Chapter 11: The Outcasts II

(November 12th)

Phillip's P.O.V.

I remember how I met Damien. You can't exactly forget something like that though. The feeling of getting lit up like a firework never leaves one's person, you see.

But we were in elementary school then. He only wanted to be accepted. So in theory, he's the same as me. A similar past, yet a completely different outcome.

I myself am prided on being a joyous individual, whereas Damien dislikes most variety of… well… everything.

But as clearly as I remember how we met, I also remember the second time we did. It was in the summer of eighth grade, right after he came back. I remember reading a book on a park bench when he came up behind me.


Flash Back

Phillip's P.O.V.

A shadow came up from behind me and blocked the sunlight. "Hmm…?" I turn and look up, my eyes squinting against the bright halo around the person.

It was obviously a male. In all black too! I wondered how he survived in this heat. Everyone else was dying. It was a usual heat spell – for normal places in the world, like England, but here it's South Park. Enough explaining, I suppose. I think you get it.

"…Phillip?" questioned a deep voice.

I was stunned. "Phillip…?" No one ever called me by name anymore. I was just Pip. Even I had almost forgotten.

The figure shifted slightly, uncertain. "That is your name isn't it? Or have I got the wrong person?"

I hesitated before patting the spot next to me. "Yes. It's just that no one calls me by name. It's… different."

The young man sat down next to me. "Ah, yes. It's Pip, isn't it?"

I nodded and turned back to my book. It was futile to try and make out who he was. The sun seemed to always be in my vision when I turned to him.

He hummed thoughtfully. "It's quite hot out today, isn't it?"

I nodded. "I was going to ask you why on earth you were wearing all black on a day like today!"

He shrugged and I heard a rustle of fabric. "Ah, that's better. I've always found the temperature of the surface to be much more extreme than in hell. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Maybe it is. I haven't been there. Sorry." I say reflexively before I stop. "…Hell?"

A low chuckle sounds from next to me and I can finally look over. The prince of hell in all his shirtless glory is the one who happened to sit next to me.

"Damien." I greet simply, involuntarily bristling slightly.

His smirk fades to a frown. "Not happy to see me?"

I sigh softly. "I'm sorry. It's not easy to forget how we parted last."

Damien's tail twitches and he mumbles something, his crimson gaze darting away. It was weird talking to him as a demon.

"Hmm? Could you please repeat that?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Damien sighs exasperatedly. "I'msorry," he repeats and I've barely able to discern what he's said. But I get it, so I smile.

"Apology accepted."

"That easily?" he murmurs wondrously.

I nod and smile wider, invoking a small smile from my companion. For the rest of the day, we just hung out just like old friends would.

End Flash Back


Phillip's P.O.V.

(November 12th)

Or as much as we could, considering Damien's the Emo King. I giggle at the thought. That was a good day.

But I still wonder what happened to the old him. The 3rd grade Damien. The one with the mullet, squeaky voice and scrawny build. Ha-ha, he was like me, although I never had a mullet.

Between grades 4 and 8, he underwent a massive change. He lost the mullet, underwent puberty and bulked up into the dashing young man he is now. Although I suppose the reason why he looks so mature already is because of the demon blood flowing through his veins.

Although, even knowing this, I don't mind that he's a demon. He's a pretty good guy, and that's all that matters. You should only judge someone by their actions, not their background. All it took was that apology.

An indecent person would have avoided it, but he didn't. And for that, I am grateful.


Leopold's P.O.V.

(November 17th)

It's a Monday, and somehow everyone seems kind of happy. Normally not many people are happy on Mondays. I think it's a nice change!

"What're you guys thinking about?" I question my friends, who all seem deep in thought.

Pip smiles. "The past, Butters."

I smile back and nod appreciatively. "Thanks. What about the past? You don't seem to be talking about it together."

Christophe shrugs, a slight frown apparent on his features. "Different things. Things zat were good, things zat were bad, things zat we miss, things zat we wish we could experience again…"

"Or things we wish we could change." Damien continues for him.

"Oh, ok. I was just wondering because you all seemed happier today." I tell them honestly.

Pip looks down almost shyly. "Well, I was thinking of the day when Damien came back."

Christophe looks thoughtful. "I was remembering ze god times I 'ad with Gregory all throughout grades three to seven."

Damien raises an eyebrow. "I was wondering what it would be like if I had been born human."

Kenny breaks out of his trance. "I was thinking about something that happened about two months ago," the blonde mutters sadly.

Christophe's frown deepens. "What happened two months ago?"

Kenny flinches slightly then sighs defeated. I wonder what happened the same as everyone else. I place my hand on his shoulder in a comforting way and he starts to speak.

"Remember the day when I came back to school?" There's a slight pause before we all nod in agreement.

"Well you see… It was Eric." A growl or two is heard and I squeeze Kenny's shoulder. We all know about his friendship with Eric. It's hard not to. I still wonder how he could have done something like that to Kenny. I wonder a lot of things.

"Well, he came and found me at the park. IT was the day before I came back."

We all listened to his story in shock and awe. I even shed a few tears. It was such an emotional story.

A hesitation before he speaks again. "I still remember what he said. It sticks with me. 'I'm not trying to hurt you… I'm trying to stop hurting you. I miss you. I want my BFF back.'…"

My heart feels his pain at that moment. I know he would go back were he not afraid. He doesn't want to be let go of again. Not like that.

"Kenny," I whisper, "I know you want to go back, I can see it."

Kenny looks down. "I'm afraid."

"I know," I tell him, "So am I. We all hate seeing you like this."

Pip bites his bottom lip slightly. "Butters is right, Ken. We really do hate seeing you like this. But the only way you'll ever truly be happy again is if…"

A long silence sifts through the five of us. We know it's true, but we don't know what to say.

Kenny looks at the four of us wide-eyed. "Are you telling me to…?"

Christophe sighs. "We're not telling you to. Do it when you're ready, Kenny."

"And don't worry, if he tries anything I've got your back!" Damien pipes up good-naturedly. Although… I don't trust that smile.

"Thank you. I didn't know you all cared this much," Kenny tells us on the verge of tears. But they're the good kind. I can tell because he's got a huge grin plastered on his face. "I'll do it. I'll talk to Eric. For you guys."

And although we're all smiling, there's a feeling of dread. 'Did we do the right thing?'


Christophe's P.O.V.

(March 17th)

Months pass and eet's now Spring break. Kenny has still done nothing to rekindle some kind of friendship with ze Cartman kid. For his sake, we 'ave not mentioned eet.

What would we say, anyways? 'Bonjour, Kenny? Have you followed our advice and become friends with ze fat bastard yet? Oh? He fucked you over again so you decided not to tell us? We're sorry, we didn't know.'

Lunchtimes are now upbeat and positive. We talk about anything and everything involving happy. I swear Damien is suffocating, and I am close to eet.

Maybe things will go back to normal soon enough. I'm sick of being positive when I could possibly lose a friend soon. Kenny might leave us when he talks to ze fat one. We don't know. We can only guess.

But something unusual happened last week. Kyle walked up to Stanley, called him a bastard, punched him in ze face and zen walked away.

Stanley 'ad a broken nose and was sent to ze hospital.

Ze only thing I 'ad to say to zat was as follows: "What ze fuck crawled up his ass and died?"