle laughed and grabbed Stan’s arm to drag him further into the junkyard. Destruction never felt so good. They spent hours there alone, and broke every TV, car window, they threw bricks and watched them smash against the concrete. Kyle was more aggressive than Kenny at one point. That poor car. 

After a picture with the boys covered in sweat and dirt, they walked back toward Randy. The boys were too active to leave their jackets on, so most tok theirs off, with the exception of Kenny who wrapped his around his waist. “You boys done?” Randy asked, unlocking the car and signalling for the kids to get in. 

“Yup. That was exciting.” Kyle smiled, holding Kenny’s arm excitedly. 

“Yeah,” Ken agreed, “Look at all the action I’m gettin’.” Kenny laughed as he pointed toward the hand on his arm, only for Kyle to let go and punched him in the arm. Laughter filled the car as Randy started the engine

“Thanks, dad.” Stan slumped into the seat, feeling much better than this morning. “I really needed something like that. And it was funny to watch Cartman box a raccoon who stole his cheetos.”

“Bitch had it coming.” Cartman glared at the window and made eye contact with the same raccoon covered in powdered cheese. They glared at each other for a solid few seconds before Kenny giggled, causing another laugh train. 

“Yeah, that was fun.” Stan smiled and Randy returned it. It felt good to help his kid.

“Glad it worked out, kiddo. But that’s not all.” All four tweens look up in confusion, Stan the first to speak.

“It’s not?”

“No way, Jose. That’s just one out of many. Seat Belts~” Randy sang before hitting the gas and launching the car forward. Stan immediately held the door handle for dear life. Randy turned the wheel with vigor, the car’s tires screech against the rocks and dirt of the makeshift road. Kyle, Cartman and Kenny were being thrown against the door with the force. Hats flew, books were thrown around. Objects in the car were suddenly in the air and a danger. The reckless driving didn’t stop for another 4 miles, until Randy suddenly slammed the brakes throwing Kenny into the space between the two front chairs. Randy turned to the back of the car with a stretched grin. 

“How was that? Wasn’t that fun?” 

“That was insane, you psycho!” Stan screeched at his dad, turning around and checking on the boys. Ken was lying down on both Kyle and Cartman's seats, while Kyle looked like he really needed to throw up. He was on the floor between Randy’s and his seat. Cartman was still in his seat but more or less standing up and gripping the arm rest. They all looked scared and sick. Stan turned back toward his dad and saw his smile was still on his face. Unbelievable. “You could’ve got us hurt!”

“True, but you lived. That shows you that surely you can live without some girl if you can survive a maniac at the wheel.”

“Nicee,” Kenny snickered. “That’s one way to prove Stan’s just being a moopy nerd.” Stan threw an unimpressed look at Kenny before facing forward again. Okay, he could see where his dad was coming from. He hated the extremeness of it, but he understood.

“Okay, okay,” Kyle said, fixing himself and rebuckling the seat. “That was terrifying, but I do feel alive now. What else is on the list?” Kyle leaned forward holding unto the chair in front of him. “As long as it doesn’t kill me.” He had to make sure that was known.

“Of course. More or less, it’s just entertainment for the drive home.” Randy set the car into drive and pressed the gas a normal amount. The early sunset made the car feel peaceful and homey. Cartman and Kyle started doing things on their phones while Kenny started to doze off. Stan kept his eyes forward, occasionally drifting to the side to either watch the trees, or watch his dad. A good 20 minutes of silent driving and his dad finally spoke up.

“So, kiddo,” Randy said to initiate conversation. He grabbed his phone and handed it to his son. “Got any music ideas? Driving in silence is boring.” Randy asked, not taking his eyes off the road. Suspiciously, Stan took the cellar device and began going through Spotify. He pressed on a band and put it on shuffle. Next thing was a guitar solo and a familiar tune.

‘ Coming out of my cage / And I've been doing just fine’

‘Gotta gotta be down / Because I want it all‘

The song was one Stan had known for a long time, Tweek being the one to show him as weird as that is. He never minded Tweek, good sense of music he had, but for someone so anxious, he listened to a lot of hard drum and rock. Knowing the lyrics to this special song was a must. “It started out with a kiss, How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss,”

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS.” Kenny nearly broke the sound barrier with the noise level. And he interrupted Stan’s singing. The hell.

“Ken, my dude. The hell?” Stan turned around to see Kyle and Cartman were just as surprised and mad at Ken who just sat in the middle with his signature smile. He didn’t answer the question, just leaned forward and took the phone hooked up to the Bluetooth. He opened the phone with ease and looked through Spotify. Unzipping his jacket he scooted toward Randy. 

“Yo, could I pick a song?” Kenny asked, as if he wasn’t gonna play one anyway. Randy laughed and switched lanes before answering, with a signal like a good dad. 

“Sure, kid. Everyone gets to play at least one song.” Kenny slid back and held the phone as he waited for ‘The Killers’ to end.

‘And I just can't look, it's killing me‘ 

“It’s taking control,” Stan whispered the lyrics to himself as he watched as the sky turned a soft purple, the pink and orange mixing in. Clouds drifted slowly and the mellow bass filled his ears. “Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis.”

“I forgot you know this song.” Kyle leaned forward toward Stan. He didn’t look at Kyle, but he did acknowledge him. 

“Remember that Tweek was the one to show us?”

“God, that’s right,” Kyle giggled and leaned back. Arms crossed, he too, watched as the sky flipped into darkness. “Man, that’s weird. I totally forgot Tweek has a thing for rock music,” he commented. As the song ended, Kenny played his song. A whistle was the first melody, Cartman was the first to recognize it. 

“Goddammit, Kenny.” Cartman snickered, Kyle only getting it a few seconds after.

“Oh, fuckin’ stop, Ken.” Kyle sighed as he sat furter into his seat. An echo of an ‘ Ah yeah’ played and Stan knew exactly what songs this was. 

‘ I got one question for ya’ 

“Why are you like this, Ken?” Stan laughed, Randy quickly recognizing the song after. Of course that would be the song Kenneth McCormick, local hoe, would pick. Kenny only laughed at the hyperbole groans and moans from his friends and classmates. The shit found this amusing, and he wasn’t wrong. It kinda was. 

“I got one question for you, Ken.” Stan laughed as he said it along with the tempo. “How could you fit all that in your jeans?” Kyle sunk even further into his seat to stop himself from both hearing the song and laughing at the situation. 

“You know what to do with that big fat butt!” Kenny was having too much fun. 

