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The blacktop at South Park Elementary was filled with screaming children. Running around to try to squeeze in as much as they can in their hour of freedom. Craig and his three friends were standing in the single sheet of snow with the Big Four (or Five if you count Butters). Deciding on what to do. Mindless arguments, couple of petty jabs here and there, yadda yadda; they finally decide on football. 5 against 5 should do it.
But Craig only has himself, Clyde, Tolkien, and Jimmy. If Tweek was here- wait. Where was Tweek?
Cartman, surprisingly, points out the lack of twitchy characters. “Stop. There’s only four on your side. Where’s the blonde one?”
“Yo.” Kenny muffled.
“No I mean the high strung, mentally unstable blonde that no one understands.”
“Present.” Butters answers.
“Why are there so many fucking-” Cartman begins. “Tweek! Where’s Tweek!”
“I thought it was too quiet around here.” Jimmy comments. All eyes fall on Craig.
“What?” He says in his signature deadpan tone. “Look, he just said he’s skipping out on recess… for the third time this week.”
“Your boyfriend bailed on you three times and you didn’t see a problem with it?” Stan presses.
“Five. He- he did it twice last week.”
“Oh bro, I’m sorry,” Clyde said in an annoyingly remorseful tone. “He’s stepping out on you.”
“Shut up!”
“But you don’t know where he is.” Kyle said as a matter of fact. “Want us to get involved? We can kick his ass for you.”
A subtle, sharp knot of worry and irritation tightened in Craig’s chest. Tweek bailing, supposedly keeping secrets from him of all people. Is he actually stepping out on him?
No, he shook those thoughts away. “That’s not necessary, in fact I know where he is.” He lies. “Just give me fifteen minutes and we’ll play.” He leaves the pestering boys behind and goes into the school.
“We’re not actually gonna fight Tweek, right?” Butters wonders out loud. “He can punch like heck.”
“Not if we jump him.” Cartman suggests.
“He is fast though.” Tolkien comments.
“Damnit, we’re gonna have to plan this.” Cartman takes a stick and starts drawing in the snow.
As Craig walked through the empty hallways, he thought about how stupid this was. He and Tweek were good; they were supposed to be. They have got better at communication and all that jazz. After the superhero civil war bullshit, they haven’t really fought. Craig trusted Tweek, so it kinda hurts that Tweek is keeping something from him.
He sighs. “Tweek, this better be a misunderstanding.”
Craig was about to walk past the gymnasium, when he heard a loud, intense violin melody from the slightly propped open double doors. He lets himself in and it’s deserted. It’s been that way since girls’ volleyball season ended. Craig finds himself besides some bleachers. He heard two voices.
“You have to grab me lower than that.”
“Come on, Bae. How many times have we done this?”
That second voice was definitely his boyfriend. The first was a girl’s? He walks around the bleachers and stops visibly confused.
Laid out on the blue wrestling mats was Tweek, wearing an oversized, loose grey t-shirt and sweatpants instead of his usual button-down.
He was dancing. With a matching-sweatpants-wearing Bebe Stevens.
They were spinning, her hand on his shoulder and his hand on his waist. Their free hands interlocked. Stepping in perfect sync to the up-tempo violin strings on the Apple stereo. Tweek didn’t even look twitchy; he looked incredibly focused. His eyes glaring with so much trust and confidence that Craig had once thought were just for him.
His eyes locked onto Bebe's as he guided her through a sharp box step.
“1,2,3,4,5,6. 1,2,3,4,5,6. Alright, that was good!” Tweek praises his partner.
“Great. Let’s go for the lift.”
“Agh! I can never get it!” Tweek steps back with his arms wide open. “Okay!”
Bebe starts leaping towards him. Unfortunately Craig made his presence known behind her.
“Ahem.” He loudly clears his throat, very annoyed.
“CRAIG??” Too shocked by Craig’s appearance, he didn’t catch Bebe and they both went down. Bebe sprawled on top of him.
“Move.” He simply pick Bebe off him so he can chew his boyfriend out. “You skipped recess five times. Bailed on all our friends. Just so you can be with her!” Craig’s voice drops an octave when he says “her”. Uh oh, he’s showing emotions.
“Wait Craig! It-it’s not what you think!”
“Not what I think? You lied to me!”
