Best Friends Forever
Chapter Two: What's Wrong with South Park?
Authors Note: Oh gosh! I didn't expect such feedback. I really appreciate it though. Thank you all who have reviewed/and or took interest in my story! You guys really make me happy
About the age thing: Well, I've done a lot of thinking, and I decided that their age was appropriate for this story. This story is really about innocence that only exists before you reach a certain age. Around ten-eleven, for many kids like what happened to me, you start to get a new outlook on life. Also, I'm sure that at least a few of us have had some sort of sexual fantasies (you will see this in the chapter) at that age as well. I know I did, but they weren't really in the way that many of us see it now...
Anyway, this chapter is almost twice as long as the previous one and is basically all about Kenny. It is also darker as well, as suggested by "too lazy to log in" ). But drama won't really be this fic too much until about chapter four. But, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Also, if you have any questions about what's going on, it'll all be explained in the next chapter where Kenny's own little subpart of the main story is tied together.
Also, I have never performed "cutting", or plan to, or think of, or suggest anyone to. (No it's not in the story, but you'll see.)
Lastly, the second with Italics is indeed a flashback
Enjoy this chapter! – Tokay
The radio was playing in the kitchen of Stan Marsh's home.
"… And that was our weather for today. But, now Derek, tell me this. What's wrong with this town? Everywhere I go, there's no cheer, no smiles. It's the holidays, and even more, it's gonna snow—a fresh coat of snow—right on Christmas day. Isn't that just something to smile about? What's wrong with South Park?"
Large, full pink lips smeared with sparkling pink lip gloss. Her hair was twisted in an even tangle of honey-blonde curls. Bright, unnatural blue eyes were a point of interest for many males—but not him. He was focused on her large "D" cup breasts that were nearly bursting from the miniature silver swim suit she wore. She was not an anorexic model, instead, she had curved hips that showed signs of exercise—not starvation.
Kenny licked his lips before turning the page. One more glance at a beautiful model in nearly nothing at all and he couldn't take it anymore. His lips curled into a malevolent smirk as tossed the magazine to the floor. He jumped from his bed onto his feet with eagerness and turned to the small wooden table beside his bed clustered with clothes and trash. He rummaged with the mess like a dog digging into the damp mud for a bone he buried a week ago until he found a small cosmetic mirror.
He stared deep into the mirror, and pleased with the reflection, his smirk widened. But, when he noticed an incongruous lock, he spat of his fingers and smoothed down his untidy hair. He didn't like now it looked, though, so he shock his head and skipped out of his room, grabbing his orange parka as did.
Outside in the lonely, winter boulevards of the South Park suburbs, Kenny zipped his coat and stormed the streets. He found his way across the tracks and into the town by nightfall and South Park became a place he didn't recognize. The bars were packed and the families were inside. That was when they thrived, though, on the corners in the shadows. Of different ages and sizes, but they never blended in with the crowds.
She found him first. Looking past the coat, she could see what he wanted. Looking at his coat, she could tell that he probably didn't have much however. But, he was cute and having no shame, she called to him, "Hey, kid," and that was all she needed to say.
Kenny turned around to find a teenage girl, young, fourteen at the most. She was nothing like they girls in the magazine. She was thin, too thin, with no hips and a tiny bust. Her face was distorted with make-up. Too much black eyeliner and mascara, yet she still used to light pinks and blues to soften her appearance. Her lip gloss was still wet from over-applying. It was all too intoxicating at the moment.
Still, he answered her request without words and the next thing he knew, he was in alleyway behind bags of trash and standing in a puddle of a stranger's piss. The air stank of urine, semen, and trash as she pushed him up against a brick wall. He couldn't think anymore as it didn't feel right. She tugged his pants down to his knees and began work on her own. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't what he thought it would be. He screamed into the empty air, pulled up his pants and ran into the night with tears spilling from his eyes.
"What do you think about this one, hun?" Liane Cartman stood beside a towering evergreen tree. Each of its pine needles were at the perfect shade of a healthy green. It was full all the way around and had a perfect length top branch for the star that would it would later be decorated with. Even so, it wasn't quite big enough when Cartman saw Stan's family pick out an even larger tree—better, by only slightly.
"It's. Not. Big. ENOUGH!!!" Cartman whined and stomped his feet, crushing the fallen pine needles beneath his heels.
"Ok, hun," his mother answered calmly and preceded to searching through the forty-dollar Christmas trees.
Out of a corn maze of trees, Kyle's small, ten-year-old figure emerged. As a Jew, he of course did not pursue in such traditional Christian activities as selecting evergreen trees to decorate, but he enjoyed tagging along with them to explore their religion.
"When does Hanukkah start this year, Kyle?" Stan asked his red-headed companion with interest.
Kyle smiled at the thought of it. "The fifteenth. At sunset, 'course."
Tired of seeing the two resolve to having their own personal conversations as a result of what he saw at Stark's pond the previous day, Cartman joined in nonchalantly. "What do you actually do on Chun-a-ka?"
"Don't you ask this every year, Cartman?" Stan stated, a bit annoyed with Cartman's obvious motives.