‘ Wigge, Wiggle, Wiggle’

“Okay,” Kyle yelled, taking the phone away from Kenny and throwing it at Cartman. “You pick something. Anything that isn’t Jason Derulo.” Cartman was at least excited to pick a song, but it was weird why Kyle didn’t just change it himself. Cartman took a second or two to look through the song selection and landed on one, throwing the phone back to Kyle in return. 

‘ Tonight, I just want to take you higher’

“Throw your hands up in the sky,” All three knew this one. “Let's set this party off right.” Just flipping through songs was actually relatively fun. Like, just having an excuse to live is okay in the moment. Just riding the wind, not knowing where you’re going and blasting Bruno Mars, that was a life he could live. 

“Ay, yo, Players,” Kenny yelled, earning a slap from Kyle, giving Cartman the opportunity to finish the line. “Put yo’ pinky rings up to the,” 

“MOON.” The air was filled with laughter after everyone chipped in for that line. Not a bad drive. The sun had gone down by the time the song ended. Kyle held the phone but didn change the song, meaning the playlist continued its course. Justin Timberlake’s voice filled the car and all three boys turned toward Kyle. 

“You're not gonna pick something?” Kenny asked, his unzipped jacket making it a little easier to hear him. 

“Well, I mean-” Kyle started before sighing. He searched through the playlist and picked a random Miey cyrus song to shut them up. Turns out it was the one song Kenny knew by heart.

‘ I hopped on a plane to LAS’ 

“WITH MY DREAM AND A CARDIGAN.” Stan and Kenny practically screamed as they held each other’s hand.  Okay, maybe it was a good song after all. The music played and Stan was handed back the phone. Stan then played ‘Sweater Weather’ by The Neighborhood. It only proved Kenny knew a lot more songs than he let on. 

Randy then instructed Stan to play all of Lizzo for good vibes, resulting in a lot of Lorde jokes and nervous laughter from Randy. The rest of the drive was random music in the background as the four preteens talked and meaningless things. When they got back into a town, the first thing Stan notices is that he is not at his home driveway. The lights and structure only meant one thing. 

“Thank you for coming to McDonald’s, how may I help you?” Stan would’ve screamed if it wasn’t for Kenny beating him to it. Pure excitement was rolling off Ken and Carman. Kyle just sits next to them, telling them to shut up. They got their food with a lot of happy bouncing from Kenny, Cartman and Stan. Kyle just laughed at his friends being absolute dumbasses. 

Eating in the car is not the easiest thing. Fries got everywhere, Kenny dropped his shoe, Cartman stole Stan’s fries and Kyle kicked him hard enough to shake the whole car. They ended at the mall and Randy kicked everyone out of the car. All four boys looked at the building, then Randy, then the building. Randy pushed Stan closer to the door without explaining, opened them for his son and walked into the mall with his friends behind him.

“Okay, boys!” Randy announced to the three middle schoolers. He already had their attention, but now they were listening. “My son got dumped!” That was the end of his sentence. They stood in silence at the mall’s doors for 5 minutes before it got annoying.

“So…? “ Kyle urged him to go on. A little explanation never hurts. Silence again. Randy had his hands in fists on his hips and eyes closed, standing proud and confident. And he has never looked stupider. “We are at the mall for..?” Kyle tried again. 

“My boy got dumped, Kyle!” Randy repeats. Leaving Kyle bewildered and annoyed.

“Yes, you said that.” 

“That’s why we are here!”

“To do what exactly?”

“Because, my boy got-”

“You didn’t have a plan did you, dad?” Stan giggled at his dad’s unprepared flinch. He quickly composed himself and regained his silly posture. 

“Of- of course, I had a plan.” He nervously laughed. A few minutes of silence pass before Kenny snickers. Kyle huffs and places a hand on his hip, forever the sassy little bitch. 

“Well, if that’s the case,” Kenny cackles into his jacket cuff. “Then let me lead the boat this time.” All eyes turn to the scruffy blonde, his mischievous smile stretching to both sides of his face. “So, our boy got dumped, right?”

“Yes, Elle Woods. I think we established he was in the shower.” Kyle at least earned a snort and a laugh from Stan and Eric. He got an eye roll from Ken. 

“Aren’t you amusing. It’s called the introduction to my essay.”

“Uh oh.” Stan was still smiling, but now he was getting nervous. 

“Oh yeah buddy,” Kenny wrapped his arm around his raven haired bro, squishing every part into Stan. The hold was close and unnecessary, like everything Ken does. “You’re part of the chaos crew now! I think the first thing we should do is give you a new look, or get you more comfortable with who you are. We’ll all get you a small thing to show how much we care! Right boys?”

“I guess.”

“Uhh, sure-“

“Absolutely not.”

Stan had to laugh at Cartman’s response. Cartman was always selfish, but it’s gotten at least a little more entertaining as he’s gotten older. But don’t get him wrong, Cartman is still a terrible person. “Well, at least me, your dad and Kyle will get you something.” 

“Whatcha say, kiddo?” Randy squeezed his son’s shoulder tight. Stan was feeling better, but maybe not up to a whole mall spree. Kyle grabbed his hand and his attention. His tentative smile was warm, and his grip was firm but loose. Grounding, but inviting. One more activity with his dad and he could go home, and who knows. Maybe it would make him feel better in the end. Stan sighed and looked back at his father. 

“Okay, one last thing, but I’m getting tired. So let’s call this it, okay?” Randy smiled and side hugged his kid, ruffled his boy and let go.

“You got it kiddo.” Stan is immediately grabbed by Ken and dragged around the shopping center. He throws jackets, boots, beanies and shirts at him. He tries all of them on and isn’t really into any of them. Especially the platform boots, they scare him. Maybe later in his life, but not now. While Ken and Cartman fight in the background about the color orange, Kyle brings Stan an outfit. 

Putting it on in the mirror, he admires the look a bit more. The jeans are tight on his thighs and ass, but still comfortable and movable. The black tank top squeezes his chest and feels loose at the stomach. He didn’t realize he looked so good in black. Next was the dark denim jacket, tight at the biceps. An earth pin at the pocket and green threading along the embroidery. It’s a delicate design and it makes him feel proud. The black beanie and the dog pin to go with it replace his red and blue one. It’s green under fabric really bounces off the black. And finally, black combat boots with blue laces. 

Looking in the mirror, he almost cried. He felt more like himself in the outfit than he had in a while. He feels rugged and masculine, but also loving and inviting. The earthy colors blend with his blue eyes and bounce off his black hair. He could add a chain or so, maybe some bracelets, and that’s him. He can already see all the pins and patches he can place on the jacket, and yet, he feels home with just a few already. 

