A/N: To Kinny and my idea of his perfect line of employment pft

Enjoy~

Light blue eyes scanned over the inventory list in front of him, lips twisting as his pen led him down the page. He hated doing this on a goddamn weekly basis, but he knew better than anyone that things had a tendency to go missing in a facility like this. Not as though he could particularly blame the kids who took the items, but it sure as hell didn't make his job any easier.

A knock on the supply closet door caught his attention, messing up his count of canned corn stacked in the corner. "What?" he called.

The door creaked open and a child poked her head in, frowning worriedly. "Ken, can ya come help? Bryce and Jason are fighting again."

"Aw shit," he muttered, tossing the clipboard down and ushering the girl from the doorway, following her as she lead him through the corridor out to the main hall of the recreational center. His peripheral caught two teens shoving each other and yelling and he broke out into a run. "Hey, HEY!" he shouted, making his way towards them and ripping them apart from each other, getting in the middle of the scuffle. "Guys what the fuck?" he snapped, looking at them both sternly. "Ya promised to stop."

Bryce, a kid of not seventeen with dirtied rust hair cut short against his scalp crossed his arms angrily and gestured to the other boy. "Mr. Special over there got the job we both wanted!"

"Well sorry that I'm better than you," Jason hissed.

"Hey, knock it off," Kenny warned, pointing at him firmly. "You ain't better than anyone, Jason. But neither are you," he nodded at Bryce who just continued to glare at his opponent. The blonde sighed tiredly, looking at the group of kids surrounding them, eager to see another fight break out. Not on his goddamn watch.

"Look, Man, it's fuckin' baggin' groceries," Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Stop actin' like I'm makin' it big."

He gritted his teeth, "Something's better than nothing, Asshole!"

"All right, stop!" Kenny said sharply. "Jason, be cool. Bryce, come with me," he directed, grasping the boy's shoulder and turning him around. The teen looked back, seeing Jason smirking at him victoriously and growling.

"Why am I the only one gettin' in trouble?" he demanded.

Ken groaned, "You aren't in trouble, Dude," he promised, leading him to the East side of the building and throwing open his office door, leading him inside. He gestured for the kid to take a seat, watching him do so begrudgingly, arms crossed and lips fumbling in angry mutters. He plopped down in his own chair, ripping open the small fridge beside his desk and tossing Bryce a Dr. Pepper.

"Thanks," he mumbled, popping the top and taking a long, bitter sip.

Kenny grabbed his own soda, watching him carefully and sighing. "Bryce, why are you so angry at him?" he asked softly. "He didn't do shit to you."

Steely grey eyes met his and a frustrated breath broke through carbonated lips. "He doesn't need this."

The blonde narrowed his eyes, taking a long sip of Coke and cocking his head. "Kiddo, you all need help. That's why you're here," he reminded him.

"Okay, okay," he conceded, holding up his free hand in defense. "He doesn't need it as much."

Ken leaned his cheek into his palm and shrugged, "His parents can't find work, Kiddo. He wants to help get them back into an apartment."

"But it's just those three," he insisted angrily. "He ain't got no brothers or sisters! I got fuckin' five! And I'm the only one who can work!" he snapped.

The man winced, watching his posture slipping from stiffened, adrenalized rage into defeat. "Thought you had an older sister," he said softly.

He scoffed, "She ain't around anymore. She learned pretty fuckin' fast that you can make money bein' a slut, so she got her cash and took off with a fuckin' sugar daddy."

Kenny sighed, nodding softly. He'd seen it often enough, unfortunately many of those girls had come here for help prior to figuring out the easiest way to make a quick buck. He'd done all he could over the time to get them out of that path, going so far as to give monthly free classes on safe sex, but when dealing with homeless youths, desperation always outweighed common sense. It was a hard truth that every person in this building of his had had to learn: Sometimes it didn't matter what that first grab was, whether it be a 'stable' job or food laced by a corporation who didn't want them taking their dumpster leftovers. The chance just had to be taken now and again.

"No luck on your parent's end, huh?" he continued.

Bryce shook his head, "No. With Ma not bein' able to walk good and Dad only gettin' in at fuckin' KFC, they ain't makin' shit."

Kenny nodded softly, tucking a mussed strand of blonde behind his ear and rolling up his hoodie sleeves. "Hard to find jobs in this town," he winced. "But you're tryin', that's what matters, Kiddo."

The boy frowned, "No, what matters is actually finding a job. Not just fuckin' applyin' and gettin' nowhere." He flicked the top of his soda can and sighed, "My brother can't start workin' for like, two years, Ken," he said emptily. "We can't wait that long."

