It's finally here. The sequel! I'll work on the mini stories in between, but I need to work on this now.
I apologize that this took so long to write. I was seriously uninspired and the first version of this chapter was bollocks. After Chapter 16 of "Bromance," I really never want to write a bad chapter again.
All the stars up in the sky and leaves in the trees...all the broken bits that make you trip up and the grassy bits in between...all the matter in the world, that's how much that I like you.
She said, what?
He said, let me try and explain again.
Right, birds can fly so high and they can shit on your head, yeah. They can almost fly into your eye and make you feel so scared, but when you look at them and you see that they're beautiful...that's how I feel about you.
Right, that's how I feel about you.
She said, what are you talking about?
He said...You.
She said, thanks. I like you, too.
He said, cool.
"Later, dude!" Kyle called as he, Cartman, and Kenny walked away from Stan's house.
A ten year old Stan Marsh waved at them from his porch. When it looked as though they were well on their way, Stan went back inside, shutting the door.
Finally, he thought. In the very corners of his vision, Stan could see everything turning to shit. With a sigh, Stan trudged upstairs, opened his 'special cabinet,' and poured himself a drink. One shot had long since stopped working. Usually, it took Stan three shots in order for him to feel any better. But today had been especially trying, so Stan figured today was a finish-the-bottle kind of day.
Stan poured his fourth shot. Some part of him wondered if all this drinking would kill him. Some part of him figured he ought to be more worried about his premature death. The majority had stopped caring.
Around his seventh shot, Stan thought he heard the door open, but he couldn't be sure.
"Hey, Stan. I think I left my—Stan?! Stan, are you drinking?!"
Blearily, Stan watched Kyle stalk over and wrench the bottle out of his grip. Stan pouted, reflexes too slow to really respond.
"What is this, Stan?!" the Jew demanded.
"It's whiskey," Stan replied.
"I know what it fucking is! Why are you drinking it?! I thought we were through this!"
"Because life sucks," Stan replied. "And that," Stan pointed to the bottle, "makes it bearable."
"I can't believe you!" Kyle seethed.
"Are you gonna walk away again?" Stan asked abruptly.
Disturbed, Kyle frowned. "What?"
"Last time I was really drunk, I told you I loved you, and you walked away. Are you gonna walk away again? I know I said 'fuck you,' but I was really hoping you wouldn't actually walk away. If you are, do it now. It really sucked last time. I'm too drunk right now for it to hurt, so if you are, do it now."
Stan turned to his bed, stumbling. Deftly, Kyle caught the brunet's arm and helped the other boy to the bed. Kyle carefully laid Stan down turning the other on his side. Quickly, Kyle ran to the bathroom, grabbed a bucket, and sprinted back. Stan had sat himself up, his face visibly brightening as Kyle returned.
"You're not walking away, are you?" Stan asked, worry creeping into his sluggish words.
"No, Stan," Kyle replied, something in him aching. Gently, he laid Stan back down. Kyle took his own shoes off and joined Stan on the bed, spooning behind the brunet and wrapping an arm around Stan's waist. Sleepily, Stan smiled, his arm resting on Kyle's, fingers interlaced. In reply, Kyle tightened his arm around Stan.
"Never again," Kyle promised.
Bebe watched from the hallway as another creepy man dropped her mother off at home. She wasn't used to all these unattractive men dating her mother; something had changed, and now her mother was only attractive these disgusting men that leered at anything that could develop breasts. Her mother always refused to allow the men inside their own home, and Bebe wasn't too stupid to figure out why. She remembered when she'd first started developing and the boys all acted like apes around her.
It didn't take much to deduce that those men could probably act much worse.
"Mom," Bebe muttered when the woman tiredly entered the house. "Why are you going on dates with those losers?"
Bebe's mother smiled at her forlornly. "I'm…not as young as I used to be. Remember how I told you that I developed first, and all the boys crowded around me and gave me whatever I liked?"