Damn, Kyle really knew him. Not just knew him, saw him, and really understood him. He knew which pins he would love, which colors really go with him, what pants, what shirt would really feel like him. The deep blue pants, the hard boot, and the soft shirt. 

Looking at his face, his eyes, he could see a shine, and small build up. He felt, home, in this unknown outfit. This new outfit somehow felt more like home than anything he’s owned. Maybe it was a change he needed, or maybe it was because Kyle gave it to him. There’s always something about Kyle that fills him with warmth, fullness. That week they fake dated after he broke up with Wendy. Kyle didn’t really date him, they just joked about it and had a jokey breakup, full of innuendos and full of laughs. But that week, those 6 and a ½ days, he felt freer and he thought he could. The tyranny that was Wendy, the fear of not being a trophy son for his dad, the overwhelming fear of being unloved. He felt none of it.

The curtains behind him opened and he could see Kyle in the mirror. His mouth was moving and he was looking at different accessories, probably to add to the outfit. Not looking up, just talking and smiling. Stan didn’t see or hear it, but he felt a drop slide down his cheek and he felt the laugh in his throat. He saw Kyle look up and freeze for a second. The reflection was not the same as his face when Stan turned around. When Stan turned he could see his dimples, his slightly uneven nose, his long lashes, each and every freckle. He cried a bit harder and Kyle was immediately next to him. He saw the worry, he felt the warm hands on his face, but he didn’t stop smiling or crying. He just leaned forward and held him.

Kyle was never a hugger, but he always reciprocated when Stan hugged him. Never anyone else. Stan’s hearing slowly came back into focus. He could here the tacky store music, the squeal Cartman gave off when he was scared. Kenny’s laugh indicating he probably did something to Eric. He heard his dad giving his whole life story to the cashier. He heard it all, but he wasn’t focused on it. All his attention was on the ginger in his arms.

“You okay, Stan?” He could hear the worry now, not just feel it. For once, the explosive ginger’s voice dripped with honey. He was worried and he always sounded sweeter when he was. Gentle, tender, delicate. Stan grabbed both sides of Kyle’s face and held their heads together. Stan looked into Kyle’s eyes, the emerald orbs frantically moving back and forth, eyed each part of Stan’s face. Stan leaned in slightly and closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Kyle”

It was quiet for a while after, Kyle not really knowing what to do. Stan on the other hand, just wanted to hold him. After a few minutes, Stan stood up straight and smiled. Kyle smiled back, moved pieces of his hair back and wiped his cheeks. Stan leaned into the touch and let Kyle nitpick at him.

“So what happened?” Kyle asked softly, gingerly, and he finished cleaning Stan up. 

“Nothing, felt a little emotional, that’s all.”

“Tell me something new, Stanley.” Kyle smiled up teasingly at him. The same smile he’s grown up with, played with, fell in love with. The same smile that radiates ease and comfort. Home. Kyle just radiated home. Stan was never going to forget that.

“Lovebirds! Come on! It does not take 15 minutes to change. It doesn’t even take that long to jerk him off!” Kenny yelled from the other side of the store, earning a huff from Kyle and a giggle form Stan. He loved his friends. He truly did. Stan reached over and grabbed Kyle’s hand or tried to, since he crossed his arms.

“Let’s go home, okay?” Kyle dropped his arms and let Stan grab him. 

“But what about outfit shopping?” Kyle raised an eyebrow at the raven.

“I think you already found the perfect outfit for me.” Kyle couldn’t contain his smile if he wanted to. He let Stan drag him back into the store. Ken found himself a whole outfit too. Knee high leather boots, ripped denim booty shorts and an off the shoulder black crop top. Cartman got himself a jacket while they were there too. Both noticed Stan and Kyle instantly. Ken looked excited but Cartman looked hesitant.

“You look like a pushover, Stanley.” Cartman flipped the collar of his new jacket while he gazed at Stan judgingly. 

“Because he is, so I think it’s perfect.” Ken clapped. Randy cried over how handsome his son looked for roughly 16 minutes after. Ken used Randy’s credit card to pay for it while he sobbed unto Stan. The drive home from Denver was quiet and calming. Cartman and Ken passed out in the back seat and Kyle joined them as they entered South Park. Stan watched the street lights move in and out of his sight. He watched as the snow fell and decorated the sidewalk with ice and glitter. 

Ken was first to be dropped off and as they drove away, Stan could see Ken sharing his boots with Karen. It was such a sweet picture, he looked away. It felt too sacred for him to see. Cartman was next, he used his key and walked in quickly, the cold too much for him. It made him snicker slightly as they drove away. Then Kyle, who Stan helped to his door. Ike answered and let them both in. They said their goodbyes and a goodnight hug. Next thing he knew, he was back in the car with just him and his dad. It wasn’t tense, wasn't stiff. It was a loose silence with the gentle radio playing on low volume. 

Getting home, his mom reheated dinner for Randy and Stan took his new outfit upstairs with him. He went about his night routines quietly, but he wasn’t moping, he wasn’t upset. He felt light and maybe not happy, but definitely some sort of okay. He ran into Shelly, he brushed his teeth while she combed her hair. When she finished, she ruffled her hat and left him alone in the bathroom. Turning off lights, he headed downstairs for water and to hug his mom goodnight. His dad was already passed out on the couch, pizza still in his mouth and his leg atop the chair leg. Stan walked over and hugged his dad softly.

“Thanks, pops.” He whispered, and held his dad for a bit. Letting go, he grabbed his water and went back upstairs. Turning off the lights, charging his phone and lying down, something felt off. Then he had an idea, he reached for his phone and sat up. It’s late and she wouldn’t answer, but let’s try anyway. It rang and rang, but no answer. As her voicebox played, he thought of what he was going to say. As he heard the click, he took a deep breath.

“Hey Wendy, it’s Stan. I wanted to call you and I figured you weren’t going to answer, but I’ll still tell you. I’m not sorry for hurting you, at least not fully. Because you did it to me countless times, however, I’ve never been a revenge person. I still shouldn’t have done what I did. It doesn’t sit right with me to hurt you, but at least you know how I felt every time. I hope someday, you’ll find stability or someone to stable you. I hope you find happiness one day, I hope you find all you need and more.

“No matter our past, no matter our future, know I’m rooting for you and hoping you find a place in this world. All these years and I thought you were it, but I see now, we just don’t work. And that’s okay. We don’t have to make something out of nothing. I’ll miss you Wendy, and I wish the best for you. Maybe we can be friends again. I would love that. Excuse the long message, I’ll let you sleep. Goodnight, Wendy. And goodbye.” 