Kyle ignored Stan and explained, "It's Hanukkah, and it's when we light candles—"
"NO! The calendar says that it's Chun-a-ka!!" Cartman insisted.
"… For each night that the—"
"Yeah, yeah! Forget I asked!" Cartman said as he walked away to join his mother in their tree selection.
Staring right back at Kyle, Stan shrugged in reply to Cartman's random participation in their small-talk. But still young and curious about the world, and filled with the desire for an adventure, he took Kyle's hand and led him through the mazes of trees. They pushed through the prickling green needles, and crawled through the cracks to the other side. Snow fallen from the branches they fondled with landed on their shoulders and was dusted off a small gust of chilly wind. Light that poured from hanging paper lanterns beat down on them and completed the moment.
Absorbed in their fun, their slipped past the branches of another tree and ran right into a lean man in black and navy parka. They apologize nervously, their faces pink in blush, and walked backwards out of trouble shamefully. However, as they backpedal, they made impact with another person. It is Cartman, who is irked by their behavior.
His sharp, arched eye brows were threatening for a slight second, but they horror vanished when they heard his high pitched voice. "Out of my way, fags!" But even after he uttered the word "fag", he thought of Kenny and when they walked home hand-in-hand under the light spray of the snow. His stomach lurched, and so he tried to disregard the thought.
Randy Marsh's voice cut through his thoughts. "Alright boys, are you ready to go? Stan, your mom and I were thinking that you could invite your little friends over for some hot chocolate tonight. It's supposed to go down to negative five tonight!"
Stan turned to his left to Kyle at his side. He smiled and nodded eagerly, his green eyes filled with anticipation. Stan then cocked his head to glance back at where Cartman trailed behind.
"Cartman, do you want some hot chocolate?!" He called.
"Hot chocolate?" Cartman piped. His spirits rose at the thought of the warm, chocolaty liquid down his throat. Perhaps that was the reason as to why he had gained so much weight as a child—to forget his miseries. He wasn't a happy child at all.
"I guess that's a yes. Well, you have to get Kenny then, and we'll meet at my house," Stan declared, and they split.
The stars suddenly glittered in the sky.
Cartman had never agreed to fetch Kenny, but he felt that he was obligated to. He didn't have a choice in the matter. All over, he had mix feeling about it. He hated to think that Kyle and Stan sent him out to get him out of their way, but it was to be alone with Kenny again.
What? Where did that come from!? He thought.
Still, Cartman would never admit it, but sometimes Kenny scared him. He was so baffling anymore, and he felt that their relationship as friends was slipping away and crumbling like the dying leaves of autumn. That hurt him, not because of his questionable crush on Kenny, but because he loved his friend. He truly cared for him, the rest of the group too, but Kenny especially. It had always been Stan and Kyle, and that left Kenny and Cartman—even though they never really got along.
Cartman stuffed his hands into his pockets as he felt the familiarity of the situation. It was like déjà vu, and he have expected to find Kenny under the streetlight on the curb once more. But, when he finally trekked the large hill before the streetlight, he found nothing but the memory of Kenny.
Cartman's courage further broke apart when he reached Kenny's house. He suddenly did not want to go through with the plan. Right now, he just wanted to go back home and help his mother decorate their perfect evergreen tree. His throat went dry and he worried that if he knocked, Kenny wouldn't come to the door and he would panic and leave.
But within the depths of woe, there comes relief. And like the rush of a knife against a wrist, there is always a dirty after-feeling. Kenny swept up from behind like a shadow and wrapped his arms around his stout friend's neck in a loose loop.
"Cartman," he greeted through the dust. "Looking for me?"
Feeling feeble in his vulnerable position, he stumbled on his words and fell flat in the end. "No..I was just..Stan wanted to see if you wanted to come over his house.. for you know.."
Kenny laughed upon the end of Cartman's sentence. At first, he thought that Kenny was laughing at his weak form, but then he found his laughter to be playful and not destructive. "No, I don't know," he replied with another giggle.
"Hot chocolate!" Cartman pretended to be mad with the situation, pretended to not care that Kenny was wrapped around him, and pretended that the rhythm in his chest was a false beat, and so he broke free of the younger boy's grasp with force.
With his back sharply turned on Kenny, he couldn't see how the boy recoiled as a reaction to his touch. He was truly hurt.
Another cloud moved across the sky and over the darkness that covered Kenny's face in the night, a twisted smirk manifested itself upon his lips and the moment of feeling was gone. He rebuilt his surface and came over Cartman with malice and anger he aimed towards himself, he planned to take the repulsive creature to the ground and perform revenge. He slinked up to Cartman once more. With grappling hooks for hands, he clamped down on Cartman's shoulders and held his ground by digging his nails into the large boy's jacket. Over the boy's shoulder, Kenny cocked his head and whispered into his right ear with wickedness.
"You know Stan and Kyle really sent you here to get me?" His words breathy, and they fell down Cartman's neck in a cold shiver that caused his to shake slightly in place.
Kenny tightened his grip to a firmer hold and continued, "…They went up into Stan's room, and they…" Kenny's words became quiet and pulled away, loosening his grip along the way.
