Do you ever open your eyes in the morning, the burn of sleep still clinging dearly, just to look around your room and wonder...why? Why are you still in the same position as yesterday? Why does it feel like you're not getting anywhere? His alarm was only a distant scream to him as he slapped a hand down on it, the silence in the room slowly creeping into his mind. He sat up, stretching until he heard a satisfying pop and felt the relief ripple down his spine. "Nice." He huffed, swinging his legs over the side of his bed only to retract with a grunt as his toes scraped the chilled floor. Eventually gaining the courage to brave the cold, he slipped out from under the warm protective shield that was his blanket and briskly made his way to the bathroom.
It was always a weird feeling to him, to look at his own reflection and see a young man with mussed up raven hair and daring yet brooding blue eyes staring back at him. It made him remember he was alive. A person- sometimes that was hard to recall. Sometimes he just felt like a lifeless husk moving along in the world merely by instinct. Brainless and numb. Mirrors were like an anchor, so to speak. It was one of the few things that reminded him who Stan Marsh actually was. He furrowed his brow, concentrating on the sound of the bistles of his tooth brush scraping his teeth. Spitting into the sink, he rinsed out his toothbrush and put it away while combing through his wild bed head with his fingers. "Good enough." He muttered, leaving the bathroom and returning to his own room to get dressed for the day.
It was the last day of his senior year, which meant nothing but bullshitting around the entire day. Honestly, it didn't even make sense to go, but what the hell? Kyle was going to be there, and that was reason enough. The short tempered Jewish boy would make the day go by faster anyway. Not to mention, the boys wanted to go somewhere afterwards, which means something different to get himself out of this dull routine of what felt like seemingly nothing lately. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe he was just missing excitement in his life. Things used to be so much more fun when they were younger, whether it would be superheroes, or elves. It was always something.
He hummed in thought, thumbing through his clothes until he settled on a white T-shirt and some loose fitting jeans. Shouldering his brown leather jacket on and zipping it up halfway, his eyes drifted to his old worn out yet lovingly handled blue and red beanie with the little red puff. Tentatively, he reached a hand out to it and snugged it over his shaggy black hair, the memories giving him a sense of warmth more so than the fabric itself. Lacing his shoes, he perked at a sudden loud tap against his window, shortly followed by another, until it turned into a loud Thunk! Tilting his head at the noise, the boy slowly rose from his bed and walked over to it, sliding it open with ease only to be met with another rock flying at his face.
"Ow, dude!" He rubbed his jaw, his eyes darting down to the red head below him, the other already armed with another rock larger than before.
Kyle Broflovski stood out in the slowly melting snow, a dull forest green zip up clinging loosely to his thin frame along with faded jeans. His emerald eyes widened as the boy quickly dropped it behind him, a cheeky grin following. "Sorry dude!" He kicked it further away. "What's taking you so long?" the shorter of the two boys threw his arms up in mock frustration. "The guys are waiting at the bus stop!"
Stan rolled his eyes, ignoring the trickle of warmth that sparked in his stomach at seeing the boy. "I'm coming, keep your damn hat on. You could've just went ahead of me, you know." He grumbled, shutting the window before the freckled boy outside could retort.
Making his way downstairs, he plucked his bag from the back of the chair it was previously hung on and stepped past his dad without so much as a glance. The man was sprawled out on the tile in his underwear, the smell of vomit and piss striking the boy's senses as he rushed out of the house before he could stir. He couldn't help but bite back a string of curses at just seeing the man. The one person you should be able to trust was the one person in the world that he knew he never could. Not with the constant drinking, idiotic remarks, actions and the way he spoke of his mother when he drank a little too much. Which was more often than not.
The boiling anger dissipated as soon as his friend clamped a hand on his shoulder, the smaller boy giving him a warm smile in greeting. "You excited? This is it, man! We're finally out of there." He looked up at the sky, his green hues sparkling in what little sunlight perforated the early morning clouds. "You're still up for this evening, right?" His head swiveled back to the taller boy as he swallowed thickly.
"Yeah yeah," He nodded his head, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, ignoring the dull pang of hunger in his stomach. "Nnn, but where are we going exactly?" He queried. "You guys haven't told me jack shit."
Kyle's smile faltered, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. "I don't really know either. It was Kenny's idea, whatever it is."
"He probably thinks you won't come if he tells you." The taller raised an eyebrow. "You think we'll end up getting into trouble again?"
