AN: This is my first South Park fic so please be gentle~! I'm gonna be a non-conformist and base my first fic on a not so well-known pairing, Curly GothxRed Goth (EvanxDylan)!

Names: Red Goth – Dylan Curly Goth – Evan Vampir – Mike Makowski or Misery Kinder Goth - Georgie

Pairings: one-sided EvanxDylan, DylanxMisery, GeorgiexIke, eventual EvanxDylan

Summary: I don't miss him. He has his faggy little Emo boyfriend now, he doesn't even need me. So fuck all my conformist feeling, I'll ignore them.

I'll Still Love a Conformist You

Evan's (Curly Goth's) P.O.V.

I don't fucking miss him. Missing anything or anybody is for scumbag conformists.

I just don't get it. When did things start changing? Being Goth used to be his life. He lived, breathed, and worshiped our Goth ways, and was good enough that even I have to say he was great.

It fit him.

It fit all of us.

Then Mike Makowski returned, or should I say Vampir? No, no, I shouldn't say that. He goes by Misery Makowski nowadays.

You see, he's turned into one of those emo faggots who show their conformist suffering through the conformist form of cutting. Just what the fuck?

Cutting is just too obvious and for attention seekers. It's not nearly as subtle and brooding as smoking away your misery and hating the world.

Sure, Emos hate the world too, but in a gay way.

Fuck, I rhymed…

But I still believe that Emo is Goth's gay little cousin with an eyeliner fetish.

And I will always believe that.

…Even if Dylan's emo now…

Yup, he was the one I was talking about earlier. The one that I DON'T in any way miss.

When Mike, or 'Misery', came back in our sophomore year in South Park High, he was emo. Or, at least fit perfectly into the emo stereotype because he hasn't, as far as I know, admitted to cutting. But it's pretty obvious with all those bandages he always wears.

It's funny how we sent him to Scottsdale in all his wannabe 'Vampir' glory and he comes back all skinny jeans, tight tees, and eyeliner.

I blame him for Dylan leaving us. The Goths.

Because of him I started dissing on everything 'emo' and hating everything about it.

I just… I didn't know Dylan had a cutting problem. He never told me. I bet he told 'Misery' though…

Emos just get each other.

The same way I thought Goths would always get each other.

Dylan's (Red Goth's) P.O.V.

Evan just didn't get me. I guess it's not his fault he doesn't care about me, but he could've at least pretended.

He should've noticed how I've been wearing my long-sleeved shirts a lot lately, noticed the sad look in my eyes and how I distanced myself whenever he talking about my 'conformist' problem. It's not my fault, I just can't help it.

I actually feel alive when the razor pierces my sickly pale skin, tearing through my veins, forcing my monotone body to feel something.

Evan just didn't get it. He's too stuck in his self-centered world of 'non-conformist' things to be open to anything else.

Misery isn't though.

He gets me.

He gets the feeling of blood pouring through your lifeless self and how great it feels. The rush of adrenaline and the fast beating of your heart, not knowing if this is your last moment or if you'll be able to hold back until you black out from exhaustion.

But I'm not lying when I say that sometimes I wish I could hang out with Evan again. Sometimes I wish I could hang out with all of my Goth friends again, Evan, Georgie, and Henrietta.

But I know they wouldn't want to hang out with an emo faggot like me again anyways.

Yes, I admit it, I'm gay. I'm not even sure how I even knew I was gay because I've never really been attracted to another guy until now. But I've never been attracted to any girls either. So when Misery asked me if I was gay when I joined his group, I just said yes because I was confused about my sexual identity.

But Misery told me he was gay too, and I didn't want to take it back and hurt him, so I started dating him.

It's not like I actually expected him to ravage me the moment we started going out, but I wasn't expecting his innocent 'school-boy-in-love' act either.

It's hard to believe, but underneath all that pain and misery that is, well, Misery, there's still a little bit of that goody-two-shoes 5th grader that wouldn't touch a cigarette to save his life (But he loves those cancer sticks now), and all we've done thus far is hold hands in private and kiss a little bit in my room when my drunkard of a father is too smashed to give a fuck.

I'm going to hate myself for saying this later, but I think it's pretty fucking cute how Misery turns all red when I initiate physical contact. I can't even help liking that stupid nickname he has for me, Dyllie. As childish and fucked up as it is, I let him call me that in private because the way he blushed when he suggested it was absolutely adorable.

He's such a virgin and I can't help but enjoy it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a virgin too. Being Goth and hanging around the same group of three other people your whole life doesn't give you many chances to socialize and mess around.

Not like I would even want to mess around with those Justin – Britney wannabe conformists anyway.

Fuck.

Old habits die hard.

Misery's (Mike Makowski or Vampir's) P.O.V.

When I first came back to South Park after years of complete utter HELL in Scottsdale, I was completely ready to get my revenge on the Goths for sending mw there in the first place. I even had it all planned out kinda.

I had turned Emo during my suffering in Scottsdale because it made me happy. It was one of the only escapes I had from my misery, so I took it.