“I didn’t lie-”
"I thought we were good, Tweek. If you wanted to hang out with Bebe, you could have just said so. But instead you’re running off to do... whatever weird, secret ballroom dancing stuff this is? It’s a dick move."
“Craig, oh my god, let me speak! It’s for a performance!”
“What performance?”
“If you’re done with your temper tantrum.” Bebe finally speaks up. Turning off the music that was inappropriately going on during this argument.
“It’s not a tantrum.” Craig says back to his normal way of speaking.
Bebe rolled her eyes so far back it hurts. She picks Tweek up with her. “There’s no weird scandal going on. I’m going to the Ren Faire in Denver later this month and I signed up to perform.” She takes the flyer from her pocket and gives it to Craig.
“I needed a dance partner for the song I picked-”
“Bebe asked me cause I was already a fan of Vocaloid. And born for the stage.” Tweek says cocky.
“Right.” Bebe playfully shoves him. And he laughs it off. Not really helping his case in Craig’s mind.
“And Tweek’s the only guy in our grade that doesn’t get insecure about holding a girl’s hand for 5 minutes. Or smell like dirt. No offense.”
“None taken. Till you said no offense.” Craig flips her off. “Okay.. but why didn’t you just say so, Babe?”
“You know damn well the guys would give me shit for dancing with a girl. You just did. And this dance is hard enough as it is. I needed to focus! So no hard feelings?”
Craig stared at them for a long moment. The knot in his chest loosened, replaced by his stubbornness. He walks across and sits on the bleachers.
“Since everything is out in the open, you don’t mind if I sit here and watch?”
Tweek blinks, looks at Bebe, who just shrugs. "Uh... okay. From the top, Bebe?"
The rehearsal started back up, the dramatic violin filling the empty gym once more. But the two blondes should have known better, the fourth grade boys aren’t known for minding their business. Especially since not too long ago, they believed Tweek was in an affair. Craig wasn’t gonna be a solo audience for long.
Craig sits, honestly in awe of his boyfriend. As he watched him dance literal circles around Bebe. Tweek was truly the definition of hidden talents. Craig snapped out his stupor when his text notification went off.
Clyde: Bro did you find Tweek? Where are you?
Craig: in the gym
Shortly after, Craig’s three friends walked into the gymnasium and caught up to him. Just as Bebe and Tweek were attempting to do the lift again.
“What are you doing here?” Craig asks.
“You said you were at the gym so- HEY HEY!” Clyde starts then runs into the mat. Tweek drops Bebe accidentally again.
“Mother fuck- Clyde!” Bebe screams.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with him?! And you Tweek! I thought we were friends.”
“Clyde, we really don’t have time for this. We have a gig to prepare for.” Bebe says.
“Don’t tell me to calm down you- gig?”
“They’re going to a Ren Faire. They’re doing a waltz together there. It ain’t that deep.” Craig explains.
“Ha! Lame!”
“It’s not lame, Tolkien!” Tweek retorts.
“Seriously? Oh phew, what a relief.” Clyde immediately deflated. “For Craig’s sake, at least. And to think we were gonna jump you cause we thought you were stepping out on Craig.”
“Wait what?”
“That r-reh-reminds me. We should probably text the group chat. Say plans have changed.” Jimmy comments.
“WAIT WHAT?!”
“It doesn’t matter, honey. Guys, sit down. You gotta see this.”
“Sure.” Clyde sits on the bleachers followed by Tolkien and Jimmy.
“Uhh.. oh my god.” Tweek pinches his nose. “I hate my friends.”
“We’re not here dude, just dance!” Tolkien says.
Tweek goes into first position with Bebe. “How’d you get past your friends?”
“Wendy was the one who told me about the Faire.” She presses play the stereo. “Just lock in.”
The music picked up, and despite the audience, the two of them moved into an impressive rhythm.
Tweek guides Bebe into a sweeping natural turn, their feet gliding smoothly across the wrestling mat to execute the classic rise and fall of the waltz with surprising precision. His eyes locked onto Bebe's as he holds a rigid frame and leads her through a sharp looking Box Step. Every time the music hits a heavy downbeat, they fluidly transition into a Chassé. Their movements perfectly aligned as Tweek counterbalances Bebe's weight with a low dip. Picking her up and keeping himself steady so Bebe can do a beautiful sweeping Whisk. If she was wearing a dress she would look more impressive.
“He looks good out there.” Jimmy says.