"You mean like always? Knowing Fatass and Kenny, probably." The red head crinkled his nose, his curly fro poking out from that same green hat he's worn for years. "But I told my mom I would be at your house. I'll be safe as long as she doesn't go poking around." The boy shivered, just the mere thought of his mother's shrill voice chastising him for lying to her scared him half to death. And he was eighteen.
"You'd think she wouldn't be so protective of you now that you're older." Stan chuckled, sliding his free hand into his pocket as they neared ever close to the bus stop, the other two boys waiting patiently.
Noticing the sound of crunching snow, the blonde's head perked up as he gave the duo a wave. "Hey guys!" He stumbled over to them. His sky blue eyes looked even brighter against the orange and black letterman jacket he sported as he grinned from ear to ear. "You aren't going to pussy out on me tonight, are ya?" He smirked, sliding between the two and throwing his arms over their shoulders. "It wouldn't be the same without you~" He cooed, bringing the two boys closer to him.
"Depends. Are you going to continue to leave us in the dark about it? What do you have planned?" Stan narrowed his eyes, knowing all too well how much the lanky blonde liked to party. He was reckless when it came to himself, but on the other hand he DID get a job as soon as he turned sixteen just to support his younger sister. He wasn't bad, just...reckless. A real party animal.
"Remind me again why you had to invite the dirty Jew rat?" Cartman sneered, his beady little eyes landing on the boy.
"Shut the hell up, Cartman!" The boy in question snapped, his finger jabbing into the larger boy's gut. "He probably knows I would be better company than you, you fat fuck!"
"AYE." The brunette squawked in defense, his gloved hand slapping the other boy's away. "Fuck YOU, you greedy little Jew! Kenny doesn't know what he's getting into. Poor people aren't very smart." The boy chortled, his obnoxious laughter only making Kyle's face heat up more.
"Knock it off you guys," Stan sighed, instinctively grabbing Kyle's arm to jerk him away from Eric. "It's too early for you guys to be at each other's throats, no matter how much I want to see Kyle kick your fatass." The boy smirked, the comment eliciting another wave of backlash from Cartman, which he firmly ignored until the boy finally gave up.
Hearing the roar of the bus as it sped in their direction, the boys stood and waited until it pulled up beside them, the doors opening with a soft hsssh. Saying their good mornings to the bus driver, they were quick to find their seats in the very back of the nearly empty bus as it slowly rocked back onto it's route to the school.
Stan heaved out a heavy sigh, the tip of his pencil tapping against blank notebook paper several times, the graphite splitting with every tap. He just couldn't think of anything to write, nor did he really care about such a stupid assignment. It was barely third period, the time ticking slowly, and their lovely teacher decided it would be a good idea to write letters to the newer students that would be coming in the fall. Letters about favorite class activities, jokes, or even tips on surviving the hell that is high school. How am I even supposed to start this? He swallowed dryly, scratching at his temple. He merely scribbled whatever lame ass inspirational quote jumped to his mind and left it at that, sealing the envelope with the letter inside before tossing it carelessly to the edge of his desk. His eyes shifted to the boy to his left, the fiery red head scribbling away, his letter nearly a full page. Bright emerald eyes focused, thin lips in a tight concentrated line, brow furrowed as his pencil burned away at the paper. Stan could only imagine what he was writing, no doubt something filled with intensity and emotion that came straight from the heart. Kyle was just like that- too compassionate for his own good sometimes. He was too, but Kyle's heart left him in more than enough trouble, especially whenever the fat boy has them convinced he's changed for the better. It was almost like he was gullible, but at the same time he knew the boy just always tried to see the good in everyone. He chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes hovering over his friend absentmindedly who in turn looked up to meet his stare.
"Are you done already?" His voice melted in with the rest of the droning students around them, the class talking amongst themselves in a quiet rumble.
Stan glanced between his friend, and the teacher who sat at the front of the classroom, his eyes on his phone. All too busy to notice the boy pick up his chair and scoot it over to Kyle's desk. "It's as done as it's going to get." He kept his voice low, his eyes skimming over what Kyle was writing, only to be blocked by the pale ginger's hands.
"Dude, don't read it!" He hissed, a soft pink dusting his features. "And what's that supposed to mean? Is it really so hard to be as genuine to people as you are with animals?"
Stan paused, nibbling his lower lip, holding eye contact with the young Jewish boy. "Uh...no? I could totally do that."
Kyle eyed the boy, slapping his hand away when he tried to pry his away from the paper. "You're full of it."