Kenny's shoulders sunk solemnly and he scratched at his hair, watching the boy in front of him and remembering all at once being sixteen himself, desperately seeking a job. His own parents were never exactly the working type to say the very least. His older brother, Kevin, was doing what he could to support the family of five supervising at the J-Mart but could only do so much. Kenny searched for a job nonstop between classes, knowing well enough that they were always on the verge of losing their house. For nearly six months he'd floundered, being shown out the door for every damn establishment he'd applied for.

He'd lucked out in the end, however, when Kyle managed to give up his own position at the high school bookstore for Kenny to be able to come in in his place. He smiled fondly to himself, remembering Kyle throwing him a new ID badge and scoffing at his insistence that it wasn't necessary. "Dude, stop being stupid," he'd lectured him. "Besides, new semester starts in a week which means overtime which means more money. I only took the job in the first place for a damn new computer and I got that already, you need it more."

That little year and a half job gave him the padding for his resume that he needed, able to snag himself three jobs at once once high school ended and get himself and his brother and sister out and into a two bedroom apartment at twenty. The years wore on and Kevin and Karen both managed to save up the money to get out on their own, staying nearby because, as their parents had managed to drill in them for so very long: McCormick's are stuck with each other. Not that the three of them minded too much, able to go to either sibling should things get too rough down the line as life started to happen.

But now, Kevin was married with a kid, Karen was living with a long-term boyfriend, and Kenny was working his own dreams: Paying off loans from the bank to keep the old town community center in his name. For nearly four years he'd kept it up, driving a non-profit organization to what could be considered its peak. Desperate kids needing food, education, and job placement was the one thing he thought was more important than all else, crawling out of that cesspool himself. The old American way of pulling oneself up by the bootstraps was long gone, life was just getting harder with each passing year for those wallowing in poverty, especially for kids.

Kenny watched Bryce sinking lower and bit his lip, "Look, I can't promise you one way or the other. All I can do is call people and tell them that we have kids looking for a job, how they fill those jobs is up to them."

"I know, I ain't mad at you," he said tiredly, rubbing his arm. "It just ain't fair, ya know? I can fuckin' run a cash register. I can get damn carts. I know how to put stuff away... Why won't anyone hire me?"

"I can't tell ya, Kiddo," he winced. "Like i said, this town doesn't have a lot of jobs. And people usually hire adults over kids."

"But the adults can all get real jobs!" he snapped desperately.

He smiled sadly, "Not all of 'em. You think I just woke up and all of a sudden opened this place?" he gestured around. "I was workin' managing a damn deli until I saved up the money to get the bank to take me seriously, Dude. I had four people who worked for me that were in their forties. It ain't as simple as it looks. All you can do is keep trying and try not to hate other people for bein' more fortunate. You know it doesn't get ya nowhere," he added.

Bryce sighed and nodded, "Yeah. I guess. Jason's still a dick, though."

"I mean, I'm not denying that," he rolled his eyes amusedly. He wasn't exactly fond of the blonde out there either, but he had to at least pretend he cared, despite the kid's boastful attitude. "Look, I'll see what I can do, okay?" he promised.

"Thanks," he smiled meekly. "How'd you get started workin', Ken?"

He grinned, "I got super lucky. Good friend helped me out. You've met him before, he's that short redhead guy who comes in now and then to help set up weekend events and does some of the tutoring," he waved dismissively.

"That number nerd?" he cocked his brow.

Kenny snorted and nodded, "Yeah, that number nerd."

He smirked, getting up onto his feet and cracking his back, "Surprised he's your friend. He's high-strung as fuck."

He shrugged, "Trust me, if you worked the job he does, you would be, too." Bryce tilted his head and Kenny chuckled, "Being a number nerd is his full-time profession. But he makes money that would give any of us in here a damn hard-on, so he staves through it."

"Lucky him," he muttered.

"He worked for it, Man," he said softly. "He worked for that, I worked to get this place up and running. Doesn't always just fall into your lap by chance."

The teen sighed and nodded, "Easier said than done."

"I know," he sympathized, getting to his feet and walking with him out of the office. "It'll come around, Kiddo. I promise." He looked back out into the rec hall and raised his brow, "If Jason acts...well, like Jason. Come find me. I can't have you two fighting all the damn time, kinda harshes the peace-lovin' vibes I try to instill on you children."

Bryce snorted and rolled his eyes, "Thought you told us not to aspire to be hippies."

"Take the values, not the actions," he teased, flicking his shoulder lightly. "I'll check in with more jobs for ya."

"Thanks, Ken," he said earnestly, turning and heading back towards the group in the middle of the hall. Kenny watched after him a moment before sighing and making his way down the length of the arena. Summer was always the hardest time. The kids didn't have school to feed them or keep them occupied, they were always just restless until they could go to the shelter at night to see their parents and have a place to sleep before trudging back in in the morning. Finding ways to keep them busy was just beyond difficult some days.

