The white cloth was coarse to his touch, his finger tracing the edges of the material as it curved around his hand. It was officially the most pain he had ever experienced, over throwing the haemorrhoids he'd had as a kid to take the top spot. The bandage was tight and a little lopsided, but it did the job. Two and a half hours of unrivalled agony it had taken to fit that thing. He had taken painkillers before starting, but the whole experience had been a flurry of tears and shouting, and now he could only hope that this botch job would prevent lasting damage. Proper medical treatment was clearly not an option.

"Kyle?" His boss' unmistakable voice snapped him out of his daydreaming, but he expertly pretended to be working within a split second; in a job like that you get used to being able to switch off and on in an instant. "Can I see you in my office please?"

Shit, shit, shit. What was wrong now, on his first day back? He had managed (pretty impressively) to get himself back from Denver on Sunday evening and bandage his hand up, only missing one shift at Shakey's but getting here on time Monday morning. He opened the door and accepted the offer of a seat from Token.

"Kyle, I'm sure you remember our conversation last week..." He began, taking a seat himself.

"Yes of course, as I said I'm deeply sorry about that Mr Black, it won't happen again." Kyle replied, starting to worry that maybe his suspension wasn't deemed harsh enough punishment.

"Don't worry, it's not about that side of it." Token smiled at him. "I've had another look at the numbers, and actually there was some pretty shoddy accounting going on here. There was an error on the finances which means our expenses are lower than previously thought; some old standing orders that expired years ago were still being recorded as an expense."

"Oh right, well that's good news." Kyle said, unsure of exactly how this affected him, but at least he wasn't being fired.

"Yes it is." Token looked down at some spread sheet in front of him, before circling a number and sliding it to Kyle. "I'm going to use some of the money to give you a pay rise, as you can see there."

Kyle stared at the number in front of him. His hourly wage had almost doubled. "Ah...Jesus...that's incredible, thank you, thank you Mr Black," Kyle said, finding an unfamiliar feeling washing over him; was it joy, or hope? Either way it made him almost want to cry, or engulf Token in a hug. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't, that's the point I was about to make." Token said, stroking the neatly cropped stubble that covered his jaw and neck. "This isn't strictly 'above board', shall we say. It's nothing illegal, but for the reasons I mentioned last time it must remain confidential, and I won't be documenting the expense. Needless to say you must keep this absolutely quiet."

"Oh absolutely, thanks again, this is a real life saver." Kyle said, before adding quietly, "Speaking outside of the office quickly, you're a great friend, Token."

Token gave him a heavy looking half-smile before responding, "This isn't charity Kyle, you deserve this. Actually you deserve better than this job altogether, I hope one day soon you get out of here."

"Thanks," Kyle said, smiling back before getting up and heading back to work, resisting the urge to start jumping up and down and fist pumping, or dancing around the office. This was the best thing that could have happened to him, this could change everything.

"Oh and Kyle, what happened to your hand?" Token asked just as Kyle pulled the door open.

"Ah this," he said holding his left hand up, "I shut it in my car door. It was pretty painful but it's only superficial I think."

"Okay, well take it easy, it looks a little swollen even from here, or that's a hell of a lot of bandage round it..."

"Probably a bit of both!" Kyle lied, his left hand looked half human and half hulk, it was grim.

Sitting back at his desk his mind had already begun working out the permutations of this raise. This put him close, really close, to being able to pay this loan off (most of which he'd already spent paying electricity and card bills the second it arrived in his account last night). It meant he only had to find a couple of hundred extra dollars a week to break even; for the first time it actually seemed achievable. The fear that had gripped him the night before was lifted; Cartman's intimidation seemed hollow, he was just a pawn in another man's game, and now Kyle could get the money together he had nothing to fear. He was going to be okay, after all.

"Good Morning Sir, have you considered changing your broadband provider?"

"Apologies, it wasn't our intention to disturb you."

"I can take you off our list if you-"

"I would appreciate it if you didn't swear at me sir."

X

The view from his roof was one Stan hadn't seen in a long time. In fact, the last time he had been up here must have been around Christmas time at least eight years ago. The four of them (the usual suspects) had climbed onto the roof, first onto the garage and then jumping across to the house. It was dangerous, especially in the snow, but how else would they have gotten such a perfect vantage point to pelt passers-by with snowballs? He'd been grounded for a weekend for that one. It wasn't winter now and the rooftops were bare, and to Stan that made the view a lot less interesting; the snow seemed to cover up the cracks of the town, with all its run-of-the-mill, tired looking buildings, and made it seem perfect. He realised that under his glove two of his fingertips were still not quite their normal color after being frozen, and yet there he was musing about his love of the cold weather. Suddenly it seemed a little ridiculous.

"Could you quit daydreaming Stanley and pass me those tiles?" He turned around to see his Dad waving a hammer in front of his face. "Hello?"