Bebe nodded. She also remembered that it robbed her mother of any real intelligence. Instead of her mother studying and making something of herself, Bebe's mother used her breasts to get to where she was.
Apparently, that place was dating disgusting old men.
"Well, I suppose I'm to blame; I'm not as beautiful and…perky as I once was."
"You should have studied," Bebe replied, accusation lining her words.
"I have always relied on the kindness of others."
Bebe frowned—those words always spelled trouble. Bebe couldn't afford to be anything like her mother. While she couldn't hide her body anymore, she could at least make sure the guys she dated weren't only interested in her body. It was essential that she never depend on any man's kindness, because it always came with a price. She'd told Wendy as much on the phone later that evening, when her mother had gone on another "date."
"How about Kyle?" Wendy suggested, absently checking her nails. "He's such a nice guy. Remember how he didn't want to know how he was second on our 'hottest boys' list? He doesn't care about looks at all. And he's super smart. I'm still trying to figure out how he's beating me out, grade-wise."
"Kyle…" Bebe whispered and smiled to herself.
Yeah, Kyle was nice.
"It all looks like shit to me."
Kyle smiled encouragingly at Stan. "I know. We'll work on that."
Three days had passed since Stan woke up in Kyle's arms, hung over and miserable. His head was exploding, his stomach was churning, and his bladder was set to burst; but Stan had never felt quite so loved as he did that morning, so he stayed put until Kyle woke up and mumbled something about Stan taking a shower.
"Join me?" Stan had asked, voice hoarse.
Kyle just laughed.
Since then, the red-head had not left Stan's side. Morning, day, and night, Kyle was there to try to cheer Stan up. Though Kyle hadn't had much luck, Stan was growing more and more hopeful himself.
After all, Kyle was still there.
"Why is everything shit to you?"
"There's just no point, Kyle," Stan replied morosely. "What do I have to look forward to? We live in a system we can't change, in a town we can't change, with families that refuse to change. We're gonna be stuck in this awful limbo forever. That's maddening, Kyle."
Frowning, Kyle grabbed Stan's hand and walked to Stark's pond. They stood in front of the still lake for a while, until Kyle tossed a rock in.
"See the ripples?" Kyle asked.
"Don't you dare Pocahontas me, Broflovski."
"No, idiot," Kyle smiled. "Really. Pay attention. One tiny rock sent out all those ripples to almost the edge of the lake. Stan, if you don't make the effort to see what's worthwhile about life, nothing will be worthwhile. If you don't want something, nothing will happen. The lake stays still when nothing happens to it. But when there is a small catalyst, like that rock—like your motivation—then ripples happen. Then you see something worth living for."
"I'm ten, Kyle," Stan reasoned. "I shouldn't be thinking about that stuff."
"Age doesn't matter, dude," Kyle shrugged. "You're worrying about this a little early. So what? C'mon, let's go find something you'll appreciate."
"Like what?"
"Like flowers. Let's go look at some pretty flowers."
Stan sighed, but followed regardless. Vaguely, he realized he hadn't let go of Kyle's hand. In the back of his mind, he registered that his hand was a little sweaty and he desperately hoped Kyle wouldn't notice, but their hands fit perfectly.
Kenny had noticed something was off with the universe when Stan suddenly aged. He felt they'd been nine forever, but suddenly, Stan turned ten and change had nearly happened.
And then it stopped again.
Kenny wasn't stupid. He knew it would take something monumental to stop whatever trap they were stuck in. Kenny kept dying and coming back; Cartman never lost weight; Kyle never caught up with the times; Stan was always amazed at how much more stupid the world around him was. However, suddenly Stan started seeing the world as shit and right when their cycle was supposed to break…
South Park struck again.
Just like it did when Kyle moved. Just like it did when Kenny died for longer than a day. Just like it did when Cartman had changed. Just like always.
One day, though, the shift occurred again. Unlike Stan's birthday, the shift was subtle and nearly imperceptible. But, as Kenny watched from the top of South Park's police office in his Mysterion outfit, he could see the changes happening.