He looked at the red button on the screen for a few seconds before pressing it and finalizing his message. There it is, the lightness again. He felt at ease, finally. The day had been packed with freedom, and emotions, but now, he finally felt at ease and sleepy. Replugging his phone in and pulling the covers over him. He started to feel that warm pull of the bed, the soft cushion of the pillows. As he fell asleep, he thought of Wendy and his message. But by the time he fell asleep, he was already thinking of his friends and his dad, and how much he really loves each and every one of them. Curly ginger hair and soft cheeks were the last images he saw before he dozed off.

He counted the freckles like they were stars. 

Chapter Text

All he asked for was one lunch period with just Tweek. Just one, but no. Clyde followed him everywhere like a dog, and, emotionally, he needed to have Token too. Not to mention that he invited Bebe, who invited Wendy, who invited Red, who invited Kevin for the hell of it. 

Craig sat there, drinking his orange juice while he watched the table talk and yell at each other. So loud, maybe he should just go sit by himself, or walk the halls quietly. Actually, that sounded nice. Craig finished his drink and grabbed his things when no one was looking. Tossing his trash away, he scouted the quiet halls, looking at everything and anything as he sauntered along the tiled floor. Everyone had the same hideous blue locker, but there was the occasional sticker, picture, or pin to decorate. The peeling drywall, the dusty floors, the missing roof tiles, he saw these everyday, but never paid attention to any of them. 

Turning the corner he ran into the school bulletin board. Clubs and announcements scattered along the construction paper background: some ripped, some new, some slipping off the wall. An announcement for band, a reminder for Friday, an award for some kid, the library’s closing dates. He never really read these before, never really cared before and he still doesn’t care. Continuing his walk he gazed down at the tiling pattern. Grey, white, grey, blue; it repeats and repeats. 

Craig stops as a pair of old and dirty white sneakers enter his vision. He doesn’t even have to think to know who’s shoes those are, but he doesn’t really want to look up either. Kenneth McCormick is not a friend of his, more of an acquaintance, a classmate at most. Sighing and slowly gazing up, Craig prepared for a never ending conversation with the poor boy. But, it never came. Ken didn’t even know he was there, even though he was right next to him. A locker space was all there was between them. 

Ken was organizing parts of his locker while he listened to music, courtesy of the, most likely borrowed, white earbuds. Craig was close enough to hear Ken’s whispers of the lyrics. Craig was sort of familiar with the song, but he never really listened to the lyrics. They were a bit different than he remembered.

“Lay still, restless

Losing sleep while I lose my mind” 

Ken’s eyes darted back in forth as he moved the things in his locker around. Yes, the occasional book or paper, but there was more that Craig didn’t really realize he kept with him. 

“All thrill, no stress

All my muses left behind” 

Bandages, pain killers, cigarettes, rope. The more Craig noticed, the more confused he got. Ken was weird, yes, he was annoying, yes. But these items were not things he’d imagine Ken would need.

“World is below

So high up, I'm near-divine”

Spray-paint, condoms, lighter, makeup. Watching him, he almost didn’t notice Ken dropped something until it tapped his shoe. Looking down that the object, it was a gun. And not just any gun, a silent pistol. Craig didn’t want to even check if it was loaded, he just looked back up at Ken.

“Lean in, let go

I feel fear for the very last time”

That was Craig’s cue to leave. He backed away quietly, and took a left instead of going straight. He sped walked away until he felt he was far enough away. When he dreamed himself good enough, he fixed his backpack straps and continued his walk.

He walked past the goths, getting hit with the smell of smoke and depression. He walked past the teens humping at the fountain, past the two idiot football players fighting over some cheerleader who was flirting with someone else as they beat the hell out of each other. 

He looked at the dull bathroom signs, the paint barely even visible. Craig thought he should splash himself with some water, to maybe forget that Kenny carried a gun on him, or at least owned one. Opening the door, he went straight to the sink and turned on the tap. Throwing the water all over himself, he stared at the mirror. 

How had he never noticed that part of Kenny? Kenny was a horny goofball. He was never serious, he never wanted to be serious. That’s all Craig saw in him. Maybe he just never fully paid attention to him. Who else had he never noticed? Just at the moment, he heard a soft whimper. Still staring at the mirror, Craig adjusted his attention to the stall right in back of him. The streaked rust was normal, but the bright red on it was new. 

Craig really hoped that wasn’t blood and someone wasn’t hurt. He’d have to get a teacher if that was the case and that seemed like a lot. Straightening up, he turned around and really looked at the door. The red liquid seemed to be minimum, only in one place, near the bottom, like it was splashed and not touched.

The quiet sob never stopped, but never got worse. Kneeling down, Craig could see the person’s leg and their bag. A soft blue with white strips. A pride pin, a phrase written in sharpie and a… bunny pin. 

This was Butter’s bag. 

Looking at the shoes and the socks, Craig confirmed it. Butter’s wore his Converses today, with the baby blue socks to match them. The white high tops were painted with red, mostly on the top, meaning it dripped down. Craig backed away slightly, taking a deep breathe. This was not something he could handle. He didn’t know the extent of his injuries, but he knew if he was still bleeding, it needed to stop. He need some kind of fabric to close those wounds or some type of- Bandage! Kenny!

Standing up, Craig watched the door or any indication that Butters would leave the stall any time soon. After coming to the conclusion he wouldn’t, he calmly walked to the bathroom door and quietly closed it. After the soft click of heard, Craig dropped his bag and bolted back to Kenny’s locker. Turning the corner, Craig’s  sneakers squeaked loudly at the friction. 

Kenny wasn’t at his locker anymore, but he couldn’t have gone far. Craig followed the path back to the cafeteria as he looked for the dirty blonde. He walked for at least 5 minutes before he spotted the orange parka. Pulling on Ken’s hood, Craig grabbed his attention.

”Uh, ow?” Kenny sarcastically slapped Craig’s hand off his jacket as he fixed it. “What the hell, man? Since when are you ever this spastic? Actually, when are you ever spastic? Is Tweek rubbing off on you? Or is it a side effect of him rubbing on you?”

No time! Craig grabbed Kenny’s wrist and begun dragging him to the west wing bathroom. The entire time Kenny wouldn’t stop asking questions. “Where are we going? What’s up, man? Why do you look so tense? What, not gonna tell me? That’s real sus, buddy.” Taking one last turn he saw the sign, but so did Ken. Pulling his arm back a little, he became uncooperative. 