“For someone who can’t poke the hole in a juice box, he sure is graceful.” Clyde comments. Then Craig slaps him upside the head. Tweek takes a deep breath, annoyed, choosing to ignore that.
“Yeah but I don’t know if it’s worth it, if it means to dance that close to a girl.” A new voice appeared next to Craig.
“Butters?” Craig jumps.
“I mean, there’s no cash prizes for performing at the Ren Faire right?” Butters continues.
“How’d you figure out it was for Ren Faire?” Clyde asks.
“Context clues, dumbass. I heard of it and where else are you gonna dance the waltz? Anyway, why can’t you lift Bebe up, Tweek?”
Tweek didn’t attempt the lift, it’s like Butters knows he’s failing. He lets go of Bebe and glares directly at Butters. “Butters, if you're gonna stay, shut up!” He groans and goes back to holding Bebe’s waist.
“Sorry, all you Tweek! Little gay, but all you!”
“I’m gonna kill my friends-”
“Tweekers, I wasn’t expecting this big of an audience.” Bebe whispers.
"It’s ok Bebe," Tweek whispers back, trying to keep his footing while a newly-jealous Clyde is staring him down. "As long as those four don't come in, we'll be-”
The heavy double doors of the gymnasium groaned.
Stan pushed the gym door open, stepping through with Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman trailing right behind him. "Knock knock, is this where you dudes went?"
"Oh, God damnit," Tweek jeers, his shoulders drooped.
Later, with little time left and even little Tweek’s patience remaining, a whole peanut gallery of fourth grade boys closest to Tweek just made themselves comfortable on the bleachers. Just watching this usually nervous boy waltzing with one of the girls in their class. And they’re not fighting over who leads or nothing. It was profoundly weird to them.
“This is trippy, I just never took Tweek as a dancer.” Stan comments as he watches Tweek slides on his knees towards Bebe. “Especially something that would take this much precision. Hey Tweek, what’s your secret?” Tweek just growls in response.
“I’m just saying if Bebe wanted a dance partner. I would have been all over her- I mean that. It can’t be that hard to learn.” Kyle boasts.
Stan fake coughs. “Cough cough youcan’tdance coughs.”
“Well better than smelling Tweek’s coffee breath all day!” Kyle retorts.
Bebe’s nose scrunches up like she just noticed that. Tweek gives her a look that says shut up.
“Don’t be jealous of my Tweek, little miss perfect.” Craig says, referring to Kyle. He takes a snapshot of Tweek by himself on his phone. “Besides, I don’t think any one of us can do this dance.”
“Yeah, it’s like Rewrite the Stars.” Jimmy says.
“Oh I love that song!” Butters begins. “Why don’t we rewrite the stars?”
“Say you were made to be mine?” Kenny joins in.
“GUYS!” The dancers scold them, missing a step. “Argh!”
“Don’t even worry about it, guys!” Craig calls out.
“I don’t know, remember when they tried to do the lift?” Tolkien says. “Tweek can’t carry Bebe for more than a second.”
“I believe that, Tweek got weak nerd arms.” Cartman comments, drinking a cola. “I told him, Tweek you shouldn’t have quit boxing. I signed you up for that class for a reason.”
“Stan and I did!” Kyle snaps back.
“Semantics.”
“Gah!” Tweek twitched out for the first time since he started dancing that day. He pauses the song. “I don’t have weak nerd arms!!”
“Tweek, calm down!” Bebe reassure him. “You don’t need to panic. But they’re right. We need to get the lift right. You just have to hold me in the air a little longer.”
Tweek massages his temple. Trying to push his throbbing vein down. “You’re right. You’re right. Let’s start 16 counts before the lift to lead up to it.” He rewinds on Bebe’s phone and plays the song again.
Kenny really listened to the lyrics.
There is nowhere for you to escape
This rusted chains will lock you in place
The more you fight, the harder it gets
“Ok is it just me or is this song kinda, rapey?” He muffled.
“Yknow, you got a point there Ken.” Cartman agrees. “What in the Diddy?”
“What’s this song called?” Butters got up, walk down to the mat to look at the phone playing.
“Butters, sit down!” Craig demands.
Butters heed him no mind and went to google the song. Standing on the mat and being a roadblock to the dancers.
“Dude, get out the way!” Tweek demands. They were about to attempt the lift again.