Mr. Garrison was a man again and this time, he didn't chase down Mr. Slave. He'd talked to Slave and Big Gay Al and apologized for his behavior. Slave and Al understood and, since then, the three have enjoyed a mutually beneficial friendship; Garrison had even lined up a date with a man from another town for the weekend.
Sharon and Randy Marsh agreed that divorce was a bad idea for the sake of their children, but decided to see a marriage counselor; three weeks in, their counselor had suggested frequent date nights so that the two adults could fall back in love. They were walking home now, hand in hand, Sharon's cheeks red and Randy smiling bashfully at her.
The movie theater guy moved. He fucking moved. He finally finished school, lost all the acne, and moved out of South Park to go to college.
Kenny was so sure that the change had halted, but then again, he hadn't noticed the signs with Stan. Stan, who'd become and alcoholic—Kenny was sure that the world wouldn't change anymore, but then Kyle found him. Suddenly, the world was a little brighter and things started happening in earnest around town.
And it all started the moment Kyle held Stan.
Kenny was tempted to kill himself again, to see if he would come back, but he instinctively knew that the world hadn't changed that much. Still, whatever hold South Park had on the lives of him and his friends was slowly loosening and the shift was impossible to ignore.
Glancing around, Kenny noticed that Kyle had dragged Stan to the park to look at the flowers. The flowers all probably looked like shit to Stan, but then, Stan wasn't looking at the flowers. As Kyle bent down to sniff at the petunias, hand still clasped with Stan's, Stan stared down at their interlocked digits. Seemingly mesmerized by the sight, Stan didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything. Kyle stood back up and encouraged Stan to smell the flowers, too, and Stan did so mechanically. Kenny moved closer, hoping to catch strings of their conversation.
"See, they don't smell like shit, do they?" Kyle asked brightly.
"…No," Stan replied, sounding odd, "they…they don't."
"Is something wrong, Stan?"
Stan stood back up and stared strangely at the Jew. "They smelled like shit yesterday. When you told me to come alone, they smelled like shit."
"What about now?" Kyle murmured quietly.
Stan smiled—it was minute and strained, but it was the first real smile Kenny had seen on the brunet's face in a long time.
"They…smell like flowers. They look like flowers. Kyle, I can smell the flowers!"
Kyle cheered and offered his hand to high-five Stan, but Stan lunged forward and hugged the red-head desperately. Bemused, Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan regardless. They stood there, Stan's head tucked in the crook of Kyle's shoulder. The Jew never once pushed him away, rubbing soothing circles on the small of Stan's back.
"I can smell the flowers," Stan repeated.
His humor returning, Kyle smirked. "I think we established that, Stan."
"It's because of you," the brunet replied instead.
Kyle frowned. "What?"
"I tried," Stan sighed, "I tried really hard to not see the world for the absolute hell it is. When you walked away from me the first time…I didn't see a point; I stopped trying and just depended on the alcohol because I had nothing else. But, you're here now and you haven't left and I can smell the flowers, Kyle."
Kenny's eyes widened in understanding as Kyle's narrowed in thought.
"I'm never leaving again, Stan."
"I love you, Kyle."
The Jew grinned, his arms tightening around his friend. "I love you, Stan."
"Kyle, I love you," Stan insisted.
"Well, I love you more," Kyle replied.
But Kyle still didn't understand. That was fine, Kenny mused, turning to patrol the rest of the city.
As long as Kyle kept holding Stan's hand, it would all be fine.
Bebe and Kyle had been spending a lot of time together, lately, Stan mused. For a while now, Stan had been hanging out more with Kenny, somehow frustrated whenever Bebe showed up at Kyle's. Their sleepovers were becoming fewer and farther in between and Kyle was starting to notice.
Twelve year old Stan couldn't offer much of an explanation, though.
"Kenny," Stan began, smiling at the blond, "Wanna come over today?"
Kenny grinned. "Always, dude."
