Did I confuse you with the first chapter? Hah, I hope so! This story will be full of mystery and it's up to you, as the reader, to predict what's going to happen next while waiting on the edge of your seats for the next chapter, that'll just leave you with more questions than the last, until the dramatic, wondrous conclusion!

Bwahaha!!

…At least that's what I hope will happen.

--

Blue Bubble Gum

"So why'd you do it, Broflovski?"

"I didn't. I couldn't. I swear."

"Don't give me that crap! Give me the truth!"

"I-I—that is the truth!"

"No it's not! I know it's not, the police know it's not, and you know it's not! Now tell me why the hell you killed your best friend before I turn you in to the cops and have you rot in jail!"

Kyle sat in a dimmed room, dark other than the creaky lamp rocking back and fourth over his head. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He ran out of tears long ago. Blood leaked from his mouth from the last time his perpetrator hit him.

"I…didn't do it. I didn't want to, anyway. Or maybe I did. Maybe I did do it. I don't know! I did, or didn't, or wanted, or maybe…" His voice was lost in his babbling once he was struck again. He coughed.

"Stop lying, you stupid fucking Jew! I know you did it," Eric Cartman leaned over the table to stare Kyle right in the face, natural brown eyes meeting unnatural ones.

"I-I…" Kyle just shook his head, turning his face away.

Cartman debated on grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at him, but he thought he would lose it if he saw that pathetic, disgusting face again. That Jew was lying—had to be—and he was going to get the truth out of him. The authorities could wait until he had at least that much information. He shook his head in disgust and left the hurt 20-year-old alone in the dark room.

--

First Monday Morning, 8am

The Coffee Shop

"Kyle! Hey, Kyle, over here!" Stan called, running over and man-hugging his super best friend since Kindergarten. "You'll never guess what happened!" He was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

Kyle couldn't help but laugh in amusement at his hyped-up friend. "What is it?"

"Guess!"

"Aw, come on, Stan. It's too early to guess stuff this early in the morning,"

"Fine, fine. I'll tell you once we get a couple espressos."

Before going inside, they looked around to examine the streets. It was virtually empty this time of day on a Monday. They shared glances before quickly bringing their lips together.

The two boys walked inside the coffee shop. They each ordered their specified drinks from the rude old waitress. The woman, dressed in stuff her granddaughter was probably wearing, blew a huge bubble with her blue bubble gum and scribbled down their order, before roller-skating away. The redhead and raven-haired boy glanced at each other, snickering when they noticed the wedgie the waitress had.

They shared a few words about work and college and family while they waited for their drinks. The waitress came back again, setting down each of their cups.

"Here ya go." She said in a tone that sounded more like 'I hope you burn yourselves.' With that, she skated away again without so much as asking if they needed anything else.

"Alright, so tell what was so important that you called me down here this early in the morning to have coffee with you," Kyle said, blowing on his coffee slowly and carefully before taking a small sip. He liked it black; especially since he was a diabetic.

Stan, on the other hand, loved putting as much sugar as he possibly could into his coffee. Kyle always told him he might as well just order a cup a sugar and pour a little coffee into it.

Stan smiled brightly up at his Jewish friend, blue eyes shining with excitement. "I'm getting married!"

Kyle thought he had just got shot in the heart by a machine gun.

His eyes glazed over and his shoulders slumped, but he didn't allow his smile to disappear. He knew this day would come eventually. He knew exactly who Stan was marrying, too, and he hated it.

But he would never let Stan know that. He loved Stan and wanted nothing but the best for him.

"That's great, Stan!" Kyle said, patting Stan's hand on the table.

Stan nodded, his gaze dropping to the side. He coughed awkwardly. "There's something else I need to tell you…"

Kyle cocked his head, jade green eyes locked on the boy in front of him. "What is it?" he asked slowly, silently begging for what he knew was to come to not come. Please, if there is a God…

"We can't see each other anymore." Another round of bullets shot through Kyle's heart. Direct hit. Bam, he was dead. But he didn't fall—no. He kept his head up, but stayed silent, not daring to open his mouth, afraid of the words that would come out. Stan stood up, patting Kyle's shoulder as he passed by him. "I have to go meet Wendy for the wedding plans. It's on Saturday. I'll talk to you later." With that, he was gone and Kyle was left in the practically empty little coffee shop with the rude, blue bubble gum chewing waitress.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to cry. Not yet anyway. He squeezed the glass of coffee in his hand until it shattered. Shards of glass impaled him, but he failed to notice.

"Hey! You're gonna pay fer that!" The waitress shouted from behind the kitchen counter. Kyle laid down the blood-stained cash and shoved open the doors.

There is no God.

--

So how'd you think of that? Did you all get what was going on between Stan and Kyle? That much I tried to make kind of obvious.