"Yeah, yeah, here you go, chill." He replied passing the pile of roof tiles across.

"So," Randy began, breaking the silence that Stan had been thoroughly enjoying. "You got yourself a New Yorker girlfriend yet?" As he spoke he placed a nail gently over one of the tiles and beginning to tap it in.

"Nope, not yet."

"Oh, let me guess, you've found a Jersey girl haven't you? I bet they're a bit freakier, if you know what I mean." Stan got a free wink and a nudge to the ribs with that comment, which actually almost unbalanced him for a second. The vision of plummeting off the roof to his death, with the last thing he heard being his Dad discussing the relative merits of New York or New Jersey girls in bed, was not the way he wanted to go.

"Jesus." He replied. "No I'm single right now. Work is pretty hectic actually."

"Well make sure you don't work your whole youth away son, if you don't find someone while you're young it only gets harder." That actually seemed like sound advice from Randy Marsh, if such a thing was possible. They probably had different ideas about who that 'someone' should be though. His dad envisioning a lingerie model or something, and he had the image of a redheaded Jewish boy engraved on the underside of his eyelids.

"Yeah, I won't." He said taking his turn to tack in new tiles around where he was sitting.

"I know I don't say this often son, but I'm proud of you." Randy said suddenly, after the pair had worked in silence for some time. "You've got a good job, you're turning into a great young man. One day you'll give your mother some great grandkids I'm sure." Stan just kept focused on the task in front of him. Pull back the hammer, hit the tack, pull back the hammer, hit the tack...

"She'd like that y'know. I just want you to get rich so you can buy me a speedboat." Stan gave Randy a small laugh for that; it sounded a lot more like him. A speedboat was a damn sight more likely than grandkids anyhow, though since he started giving a ton of his money straight to Token every week neither was looking likely. He'd be broke by the time he went back to New York at the rate it was going.

"Promise your old man that, Stanley. If you get rich, I get a speedboat." Randy held out his hand to seal the deal, "and not just any crappy thing, a Princess."

"Okay, as long as you don't make me help you with anymore DIY while I'm back. We're doing the roof but I'm not going near those drains again, not ever." Stan replied, grabbing his hand and giving it an overly firm shake, enjoying being able to create the same look of slight discomfort that he'd felt at Randy's vice like grip as a kid.

"Oh you're stronger than your old man now, I get it." Randy suddenly jerked his arm as he spoke, throwing Stan off balance and making him clutch onto his father for support. "You can't get the best of me just yet though kid."

Stan gave him evils as he moved back to his old sitting position. "Not funny dude, dangerous."

Stan didn't follow Randy off the roof after they'd finished, deciding instead to stay up there and watch the sunset. As much as he wanted to clear his head and just enjoy the moment, he couldn't push the thought of talking to Kyle out of his mind. He laid flat, his back feeling every contour of the newly replaced tiles pressing against it. Why was he going to do this? He was going to throw it all away, 23 years of friendship gone in an instant. The peaks of the mountains were washed in an orange glow now as the sun started to edge behind them, and although he was still lying up on the roof questioning his decision, he wasn't going to back away from it. The reason he was risking everything was because what he had now wasn't everything after all; he had kept fooling himself these last few years that all he needed was to be close to Kyle again to be happy, as a friend, but now when he was with him he felt worse not better. He couldn't spend the rest of his life standing one step away from what he knew was the only thing that could make him truly content. His whole life he had this uncontrollable urge to make Kyle laugh, smile, or just to make him feel safe; if there was a God, Stan was pretty sure he had made him specifically for that purpose, and that didn't bother him at all. He knew he was totally unremarkable in almost every way; he wasn't really smart, or outrageously funny, and though he could play sport and a little guitar he never had a special gift for either. Anyone summarising his looks would have to say he looked...normal, he wasn't particularly attractive (though he supposed he wouldn't call himself ugly) and there was nothing unique about his appearance. Kyle on the other hand was one of a kind, striking to look at and instantly unforgettable, with a delicate face but a fierce stare. The contrast of his pale skin against emerald eyes and brilliant red hair (not ginger or strawberry, his hair was bold and unashamedly red) was unique and completely captivating, for Stan at least. Kyle had fast and consistent logic, strong principles and a generous spirit; his personality was every bit as complex and beautiful as he looked.

Only a handful of people on the planet can stand out like that. In fact, very few are lucky enough to even be close to one of them, so Stan knew there was one remarkable thing about him after all, and before it got so dark that he couldn't find his way off this god forsaken roof he was going to go and make sure he told that remarkable thing exactly how he felt.

X

Not a lot of excitement in that chapter I know (apologies), but it was needed. As I'm sure you can tell things are all about to come to a head pretty shortly and that just seemed like the right place to end the chapter. Thanks everyone who has stayed with the story so far and I hope you bear with it a little longer!