The raven haired boy sucked in his cheek, his eyes rolling at the red head. "It's not that big of a deal, but whatever." He grumbled, resting his head against his arm, his eyes on his friend. Thankfully, the room wasn't so quiet, or else you could hear his stomach growling periodically. Though, he couldn't help but notice his friend give him a knowing look.
"You're like, really sluggish today. Did you skip breakfast again?" The boy prodded, his pencil jabbing sharply against Stan's forehead.
"I didn't want to get held up by another drunk speech from my dad." He deadpanned, his eyes flitting up to Kyle's. "I'll eat at lunch. I'm not going to die from skipping one meal." He huffed, drawing circles into the desk with his finger.
"My mom packed me some gefilte fish leftovers from last night if you want any."
Stan's stomach churned, "Uh, I'm good. I'll just grab some of whatever Chef's serving, thanks."
He only shrugged in response. "Suit yourself, buddy."
It didn't take long for the time to tick by, the boys sitting in comfortable silence. Stan with his head still resting on Kyle's desk, and Kyle now on his phone having already finished his letter. The bell rung, signaling the end of class and the beginning of lunch, students eagerly pouring out from the door. The two of them walked in unison, their steps timed perfectly with one another without them even realizing it.
"Well hello, you gay homosexuals." Came the irritable voice of Eric Cartman from behind, the chunky brunette pushing his way between the boys. "What did you little fag boys write about?"
"None of your business you fat asshole." Kyle shot the snarky reply, crossing his arms and inching as far away from him as possible. "Where's Kenny?"
"Right here~" The dirty blond purred, his arm snaking around Kyle easily. "So, you guys wanna hear what I have planned?" He cheesed, his eyes bouncing between the group. In a hushed gesture, he waved the group to huddle in, his voice but a whisper against the sound of rushed steps and chattering around them.
"Wait, WHAT?" Kyle's shrill voice broke, his eyes widening. "I can't go to something like that!" He gripped the sides of his ushanka in panic. "My mom would kill me if she found out!"
"Who says she has to know?" Kenny snorted, his hand placed on his hip. "We're not getting any younger, Kyle. Come on, have a little fun." He playfully pushed against the boy's shoulder, only getting a grunt in response. "It's not like she can do anything more than ground you anyway...which would be pretty embarrassing in your case." He snickered, patting Kyle's shoulder before giving it a squeeze. "Plus, Stan's going. Right?" He turned to the boy with a smirk. "And if Stan goes, you know you're going to end up going too, so why fight it?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
Stan only shrugged in response, his eyes flicking over to meet green ones. "Don't worry," he smiled. "If you don't want to go, I'll keep you company either way. That's what SBF's do, right?" He chuckled, holding his fist out to the Jew who happily returned the fist bump.
"I hate you guys," Cartman grumbled, his chubby face darkening to a scowl. "It's fucking nasty you guys."
Stan merely shook his head, retaking his position to the right of the red head this time, his shoulder grazing against the other boy's as they walked, Kenny's arm still resting stubbornly around the shorter boy's neck.
"W-well," Kyle sighed through his nose, pushing Kenny's arm away with a frown. "I guess I can go... b-but I'm not drinking a damn thing. If you guys want to make a fool of yourselves, be my guest." He snipped, wiping at his nose.
"Oh stop overreacting." the dirty blond groused. "Trust me, you need this experience." He gave him a toothy grin. "Maybe you'll even get lucky and-"
Kyle silenced him with a hard punch to the arm and a stare that meant he would have hell to pay if he continued. "Kenny! I don't even want to think about that!" He gnawed the edge of his lip, his face contorted in frustration.
The rest of the day carried on normally, the boys ripping on each other for the same old things between discussions of video games, girls, yearbook signing, and the oncoming grad party at Token's. The party that, in all reality, Stan wasn't looking forward to. Well, it was more the fact that he had a feeling deep in the back of his mind, that the night was going to go to shit. Shitty music, shitty people, and shitty attempts to keep face. Not that his friend circle was all that terrible, but the mere fact that there would be plenty of people he didn't even know stoned and shit faced all around him... didn't seem the most appealing. It just seemed like a stupid scene he didn't want to be caught at. He couldn't help but wish that he and Kyle could just do their own thing, see a movie, even just sit in his bedroom and talk until the sun came up. Yeah, that sounded a lot more appealing than getting blitzed at a party, but who knows? Maybe it won't be so bad. It's not like he's never been to something like that before- it just wasn't quite as huge of a get together.
