Hey, guys. How are you doing? I'm finally ready with this, and finally uploading something again. Considering the facts that this is a multi-chaptered fic and also that I hate to write those, this upload is odd by me. But there I go ;)

In any case: I try to update every three days. At the moment I have finished chapter four, which will be up in 9 days then... I may take a break from those 3 days and extend it to four or five, but I try to go the 3-day-pace till the bitter end.

South Park doesn't belong to me , as you might have guessed. Some other "warnings" of those story:

1) Kyle's POV, the ICness is controversial, but Kyle is about 16 in here, so that should give me room to change him a bit.
2) This revolves Kyle and therefore other pairings with him can also appear. The Kyman-part will have to wait, but it will most certainly come. ;)
2) Character death. I'm not gonna say more.
3) I don't really like it... but I'm satisfied with it, as I rarely like my work.
4) Please read and enjoy. :)

Chapter One: Eleventh Grade

After I shut the classroom door behind me, I saw the joyous sight of pre-class chaos taking place in front of me. The first day of eleventh grade didn't keep his promise, and I was not surprised: The same procedure as every year.

I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly at the immaturity of some of my classmates. Especially Craig caught my eye, though. He was neither throwing chalk through the classroom, nor scrawling doodles on the blackboard like he usually did. He sat quietly in his seat and cuddled with his new found love (sounds so faggy). Tweek and Craig were the first ones to admit their homosexuality in our grade and I vaguely wondered if there'll be a number three. Well, probably-

"Ow, fuck you, Token," I had to yell as I was pulled out of my thoughts by a piece of chalk hitting my head. I received a really not caring "Sorry" and just brushed it off quickly. This wasn't a day to get into fights with people, it was stressful enough as it was. I let my eyes wander around the room again and was soon confronted with Stan's beaming face. He stood by Wendy's desk with Kenny and looked at me.

"Hey dude," he greeted as usual.

I smiled and walked up to them, "Hey." I basically knew how his holidays were so that question wasn't necessary, "What's up?"

"Nothing really... school started again, it's a pain in the ass," he said in his usual Stan-manner.

"Yep," Kenny agreed shortly.

Wendy just rolled her eyes at their comments and remained silent. Personally, I didn't particularly like school either, but it wasn't too bad actually. I had a good life.

Looking around the classroom once again, I was trying to spot a potential new face. There was one... no, two, I saw. Two guys, didn't really look that nice, so I decided to search for more... abnormalities. And, indeed, I caught the glimpse of an abnormally unpleasant face. It was the one I had had a sparkle of hope to not see that day, but our lovely Abraham decided to get me again, not giving me the satisfaction.

Eric Cartman, the fatass. I sighed, what else could one do at the sight of him? Nobody really cared about him anymore, and well, nobody really cared that nobody cared about him. He seemed rather abandoned, a person, who seemed impossible to change, thus unsustainable. Like I said, I didn't care.

Being around him had just become too annoying, because he seemed to learn new insults every day and waisted his time expressing them... mostly to me, so I, Stan and Kenny had decided to give up on him for good, like anybody else. I think Kenny and Stan were still meeting him occasionally, though, out of habit – their problem.

Butters stood right next to his desk and chatted with him – not too surprising, actually. In fact, the interesting discovery lay in the fatass's hands: a camera. Not his beloved Wellington Bear one, no, the contrary, it looked quite expensive. What was he doing with it? He had liked to take pictures for his amusement when we were eight, I could recall, but he had stopped doing it after the penis-sucking-incident, whose name pretty much explains itself.

"Hey, Stan?" I said, regaining Stan's attention, "Do you know what Cartman is doing with that camera?"

"Uhm, yeah, actually," Stan answered. "He's gotten into photographing now," he explained with a slightly mocking undertone.

"Oh? Is he taking pictures of Butters at sleep again," I chuckled.

"No, he's photographing seriously. You remember in forth grade when he..." Stan paused and chuckled slightly, "...when he showed the class his photo collection with this one pic where he was sucking Butters's dick?"

I frowned, "Yeah, unfortunately I do." Disgusting, yet funny.

"Well he's taking real pictures now, like those boring ones before the last," Stan continued his explanation.

"Are you serious?" Wendy threw in, trying to sound confused, if not shocked.

"Yeah, why? What's wrong?" Stan looked at her.

"Nothing, just that photographing is art and Cartman likes it. Seems pretty strange to me," Wendy said. She had a point, Cartman was an intolerant dick and clearly had no hobbies that do not harm anybody... hadn't he?

