A/N: I'M SO EXCITED TO BE POSTING THIS! THIS IS MY FIRST STYLE FIC AND IT IS SO EXCITING; I REALLY HOPE YOU FIND IT TO BE ENJOYABLE. I LEARNED MY ENGLISH FROM READING GREAT AUTHORS AND I HOPE YOU CAN SEE THAT WHEN YOU READ! I WORKED VERY HARD ON THIS AND I WANT HARD CRITIQUE, SO LAY IT ON ME. PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO IMPROVE WHAT I SAY!!!!! :DDDDDD I LOVE YOU ALLL!
Chapter One: Bad Romance
Kyle flickered his beautiful emerald eyes open, long lashes ghosting against his porcelain skin as the redheaded teenager pushed himself up in his bed, scratching his arm slightly and looking at the full-length mirror that he had made sure to put in his room after his brother started hogging the bathroom more. The seventeen year old was truly gorgeous; his well-tamed, luxurious, silky red hair clung to his face, every curl a model of perfection and although he had just woken up, still a manageable, lush style that came to him effortlessly.
He slid off the edge of the bed, porcelain skin glowing in the sun leaking through the curtains, the natural light only increasing his pristine elegance as he crossed the room, pulling open his dresser drawers and removing a pair of boxers before sliding them on, running a hand over his creamy white thigh and making sure to look at himself in the mirror before dressing slowly, the denim of his skinny jeans caressing his flesh like a lover caressed their partner, his cotton t-shirt dancing over his oh-so-white dermis and perhaps only increasing the overall gorgeousness of his already delectable being.
Kyle moved across the room, his motions sylph-like and fluid, like water pouring over a waterfall at high noon. He stooped, making sure his papers were safely inside his magenta and brimstone coloured backpack; after all, the perfect high school valedictorian needed to make sure that he had everything together. He was the epitome of all that was right in the world and he knew it; after all, he was swim team captain, top of his class, and perhaps the most beautiful, Delphic, legitimately amazing person to grace the world.
He wafted downstairs as though in a trance, thoughts on the one thing in life that made him happier than anything: Stan Marsh. Stan Marsh was amazing. He was beyond amazing. The raven was a star quarterback, handsome, nice, and caring, and as much as Kyle loved his best friend, he knew they would never be more than that. After all, Stan was as straight as an arrow, with a perfect girlfriend and a perfect life. He could never love someone like Kyle Abraham Broflovski, despite how close they were and despite all the emotions Kyle had built up for his best friend.
A single tear coursed its way down Kyle's ivory skin as he left the house, shrugging on the jacket he had grabbed from the coat closet on the way out. He wiped it away hastily, trying to reinforce the dam that he strove so hard to keep up; alas, it was of no use and as the Jewish teen cut a hasty swathe in the direction of the high school, his tears only intensified, dripping down his cheeks like the very falls of Niagara themselves.
He crossed the train tracks, their steel reinforcements cutting into Mother Earth like razorblades cutting into the tender, coursing veins of a suicide victim before their last breath. Such rape of Gaia herself only caused Kyle to weep more, his tears coming fast and seemingly unstoppable as he passed the McCormick's shack, the house itself looking slumped, as though it could hear the Earth's discourse at mankind's utter disparage of the land.
He was stirred from his reverie by the drawling, recognizable voice of Kenneth McCormick. On a good day, Kenny's voice was just like a warm breeze on a spring day; it touched the senses and left a person feeling warm and soft on the inside, the kind of feeling left in the heart by a close embrace. Today, though, it was like heaven on earth, a reprieve from the tears streaming down the fiery auburn-haired teen's face. "Kyle, you okay?"
Kyle rubbed a hand over his face, breath hitching in his throat. He felt as though he were suffocating, all the love he had for his best friend choking him and drowning him in fifty different emotions at the same time. He felt hopeless and Kenny was the only cure at the moment. The slim redhead looked at his Greek god of a friend; Kenny was a shining Adonis compared to most of the people in town, and ever since he had stopped wearing his hood, people had taken notice of him. A lot of notice.