“Hey now, I’m not a fan of being dragged into bathrooms.” He got more agitated the closer they got, and he got more difficult to pull. “Dude! Tell me what you’re doing! I don’t trust being pulled into a space with no camera. Especially one so empty at this time of day!”

Just as they reached the door, Ken retracted his hand successfully. “The fuck are you doing with me, man?!” 

Craig grabbed Ken’s shoulders and brought him close to him face. He could see the blonde’s faded freckles, no longer very prevalent in the colder seasons. His eyes rounded and nervous. “Do you have bandages in your bag or do you need to run back to your locker?”

It was a question Kenny was not expecting, he immediately relaxed and blinked up at Craig. “What?” 

“Do you carry bandages on you 24/7?”

”Yeah, I’m clumsy, I’m always getting hurt.” 

“Good.” Craig opened the door and pulled Ken in. After the door clicked Craig walked into the small space, back to the blooded door. Butters was still there, but he was no longer crying, more just feeling; or existing. 

Craig felt bad for doing this, but he knocked quietly twice. He heard a sharp inhale and saw Butters shuffle around a bit. Neither said anything for a second, Kenny not daring to try. Seconds pass, Butters didn’t move, no one else did, but time was ticking and lunch was ending soon. Craig did what he had to. 

“Butters? You there?” Craig asked, barely above a whisper. He didn’t know what state the fragile boy was in and he didn’t want to test it. A moment passed, and he heard a soft yet broken voice.

”Yeah… yeah, I’m… Hey, Craig. What’s up?” He seemed shaken up, so Craig’s mental switch flipped, and he turned off all sarcastic remarks and all cold tones. Butters sounded like Tweek, Craig could handle that. 

“Butters, you sound shaken up, are you okay?” Kenny recognized that tone. That tone was only for Tweek. Ken didn’t really understand why he needed to be there for this, but one glance down and everything clicked into place. Butters didn’t respond to Craig’s question, but Ken expected that. He knelt down and tapped Craig on the shoulder. A tap out, Kenny wanted to take over. Craig took the signal and sat down, letting Ken address the boy.

“Hey sunshine,” Ken started with his velvety tone. “What’s going on, sugar?” Craig could see Butters tense, even if he could only see his feet. Butters didn’t hear Ken walk in, he didn’t know he was here and now he was on alert. That’s not what Craig wanted. He was about to try talking to him again, but Ken held back his shoulder, a determined look was on his face. This was no longer his jurisdiction, Craig just had to accept that.

”Ken. I didn’t hear you come in…”

”I’m quiet when I need to be. What’s going on, baby? Why aren’t you talking to me?” Butters shuffled a lot behind the door. Looked like he was trying to hide something, packing the evidence away.

”What do you mean? I’m talking to you right now-“

”Butters.”

Butters stopped moving, so did Craig. There was so much more to Ken than he realized. He never heard that voice from him before. Stern and powerful, it left no room for argument. Butters sighed, but made no effort to move or talk. He knew he was caught, but he still didn’t want to admit anything. 

“Butters…” Ken tried anything, softer this time, but still strict. Butters didn’t even respond this time. He just sat there. 

“Leo.” Kenny whispered and Butters broke down. A loud, heartbreaking sob echoed against the cold tiled walls. Craig felt like he shouldn’t be here for this, but he needed to stay just in case. Kenny slid to the door and locked twice on it.

“I’m opening the door, okay? I need to see where you’re bleeding from.” A quiet ‘okay’ from Butters and Ken stood up, snapping the lock and pulling the door. Butters was quivering, shaking, and blood slowly trickled down his calf and unto his socks. Kenny sat down next to him, grabbed his bag and pulled out a big roll of bandages and a whole gallon of peroxide. Butters sat quietly, scooting to the right to give Ken more room.

Ken grabbed his arms carefully and scanned them for opened wounds. His grip was gentle, soft, barely touching. He placed his arms back down gingerly, so softly. Before Ken could check Butters thighs, Butters scooted away quickly; very quickly. Kenny gazed up at Butters, Butters didn’t look at him. Ken stared at him with this warm, worried look, almost motherly. Ken tried to touch Butters but Butters scooted farther away.

”Leo.” Nothing, not even a glance. “Leo, please. I need to check you.” Butters shook his head tersely. Ken stood up straight and turned to Craig. The look was all he needed. Craig immediately got up and waltzed out of the bathroom. Sitting by the door, he waited. He waited for a minute or so before getting a text from Ken.

‘Dont question where I got the # from, dont wait 4 us’ 

The grammar was terrible, reminded him of Clyde. But he supposed he could only trust Ken knew what he was doing and got up. Heading to the left, he made his way back to the cafeteria. He passed by the chemistry lab where some girl was giving some guy a blowjob. He passed the library, passed the gym. Walking the halls, made you think about how terrible South Park was. It was gross, it was cluttered, every surface was covered with blood, pee or semen. All of it was disgusting. Craig tried his best to avoid it, but at some point, what can you do?

He barely touched the cafeteria door handles when the bell rang. He blinked for a second and let go. He had to start heading to debate, it was across the school grounds and he only had a 5 minute passing period. With a sigh, he turned around. The halls were instantly swarmed with children, all rushing to the next class. Several people bumped into him, and some even pushed him. He just avoided eye contact and avoided altercations. 

Avoiding could only do so much. Someone grabbed his arm and he swung to punch them off, until he turned around and it was Clyde. “Woah, dude! Tryin’ ta kill me?” Clyde took a defensive stance, arms in front of his face; cowering. Craig dropped his arm and adjusted his bag straps.

”If only it were that easy.” Craig sighed and begun walking to class. He didn’t wait for Clyde, never needed to. Clyde would always catch up anyway.

”We missed at lunch, dude. Where’d you go?”

”I took a soothing and brisk walk around campus.” Craig could hear a snort coming from Clyde. His response was to walk faster.

”Sorry, man. But you don’t take walks. Ever. You hate walking. And exercise. And people. You hate most things.” 

“Yeah, well,” Craig turned the corner and came face to face with Stan Marsh. The guy looked everywhere. Hair was frazzled, he looked red in the face and his clothes were everywhere. Craig wasn’t about to ask, but he kind of felt the need to. Luckily for him, Clyde became a gossiper thanks to Bebe. 

