A/N: I love KinderGoth and everything, best of all, but Curly Goth is who I want as my best friend. He just seems cool and laid back and awesome. Oh, and I know that most of you believe the names are 'Georgie, Dylan, and Evan' for the goth boys, but I searched it up, and that was made up by a fan, not actual South Park, so I won't use those names.

(Ike POV)

"Two hundred and thirty-two miles to Middle Park. If we go at a steady pace at 60 miles an hour...we'll be there in roughly 10.5 hours if traffic is light and we don't stop, which is unlikely, so I'll say about 11 ½ hours." Shift figured that out in about ten seconds.

"Dude!" I exclaim. "You're good at math?"

"Yeah. I'm also good at writing poetry, dancing, and nonconforming," Shift said. Then his cell phne rang with some shitty goth band playing. He picked it up. "Hello?"

(Shift POV)

"I'm returning your call." I sigh with relief. It's the crow. The leader. Curly Goth, some called him. He was like my big brother to me, but I'd never tell him that. Always saving my ass.

"Crow, thank god."

"It's not really Crow now. I'm just Parker." He gruffs, and I hear him inhale a cigarette. I gasp.

"Have you gone to the light side?" I ask.

"No. I just think aliases are kind of high school and juvenile. I still hate fucking life, I still never conform. Parker is my last name, so that's not conforming as much. So shut the hell up, Charlie," he said. I ground my teeth together.

"Don't ever call me that!" I snap.

"Whatever." Drag of cigarette. "Why'd you call?"

"Vamps. They're back." I'm vaguely aware of Ike watching me with wary eyes. I know the volume is really loud on my phone, and everything else is silent, so he can probably hear every word.

"What? That's impossible. We burned down Hot Topic."

"There's been kidnappings of preppy A kids, taking them to Super Hot Topic, that underground one. We've been thinking Vampir is behind it."

"Wait...we?" Crow...er...Parker asks. "Who's 'we'?"

"Uh..." I sideways glance at Ike. "Me and Ike," I say quickly.

Pause. "Ike...Ike...Ike Brofloski?

"Yeah..."

"That faggy jock kid who has an even faggier brother?" Ike flinch. It's my time to pause. Oh, god. That's right. We would all call him the faggy jock kid. Oh god. We aren't homophobes, far from it. Scar, or Red Goth, and Parker have been making out behind Denny's for years. Not really gay, just, well, who the fuck cares? Ahhhh! What's going on here! Why should I care what the fuck Ike thinks?

"Yeah that one. Whatever. Just what should we do about the vamps?" I ask. Ike's now remorse, looking out the window. Shit. I sigh.

"Well, remember what vamps are afraid of: actual rebellion, aka smoking, drinking, etc, cutting, fucking terrifying people, ugly people, unique music. That's all."

"Well, that was a big help."

"Fuck you."

"Bye, CROW!" I hang up, and turn my head to Ike.

"I'm sorry..." Am I apologizing? Fuck.

Ike shrugs. "W-whatever."

I nod, and turn my eyes back on the road.

(Ike's POV)

The faggy jock kid with an even faggier brother, huh?

Well, fuck.

Fuck.

I'll say it again.

FUCK.

FUCK.

I hate myself.

I hate how everyone thinks I'm a fag.

I hate my brother because he is a fag.

I hate how I don't even know if I'm a fag.

I hate Shift for thinking I'm a fag like everyone else. What a conformist bastard.

I hate that word. Fag.

I hate how I'm a fucking fag, apparently.

I hate how my mother made me be normal.

I hate how much I want to be a nonconforming goth.

I hate how normal I am.

I hate that I'm a fag.

Wait...what?

(Shift's POV)

I hate how Ike thinks I'm a douche.

I hate how I am a douche.

I hate how I care what fucking Ike thinks.

I hate that I'm here.

I hate Parker for making Ike feel bad.

I hate that Ike feels bad.

I hate that word. Fag.

I hate how I think Ike's a fag, just like everyone else. I'm such a conforming bastard.

I hate how I can't seem to manage to say I'm sorry, for real. To Ike. About what a jerk I am.

Okay, I'll say it. No, I can't. Why should I care? I twist my naturally(the only one in the goths who has natural) black hair. I bite my lip.

"Ike, I...I..."

He looks up. "Yeah?"

I sigh. "We're here."

A/N: I know exactly what you're doing. Infering! Predicting! Guessing! No! Stop! Don't do it! Just read!