Oh hi! Happy (early) Halloween! What else could I do? It's Halloween, meaning it's time for a Halloween-themed chapter! So, as they're teenagers, that means only a few things: Drama, alcohol, and more drama!
So, I'll leave you to make up your own minds about where this is going (major hint here guys)
Enjoy!
- Amy xx

Halloween has always been my favourite holiday. Maybe it should be Hanukkah or Passover or some other stereotypically Jewish holiday, but it's always been Halloween. The thrill of becoming someone else, even for just a night, is an unmatchable feeling to me. It makes people laugh, the costumes I choose, because I don't go for the cliché superheroes, celebrities bore me, and there are enough monsters in my head to stop me making them my physical form. So I go for people I know, and stun them by portraying them perfectly.
00
October 31st, three years ago
Kyle was almost quivering with excitement and nerves. He knew full well that he'd probably put too much effort into his costume, but this year was different than all the others. Last year, he'd thought he'd given himself an easy task by choosing someone he didn't know that well, but he'd quickly found out that Craig actually still hated himself and his friends, and didn't appreciate being studied. So this year he'd chosen someone he knew better than he knew himself: Stan. Who had, unbelievably, been the most difficult person he could've chosen. Because he knew Stan. Knew his speech patterns. Knew his habits, his mannerisms. Kyle could pick the exact shade of Stan's eyes from a colour chart. And so he was determined to use all this knowledge, this Database of Stan, to create him, with none of the evil-scientist implications.
'Kyle bubbe, are you nearly ready? Your little friends are here to get you' his mother called from the lower floor. Looking in the mirror one last time, he nodded at the reflection staring back at him and slipped into an easy smile, just like he'd seen Stan do a thousand times before.
Their faces were priceless. Whilst their costumes were admittedly also very good, it was clear that Kyle had won any unspoken competition they'd had.
'Stan, why've you got changed? I know Harry Potter was a faggy costume bu-'
'Shut up Cartman, I'm right here'
Stan grew closer, removing his fake glasses, his face awe-struck. At this proximity, Kyle felt a thrill course through his veins as he confirmed to himself that he had, in fact, managed to get contacts in the exact same perfect shade as Stan's. That had been his main problem for weeks. Cutting and straightening his hair had been no bother, nor had wearing just enough fake tan. Getting his mother to give him permission to temporarily dye his hair black has been tricky, as had getting clothes that he knew Stan would wear. It was worth it though, to see the look on Stan's face.
'We...' Stan whispered 'We should get going, you know how pissy Clyde gets when people are really late'
'Yeah' Kyle replied, using vocal inflections he'd practiced during weeks of his Stan-study 'Let's go'.
00

October 31st, present year
'Bubbe, are you ready for your party?' his mother's voice had softened over time, there was no impatience, no undertones of snappiness
'Yeah' he called back 'Is Stan here yet?'
It had been Stan's idea to go to the party, Token's Halloween/Promise party, in a desperate attempt to get Kyle to leave the house and begin returning to normality. It had been an almost painfully slow progress. Kyle had reverted back into himself almost immediately after his outburst at Stan, only leaving his house when he had to, or when Stan dragged him to shops or to the coffee shop.
'He's here' there was a smile in her voice 'I think he's looking forward to seeing your costume'
Rather than replying, and without the habitual final glance in the mirror, he descended the stairs.

Stan was speechless. More shocked than he was three years ago, when he'd glanced up the staircase and seen himself coming down them. Kyle was... Kyle. But a different Kyle. His skin wasn't translucently pale, it was more like cream and roses, healthy and glowing. His hair once again hung in soft curls that framed his face, rather than the electrified dry frizz Stan had become accustomed to. Most impossibly however, was his body; He was no longer the living skeleton that must have escaped from Stan's nightmares. He was a healthy weight, with small but definite muscles pushing through the fabric of his long-sleeved t-shirt.
Kyle paused, gauging their reactions.
His mother had her hands on her face, silent tears streaking down her face. It had been difficult for Kyle to hide his costume from her, but he'd obviously managed it well enough.
Stan's face, however, was a mix of more emotions than Kyle had thought it possible to show. Happiness mixed with sadness, shock mixed with familiarity, a glitter of tears mixed with the beginning of a smile. Kyle didn't wait for either of them to regain the power of speech before he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on his mother's cheek, and nodded at Stan to follow him out of the door. He was beyond relieved to see Stan's crappy car idling in the driveway, as the alternative was walking to Token's in the snow, avoiding stilted conversations with his once-a-super-best-friend.

00
'KYLE, HAVE YOU TRIED THIS?' Stan roared over the din of the party, holding a bottle of dark purple liquid over his head, somehow managing to avoid spilling any of it
Kyle just rolled his eyes and shook his head, prompting Stan to stagger over to his seat and pour a generous amount into his diet coke before he could even begin to protest.
'Drink it! Tastes like summer'
'But dude, we're nearly in winter...'
'Just drink it Kyle, or I'll tell your mommy that you're not playing nice'
A scowl on his face Kyle chugged the drink, noticing that it did in fact taste like summer berries.
'There, was that so bad?'
'Stan, you're drunk' Kyle said flatly, crushing his cup in his hand absent-mindedly
'NO I'M NOT. I'm nowhere near DRUNK' Stan was clearly having problems controlling his volume, and this was strangely endearing to Kyle, whose head was already starting to feel different
'CAN WE GO upstairs? I want to talk to you PROPERLY, KYLE'
With a chuckle, Kyle allowed himself to be led through the throngs of people dancing drunkenly, up the sweeping flight of stairs, and into an empty room that was clearly a guest room.
'We're here, talk.' Kyle started, but he was interrupted by Stan pulling a small hipflask from his pocket, a devious glint in his eye
'Dare you' he half-slurred
Kyle just shook his head, feeling the hair he'd drowned in conditioner starting to frizz back to its original dry state
'Chicken! BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOOOOKKKKKKK!'
Shame rising in his face like an ugly blush, Kyle snatched the glinting silver from the other boy's hand and drank several mouthfuls of the strong-smelling liquid before stopping, throat burning, eyes streaming, and head swimming.
'You dick' his words slurred.
'I never said you HAD to do it, I just said you were a chicken for NOT doing it'
Angered at Stan's self-defence Kyle rubbed a hand down his face, smearing the carefully applied 'healthy-looking' makeup, and smacked Stan on the arm.
'OI, don't smack me' Stan slapped Kyle back.
Head still swimming, Kyle grabbed a handful of Stan's hair and pulled it childishly, to which Stan responded by shoving Kyle's chest, hard. Kyle fell back, landing on something soft and realising he was both on a double bed, and hadn't let go of Stan's hair. Meaning the noirette was sprawled on top of him, his face pressed into Kyle's collarbone. Stan's face lifted, his eyes wide, before leaning in slowly and pressing his lips unbearably softly against Kyle's own.