“Aight, calm down.” Butters says offhandedly, stepping back. “Oh, here’s why Kenny! It’s about royal Romanin family incest! The brother tries to hook up with the sister through poison.”
“What?” Tweek tweaked.
“Ohh! No wonder Bebe chose Tweek as her partner. Only the class cokehead would be into some weird stuff like that!” Cartman says it. Behind his back, Tweek hears everyone but his Craig laugh.
And Tweek just snaps.
“Enough!!” He rages. Bebe, poor her, didn’t stop in time from running towards Tweek for the lift as she was already too close to the angry boy.
But to everyone’s shock, as the violins hit their absolute crescendo, Tweek grabs Bebe by the waist, digging his sneakers into the wrestling mat, lifting and spinning her seamlessly into the air.
He did it. He did the move perfectly. All out of anger and spite.
Bebe was released, back on her two feet before she had time to process her time in the air. Tweek was already making his way in front of the astounded peanut gallery.
“This is why I didn’t tell you assholes anything! This was important to Bebe! To me! But no you just HAD to get your jokes in! We already have a move that’s super hard to master and now I may never do it cause you guys got in my head! I-!”
“Babe!” Craig walks down the bleachers and hugs Tweek. “We just saw it! You lifted Bebe like way off the ground and spun her like nothing!”
“I- what?”
“Yeah man!” Bebe comes up from behind him and slaps his back. “That was perfect!” The peanut gallery gives him a golf clap.
“Dude’s still ripped!” Clyde boisterously says. “I couldn’t do that. Not right now, at least.”
“Huh,” Tweek says calming down. “I was right you guys would give me shit doing this. But you guys actually talking shit made me work harder.”
Bebe wipes the sweat off her face. “Hey man, whatever it takes.”
“We got you. I got you.” Craig reassures.
Tweek takes his hand in Craig’s and smiles. He looks at the rest of the fourth grade boys. “Hey, can you guys do me a solid?”
The outdoor amphitheater at the Renaissance Festival was packed to the brim with tourists eating giant turkey legs, wearing tight trousers, or flowy dresses and cheap flower crowns. Up on the wooden stage, the festival’s orchestra tuned their instruments. The sharp twine of a lute and the deep groan of a cello cutting through the humid afternoon air.
In the absolute front row of the benches sat the South Park boys. None of them were dressed up. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and Craig sat on a long wooden plank while Butters, Tolkien, Clyde and Jimmy were on the plank behind them. Cartman was aggressively trying to bite into the aforementioned turkey leg he purchased.
"I still don't understand why we had to drive two hours into the middle of the woods just to watch people act like they don't have indoor plumbing," Cartman grumbled, wiping grease from his mouth. "And it smells like horse poop out here."
"Like you had anything better to do! We’re here as a solid to Tweek." Kyle said.
“And save those comments when Tweek is on stage. Remember what he said, ‘just act like dicks like you were at rehearsals’.” Stan says with air quotes.
“Either way, this should be a fun show! Even if the song they chose is about poisoning your sister.” Butters happily says.
"Yeah, well, Tweek better not mess up," Clyde muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the bench. He was staring intensely at the stage, his eyes darting behind the heavy velvet curtains. "If he drops Bebe, I'm literally going to have to jump up there and rescue her."
“He’s not gonna drop her, dipshit. You saw them practice.” Craig comments.
“You worry about your boyfriend, I’ll worry about my girlfriend!”
Either way, Craig got his phone out to record and waited with anticipation to see his love finally perform. He genuinely smiled. He knows he was expected to rip on him while he dance, but the pride he felt for his boyfriend was too strong.
Finally, the introduction to Cantarella began to play. The original song the kids were dancing to played over the loud speakers. With an extra live performance accompanying it too. A live, masquerade violin player stepped out into the wings. Pulling a frantic, intense melody from the strings, playing along with the recording. That instantly hushed the crowd. Followed by live drums and guitar and keyboard in the pit.
Two small figures stepped out from opposite sides of the stage.
Bebe and her girl friends really went all out with the full, elegant masquerade attire. Bebe wore a sweeping, layered crimson gown that shimmered in the sunlight. Her eyes hidden behind a delicate golden mask adorned with feathers. Tweek rocked a dark, equally shimmering midnight blue tailcoat and tailored trousers. A sharp silver masquerade mask resting firmly over his eyes. His usual messy blonde hair was actually combed back. His jaw locked, holding a straight face, as he moved closer to Bebe.