Clyde whistled at Stan’s frazzled appearance. “Hey, man. What’s got you so…” Clyde didn’t need to finish, he just looked at Stan up and down. Craig didn’t think it was possible, but Stan somehow grew redder in the face. He must have not looked at a mirror when he finished, whatever it was he was doing. 

“Uhh, nothing. It’s uh,”

”Save it, Marsh.” Craig cut in. He really didn’t care. Stan nodded and ran off. Craig just kept walking. Clyde sauntered with him to his debate class before making his way to Literature. Craig could almost feel the migraine that came from hearing Kyle talk about anything; one con of debate. Hovering at the door, dreading the walk in, Craig took a second to look around himself. Nothing special, expect for a boy with a baby blue backpack and pants that obviously didn’t belong to him.

He looked tired, but no longer upset. The pants were obviously Kenny’s, too long and too dirty to be anyone else’s, but somehow, they worked. It was a good thing he left them, it looked like it worked out. Smiling to himself, Craig walked into his next class and regretted it. 

Kenny McCormick was wearing a pair of tiny Khaki shorts and knee high white socks that obviously had blood on them. He looked ridiculous sitting on Kyle’s desk. Ken took one look at the door, and his face light up, while Craig’s fell.

”Craig-y~” Kenny basically cat-called. Craig tried to quickly walk away, but Ken slid off the desk and barreled to him, cornering him quickly and loudly. “What do you think of my drip?”

”You look ridiculous.” Craig tried pushing him away, no dice. 

“Are you sure?” Kenny smirked and turned around rubbing his ass on Craig’s thigh. “I think they do a number for me.”

He changed his mind. Kenny was exactly what he remembered. Weird? Yes. Annoying? Yes. Slutty? You answer that. Craig kicked him in the dick and Ken hunched over with a loud ‘Fuck!’ Craig walked to his desk and sat down, throwing his legs up on the table.

”Damn, Craig! Nice shot!” Kenny groaned, rolling over in pain. He held his groin and laid on the floor, adding a quiet ‘Didn’t hurt at all-‘ before the bell rang, signaling class had started. Kenny wasn’t in this class, and frankly, he was never in the class he needed to be in, so no one said anything. 

It was nice to see another side to the idiot, but an idiot is an idiot; no special treatment given. Craig pulled out his phone and his earbuds waiting for the teacher to show up. He played a song he didn’t listen to much, but it’s been stuck in his head all day. He leaned back and listened to the melody, didn’t even notice Ken leave and the teacher begin class. All he could hear were the lyrics that echoed in his ear. 

‘Stayin' still, eyes closed

Let the world just pass me by

Pain pills, nice clothes

If I fall, I think I'll fly

Touch me, Midas

Make me part of your design

None to guide us

I feel fear for the very last time.’

Chapter Text

Once more, Craig was at soup. 

No, not really. But he was in detention.

It was a misunderstanding. Craig was just minding his business when Cartman had the audacity to exist in a 10 mile radius has him. Cartman being himself made some snide remark about Craig and that was fine; he could handle that. However, all patience went out the door when he starting talking to Tweek. Now, he didn't start at Tweek, he made his way over by acknowledging each friend in the process. For Craig, it was that he looked extra divorced today. Clyde was a weight joke, how ironic (He should look in a mirror), and a retard joke. Token was a rich white boy joke and Bebe was a slut joke. The only reason Bebe was there was because she tried defending them. Too bad she got caught in the jell-O mix. 

That was all fine and dandy, Craig just mentally reminded himself to sock Cartman extra hard after letting Kyle destroy him verbally. But those plans were ruined when Cartman noticed untamable blonde hair hiding behind Clyde.

"Well look-ie here, it's Spazzy McQueen." Tweek audibly twitched, soft murmurs working in sync to his shaking. Weird to believe Tweek still calls them friends. "What's up, gay-wad? Haven't seen you in a while, not that I really care." Clyde shuffled to the side, holding his backpack strap and gripping it hard, forcing Tweek int more light. Pulling his hair, Tweek said nothing back, so Cartman took that as an excuse to continue. "You hanging with a new gang? Funny, thought you had no other friends. You are kinda hard to like." Every step back Tweek took, Cartman took one forward until Tweek's back was against the locker and Cartman was way too close for comfort. Not to go really into what happened, let's just say Craig stepped in, snapped and socked Cartman in the jaw, hard.

Thus, detention was given, and here he sat in the cold music hall, by himself. The place detention was held always moved around, so he wasn't surprised when he was directed here. Didn't like it either. No teacher was watching him, so in theory he could just leave, but then he'd have to go to class again, and he will punch someone again. Sitting alone wasn't too bad, Craig did hate everyone after all. But it was also eerie to sit alone in an abandoned room with dim lighting and no noise. Not just that, there was nothing to do.

The teachers took his phone and his ipod (yes, he owns one, sue him). So the soundless space was that much more intimidating without distraction. Waltzing towards the big piano at the corner of the room, Craig stared at the dusty keys; seems no ones played that thing in ages. Gently sweeping the dust off the keys, he applied minimum pressure to a white note. The ring was delicate and high, clear as it echoed. Nothing interrupted the pleasant note as it finished it’s performance, then he pressed another. Another after another, and a soft melody played. Craig never really played any instruments, minus his bass, so it wasn’t a good melody, but it was one nonetheless. There were parts that didn’t sound good, or a combination that was too close in sound and made no difference, but it didn’t stop him from continuing his key pressing. 

As he started getting fancy, adding two notes at a time or pressing them to a slightly understandable tempo, the music hall doors slammed open and Craig jumped out of his skin. Straightening up and taking a big step to the right, he tried to pretend that he wasn’t playing and he wasn’t scared by the door. Standing there awkwardly, he just watched as a random teacher stomped in, with Kenny dragging his feet behind. She threw him into a chair and practically hissed at him to sit and stay. Leaving the way she came, stomping out, she slammed the door shut and now it was just him and Kenny. 

Kenny made no comment at first, merely just a sigh as he slumped down into the chair. Awkward and stale silence filled the room as they both sat still and tense. Kenny made no effort to move or speak, so Craig slowly made his way back to the decaying piano. Hesitant, he pressed a key down, the ring echoed once more, precise and sharp. Kenny shifted, but didn’t move more, so Craig pressed another down, then another. The same awkward tempo played as he just pressed the keys with no rhyme or reason. The quiet, eerie room is now calm and cold. Intimidating and comforting, soft and stiff. Craig could hear shuffling, but paid no mind, content with his randomized notes. 

