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It was cold. The cold was everything Stan felt right now. It was another one of those nights. Those nights when his father wouldn't leave him fucking alone.
He tried to act like it doesn't matter to him. Like he doesn't care about how miserable his life was. But he can no longer pretend.
He heard how his parents argued downstairs. "I swear I'm going to divorce you. You can't just hit him I said that multiple times now," he heard his mother almost screaming. He ignored her words, because he knew she wouldn't divorce him anyway. He accepted it, that every time she said it, it was a lie.
He continued listening to their fight. "He is useless and you know that," his dad said, then he heard how something broke and more shouting.
Not even five minutes later he heard both cars driving out of the driveway. His parents always vanished for a few nights after a big fight. It was their way of saying we don't want to fix our problems. Which was okay, because he don't want to fix this family either. Now with Shelly being in college, its only him and his parent.
He stood up, walked to his window and closed it, full of hope he would feel less cold. Maybe he wasn't cold, because of his window being open all the time, but more, because of his life being shitty and him feeling alone. Alone, because his parents aren't there for him.
But maybe he deserved it. His parents being assholes. Him having bad grades. Living in this shitty town, with this shitty people. Him and Kyle slowly drifting away from each other.
Kyle.
If he would tell his ten year old self, that he and Kyle don't talk much anymore, he would probably kill him. Another thing he deserved, but not accepted as much as his parents being shitty. It's his fault that he and Kyle don't talk much anymore. He remembers it, like it was yesterday.
"We can't be friends, if you continue to destroy your life like that Stan. I'm afraid of losing you, because of drugs. I think it hurts less, if just stop being friends and stop talking, instead of you killing yourself and then, because of you being fucking dead we stop talking. Me or drug's. It's your decision. "
And then he walked away. Stan just stood their until he could no longer see Kyle. He still remembers the cold breeze on his face. The smell of the snow and weed. The haunting smell of Kyle's jacket he wore that day. Then he walked home and got yelled at, because he smoked weed. He ran up the stairs, in his room and cried. He doesn't remember how long. Maybe the whole night, maybe just a hour.
But now he sits here, in his completely empty and silent house, which was weird, because silence was a rare occurrence. He lay down and looked out of the window. It was cloudy, so you couldn't see any stars. He missed Kyle, normally they would sit on Stan's bed and would play video games until the sun rises and then they would "accidentally" cuddle until they fell asleep.
But not today. Maybe never again.
He stood up again and went downstairs to the kitchen. He looked through the cabinets and found what he looked for. A bottle of vodka.
He went back upstairs, sat down on his bed again, opened the bottle and took a big gulp. He felt how it burned in the back of his throat. But not even ten seconds later he already felt warmer. The vodka made him fell warmer from the inside, but his skin still felt cold. Before he realized it he chugged down the rest of the bottle.
It wasn't a rare occasion that he drank that much. It really wasn't. It's one of the reasons Kyle doesn't want to be friends anymore.
Before he could think about it, half the bottle was empty. He felt really good. Like he does every time after drinking. He could stop if he wanted to, he knows that, but maybe he doesn't want to stop. Kyle's words go through his head. It's his decision. But being clean means never doing it again.
His bed felt warm under him. He let himself fall onto it. He took his phone and opened his and Kyle's chat. The last message he send him was a simple see you in school tomorrow three weeks ago. His eyes started to burn. He convinced himself it wasn't, because he missed Kyle so much, but more because of the light from his phone being to bright.
He knew he would regret it later, but the thought of asking Kyle to come over felt so seductive. He just missed him so much. And before he could control it, he started crying. He missed everything about him. His smell. His smile. Running his fingers trough his hair while Kyle was already asleep.
He only thought fuck it and started writing.
1:13 a.m.
-Me
hey kyle i know you dont wanna have anything to do with me and i probably shouldn't even be texting you right now but i really fuckng miss you. It hurts not talking to you like at all. i dont even know if you will read this but everything just feels so wrong without you.
sorry if this is annoying or stupid idk
He placed his phone on his nightstand, when he suddenly felt ill. He tried to ignored it and placed his placket over himself.
He kinda hoped Kyle wouldn't read his message. Maybe Kyle blocked him, then his message wouldn't even reach his phone. This thought calmed him down a little bit.
He knew the message was more for his sanity than for really reaching out to Kyle, because he knew Kyle wouldn't answer. This message was one of his last hopes of bringing back his and Kyle's friendship.
It was simpler than that. Stan knew it. Getting clean would probably fix all his problems with Kyle, but he doesn't want to. He really doesn't. Maybe he will never be clean.
He felt himself slowly drifting away, this was the best part of his drinking sessions. It was so easy to fall asleep while being drunk. He ignored the notification sound that came from his phone.
He felt like he was in a different world.
1:13 a.m.