"Holy crap," Stan whispered, blinking. "Is Tweek wearing glitter on his face? How obvious can you be?” This makes the first row of boys minus Craig laugh. As he’s trying to keep his camera focused to get the clearest recording of Tweek and Bebe (mostly Tweek).
The heavy downbeat of the waltz hit. On stage, the two blondes move in practiced perfection.
Without a single hint of his usual twitching, Tweek glided across the wooden stage, his boots clicking in perfect sync with the live strings. He caught Bebe’s hand, instantly locking into a flawless, rigid frame. They did it all: natural turn, chassés, whisking, turn, the hover telemark. Tweek even did the sliding knee move towards Bebe. Needless to say the audience was impressed that two ten-year-olds had the moxie to pull off a waltz at this high tempo.
Down in the front row, Kenny let out a muffled chuckle through his parka. "Look at Tweek's face under the mask. He looks like he's trying to remember if he turned off the coffee maker back home."
Clyde leaned over, snickering loudly into his hand. "Dude, look at his posture. He's standing so straight he looks like there’s a dildo shoved into him."
On stage, Tweek’s left ear twitched under the silver mask. Even with the live orchestra and the excited murmurs of the crowd, he could perfectly distinguish the dumbass chuckles of his friends in the front row.
He didn't break character, but a familiar, fiery spark of pure spite ignited right in his chest. His grip on Bebe’s waist tightened, his steps becoming sharper, heavier, with more fever as the singer goes on through the speakers.
Even though this seems like ordinary love,
I'll lay my trap so you fall for it
I will make sure that even in the smallest cracks,
I won't leave any footprints behind
He utilized their laughter as fuel, driving his feet into the stage as he led Bebe into a breathtaking, sweeping whisk that of course, looked even better now that Bebe is wearing a flowy dress. It had the middle-aged women dressed as princesses in the second row gasping in awe.
"Whoa," Kyle murmurs, his smirk fading into genuine impression. "He's actually killing it."
“Remember, insults.” Cartman says.
“Oh yeah. Uh, it’s not that cool. He still looks like a rejected drag queen contestant.” That got the boys to laugh and to be shushed at.
“Hey! Our buddy asked us to do this!” Butters told the shushers.
The music built toward its grand crescendo, the violin crying out a dramatic, final sequence of notes. Tweek didn't hesitate. He planted his boots, waiting for Bebe to run at him before he firmly grabs her by the waist, and effortlessly lifts her up seamlessly into the air. He spins her a full 360 degrees above his head, holding her steady as the music soared. You never would have guessed they had trouble with this one particular move.
Tweek brought her down and dips Bebe, ending the dance at that pose.
The amphitheater erupted. The tourists jumps to their feet, a massive wave of applause and cheers echoing through the trees. Even the South Park boys applauded, very impressed with their performance.
The two kids couldn’t have felt more proud of themselves. Bebe, flushed and absolutely beaming with adrenaline, picks herself up and turns to Tweek. In a burst of pure gratitude and joy, she throws her arms around his shoulders and plants a huge, resounding kiss right on his cheek.
"You did it, Tweekers! That was perfect!"
In the front row, Clyde instantly grips his own hair, letting out a soft, devastated groan. "I swear, if Tweek turns out to be Bi, we have to jump him.” This time Tolkien hits him upside the head.
“Shut up and be happy.”
But good ol’Craig Tucker didn't care. Not even a little bit. He didn't jump up to oppose Bebe or nothing; his face didn't drop into a frown. Instead, he just sat there, a genuinely proud, soft smile painting his lips as he looked up at the stage.
Tweek pulled back from Bebe, catching Craig’s eye through the eye-slits of his silver mask. He offers him a small, breathless smile. He lifts a gloved hand to his lips, and playfully blows a dramatic air kiss straight towards Craig.
Without skipping a beat, Craig raises his hand, casually "catching" the air kiss out of the sky smoothly. And shoves it directly into his jacket pocket for safekeeping.
"All right, fine," Cartman grumbled, clapping half-heartedly while still holding his turkey. "That lift was pretty cool. But Tweek still looks like a French pirate."
"Shut up, Cartman. The show is over." Craig says smoothly, his eyes never leaving Tweek’s as the blondes walk off stage and joins them.