Kenny was the town harlot, a man who got whoever he wanted, like a predator taking its prey and engaging it in a sensual, beautiful dance that combined soul and body, only to leave the blonde feeling emptier in the end than he ever did before he set his fatal trap. But, despite his flawed and rugged appearance, in his heart of all hearts, Kenny McCormick was more than a cheap whore. He was a beautiful, intellectual, whole-heartedly simplistic man, and that was perhaps what had kept Kyle and he so close over all the years. Their shared sense of self brought them together and kept them bound, like peas in a pod of friendship.
Kyle managed to speak, his voice throaty and yet so calm, so serene that anyone with a pair of ears could easily lose themselves in those dulcet, heavenly tones. Never before had a voice of this Earth been so close to a voice of a god. "I… I'll be fine, Kenny. I'm just…"
"Thinking about him again, aren't you? Kyle, I'm sure that if you just wait, he'll come around. You guys are super best friends! He has to come around." Kenny offered up one of his trademark smiles, a breathtaking display of the whitest teeth that Kyle had ever seen. It was mesmerizing, but the emerald-eyed boy tore his gaze from the brilliancy of that expression; his thoughts were, and would always be, reserved for the raven that haunted his every waking moment. Kyle's mind was entirely pure of any type of love except for that of one Stan Marsh.
A blush crossed Kyle's cheeks, the heat spreading from his cheeks to the rest of his body, his neck, his shoulders, his very fingertips turning red with the accursed emotion, embarrassment flooding his veins despite the heartfelt sessions spent with Kenny over a gallon of ice cream with Oprah playing in the background. "Of course I'm thinking about him. How can I not? God, Kenny, he's so perfect. If only he were with me and not Wendy. I'd be so happy, you know?"
"I know." Kenny sighed slightly, a smile crossing his face. He was so happy with Cartman; it was almost as though he had achieved a simple, lackadaisical perfection in his life. Yes, he was still promiscuous but there was something so… tangible about a real relationship, something that ebbed and flowed and just cascaded down on Kenny like a shower of happiness. He knew he couldn't deserve such poignant and deep emotion; after all, he was damaged goods.
The two boys reached South Park High; the building was like a prison dressed up in red bricks; every step the two best friends took was almost like a death sentence as the austere and solemn building rose above them. Kyle felt a singular dread rise in the very pit of his perfect abdomen; something told him that he didn't want to be here today, not with his gleaming emerald eyes puffy as they were after shedding so much of his lifewater. The young Jew drew back, his hesitance gripping at his heart as though it had fallen into the very hands of the devil himself and he was squeezing, squeezing so tightly that it felt as though he couldn't breathe. "Kenny… I don't want to go to school today. Something's wrong."
Kenny opened his mouth to speak but his eyes were instead drawn to someone behind Kyle, prompting the carmine-haired teen to whip around. His entire world slowed down as he caught sight of the bronzed Adonis making his way towards the school, dressed in his regular jeans and a polo but looking so entirely, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that Kyle could only stare, mouth open in a slight 'o' of surprise.
It was like a movie; Kyle envisioned himself on Stan's arm, holding onto him like that instead of Wendy. He wanted to be happy with his best friend. The cerise-headed boy felt his walls breaking down again and turned away, looking up at Kenny and then shaking his head. "Can't we just go?"
Kenny felt for his friend; despite his misleading actions, he was a person who, no matter what, really felt for his companions. Kenny was a person of infinite soul and when he put his heart into someone, he was loyal to the very end despite his gregarious and flippant nature. He hooked his arm through Kyle's, pulling the other man after him into the school.
Kyle was drowning.
He was falling to pieces, every single bit of his body and soul and mind crumbling even as they set foot in the hollow, depressing reformatory that characterized their everyday lives. The vice on his heart tightened and Kyle knew that Stan and he would ever be star-crossed… A tear fell from his eye onto the tile floor and he sighed, hoping that someday, somehow… everything would turn to his favour.