They walked away, Stan glancing back at Kyle, who was waiting by the school exit for Bebe and glaring holes into Stan. Stan was about to turn around to apologize and invite Kyle, but Bebe walked out and hugged Kyle and Kyle was forced to look away. Bitterly, Stan huffed and started talking to Kenny.
Kenny grinned, knowing that Stan was jealous of Bebe and Kyle. Still, Cartman had been angry lately—more than usual—and had been spending all this time at the gym. At first, none of them thought Cartman would actually manage anything or that he was trying to cheat his way into some scheme, but the overweight boy had lost ten pounds in the last two weeks alone. Either way, that left Kenny mostly alone until Stan had decided to spend more time with the blond boy.
Things were moving forward, Kenny noticed, and perhaps that meant Stan's feelings for Kyle had subsided and he didn't know how to behave around Kyle anymore. Kenny shrugged when Stan asked for his opinion on Bebe, but managed to make the brunet laugh at one of his jokes, and Kenny was treated to Stan's crystalline eyes sparkling beautifully.
"You're the best, Ken," Stan chuckled. "I love you, man."
And then Kenny realized that he loved Stan, too.
Shit, Kenny thought morosely, even as he grinned at Stan as happily as he could.
"Why have you been avoiding me?" Kyle demanded, glaring at his super best friend.
"I…I just needed to figure some stuff out, Kyle," Stan replied miserably, hands in his pockets.
The Jew's eyes twitched behind his large, thick glasses. He was wearing suspenders, Stan noticed with some mirth—as if he were ninety instead of twelve. Kyle was quite simply the geekiest person in the seventh grade, but it didn't stop Stan from feeling strange.
Attracted-to-Kyle strange.
He'd tried to distance himself from the Jew and, as a result, spent more time with an indulgent Kenny. Stan glanced at said blond, who sat at the bench a ways away from him and Kyle. They were supposed to be going to the movies—without Kyle—when the Jew had finally cornered Stan and demanded an explanation.
"I've been there through it all, Stan," Kyle hissed. "Everything, Stan! I'm your best friend and I love you more than anybody!"
Stan frowned. Kyle loved him? There was something wrong there.
"Please tell me," Kyle begged softly.
"I…" the brunet sighed, "I hate that Bebe is talking to you all the time."
Kyle's brows furrowed. "What?"
"I dunno, man," Stan groaned, running anxious fingers through his hair, "She's always around. It bugs me. I guess…I guess I thought that since Bebe was worming her way in, I should try hanging out with other friends?"
Kyle's eyes narrowed as he stared at Stan in contemplation. Finally, he flicked Stan's forehead.
"Liar. You were always terrible at lying. I know you don't like Bebe, but we're just friends. And even if we were dating, I've dealt with you and Wendy just fine. Please, the truth."
Finally, Stan shook his head sadly. "I don't know, Kyle."
"What?"
"I don't know. I just feel weird around you. I get mad when you spend time with Bebe instead of me and I know that's crap because I don't own you, but… And then, I feel like I have to be around you at all times and I think…you were there for me when I needed you most and if not for you, the world would still look like shit. I think I'm scared of you going away from me because what if it all comes back? What if you're the only thing keeping me sane?"
Kyle blinked and swallowed nervously.
"Stan, do you like me?"
Stan's cheeks flushed. "I…huh?"
"Do you like me?"
"Kyle…I love you."
Kyle nodded. "How?"
Stan looked away uncomfortably. "You're my everything. I love my family and I love Kenny, but you…you've got your own tier, dude."
Kyle bit his lip. "What I'm about to say is going to sound really, really gay, but… Stan, you're my everything, too. You've been there for me for everything and I would be lost without you. I love my family and Kenny, also, but… But, dammit Stan, you mean the world to me. You're like my brother, but more than that. I love you, too, Stan. When you figure out what's going on, don't hesitate to tell me; but don't shut me out, either.
I will never leave you again, Stan," Kyle urged, his hand reaching for Stan's and clinging desperately. Stan's fingers tightened in reply. "Don't try to leave me. We'll figure this out together."