Craig could practically feel Kenny watching him, but he tried to play it off and play faster; but all stopped when a key he didn’t press rang in his head. A lower note, deep and brooding, and nowhere near him. He was playing the lighter notes, melody. But that key was a bass, an instructor, a key that demanded attention, but also lived to assist. A deep rumble, yet a clear tone. 

Beautiful. This piano was beautiful. 

Neither said a thing, they just played together in calm quiet. The soft tones and the sharp notes blending together in a lulling symphony. Kenny was a lot more confident in the way he played, more like he played piano at some point. But his tempo was just out of whack as Craig. Sometime during this weird moment with Kenny, the door slammed open once more. This time, the same teacher flung Bebe in before leaving. The blonde dusted off her shirt and scowled at the closed door, angrily fixing her hair. As she ran her fingers through her blonde locks, she eyed the piano and the two boys standing over it. 

Craig stopped playing the moment the door opened, but Kenny didn’t. He lost focus, but never stopped his tapping amongst the notes. After Bebe composed herself, she walked over to the large instrument and stood next to Ken, silently watching him play. She did nothing but watch quietly, listening intently to the noise of Ken playing by himself. It wasn’t until a particularly sour note that she spoke up. “That should’ve been a C.” She noted, barely above a whisper. She slipped a piece of her hair behind her ear, never taking a glance off of the piano. Ken stopped playing for a solid second, before turning his attention to Bebe. And for the first time today, Kenny wore his signature smile. Ken took his hand off the piano and with that, Bebe looked up too. 

“You know the difference?” Ken laughed. “I was just hittin’ keys. You know, slammin’ notes, havin’ fun.” Ken backed away from the piano and leaned in close to Bebe. “Do you know how to play this bad boy, little lady?” Bebe blinked, not bothered by the closeness; she looked to be in deep thought. Shuffling toward the instrument, she delicately hit a G. Ken watched as her fingers danced along the keys, a tone familiar, yet unknown. G, A, C, E, hold. A fast E, G, A, then a lonely E. Even without the base, the son was still just as beautiful. The longer she played, the more Craig wanted to know this song. Needed it, because he knew it somewhere in time. D, C D A, another C; then she stopped. 

Bebe’s hands glided off the black and white board. She looked back at Ken, holding her hands towards her chest and spoke as if she was reminiscing, bathing in the soft warmth of memories. “My dad took me to lessons when I was little. Mom said I didn’t need them, but my dad was rather insistent. He said it would teach me valuable lessons, and help me be a proper lady. I stopped going after so many years. I don’t really miss it, but I do remember it fondly.” Ken looked back at the keys, before a light bulb popped in his head.

“Can you teach me?” 

“Huh-” Bebe stared bewildered at the sudden interest. Playing is one thing, teaching is another. As Ken continued to ask and plead Bebe, Craig dusted over the keys again. Ken was an insistent guy, so pulling him away from the nervous Bebe was not something he really wanted to put effort in. So, he switched his attention to the old machine. The song was still buzzing in his head. He recognized the tune, and could piece the following notes together. Now all he needed were lyrics and a name. Trying to replicate what she played, Craig placed both hands on the board. It was, G… A, B- no, C. Putting all his brain cells on the job, he didn’t notice how close Bebe was. 

Ken had leaned in every so often, causing Bebe to back pedal. Step by step, she came closer to Craig, but it was hard to focus on that with unruly blonde hair directly in her center view. Closer and closer, until she could feel the warmth from his body, but Ken didn’t let up. With every ‘please’ and ‘c’mon’, he swayed in closer until he was practically on her. Making her decision, she took a hard step back to nail right into Craig, hoping he would help her. Well, she at least got a reaction. She slammed into him enough to cause him to stutter in his steps, but he straightened up real quick

“Ken! Can you stop raping Bebe! I’m trying to do something!” Bebe took the opportunity to swoop out and run behind Craig. Ken smiled and leaned unto Craig, throwing an arm around him. 

“You ruin all fun, dude.” Craig shoved his arm off and continued his quest. Next was E, G, B..? Or was it A? 

“Fuck.” Craig cursed as he exhaled. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the tune, the tempo, the feeling the song brought to him. He was pulled from his thoughts, courtesy of Bebe and her soft voice asking,

“Are you trying to play the song again?”

Craig didn’t want to admit it, so he shook his head, dropping his hands off the piano. Bebe watched his pause in defeat, obviously embarrassed about even attempting to replicate her notes. Not knowing why, she grabbed his hand and guided it to the right notes. Craig said nothing, and astonishingly, let her. “G, then A, C and E.” She lightly pressed his fingers down, the note there, but soft; quiet and terse. 

“A, E, G, A. Then-” Slam. The door swung vigorously once more. But it wasn’t that same teacher, it was Ms. Garrison. Walking into the room and turning around as they all watched Stan Marsh drag his feet across the tiled room. His head tipped down and his face embarrassed. Ms. Garrison said nothing, just rolled her eyes and proceeded to leave, closing the door before her. The loud noise caused Stan to flinch, but nothing more; he didn’t move beside a sigh.

“Okay…” Bebe said cautiously. She slowly turned her attention back to the piano, noticing her hands still on Craig. She lifted them off and cleared her throat. “Anyway. It’s A, E, G, A. Then E. So, it’ll sound like… ” Bebe slowly took control of the piano, Craig not stopping her. As she hit the keys the tune rang out once more. The soft melody returned and it echoed once again in both the room and in Craig’s mind. The song, so familiar, yet so unknown. As she played, she ended up stopping in the same place as before. She fiddled with her fingers before saying anything else. “I didn’t show you the last few, but I don’t think it matters.”

Craig wanted to ask Bebe about the song and its origins, but she already seemed uncomfortable with teaching him what she knows, almost as if it’s a secret she knows how to play at all. So, he didn’t, and he let her have that privacy. Whoever said Craig Tucker was a heartless robot was half lying! He’s not that heartless, just a little. They sat there in silence for a second, before Marsh moved over and circled the piano like they had. His face held a concentration Craig didn’t think he was capable of. Marsh was, how do you say… an absolute buffoon. 

As Stan studied the piano, he leaned in close to Bebe, but not as close as Ken was earlier. “Do you mind playing that song again?” Bebe blinked before nodding and placing her hands on the keys once more. As her fingers danced along the board, Stan listened intensely, focused and determined. When she finished, she glanced at him, neither moving or speaking for a mere second, before Stan slammed his hands on the delicate instrument in revelation. Bewildered, Craig, Ken and Bebe just stared, waiting for an explanation, but that's not what Stan gave.

