Chapter Text
“Goddammit.”
Stan glanced up at the cast list posted on the bulletin board outside his choir room. Everyone could tell it had been posted when girls began jumping up and down and screaming. It’s never been that serious.
“Let’s see.” Stan pretended to use his finger to guide his eyes to his name on the sheet, as if he wasn’t third in the order.
Jack Kelly: Kyle Broflovski
Katherine Plumber: Wendy Testaburger
Davey: Stan Marsh
Crutchie: Kenny McCormick
Les: Ike Broflovski
Race: Butters Scotch
Albert: Tweek Tweak
Spot Conlon: Craig Tucker
Specs: Tolkien Black
Delancey Brothers: Clyde Donovan and Scott Malkinson
Medda: Nichole Daniels
It’s not a surprise that his best friend, Kyle, got the lead.
Kyle had never been in the ensemble, never been in the back of a scene. He had always gotten all of the solos, all of the fame (as much as middle school and community theatre could provide), and he always surprisingly pulled a lot. Obviously, it was not a surprise that in his freshman year, he landed the lead role. They even brought his brother in from the goddamn middle school. Most people peak in high school, but Stan questioned if he’s ever peak. Kyle’s suffering from a case of extreme tenor white guy privilege.
Could this be considered nepotism?
Arguably, Stan believed that he was a better fit for the role of Jack. In comparison, Jack is the character who embodies a sort of cynically confident and emotionally vulnerable persona. In a way, this represented everything that Stan shaped his personality around. However, Davey is the straight man, and the happier one at that. The compassionate problem solver whose original actor happened to be Jewish. In the eyes of the director, it was never over their actual personalities.
Stan always knew he was second best, when they were in a show, he was always the side character. It was Kyle in lights and Stan sitting on the sidelines. The only time it got remotely close to Stan being a lead is when the two switched off the role of the Beast in the 7th grade.
Kyle did everything theatre. He drew the backdrops, made the playbills, you name it — he did it. He delayed the entire night of auditions because he had a migraine the day of. Only him could hold everything back for the sake of his beautiful voice.
Stan honestly felt a little bad for being pissed. It wasn’t his fault that his friend got more opportunities than him. But seeing it in action every single time that dreaded list was thumbtacked onto the wall, it all just started to hurt.
“Hey, hey, Stan! Please don’t tell me I got Jack.” Kyle ran over to the crowd surrounding the solid piece of black and white printer paper that somehow formed a hierarchy in high school theatre.
“You know, asshole, you should stop auditioning when you know you get the lead every time.”
“It’s not my fault! I hate being the lead, who’s playing Katherine anyway?”
“Wendy, naturally. That doesn’t even matter, dickwad. There’s no fucking way that you hate getting the lead, dude.”
“Come on, Stan. Don’t yell at me like it’s my fault, man. You’re still Davey! You… act.. more than me?”
“No one gives a shit about Davey, he’s just the nerdy weak guy. When you think of the show, Davey’s never the first choice.”
“At least you’re not Race like Butters! He can’t do a tap solo anymore ever since the accident, the second one I mean.”
“Whatever, man. See you tomorrow.”
“Are you guys whining over your gay little musicals again?” Cartman spotted the two, walking over.
The two boys just side-eyed him in an awkward, yet angry fashion. Over the years, they had adapted to simply ignoring him except when he somehow gave valid arguments.
“Screw you guys, I’m going home.” Cartman flips the two off, slowly shoving his hands into his pockets and walking away.
Stan knew that this musical season would be long.
Kyle knew that Stan was acting a little off.