Stan smiled, nodding. "Even if I have a boner for you?"
Kyle cracked and laughed, the tension in the air finally dissipating. "Even if you're harboring some gay crush on me. We'll go on a few dates!"
Stan laughed and hugged Kyle, who easily hugged the brunet back.
"Is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Kyle quipped.
"Both!"
As they laughed, Kenny sat on the bench watching them. An odd feeling he'd been feeling more and more often stirred in his chest as Kenny watched his time with Stan ending. He'd gotten spoiled, Kenny had. Since Stan's feelings had begun manifesting and confusing the brunet enough to ignore Kyle, Stan and Kenny had spent more time together.
Somewhere along the way, Kenny realized that Stan Marsh was pretty much the greatest person in existence.
But then Bebe showed up and Stan was torn between continuing to ignore Kyle and antagonizing the Jew for spending time with the blonde girl. Eventually, Kyle's stubbornness won and now Kenny was alone.
Again.
And, with every brilliant smile Stan flashed at Kenny, Kenny had fallen just a little more in love and had grown resentful of Kyle. Kyle, who was still a great friend and who cared about Kenny more than anyone had before—until Stan paid Kenny more attention, that is—was completely blind. Kenny scowled at the boys as they continued to joke around, the idea of their being in a relationship apparently amusing enough to spawn a fake relationship where Wendy would be the surrogate mother of their child.
Kyle was just so damn blind. Couldn't he see? Couldn't anyone see? How many times did Stan have to say he loved Kyle before the damn Jew fucking got it? How could someone as perfect as Stanley fucking Marsh just fall right into Kyle blind-as-fuck Broflovski's lap and how could Kyle not see it? It was maddening!
But as Kyle and Stan walked over, and as Kyle bid them both goodbye and encouraged them to enjoy their outing—"I have homework, dude! Don't worry about me!" he'd insisted when Stan asked if Kyle wanted to join—Kenny realized he had no right to judge Kyle.
Kenny had been blind, too; he'd been blind to Stan's charms until the brunet was stuck with him and now that he was realizing his own feelings, he wanted to be selfish and keep Stan to himself. So, he smiled as best he could—though it wasn't real anymore—and promised Kyle they'd hang out together soon. As they watched the Jew leave, Kenny turned to Stan and took in the abnormally somber expression on the brunet's face.
"So…you guys are pretty gay," Kenny said, breaking the silence as diplomatically as he could.
"Yeah," Stan agreed, a slow smile spreading on his face. "We are."
Kenny nodded and he knew: Stan Marsh was in love with Kyle Broflovski.
And very much not in love with Kenneth McCormick.
But, Kenny mused as they walked away from the park, passing by his graves that his family couldn't fit in the cemetery, Stan would still need time to let those feelings form and, in the meantime, Kenny would be there to spend time with him. Stan didn't need to know how Kenny felt just yet and Kyle didn't need to know how Stan felt.
That didn't stop time from marching forward.
Thirteen year old Stan couldn't stop staring at his reflection.
He was thirteen. When did that happen?
"Hey, man!" he heard, and turned to smile at Kyle, who had poked his head into the bathroom. "Checking yourself out?"
"It's been a while," Stan replied. "I never realized how handsome I was with all that cynicism crap; I'm damn sexy."
Kyle laughed, stopping beside Stan and laying a hand on the brunet's shoulder. "Yeah, you're one sexy beast."
"My birthday is tomorrow."
Kyle started. "Uh, yeah?"
"I'm turning fourteen and we're going to high school."
"Yes, that's usually the way things go." Kyle laughed.
"Kyle…weren't we nine years old for, like, ten years?" Stan asked, brows furrowed.
Kyle was about to deny it, but then he thought about it. Frowning, he realized that he did indeed feel older than fourteen, as if he'd spent a strangely long amount of time as a child. In fact, it wasn't until Stan's tenth birthday that Kyle realized he was already ten himself.
