Band Drama

Chapter Fourteen: Cult of the Supreme Being (Part II)

Kyle looked at the country of Spain in a state of amazement. It was a little after four thirty in the morning when his body had decided he didn't deserve anymore sleep, regardless of how little sleep he had been getting recently. He had been sitting in a window seat, reading and watching the world outside the window since. The hotel was silent and the halls were too dark to go out and do anything.

When the clock read 6:00AM, Kyle put down his language dictionary in frustration. He couldn't get the hang of the language with his mind as jumbled as it was at the moment. Running a hand through his hair, he went to his bag and retrieved his jacket. He put it on and pulled up the hood before heading out of the room. Just as it had been when he first tried to go out, it was silent and dark. He touched a hand to the wall to guide him along the way, his eyes on the floor in front of him that he could hardly see.

Maybe he would talk today, maybe he would read… But he knew they needed to practice. Christophe was supposed to be taking care of the concert times, and all Kyle could do was hope that the next one would be after a week's resting time. He was so tired… physically as well as mentally. He stopped at the end of the hallway to look once again at the band on his wrist. Even in the dark he could make out how odd they looked on him. The bruises had yet to heal, making the evidence of the assault brand him for the time being. He looked away, wishing them to heal faster. The longer they remained, the longer he was reminded of how insane Kenny had acted.

He knew he was kidding himself when he thought that after the wounds were healed, the evidence gone forever, everything would return to the way it was. Maybe Kenny's words weren't so crazy… Kyle shook his head and gripped his hair with both hands, tugging slightly. He hated thinking. But lately he hated it more than ever.

He took a moment to calm himself, to pull himself away from the thoughts of the incident once more, before he continued on his way. Once again, keeping one hand on the wall to guide him, eyes on floor in thoughts of not thinking, with his free hand making its way into his coat pocket. The hood suffocated him, always living away from the small group incognito. Always hiding any problems he had away from them, hoping not to stir a fight. Always trying to see the optimistic side since when he was pessimistic they had something to say about it. Now, Kenny ruined it. Ruined the guise everyone lived under by telling how he felt and why.

And with the kiss he told more than anything. More than Kyle wished to know.

Outside, Kyle sat on a bench, waiting for the world to spin faster, for time to pass quicker. When it didn't, he was strangely disappointed. He wanted to sit there for a few more hours, alone for once. No bus holding them hostage. No small lodgings, the world in front of him large and uncaring of any emotions from the people in it.

He laid down, hands in his pockets, staring at the sky. They had flown through that sky and he hadn't taken so much as a real glance out the window of the plane, too wrapped up in the drama to care. He was being so…out-of-it, and he knew it. He couldn't wait for someone to find him now, so that maybe they could bring him out of these confusing waves of feelings, but they wouldn't find him anytime soon. They would be asleep for a long time.

On these thoughts, Kyle felt his eyelids droop. Drowsiness finally hit him like the cool morning air. Not wanting to get up and wake his body from the peaceful feeling that swept over him, Kyle stayed outside and finally slept deeper than he had in days.

His breath felt ragged, eyes moving around wildly to see what was happening. Hands held him tightly, leaving marks on his skin. In front of him, he saw Stan, he wanted to call out to him but his air left him as an invisible hand closed around his mouth. He struggled to get away, he could hear his friend calling for him, asking him what happened, but he couldn't move.

Kyle awoke with a start, jumping forward to collide into Stan's forehead. "OW!" he and Stan shouted at the same time.

"Dude that hurt!" Stan stated stiffly, rubbing his head.

"How do you think I feel?" Kyle asked, rubbing his own head. The impact woke his body up completely. No left-over numbness to enjoy.

"Why did you do that?"

Kyle looked at him incredulously, "Do you think I tried to do that? I was asleep! Why were you in front of me, you know I jump up when someone surprises me!"

Stan frowned, "I thought that was only when you were awake…"

"Well, it's not!" Kyle told him, then, "What time is it?"

"'Round twelve," Stan replied, moving Kyle's legs to sit beside him.

Kyle looked at his friend in shock, "Really? I slept out here for hours…" he added as a second thought.

"We were wondering where you went… I thought maybe you and Christophe went somewhere…" Stan admitted.

"Christophe's gone again?" Kyle asked, "But he left for so long last time, are you sure he's not in the hotel?"

Stan nodded, "Me and Cartman looked everywhere, but he couldn't be found. We asked Kenny, but he was too consumed playing on 'Tophe's computer to help us." Stan rolled his eyes at the last bit.

Kyle pondered this, "Why was Kenny on Christophe's computer anyway? I thought he wasn't allowed."

Stan shrugged, "Beats me, he just said something about a new game he was wanting."

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows at this, but said nothing. Kenny was acting really strange. First those fights, now getting on Christophe's computer… Kyle shook his head, deciding to try not to think too much on it.

"Any news on the contest?" Kyle asked finally.

"Only that we have over a million participants." Stan said nonchalantly.

"A million? Geez, I didn't think that many would join." Kyle added in a mutter.

Stan snorted, "We sell more than a million CDs Kyle, why wouldn't we sell a million spots on our website?"

Kyle shrugged, "Didn't think about it… Hey, do you know how the person will be selected?"

"Some kind of gadget online, I think." Stan said, wondering the same thing. "But I'm not certain."

Kyle nodded. He wondered how much of an obsessed-fan the person that won would be. He prayed for someone not too fan-girlish, he couldn't stand how crazed those people were. He sighed mentally and looked to Stan, "So, you wanna talk?"

Stan caught his meaning immediately, "Yeah, I do. But I'm not sure if it's the talk you want."

Kyle looked at him in wonder, "What do ya mean?"