“If you ever change your mind,” Stan whispered, not quite singing, but not just saying. “About leaving, leaving me behind…” Stan looked back at Bebe, a second passed before her eyes widened. 

“Bring it to me.” She whispered, wide eyed and wide grinned; excitement practically seeped out of her. 

“Bring your sweet lovin’, bring it on home to me.” Stan and Bebe sang together. As Bebe giggled and squealed, Craig and Ken glanced at each other confused, each other earning a shrug. Then it clicked for Craig. That was the song; The song that’s been echoing in his mind. It was a song his mom used to sing long ago. It was by… 

“Sam Cooke, Bring it on home to me.” 

Pure, unadulterated quiet followed his little light bulb; he must have said that out loud. Nothing was louder than silence. Ken practically popped his back with the slap he gave. It knocked all the wind out of him, and he glared at the beaming dusty blonde.

“You sly dog! Didn’t know you could name actual music. I thought you listened to nothing but Phantom of the Opera or some shit!” The boisterous laugh he gave flooded the quiet room. Phantom of the Opera? Who listens to that unironically? And when has he ever listened to Phantom of the Opera in front of Kenny? Craig was so boggled by just that thought, he didn't notice Bebe or Stan invading his space either. Stan threw an arm over his shoulder on the left side, and Bebe grabbed his right hand. With Ken’s hand still on his back, everyone was touching. 

“Why didn’t you say you knew the song?”

“Is that why you were so focused earlier?”

“Are you trying to learn it on piano?”

“Why are you learning piano suddenly?”

“Can you play anything else?”

“Ooo, you should learn guitar or something.” Ew, they were practically kindergartners. They wouldn’t let go as they bombarded Craig with questions, each leaving no room for answering. They pulled his hat, jacket, and limbs, trying to get him to answer all and any question; he had enough.

“Get off.” He shrugged each individual person off, yanking back his hat and jacket from Ken and Bebe. Patting himself down, he took a deep breath. The idiots won’t leave him alone unless he answers, so be it. 

“Yes, I know the song. No, I’m not trying to learn it. Yes, that was why I was focused. Again, I’m not learning piano. Yes, I can play other things and no, I’m not telling you what.” The abrupt answering received a giggle from Bebe and a snicker from Ken. Nothing was said after. As detention continued on, the group of children did their own thing. Craig played Tetris on his phone, Stan started his Algebra homework, and Bebe combed through her hair. Ken, however, studied the room. Gingerly, he touched every instrument that decorated the room. That is, until he found the drums covered by an off white sheet that was actually a dust bunny itself. 

The drums were disorganized and all the places were loose. It was in disarray, but nothing a Clorox wipe couldn’t fix. For the next 10 minutes, crashing noises were all that was heard. Bebe slowed her brushing to watch 2 minutes in. Stan put down his pencil at minute 5. They watched Ken run back and forth cleaning and adjusting until the drum set looked brand new. Craig, the champion, didn't spare a glance until minute 14, that’s when Ken started playing. The loud drumming was enough for him to slam a 'z' piece down into the wrong spot, ruining his run. 

With all three watching the blonde play, Ken played louder, fear of interrupting them was long gone now that their attention was on him. A moment is all it took when Stan spotted a black and white electric guitar in the corner; light bulb. Ken’s drum solo suddenly became a duet, the boys playing as loud as possible together. The frantic movement of both was so mesmerizing and actually, kinda funny. Both clearly could play the instruments regularly, but they chose to look ridiculous. You gotta hand it to them. 

The aggressive clashing of the boys almost sounded like a dumpster rave, that was, until a delicate piano could be heard. At some point, Bebe got up herself and decided to join, making Craig the outsider. Loud uncoordinated music bounced off the peeling walls. Craig almost felt obligated to join, but did he want to? No. Very much no. On one hand, he did enjoy music, could play an instrument, and he may or may not have been eyeing said instrument for some time now. On the other hand, he hated everyone around him and hated the idea of enjoying anything with them. More or less just Stan and Kenny. Bebe gave him no reason to hate her, doesn’t mean he likes her though. Her and Clyde have a weird on and off relationship, so he knows more about her than he likes to know; including her bra size (Yes, Clyde is a creepy little bitch).

With the sounds slowly dying out and laughter filling the void in its place, Craig just accepts the situation and goes back to his phone. He didn’t want to engage with them longer than he had to. Looking at the time, he had 15 minutes left. He just had to last 15 minutes. He could do that. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - – - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Or at least he thought. 2 minutes in, Kenny remembered his confession to knowing how to play something and has been bothering him for the last 7 minutes. Stan joined around 5 and Bebe at 7. He had nowhere to go and he was getting fed up. So-

“Okay! Okay. I’ll tell you, but don’t expect me to play it for you!” Craig stood up angrily, kicking the chair in process. The squeak was like nails on a chalkboard. Craig crossed his arms and looked down at the tile under him. “I play bass. I know guitar but I’m not as much of a fan.” 

“Well now I have to hear you play-” Ken jumped up excitedly and ran toward the dusty brown bass guitar before running back, practically throwing the bass at Craig. The bass guitar looked barely used regardless of the age it had to be, shiny and polished with a thin layer of dust. Such a nice instrument like that couldn’t be tossed around, and that’s the only reason he caught the damn thing when Ken threw it at him. The cold surface was heavenly, but Craig had to resist the urge.

“No,” Craig tried arguing, “I said I wouldn’t play it.” Gingerly setting down the string instrument, Craig tried standing his ground.

“C’mon! You heard us play.”

“Never said I wanted to.”

“There’s no way you don’t wanna play it.” 

“I stand my ground.” The argument was cut short at the sound of the middle school bell. End of period, meaning Craig could leave and never come back. As he walked over to get his bag and things, Ken followed suit and caged Craig in, even being a little taller. 

“You can run, Tucker. But I won’t forget this information. Oh no. I’ll find a way to use it against you. You’ll play for me whether you like it or not.” The cold look in his eyes meant he was not joking. But Craig could pretend he had a backbone this once. He straightened up and stared directly back.

“Even if it kills you?” Craig snarked back, trying to not shiver at the mischievous smirk.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Ken backed away with a wink and followed Stan out the door, staring longer than comfortable. Bebe was the first one out, so it was just Craig again. Sweet peace. 

Until Clyde broke down the door, Token followed behind.

“YOU CAN PLAY BASS?? THAT’S SO COOL!” Of course he told Clyde. Well, he’ll just hit Clyde and the conversation will be over-

“Me and Tweek wanna hear you play man!” 

Tweek? His absolute O N E weakness?

F u c k.