Chapter Text
Moving to South Park was just another thing in life that just kinda, sucked for you. Change of scenery was something your parents thought would be good for you. That and your mother decided that it would be rude somehow to just sell her aunt’s home. Why did she move to a redneck little mountain town though? A small town with basically nothing to do. Your parents thought the town would be good, reaching the end of highschool it would definitely be less stressful. Moving as you reached the end of highschool, makes so much sense, definitely less stress. End of highschool without literally anyone you know, that was great planning.
Mainly, the reason you thought they wanted to live here is because they wanted a nicer house, sell the old one, where you grew up, where all your memories were but that didn’t matter to them. Your great aunt chose to live here when she was reaching the end of her life. At the end of her life she stuck in a little down with seemingly not a lot going on. You loved your great aunt, though you both weren’t really close as you both got older. You didn’t understand why your dad agreed to move here still.It was your mom’s aunt,but your dad agreeing made no sense. You didn’t understand, broken record of thoughts, just not understanding it.
For the first day, it was chilly, shocking for a mountain town. The sky was grey, it was just completely dreary, which didn’t make you feel any better. The move was supposed to be good for you, you had been sad before the move, you’re definitely sad after. Your parents did care, they tried, but they weren't equipped to really know how to handle it. Both having, normal brains. Deep down they had to care right? They fed you, clothed you, kept you around, some ounce of care was in their hearts...but it still didn’t seem like it sometimes. Sometimes overthinking about it lead you to yearn to feel loved. Yearn to feel like someone cared.
The first day of going to your new school was decent enough, good as it could’ve been you guessed. There was so much anxiety that went through you but you tried so hard to talk to people. A blonde curly haired girl was friendly enough, but she seemed popular. It scared you because you felt like she would wind up stabbing you in the back. It felt like again someone saw you as the weird kid and wanted to keep you as a pet. Pretend to be your friend, but talk shit about you. You hated making quick judgments so you always replied to her politely.
This all was new, you hated change, new was so scary. You got used to the people you had and now you have to relearn how to make friends.
There was also a ginger-haired boy who always had a raven haired boy at his side. You spotted the raven haired boy talking to a girl with black hair and a pink hat at one point. Then you saw the ginger boy start to look around for an out, seemingly disinterested in the conversation. They were both friendly enough as well, the other people, like the chubbier kid and the kid with the parka didn’t make you feel comfortable though. The chubby kid looked at you like he was ready to make you experience worse anxiety than you already had, and the parka kid just seemed off. Something just felt like it wasn’t clicking about him.
Mostly for the school day, you kept to yourself. It was a decent first day, not as scary or awful as you thought it would be. You knew people were going to keep talking to you. You were a new face, it was exciting for them, in a way you guessed, but you understood in about a month that they would be used to you. You just really hoped, so badly, one person would stick around with you, so you didn’t feel so very alone in this town. You just had no one and for now people looking at you made you feel judged, but the thought of people treating you like a ghost scared you.
The heightened anxiety for the first day made you completely worn out, a bit numb feeling too. Like emotionally but also your skin felt like it had barely any sensation. You knew you were going to fall asleep after school, you didn’t really get homework, it was fine. Though you knew your dad would then be slightly upset because you still had to unpack. Unpacking felt like hell. All the belongings you had, felt more like they had a place when they were in your old room. Now felt so out of place in your new room. All the same furniture you had, the same objects, that now felt like they didn’t belong. Your family moved all of your old furniture, so you had all the same stuff but nothing felt like it had a place anymore. It was no longer a set you were comfortable with. Everything you unpacked felt like there was just a memory stuck to it, that you hadn’t realized before. This was your new home, to live in, but your heart definitely was not here, and it just hurt.