"I want to ask you what happened," Stan stated strongly, holding a hand up to stop Kyle from interrupting him, "I mean what really happened. I know what you said was a lie; you do it so often now… But it's time to fess-up; you need to tell me the truth for once. I'm still your best-friend, but you don't talk to me like you used to. And when it really matters, like it does now, you don't tell me what's really on your mind. It's maddening to see our friendship so off-track. If you really don't want to talk, I guess I'll understand, but it'll be hard for me to, since I tell you everything and you don't tell me anything as it is."

Kyle gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish's. He breathed for a moment, making a strangled sound in his throat. He wanted to tell Stan everything. From Cartman to Kenny to even the kiss from Christophe, but it was hard to do. Stan was right though, they needed to talk, badly. He hadn't given it much thought before, having too much going on to really think about the future. Now that it was brought up, he asked himself whether he should say anything. He knew it was wrong to withhold everything from his "super best friend" more than any of that.

"I…" Kyle began, searching for words to explain what he was thinking, feeling, something other than saying nothing. "I…I don't…"

"It's okay, I get it," Stan said.

"No, you don't, it's just…It's difficult to find words for everything…I don't even know where to start…" Kyle tried.

Stan furrowed his eyebrows, "The Kyle Broflovski, at a loss for words?" he asked indignantly, "I don't believe it! Get out a camera!"

Kyle half-smiled at him for trying to lighten the mood. But he knew what was next, "Well, um, I guess it started after our show before Rhode Island."

Stan blinked at him, "Wait, was it around that night that you came to our room at the hotel?"

Kyle nodded; "Yeah…" he bit his lip.

"I remember you being really freaked out about something when you came in, but no one told me why." Stan replied.

Kyle chewed on his lip, wondering how to explain the first incident. "Well, um, you know before that, when I went to the bus before everyone at the after-party?" Stan nodded, not interrupting with words so as to not to distract Kyle.

"Well, that night…" Kyle began. Once he started, he couldn't stop. He was glad Stan didn't interrupt and ask questions, he didn't think he would be able to finish what he started otherwise. He began with Christophe's drunken kiss. Then he went on to tell about Cartman in the bathroom, then in the hallway. He was vague enough so that he wasn't too embarrassed, but still told the main details. His face was on fire by the time he got to Kenny. He was about to tell Stan, when the words stopped again. He already couldn't look his friend in the eye, it was just as Kenny had said, "It's 'cause you're too weak to fight." His tale only made him realize how weak he acted and how weak he was physically, the word "weak" itself made his head pound in self-hatred, just as it always had. Compared to the sports-engaged Stan, he was muscle-less. The thought made him shiver. He got himself into the situations by being the stereotypical gay-kid, and now he was admitting how terrible he was in any situation… God, he felt like such a girl.

Stan waited for a moment, pondering over Kyle's earlier words from before. He would kill Cartman, he was sure of that. He hated fighting, but all of this had been happening right in front of him, he should have known. No wonder Kyle didn't talk much, if the situation with Cartman was bad, he couldn't know how bad the one with Kenny had been. Kyle had gone through the Christophe situation entirely too vague, but it was enough for him to know that his friend wasn't too against the Frenchman. It was Cartman he was against, because of the forcefulness. He knew Kyle hated being treated like a girl, and had beaten up Cartman in high school because of it, and now he seemed to be catching onto how girly everyone treats him… He pinched his nose in frustration, asking himself how he was going to kill Cartman and Kenny. For now he had to poke Kyle's side to get his attention. He seemed spaced-out.

"Dude?" he asked unsurely, "You okay?"

Kyle nodded his hand over his mouth. His face was a deep red and his eyes were glassy. "Kyle?" Kyle looked to Stan, raising his eyebrows in question. "What happened recently?"

Kyle shook his head, "K-Kenny just said some stuff and left." Kyle stated, as vague as the other incidents.

Stan sighed, he really didn't want to do this, "I mean, why're you wearing bands? You hate those things!"

Kyle's head snapped up at that, "I-I…"

Stan restrained from pinching his nose, "Kyle, I know it's difficult, but please, I need to know if he hurt you."

Kyle shook his head in response, looking away from his best friend's eyes. He really didn't want to tell the first incidents, but they were already out. This one was too close to home for him to tell in the same manner. It was about Kenny, a boy he considered a close friend. He didn't want to rat out his friend. Christophe had been hard to talk about too… Cartman was only hard to talk about 'cause of his being too weak to do anything. But this, it was something else entirely. Could he really tell about the blond whose perverseness provided so much relief for the stress of the life of the band? No. He couldn't. Kenny was just in a mood, something must have happened for him to act like he did. Everyone gets mad, right? He just wasn't to judge him for that. Besides, Kenny looked apologetic afterward, and he had fought with everyone, not just him. He shouldn't even be talking to Stan, for that matter, he should be talking to Kenny directly. He needed to know what the Hell was going on and take action for once.

He got up from the bench, much to Stan's surprise, "I like them now," he began, replying to Stan's question about the bands he wore. "In fact, I think I'm gonna get the manager to do a MOOP brand of them. We'll sell them at the next concert!" he said.

Stan raised his eyebrows, asking himself how the subject changed so quickly. Maybe Kyle was too tired of talking about what had happened over the past months that he couldn't bring himself to talk about anything else? Stan shook his head, telling himself that Kyle had already told him so much when he didn't have to. He nodded to Kyle, and just like that, they continued the conversation about the bands and wondering about the design.

Author's Note: To anyone that noticed the word "blond" spelled without an "e" on the end: Blond/Blonde comes from French. The French use "blonde" as a feminine form of the hair color, while "blond" as the masculine form. By those rules, I used "blond" since the hair was Kenny's-a male.