Our conversation was disrupted by Mr. Churchill, our old history teacher from England, entering the classroom. I know, he had the perfect name for a history teacher and literally deified his historic namesake.

He'd taken a liking to Pip, 'the gentleman British person' in our class. It was rather annoying when they talked with those awkwardly posh accents.

"Good morning, class. I certainly hope, you all enjoyed you're summer and are eager to learn again, next test is in one week." – Oh, how everyone loved him.

And when it came to the Jews in World War II, he always wanted to know my opinion first. As if I was THE Jew. He pissed me off.

In the end, however, there was nothing I could change. Only thing to do was taking my usual seat between Stan and Clyde and listening to Mr. Churchill introducing our new topic – the Korean War. Fun.

"Man, the first periods of the year and already so much fucking homework," Stan sighed sitting down at the lunch table with me, Wendy and Kenny.

"Well what do you expect?" I asked, biting in my sandwich. Ugh, it tasted quite disgusting.

Stan thought for a second, "You're right, I guess, but still we-"

Stan stopped abruptly after hearing a silent clicking noise from his left. Stan, Kenny and I turned our heads into the direction it came from and therefore all of us looked right into Cartman's annoying face.

"What the fuck, Cartman? Don't take fucking pictures of us," I said. There it was again, I could sense it. Soon my people were going to be belittled.

"Fuck off, Jew. I do what I want," Cartman retorted calmly.

"Why are you running around with that fucking camera here anyway?" I actually felt I was in a good mood, in a too good mood to speak, let alone argue with Cartman...

"It's none of you're business, Jew," Cartman said a little more aggressively.

"Yes, it is, when you take pictures of me, you stupid fatass," …but it was unstoppable then. I could stick my good mood up Cartman's fat ass.

"Whatever, whatever, I do what I want," Cartman finished, to my surprise avoiding the argument, and turned on his heel to march away.

"Come on, dude, just drop it, okay?" Stan asked cautiously after a few seconds. I guess, he thought I was seething over him again, but I wasn't. Being around him a lot makes you immune to those kinds of situations.

I just sighed, "What a retard."

"Yeah, so... what do you do next weekend, dude?" Stan asked, seemingly eager to change the topic.

"Dude, I don't know, it's Monday," I answered, a little to loud. It seemed this typical Stan-question pissed me off more than the conversation with Cartman.

Stan flinched slightly but went on, "I know, but... there's a girl that kind of likes you and wants a date with you, and well, considering you never had a girlfriend we-"

"Why doesn't she ask me then?" I interrupted. I knew where this was going. They were probably just trying to talk me into a date with a pretty but incredibly stupid girl, which happened before.

Stan looked at Wendy helplessly. She shrugged.

"She thinks your gay, dude," Kenny answered my question.

I coughed up the last bit of the sandwich I just gulped. "What?" I could only ask after my coughing fit was over.

"She was gonna ask you, but first she came to us and asked if you're gay," Kenny explained further.

This was fucked up.

"So, what did you tell her?" Was I really interested in a date? No.

"We told her, we don't know," Kenny said. I couldn't believe it.

"What? You- You think I'm gay?" More importantly was: did I really look or act gay? This thought had never crossed my mind before, I was pretty shocked.

"No, no, dude, but you didn't have a girlfriend yet and never really... liked to talk about girls, you know," Stan said, quieting down a bit after noticing, that some people from a nearby table stared at us curiously.

I just looked at him. Why did I never have a girlfriend? I've had this one girl in 3rd grade, what was her name again? Did she even count? I guessed not.

"Dude," is everything I could say in response.

The three of them just stared at me with curious expressions. "So are you?" Wendy asked this time.

"No!" I shouted. I was not gay!

"That's retarded!" I liked girls, I liked pussy. I had never liked a guy. Okay, I had never liked a girl either, but still. I looked down at my tray, I suddenly wasn't so hungry anymore. Why couldn't the bell ring and free me from their accusing stares? This was fucked up... seriously.

"Dude, you can tell us, it's not a big deal," Stan then began in a almost comforting tone. I frowned at him and he retreated quickly.

In conclusion, I stood up and went out of the cafeteria without saying a word. I could feel the stares of the people who eavesdropped on our conversation and I definitely heard Kenny whispering to Stan, "He's definitely gay, dude."

I was not!

There it was. Please express your opinion through a review or PM or whatever. I'd love you for anything. Thanks for reading, like I said I will try to get C2 up in 3 days. That's May 13th 2:22 am (Central European Summer Time).