"I…yeah, you're right, actually."
"There's something weird about this place," Stan muttered. "Like South Park just stops time. Everything comes here eventually, but time doesn't move. Then, all of a sudden, time starts and we basically fast-forward to twelve. I'm just amazed that I'm still aging."
Kyle nodded, staring at the wall. "…Remember when I tried to move?"
"I'd rather not," Stan replied.
"But, do you?"
"Of course."
"I came back. It's like everything in the world just happened in such a way to bring me back. Like…I wasn't allowed to leave."
Stan frowned, remembering the sudden emergence of hybrid cars and of the smug storm. The adults were indeed prone to stupidity, but it seemed to happen in excess in South Park.
"We have to leave," Stan whispered.
"We will," Kyle swore. "You, me, Kenny, and even Cartman. We'll get the hell out of here."
Stan nodded and smiled at Kyle through the mirror. "Even Cartman, huh?"
Kyle grinned, albeit a little bitterly, "Not even fatass deserves to be stuck here."
"I'm going to be fourteen, Kyle," Stan repeated.
"The world isn't shit, Stan," Kyle replied.
Stan smiled, staring directly into Kyle's emerald irises. "No, it's not. It's just different."
Things had indeed changed, Stan thought. Now that high school had started, Kyle's style was entirely different from what it used to be. Contacts, tight jeans, Oxford shoes, and expensive-looking vests composed the majority of the Jew's closet nowadays. Stan smiled at himself in the mirror, his bangs just above his eyes. His black button down was open, revealing a dark blue shirt with an odd, red design on it. His glanced down at his high-top sneakers and skinny, dark jeans.
Cartman wasn't fat anymore and he was going to be Stan's lineman. Kenny got a job and was starting to buy himself clothes and food. Stan's parents had decided they no longer needed counseling and were doing great, as far as Stan could see. There were new teachers who came to the town who weren't there just because one of their teachers died.
But Kyle was still by his side—that had never changed. Not once, since Kyle had caught Stan drunk that day, had Kyle ever strayed far from Stan's side. Even as Stan tried to push him away in the midst of his confusion, Kyle had been persistent. And, in the end, Stan had finally realized why Bebe rubbed him the wrong way.
Bebe was clearly getting to know Kyle and things were moving towards Kyle and Bebe being in a relationship and it bugged Stan because he was head-over-heels, absolutely gaga in love with Kyle.
"By the way, why did you and Wendy break up this time?" Kyle asked, fixing his hair in the mirror.
Stan smiled fondly at the Jew. "I realized something important. We just weren't for each other."
Kyle leaned back and looked at Stan, eyebrow raised. They stared at each other, an easy smile on Stan's lips.
"But we're perfect for each other," Kyle finally said.
"Soul mates, even," Stan responded cheekily. He walked out of the bathroom, humming to himself. Kyle watched him go, convinced something significant had just happened, but unsure of what it was. That evening, when Stan's parents had gone and the entire class came over for Stan's midnight celebration, Kyle found himself humming the same song. Bebe sat beside him and handed him a drink, smiling at him.
"What are you humming?" she had asked.
Eyebrows raising, Kyle realized he hadn't really thought of what the song was until she'd asked.
"It's called Eres Para Mi. It's a Spanish song. Stan was humming it and it got stuck in my head," he shrugged.
"What does that mean?" Bebe wondered—she was taking Italian after all, unlike Stan and Kyle.
Kyle blinked and remembered Stan's mysterious smile and mischievous blue eyes. With a laugh, he shook his head.
"It's means, 'you are for me'."
Soul mates, indeed, Kyle thought, and didn't mind it when they played truth or dare and Cartman dared Stan to french kiss Kyle. Stan leaned back and laughed, a red flush across his cheeks. Slightly embarrassed, Kyle wiped his lips, but offered Stan a confident smile.