Cartman never turned. He remained still into the night; silent. It wasn't the words itself that scared him; he knew well that they could've been true and didn't care. It was the words from Kenny. The truth was: it terrified him.
Kenny could have left things as they were. Cartman was afraid enough. But it didn't soothe the pain within and so he took it further. The blonde returned once more behind Cartman and planted a wet kiss on the back of his neck. He lingered as he broke off and licked the area of the kiss to add even more moisture.
The walk to Stan's house was silent.
The four sat on the living room floor of Stan's house in a circle, like knights at the Round Table. With hot chocolate mugs in each of their hands, complete with miniature marshmallows, the four grinned when Kyle mentioned their "BFF" necklaces. Each of them put down their mugs and dug into their shirts to reveal their silver necklaces that they always wore. And out of the moment, the story of the origin of the necklaces was told.
Sometimes it was the snow that sprinkled evenly onto the ground that the memory of a winter years before recollected in their minds. It was the memory of a vow they planned to keep. And even in their sad slumps they could still taste the snows on their tongues as they stood new-deep in snow on a Christmas night.
They were just having fun, being kids, building snowmen and creating snow angels. In their winter snow globe the happy world was trapped forever. And when duty called in the form of their guardians, they disappeared from their places and fell into the slow-mo pace of the world on Christmas night. Down the streets, past houses lit by artificial colored lights and plastic decorations of reindeer and Santa Claus', they ran aimlessly, laughing all the way to the corner stop sign.
They came across children of South Park in their class, and they ran together. A friendly old man in town passed out candy canes. Swirled in white and red, the peppermint stuck to their tongues and warmed their spirits with each lick.
But the town became a bore, and so the group ran back down the streets, back to their homes where they'd be safe from harm. Harm, however, was not present that night. Back at Stan's house, they were called inside just in time for warm cherry pie and ice cream.
They fell into a circle, their circle of friends; the very one they sat at today. And between it all, they revealed another present from beneath the tree. Inside there were two silver hearts and four silver chains. Stan gave half of his heart to Kyle. Cartman gave half of his heart to Kenny.
"We'll be best friends forever," they all agreed.
But under a different moon, after time changes you, their necklaces, their tokens of friendship, rust from overuse and things crumble.
The metal still glimmered in the dim evening light, faintly, but there. Cartman held up his half, in the light, and watched the illumination bounce from the source across the silver. When he moved the heart from out of his view, he saw Kenny sitting across from him.
Kenny's eyes were not the same. His blue spheres, once lively and curious, were stained from pornography and the dirty, mature half of the world. They were filled with something the boys didn't understand—passion. Even its origin did not grasp such a powerful feeling; the desire for the ecstasy only containable through obsession. It pained the boy to not know, and it hurt his friends even more to watch their friend dwindle down and make poor choices. To them—Kenny's future was dull and fuzzy.
For Cartman, crushing over his supposed best friend, things were difficult. He tried to go on thinking that it would only be a phase, a result of his own confusion. It would pass when things became a little a clearer. But for now, things were twisting and his mind was a puzzle of thoughts. He could figure it all out.
To further bring the overweight boy into hysteria, Kenny stared across the room at him with his eyebrows rising in a suggestive manner. He smiled devilishly, and mouthed evocative statements. But Cartman couldn't understand them and still hung-over the wet kiss, he looked away blushing. He tried to ignore Kenny's staring and opened his ears to Kyle and Stan's conversation beside him.
"Have you have had a time when you're at some event so something where your best friend was supposed to be too, but they never showed up? The whole time the even goes on, and you drift about, just waiting for that moment when your best friend would make some great, amazing, grand entrance, and they immediately greet and join you before anyone else. But, at the end of the event, they never come, and then you just kick up the dirt," Stan said to Kyle. He had always been sensitive. "Has that ever happened to you Kyle?"
Kyle looked away, thinking deeply. "Yeah."
After a while, the clock struck ten and Stan's parents decided that it was best if the boys went home. Slowly, one-by-one they did leave. But outside of the Marsh's house, Cartman waited for Kenny. He couldn't anymore. His mind screamed, but his heart screamed louder.
Kenny exited the house with class and pride. But his demon smirk faded once he came into contact with the red-faced Cartman. "Cartman," he asked innocent.
Between gritted teeth Cartman growled, "Don't even!"
Kenny had not expected the reaction he received on Cartman's part. He had only wanted to make himself feel better, but he had twisted with his friend's emotions to the point that he wouldn't take it anyone. It was no longer a game.
"You god damn, son of a bitch…" he blubbered as his eyes began to water. "I hate you, Kenny McCormick!"
Kenny melted. He felt pathetic and low. And just like when he crawled away to safety from the alley, he felt dirty. His skin itched as he bit down on his tongue till it bled.
Cartman's form collapsed and broke into a stuttering sob. He had never been a strong boy, but to watch his best friend burst into tears—the one who always had insults for everyone—was too much.
"We'll be best friends forever."
Kenny ran and didn't stop until he reached his bedroom.