He made his way up to a small side office and rapped on the door hearing a muffled, "Come in!" He smiled, pushing the barrier open and seeing Bebe sitting at her desk, pencil clenched between her teeth and a frustrated crease over her brow. She glanced up, spitting out the writing utensil and smiling tiredly, "Hey, Kenny."

"Hey," he nodded, closing the door behind him and sitting in front of her desk.

Sharp hazel eyes caught a bandage slapped over his arm and she cocked her head, "Sweetie, what happened?"

He glanced at the wrapping and shrugged, "I'm a clumsy fuck."

She chuckled, "True, silly of me to ask. What's up?"

"Look, I need to know how much excess money we have," he scratched at his hair listlessly.

Her face fell into a small frown, "Not a lot if we're being honest here, Kenny. Why?"

"Because it's summer and I need to get some of these kids some money somehow," he shrugged again. "Job market's worse than it was last year, I don't think we prepared enough."

She nodded softly in agreement, sighing and fighting to get a folder opened on her nearly-rustic desktop. She shook her head and smirked tiredly, "I don't think Kyle considered how shit my computer is when he gave me software."

Kenny chuckled, "Well he was trying to help."

"I know," she rolled her eyes amusedly. "Think we can convince Cartman to donate a new computer?"

"We'd be lucky if Fatass donated us a box of paperclips," he cocked his brow.

She laughed, nodding in agreement and watching her form slowly popping up one line at a time. She watched studiously, lips twisting. "Man, speaking of, donations are really down this year."

Kenny narrowed his eyes, "How down are we talking?"

"I'm talking thousands," she muttered, hand going over her mouth as she watched the figures sprawling up before her.

The blonde hummed a bit, getting to his feet and coming up behind her, watching with her as the numbers fell into place. He blinked in shock, "Fucking shit. That's barely enough to keep us fucking open, let alone do much else!"

"This doesn't make sense," Bebe murmured, ripping open a rickety filing cabinet beside her and shuffling through folders. She ripped one out from the previous year with the subheading 'Donations' and tossed it onto her cluttered desk. Flipping through papers, she ripped one out, looking between the physical sheet and the Excel document, biting her lip. "Look," she handed Kenny the paper, watching him doing his own comparison and his face falling worriedly.

"How the fuck did we lose that much money over a fucking year?"

"It's not what we lost, it's just comparing this month's total from last year to this one," she explained. "But yeah, we shouldn't be over $6,000 down. Especially since we picked up on promotions this year."

He twisted his lips, tapping his finger against the back of her chair. "How much do we usually vary?"

She shrugged, "Usually between five and six hundred." Bebe crossed her arms thoughtfully, glancing up at his concerned expression. "Cartman's company picked up our promotions this year since the old one shut down."

Kenny narrowed his eyes, "Shouldn't that have gotten us more money? He's more widespread than the old place," he waved his hand aimlessly.

"Yeah, that's what's so weird," she blinked. "Maybe people are just super fucking greedy this year."

He leaned his chin into his palm and nodded softly. "See, I'd believe that, but considering how many clothes and how much food we've gotten, I'm finding that hard to understand."

She nodded in agreement, picking up her pencil and tapping it against her lips in thought. "True, we almost have too much of that stuff."

"And it's kids," he added. "Kids and animals, Man, those are the ones that always get the money first. This doesn't fucking add up."

Bebe sighed, biting on her eraser. "Well, whaddya propose?"

"Let me go check something out first, I'll plan it from there," he said, patting her shoulder and heading out of her office. He glanced across the way towards the front door, seeing his assistant lingering by talking to a group of kids and heading towards them. "Yo, Clyde!"

The brunette looked up at him in shock before settling and waving listlessly. "'Sup?"

"You're in charge for a bit, I gotta run out."

He grinned and shrugged, "You mean do your job and just sit in the office looking at tittie magazines all day?"

"Hey, I promote gender equality. Ya look at tits, gotta give dicks the same amount of attention," he smirked, the man rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "And no, you get to do pantry inventory," he patted his shoulder. "Have fun."

"Oh you fuck," he sighed irritably, waving him off.

Kenny headed out the door, waving to a few kids lingering around the outside playing basketball as he headed down the sidewalk towards the outskirts of town. He shoved his hands into his pockets, a grimace falling on his face.

He depended on these donations. The kids did. Without the donations, he was up shit creek. Grants and investors could only carry him so far, still needing to pay goddamn rent and utilities and six salaries. He sighed tiredly, bright eyes dropping to the sidewalk as he trudged along. Poor 23 year old him didn't know just how much work a nonprofit took, his foolish notion of 'oh well it's not really a business' did not prepare him for the onslaught of responsibility being shoved in his face.

