A/N: Big 'ole one to kick this whole thing off! This fic isn't actually a fic but a collection of one-shots. From the Mess to the Masses is part of what I'm calling the Lisztomania-verse, which includes For Gentlemen Only. For Gentlemen Only is the main fic and is a bit necessary to read in order to understand what is going on in these one-shots. You don't have to read the one-shots. I wrote them because some of the chapters were feeling bogged down with scenes that were great for showing character interaction but I thought detracted from the overall plot. They're just really fun scenes and alternative view points that I wanted to write.

Each will be titled by a song because I'm a music nerd. I hope you guys enjoy them!

From the Mess to the Masses

01: Countdown

Clyde, the best friend to the disinterested with his best interest at heart or the biggest cock block ever?

He had only been at his locker for five minutes before he felt the tap on his shoulder. Inside he groaned; outside he adopted a cheery grin before turning around.

Interesting, he thought as he studied the blonde haired girl in front of him. She was a head shorter than he was with brown eyes and loose ponytail. She wasn't too bad looking, maybe could have used some braces, and needed to quit hugging her binder and English textbook like they were a fucking life preserver. He vaguely registered that she was a sophomore and probably from Middle Park judging by the convenience store receipt she was using as a book mark. Middle Park was the only town in Park County with that particular chain in it.

Not too bad, Craig, he grinned at her. "What's up…" He left his question open ended signaling that he didn't know her name.

"Kelly," she shyly smiled back and tucked some hair behind her ear.

"Kelly, right," he nodded and stuck his thumbs through the straps on his back pack. "How can I help you?"

She giggled nervously and produced a letter from her binder. "Um, I know this is awkward but could you maybe give this letter to your friend, Craig Tucker, for me?"

He peered at it without taking it wearing an expression of curiosity on his face. Sometimes he wondered if he should actually give Craig one of these letters. Just to see what he'd do. Would he be nice enough to turn her down in person or through a letter of his own? Did he even know this girl?

For that matter did he even like girls? Clyde genuinely didn't know. He did know that Craig had frenched a girl in, like, seventh grade or something but it's been pretty much radio silence since then. He didn't even seem to register the conversation when they were sitting around Token's or Tweek's house watching DVDs and comparing actresses. What type of person did Craig like?

Wait. Person?

Was Clyde really about to sit here and debate his best friend's sexuality?

It was a good question, though. If Craig did bat for the other team what kind of guy did he go for? Ugh, what if he was one of those suffer in silence over their crushes types? That'd mean he could be a likely candidate for a crush. Clyde had to work very hard to repress the shudder that thought induced.

The girl blinked and shifted nervously in front of him. He widened his smile and titled his head to the side.

"I'm sorry, but trust me," he tried to look genuinely sympathetic, "I don't think he'll look at it."

She leaned back hesitantly with shock on her face. "Well, why not?"

Clyde glanced at the letter again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just trust me. It's better to just forget it. Okay?"

She looked down at her feet and licked her lips before glancing at him again. "Am I not his type?"

Clyde took in a sharp breath and pondered the answer to that question. He looked at her from the top of her blonde head down to the pointy Mary Janes on her feet. Not likely.

"I'm really sorry."

She slowly withdrew the letter and tucked it back into her binder before nodding her head. He watched as she walked away. Whether Craig liked boys or girls was none of his concern. What he was concerned about was the fact Craig showed no interest in the usual things other guys his age were interested in. He suddenly wanted to see Craig walking through the halls of the school with his arm around someone else's shoulder. He wanted to see Craig flustered at Homecoming over looking good for his date. He wanted to invite Craig over to do things or try to make plans only to have him say "Sorry, I promised So-'N-So we'd go out." He wanted to see him fighting with a chick in the middle of the cafeteria. He wanted to make fun of him catching him literally in a closet with his lips glued to some guy's face. He wanted to see him get so worked up over somebody no one in their group of friends would know what to do about it.

He grinned at the thought. It'd never happen.