"You fags should just get a room," Cartman muttered, not expecting Stan and Kyle to actually go through with the dare and thoroughly disgusted—even more so when Kenny, holding a pillow firmly to his lap, excused himself to the bathroom. Later that evening, when everyone had passed out around the living room and Stan and Kyle were laying in Stan's bed, Cartman and Kenny asleep on Stan's floor, Stan poked Kyle's ribs.
"Are we okay?" Stan whispered. "I should've asked before I kissed you."
Kyle grinned, leaned over, and pecked his best friend on the lips. "Tú eres para mí, baby. Of course we're cool. I mean, as long as you plan on taking me to dinner tomorrow. I'm not that easy."
Stan snickered quietly, shoved Kyle so that the Jew was facing the window, then spooned against him. "Five star restaurant, I promise."
They chuckled quietly and just as Kyle's dreams started, Stan muttered something quietly in his ear. "Hm?" Kyle grunted.
"Yo soy para ti," Stan breathed, igniting an odd sensation in Kyle's chest.
"You charmer, you," Kyle laughed.
"Better warn Bebe she has competition."
Kyle chuckled, but he felt guilty for some reason.
It was forgotten in the morning, when they woke up to Cartman taking pictures of them and Kenny suspiciously holed up in the bathroom again. Years later, as an eighteen year old Stan sat against his headboard and Kyle lounged between the brunet's legs, Kyle realized it was because Bebe simply wasn't competition for Stan.
When Kenny McCormick was in seventh grade, he realized he had a die-hard crush on Stan Marsh. However, Stan only had eyes for Kyle Broflovski. So, Kenny nurtured Stan's obsession and did his best to stay clear.
It was better that way.
Years later, as Stan did his best to woo Kyle, Kenny sat in his bedroom with Butters Stotch and talked about how Kenny was a selfish idiot. The weight was lifted from Kenny's shoulders. So, he made a few mistakes in an effort to keep Stan to himself. It turned out for the best. In fact, Kenny was convinced it was one of the few things he did well.
Their first summer apart did wonders for everyone. Clyde managed to get published in a reputable literary magazine; Bebe came back from Cali with a tan and a new attitude; Butters came back excited and adorable; Shayna and Token contributed much in the way of improving some African children's lives; Cartman and Wendy survived their stay in Florida and were more in love than ever; Craig brought a caffeine-free Tweek back; Jimmy and Timmy really helped some handi-capable kids with no fatal shark attacks.
As for Stan and Kyle—they finally had sex. In Scotland, no less. They then proceeded to travel around Europe with Clyde (after conning another ten thousand from Tom Cruise) and had sex in:
1. The bathroom of a theatre in Manchester, England
2. The bottom of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France
3. The stony mountains of Kilvara, Ireland
4. Somewhere in Greece. They were pretty drunk
5. A nude beach in Italy, somewhere. Again, pretty drunk.
Kenny himself enjoyed his internship with Marvel and seemed to have a promising career as a cartoonist. In the end, it seemed that when the South Park children came back and met at Chef's grave to catch up, they had all been certain they could live without each other.
Which, of course, only meant that they needed to stick together even more. In the shade of the tree, the teenage population of South Park swore to stay in touch and to have biannual reunions, so as to never lose contact. As college neared and the threat of separation became imminent, the children agreed that now was the time to fortify relationships, to be with each other more, and to use their friendships to better themselves. They figured they didn't have much time together left.
Man, a thirty-six year old Kenneth McCormick mused as he stood in Kyle Marsh's backyard, Stan Marsh arguing with Eric Cartman over how to grill steak as Wendy Testaburger-Cartman and the rest of their graduating class watched (or egged them) on, were we ever wrong.
Okay! There you have it! The first chapter of "Birds". I apologize that this took so long, but I received some pretty harsh criticism on chapter 16 of Bromance; don't get me wrong, I totally agree with what the reviewer said, but it made me want to try something outside of my comfort zone while also not making the same mistakes I made with Bromance. The characters are still very much themselves and this is still very much going to be a humor story, so don't worry about that.
If anybody's still reading, thanks again! I'll do my best to make the wait worthwhile!