"Stan?" a familiar voice rang in his ears, a light hand falling on his shoulder. "Hell-o? Stan?" The voice called again, causing the taller raven haired boy to blink away his thoughts, his eyes shifting down to his friend.
"S-sorry, were you saying something?" He cleared his throat, fumbling over his words.
"I said, do you want to wait at my house or yours? The party doesn't start until six." Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay? Lately you seem so...out of it." The end of his sentence was barely audible, a look of concern flashing over his features.
"I'm fine!" Stan abruptly barked, the volume of his voice making the other boy stagger back in surprise.
"Jeez, dude." He winced, rubbing his arm timidly. "Sorry for asking." his voice was a murmur as his eyes shot between Stan and the concrete, the boy's having decided to walk home instead of take the bus. "Well? Which is it then?" He perked up, recovering almost immediately. "My house or yours? Cartman said he would stop to pick us up when it was time to head out."
"Cartman said that?"
"Well, no, Kenny said he would do it or get his ass kicked. Then he called him a blood belching vagina."
"What the fuck, dude?" Stan furrowed his brows before shrugging. "Want to go to my place then?"
Kicking off his shoes at his door, Stan was happy to fall face first into his bed, his tired eyes shooting open when he felt the bed sink in next to him. He rested his cheek against his arms, breathing out a sigh of content. "Are you sure you want to go to this thing?" He inquired, resting his eyes.
He could feel the boy next to him shift before he spoke, sounding unsure. "Yes?" He started. Silence. "Maybe?" He huffed. "I'm nervous, okay?"
"Nervous?"
"What if my mom finds out? What if something crazy happens?"
"Live a little." Came Stan's tired response. "Whatever happens won't affect you forever." He rolled onto his back, moving his arms behind his head. His chest rose and fell with each slow breath he took, his voice a throaty grumble. "If you never learn how to roll with things, you're going to end up like Tweek." He cracked open an eye at the freckled boy beside him, his lips turning up in a lazy smile. "Don't worry so much. I'm going to be there."
Kyle rolled his eyes, shifting onto his side, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. The sleeve of the oversized jacket he wore slipped down the length of his arm, revealing a thin black beaded bracelet. "You're probably going to be the one person I have to keep my eye on the most. You're no stranger to alcohol."
"I'm no stranger to a lot of things."
"You say that like it's a good thing."
The dark haired teen moved onto his side, his bangs falling over his eyes. His eyes felt heavy with sleep, his senses intoxicated by comfort, his body relaxed. He struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision of the red head blurring in and out of focus. "What's so bad about having a little fun every now and then?" He cheesed, reaching his hand out to gently thump him in the head. "You'll loosen up."
To his surprise, his friend caught his hand before he could pull it back. His blue eyes widened, his breath hitched in his throat. He couldn't understand where that sudden anxious feeling bubbled up, but he could already feel bile pushing up from his gut. He clamped his mouth shut, swallowing thickly, his brows knitted at Kyle. Relax, he told himself, blinking away his nausea.
Lucky enough for him, Kyle was too busy brooding to pay much mind to his reaction. "Dude, I'm serious." His tone was harsh, but level as he shoved away Stan's hand. "Can you maybe not do anything stupid? Last time you showed up at my door with vomit down the front of your shirt slurring nonsense I couldn't even understand. You're lucky Barbrady didn't notice you stumbling down the got damn street!"
"If you would let loose just once, you would like it." He argued, coddling his hand as if he'd been wounded. "You're not going to die, get caught, or worse. It'll be fun." He sat up, resting his back against the headboard of his bed.
"You don't know that, Stan." His freckled counterpart pushed himself up as well, crossing his legs as he sat to face his friend.
"Kyle, dude-" He huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "How can you say that when you don't know either, huh?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for his friend to answer.
The ginger paused, his mouth opening with only a stifled grunt before he brought his hand to his chin in thought. "I..." He started, his eyes focused in his lap. As soon as he looked up to meet Stan with a glare, he already knew he won this argument.
"Exactly. Since when are you so tense anyway?" He scooted closer, his blue eyes boring into Kyle from under his oil black bangs. "Are you sure something isn't bothering you?" He asked, his voice hushed.
Emerald hues darted between Stan and his sheets, the boy having a hard time looking him in the eye. He leaned away slightly, his voice caught in his throat. "Uhm, positive." He squeaked out, feeling his palms start to sweat. What was with that? Was he actually intimidated or...? He shook his head rapidly, hunching forward. "Whatever, man." He snipped, scowling deeply. "We'll see what happens."