I loved the feeling of blade on skin, the cold, comforting feeling of blood flowing down your arm. It makes me forget how my parents hate that I'm gay, but put up with it and lie to their friends because they want to keep up their 'reputation'.

Honestly, I didn't quite plan on becoming Emo, per se, but I just did. Then, when I discovered there was a whole clique out there with people just like me, I joined it.

I actually didn't think I would enjoy it that much, but I love it. I can honestly be my true self and express the pain and anguish in my soul. My soul isn't necessarily dark and morbid like the Goths', but it's full of pain and turmoil.

I had planned to make my own clique in South Park High and make it bigger and better than the Goths. I had gotten two followers the first day and my plan was going great! Apparently I looked pretty "hot in a gay yet straight way" to the girls, and I didn't have the heart to tell them I really was gay.

I hadn't seen a sign of the Goths on my first day, when I remembered that they usually stayed at their hangout behind the school during lunchtime, so the next day I finished my work early and his behind the dumpster at the back of the school before the lunch bell rang.

I sometimes wish I hadn't done that and that I just forgot and forgave the Goths and just never saw them again, but at the same time I feel that was one of the greatest moments of my life.

Because the moment I spotted the Red Goth (who I didn't know the name of at the time), I was, as cliché as it sounds, in love.

He had been casually smoking a cigarette in such a heavenly way, flipping that fringe of hair he's had since elementary out of his dark, brooding eyes. He had been wearing the uniform Goth clothing of a plain black tee with some satanic design on it and baggy black jeans with some torn-up combat boots.

He was positively beautiful, per se.

Just looking at him made me forget all the grudges I held against him (not his friends, but still).

I had always been too soft.

I knew I had to approach him, but he was always with his Goth posse, so I had to wait for the perfect time. Finally, Dylan (I had learned his name by then) decided to go to the bathroom by himself without Evan or Georgie, so I followed him.

I waited until he was washing his hands to start initiation conversation.

I started with a, "So… Hi! It's me, Mike, remember? Um… ya… hehe…uh…"

It was extremely, unbearably awkward. I had wanted to kill myself at that moment, but I'm happy I didn't now.

Dylan had ignored me and was about to walk away when I grabbed his long sleeve to stop him when the thin, old fabric completely tore off his frail, thin arm.

His arm was covered in scars and cuts and scabs.

And none looked accidental.

I had apologized profusely the second I saw, and he did the most unpredictable thing.

He broke down and hugged me, sobbing the whole way.

After a while he let go and admitted to me he cut himself.

I don't know what came over me, but I stopped being my shy, idiotic self at that moment and took out my old composition notebook from my backpack and handed it to him.

It was full of my many poems on how cutting controlled my life, how it made me feel like I had meaning.

Dylan looked like he was about to cry again once he started reading, so I told him he could keep it and read it later.

The next day he came into the cafeteria for the first time in the whole school year and approached my table.

I was sitting with only 4 other people who were too engrossed in their own conversations and poetry writing to notice.

He sat down next to me and gave me my notebook back. I flipped through it and found that the last page had something there that hadn't been there before.

Torn flesh, bleeding veins

Ignoring remarks

Silent brooding

A beacon of darkness leading me

Hope is clearer than it's ever been

I hugged him.

I didn't care who was watching, I didn't care where the other Goths were and what they wouold do if they saw us, I just didn't care about anything else but us.

I had finally found someone who understood me, and I was happier than I've ever been in a long while.

I knew I would make him my boyfriends at that moment, and I was right.

I would make sure nothing would stand in our way, ever.

Evan's P.O.V.

I walk with Henrietta and Georgie to the back of the school. Ever since Dylan left we've stuck together like glue, secretly afraid someone else might soon follow.

When we finally make it to our hangout, I smoke a few cigs until my headache from Geometry goes away.

"Fuck… bathroom." I stated as I walked off into the school

I'd never admit it to them, but I love how I can be myself around my friends. I don't need to be the least bit polite or pleasant in any way. It's a great break from my over bearing parents who've always wanted some perfect conformist son.

Fuck them and their shitty conformist ways.

I continue walking to the bathroom at the very back of the school. Sure, it's further than the other bathroom, but less conformists use it and I'll be damned if I run into any of them.

Then, curse my luck, the moment I open the bathroom door I spot the one person who's been plaguing my mind since the day he left.

Dylan.

"Uh… Hi Evan. How's it going?" Dylan said awkwardly with shifty eyes.

I just stare at him. I don't know what I was expecting. For him to break down and hug me? Telling me that he missed me and has been thinking of me as much as I think of him?

No… I never expected something as farfetched as that. But, I did expect something a little more than a "How's it going". You'd think that after being with someone pretty much your whole life and then suddenly leaving them for an emo ex-'vampire' would leave you with a little more to say.

"Hey Dyllie! Are you done in there ye-" someone started as they slowly opened the bathroom door.

Fuck my life.

So yeah, this is what I do in my freetime. Yup… This love triangle needs more love! DX

I don't know if I'll continue this. I was originally planning to just make this a one-shot, but I got carried away and made it too long. I don't even think it's that good. But yeah...

Please review~ Criticism appreciated~!