As you shoved your hands into your coat, finally done at your locker, and your heavy bag on your back, you had a small smile. You gripped the object in your one pocket. There was your lighter. You couldn’t find the damn thing and you wanted to light a candle last night. You rubbed the plastic outside and lightly dragged a fingertip on the metal, you liked having your lighter in a way. Fire was a bit comforting, it was warm and gave light. Such a beautiful, but destructive thing. Watching things turn to an ash, shrivel up, was a stress reliever for you. Maybe you'd make a small fire after you woke up from your nap. Well as long as you didn’t sleep too long. Right, getting out of this building while currently you were so tired was the main goal. For the school day you mostly wanted to wait until everyone seemed like they were gone so you could leave without people stopping you to talk.
Seeing things mostly clear, maybe seeing about 3 other people still inside, you made your way down the empty halls and pushed the big door open as the chilled air hit your face. It was almost relaxing. Almost though. The chill hit your face and felt like it seeped into your bones. For a moment your eyes almost watered, your face almost felt stiff in a way. You had paused in the doorway kind of holding the door open accidentally. The cold had stopped you in your tracks.
Before you were about to walk forward again you took in a quick but shallow breath as you noticed almost too slowly someone was standing just before the steps, you hoped they wouldn't talk to you. It was a tall person with black curly hair and a dark coat that seemed to extenuate their height. Then you heard the flicking. It took your tired brain to recognize for a moment that it was coming from the person in front of you, another moment to understand the sound was the flicking of a lighter. You slowly walked forward still holding the door. You needed to get moving soon before you started to shiver from the bit of cold. This entire time of your tired brain practically blue screening over and over again, but you did notice the person didn’t turn their attention to you. They likely hadn’t heard the door open being preoccupied. They were trying to use a lighter but it just wouldn’t give. You stepped forward again letting the door finally close, seeing if they were going to move, look at you. They did not.
The most logical assumption your brain finally came up with was that they wanted to have a cigarette, yeah, why else would someone just be standing in the cold, especially flicking a dead lighter over and over again. You swallowed lightly before taking your small lighter out of your pocket. You stepped around the person a bit trying to look at their face without looking into their eyes. Right you were, a cigarette hung from their mouth.
In this moment, seeing their face finally, they looked masuline. Looked like a tall goth boy who wanted a cigarette. You failed not looking into his eyes. It was practically instinctive. So when his eyes hit yours, you saw his mouth quickly form into a small frown, almost a bitter grimace while the cigarette hung from his lips. Your brain had been taking in what he looked like before he narrowed his eyes, which made you blink your tired eyes a few times. His eyes almost seemed a black color but from the bit of light they were a nice deep brown. He stood and waited for you to do something, looking at other details quickly, his hand that had a fingerless glove on, held his thumb over his own lighter still near his cigarette, ready to try again.
You, majorly embarrassed how you just seemed to have kept freezing up, which you internally blamed exhaustion on, then decided to light it for him. Once you made up your mind left no wasted time, not letting yourself freeze up again, and quickly mumbled a small, very faint, “here…” as you used your lighter and lit up his cigarette.
You cringed internally as your chilled hand touched his cold face just in the slightest. His face seemed to soften a bit. The frown on his face lifted and his brown eyes almost filled with a curiosity. His dark brows looked to be furrowed into confusion as he looked at you. He looked as though he was going to speak to you as you pulled your hand away as soon as the cigarette was lit. He would maybe say a simple thank you but you weren’t sticking around. You were so tired, your face got heated, even more embarrassed all over again, just from slightly touching the stranger’s face. As if it was somehow bad, you did something so bad, as if you somehow did it wrong. You quickly made your way away from him and sped walked home as the rainy drizzle finally let up that day. The sky still stayed a sickly grey color.
The tall goth stood for a time watching you quickly leave. His heart panged slightly, he actually wanted you to stick around. You were the new kid, the one everyone wouldn’t shut up about. You seemed odd even to him, leader of his little group. He wondered if you were just like the rest of his bunch. If you weren’t just some ‘poser’, but somewhere in his mind, he didn’t mind if you were. He took the cigarette from his mouth after inhaling a bit, and with that hand touched his own face lightly where your hand had met it. Something about it, about you, made him feel warm. He just so suddenly wanted to know everything about you. He wanted to befriend you even if you were a complete poser.
You didn’t know what a simple action start, and Michael didn’t know he had it in him to become the person he began to be that day.