He was going to need Kyle to make him another goddamn budget plan at this rate.

Coming up to a gas station resting at the base of the hill leading up to his center, he let himself pause, mind whirring. He glanced inside and caught the bright orange bucket on the counter, nodding to himself and stepping into the building, maintaining a cooled demeanor.

"Hello!" the clerk greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey," he nodded back, listlessly grabbing a soda from the cooler beside him and walking to her counter.

She smiled, "That all?"

"Pack of Marb Smooths, please," he said, watching her bustle off before glancing down to the bucket on the counter with the bold 'Park County Center for Homeless Youths' plastered across the front of the translucent container. He narrowed his eyes a bit, seeing the money practically filling up to the brim and twisting his lips. He jerked back up as she came back up in front of him.

"$10.23," she informed him, grasping the twenty he held out for her and quickly working through her till. He slid the cigarettes into his pocket, tapping his finger against the lid of his soda as she double checked her count and handed him his change. "There you are," she smiled.

He politely grinned back, "Thanks." He dropped the change down into the bucket and cleared his throat. "How much money does this guy get anyway?" he asked cooly, tapping the locked container pointedly.

She shrugged, "Well, we send the profits back to the company once a week, usually about four buckets full at least. I see 'em everywhere."

"Gotta keep the kids safe," he smiled meekly.

The girl nodded in agreement, "Keeps other people safe, too. Homeless people resorting to violence and whatnot."

Kenny kept himself from scowling, just gritting his teeth and nodding. "Yeah. Thanks again," he said, ignoring her good-byes and storming out of the building. He scoffed, rolling his eyes and tapping his soda bottle against his hand, ripping out a half-full pack of smokes from his hoodie pocket and shakily lighting it up, taking a heavy breath and letting the smoke seep from his nose. This wasn't adding up. This just didn't make sense for them to be losing so much goddamn money...

He frowned, fumbling with the items in his hands to grab his phone, whipping it out and quickly scrolling through names, finding 'Kyle - Work'

He pressed the button and slammed it to his ear, taking another long drag and listening to the ringing on the other line before it picked up all at once. "CartAd Agencies, this is Valerie speaking. How can I help you?"

"Yeah, I need to talk to Kyle Broflovski," he dictated.

"One moment please," she said, tone falling dry and completely unenthusiastic. Kenny smirked, she was probably used to directing calls to the poor guy all damn day. He bounced in his place, ashing down onto the sidewalk and glancing up at the blue sky. He stifled a long yawn, wondering briefly if upping his caffeine intake from his long nights would help or just result in a damn heart attack.

"Afternoon, this is Kyle," a very tired voice appeared.

Kenny smirked, "Dude, you're gonna go grey if you keep up that tone," he teased.

Kyle snorted, "Tell me about it. Finding dye in my shade will be a fucking nightmare. What's up, Ken?"

"Soooo can you do me a bit of a favor?"

He paused for a moment, "Depends on the favor."

Ken rolled his eyes amusedly, "Would it make a difference if I said it's for the good of the children?"

Kyle laughed softly, "Dude, I don't have the time to help you plan some other function. I mean maybe I can sneak in a few hours but-"

"No, no," he assured him. "Actual business stuff. Financially related."

Another pause, "Bebe didn't mess up something, did she? I told her to call me if she got stuck."

Kenny sighed, turning and heading back to walk towards the center once more. "Nah, Dude. Look, something just seems kinda off and I wanted to know if you could just take a few minutes to look at it. Could you drop by after work?" he winced.

He heard Kyle shuffling through papers and muttering to himself. "Okay, I can't stop by tonight, I have a Design nightmare on my hands. And tomorrow I have a meeting with Production until seven. Can you do Monday?"

Ken's face fell concernedly, "Geez, Ky, do you get any time to yourself?"

He laughed exhaustedly, "Ask one of my co-workers in Processing. Bitch will tell you that I have nothing but time to myself with my lonely pathetic existence."

"Fire that cunt," Kenny scoffed.

"I would, Man, but she works too damn fast. Anyway. Monday?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Monday's fine... Try to take it easy, Dude."

"Not my style, Ken. I'll see ya then."

"See ya," he agreed, hanging up and biting his lip, throwing his half-finished cigarette onto the sidewalk and stamping it down until it fizzled out. He glanced up to see the kids still playing basketball and bit his lip worriedly. If there was one thing that Kenny had adapted over the years, it was the absolute trust of his gut feeling when faced with any kind of situation. Unfortunately, this one was just screaming trouble.

A/N: The next few chapters are kinda businessy, setting my basis and whatnot wow so exciting

Thanks for R&Ring!