-Me
hey kyle i know you dont wanna have anything to do with me and i probably shouldn't even be texting you right now but i really fuckng miss you. It hurts not talking to you like at all. i dont even know if you will read this but everything just feels so wrong without you.
sorry if this is annoying or stupid idk
1:20 a.m.
-Kyle
wtf stan are you ok? Did you drink again?
1:26 a.m.
-Kyle
Dude answer please i mean it i'm worried
1:31 a:m
-Kyle
Stan please answer
1:44 a:m
-Kyle
I don' t care I'm coming over now
Stan heard how his bedroom door opened. The thought of his father already being home terrified him. It would mean a lot of trouble for him, he hoped that it would be his mother not his father. That would only mean scolding instead of physical abuse.
He heard how someone picked up the empty water bottle besides his bed and sighed disappointed. It sounded like Kyle. Stan felt a rush of panic going through his body. He turned around, which suddenly made him feel really sick.
He looked in Kyle's shocked eyes, before he stood up and ran to the bathroom to trow up.
He heard how Kyle rushed after him. Right as he made it to the toilette he knelt down and threw up.
He felt Kyle holding his slightly longer hair out of his face with one hand . He doesn't remember the last time he went to a hairdresser. His other hand stroked oven his back soothingly. He kept whispering reassuring things like you're okay or you're gonna fell better if you let it out.
Stan doesn't know how long they sat there on the bathroom floor, before he stopped vomiting.
After he stopped, Kyle helped Stan leaning against the bathtub after he flushed the toilet. Before plumbing himself beneath him. Stan felt his head falling on Kyle's shoulder. Kyle wrapped an arm around his back and drew Stan closer to him.
Then they just sat there, enjoying each other’s presence.
Stan hasn't felt that good in weeks, although he just vomited. It felt grounding leaning against Kyle's body. He felt so warm. So warm that Stan felt the cold leaving his body for a moment.
After a few more minutes Kyle asked, "Do you feel good enough to go back to your room?" Stan just nodded tired.
He tried to stand up but got dizzy and almost fell, but the managed catching him. He put an arm over his shoulder to hold him up. Together they walked back to Stan's room. Kyle helped Stan sit down on his bed. He already felt less dizzy.
Kyle started going trough Stan's clothes and pulled out a new t-shirt and shorts. "Try put them on, if you get dizzy again, sit down and I will help you put it on. I'll get it you some water. Do you need anything else?" He waited patiently for Stans answer. After a few moment of processing the asked questing, he said, "No thank you." Kyle nodded and left the room.
Stan put on the clothes Kyle gave him. It felt so much better having fresh clothes on. He let himself fall onto his bed. He still felt drunk and hoped Kyle didn't noticed it.
God was he dumb he vomited the shit out of his body just ten minutes ago and Kyle saw the empty vodka bottle, of course he noticed it. He suddenly felt really ashamed, Kyle shouldn't see him like that, and he certainly shouldn't have to take care of him like he does right now.
He felt his eyelids getting heavy again. When Kyle came back with a glass of water and a painkiller, Stan opened his eyes, sat up again and took both the glass of water and the painkiller. After drinking the water he felt a lot better.
"What happened Stan, you didn't drink the whole bottle for no reason, so please talk to me I don't want you to suffer in silence," Kyle said with worry shining trough his voice.
They were now lying together in bed, and Kyle had his arms wrapped around Stan.
Before Stan even starts talking he felt his eyes watering. "M-my dad hit me and I kinda crashed out. My parents then fought really bad, with really bad I mean really bad. I heard some things broke and then they both drove away, you know they do that often after big fights. Yeah and then something snapped in me and I wanted to feel better so I drank again. If I'm being honest I drank really often, even after our fight. I swear Kyle I'm s-so sorry I don't want to lose you as my best friend plea-"
"It's okay stop talking. It was shitty from me leaving you alone that day, but Stan I'm really worried about you, you have to understand that. It's not easy being friends with you if you are drunk when we see us after school. I'm just really worried," Kyle explained.
Stan was now sobbing, "I-I'm really s-sorry I will try to get clean, but p-please don't leave me."
As an answer Kyle hugged him even tighter, "I swear I'm not going to leave you again."
Stan cried into Kyle's hoodie for at least half an hour, before he stopped. "Sorry about your hoodie, I'm washing it tomorrow," Stan said with a shaky voice.
"It's okay you don't have to do that," Kyle answered. Stan moved a little closer. Right now it felt like everything was alright in Stans live. It felt like that almost every time he was with Kyle. The rest of the world simply stopped existing for Stan when he was with him.
A few minutes later he felt and heard Kyle's soft snoring. He absolutely didn't expected his night to turn out like this. With Kyle laying beside him in his room at 3 a:m. Cuddling. Sometimes he allowed himself to feel like "this" toward Kyle, his best friend.
He knew Kyle doesn't feel the same towards him, but Stan still hoped that one day they would be together in Stan's bed, but not as friend but as boyfriends. Maybe one day, he thought to himself, before falling asleep in Kyle's arms.