AN: Awesome reviews guys, thanks so much! XD I hope you all know you're on a high pedestal now ;)
Short Stories with Tragic Endings
Stan and Kyle
Stan
I shouldn't have left him. I shouldn't have left him with that drunk pervert Craig.
I'm currently sitting in our apartment, flipping open my cell phone every once in awhile as I check the time. It's already four in the morning and Kyle still isn't back. Maybe he's spending the night there. It's a possibility since I have a feeling I was one of very few sober people back there, and my friends, as dumb as they are, have the sense not drive when they can't even walk straight.
But still…I'm thinking maybe I should drive back; see if he's okay and not violated. This is why Craig almost always gets beaten up every year at his own party. He always tries to take advantage of a drunk friend. A drunk male friend, and he claims he's straight. Whatever.
I tap my foot impatiently on the floor before standing. I have to see if Kyle's okay. I'm the one that invited him in the first place.
Heading back into my car the drive back to Craig's is quiet. The roads are completely deserted which I prefer on a night like tonight. Parking, I close my door, listening to the echo and make my way up the porch stairs and to the house. I don't bother knocking and instead walk right in through the unlocked door.
The atmosphere has completely died down. The place is a little trashed, but nothing seems to be broken. Most people have fallen asleep on the furniture, the floor, wherever they can rest. A few are still awake talking in hushed voices smoking quietly. I walk over to them, seeing that Token is one of them.
He looks up at me as I approach.
"So you really did ditch him huh?" He asks as I stop beside him.
"Where is he?" I ask quietly, not wanting to wake anyone, though I doubt anything would really wake most of those around us.
Token eyes me critically. Almost as if he doesn't want to tell me where Kyle is.
"Where is he?" I ask again, this time with less patience and more force.
"Upstairs, Craig's room."
I tense, "Token if Craig did anyth-"
"Shut up," Token says icily. "Craig's stupid when he's drunk but he isn't an idiot. He wouldn't really do anything to Kyle, you know that. Why are you acting so protective anyway? The way Kyle talked about you made it seem like you don't give a fuck what happens to him."
"He's not my favorite person," I admit. "But I wouldn't sit back and let shit happen to him either. I'm not a cold hearted bastard."
Token shakes his head looking off in the darkness for a second, "ever since Kenny died," he pauses. "Dude, I just don't know about you anymore."
Token and I glare at each other for a moment before I turn and start to carefully make my way toward the stairs, avoiding stepping on a few people.
"Happy New Year," he mutters to me.
"Happy New Year Token," I state back calmly and start climbing up the stairs to Craig's room. I enter without knocking and see some eight people sprawled out on the floor and about four more squeezed on his bed. Kyle's in the very middle of them. As I think about how to go about getting him up without waking anyone else a noise catches my attention and I turn realizing that there's a figure awake in Craig's chair looking at me.
"I figured you'd come back for him," Craig says spinning listlessly in his desk chair.
"Yeah," I snort. "Help me wake him up."
"Nah, let him sleep, it was a crazy night."
I resist rolling my eyes, and resist mentioning what he did, again. "And how do you suggest we get him and not wake him up?"
"Just push James aside, he's a heavy sleeper, he won't even notice," Craig says slowly standing and walking over to his bed to do just that. I lean over beside him and gently try to pull Kyle up, but regardless that his body looks lean he still has muscle and he's still pretty damn heavy.
"Fucking hell," I mutter. "Help me out here will you?" I hiss at Craig and he drops James to the side to help me pull Kyle from between him and some girl I don't recognize. I heft Kyle into my arms and turn and hand him over to Craig so that I can move James back in place.
Once I've stepped over a few people I hold out my arms to accept Kyle again, and Craig hands him over, stepping over a few last people before he reaches out his hands to take Kyle. We keep doing this, handing Kyle back and forth between us until we reach outside his door, not having woken up a single person, Kyle included.
Taking him back finally, I walk carefully down the stairs, trying to look over Kyle's hair to mind the steps. It seems to be getting curly…
Once I've reached the bottom I grunt, as I readjust my hold on him and I see Token approach me and Craig from whoever he was talking to. Once outside they help me put Kyle in my car before backing out themselves.
"Thanks guys," I say nodding to them.
"Sure thing," Craig grins. "It was a fun night, as usual."
"Fun for who?" I mutter and Token chuckles quietly.
"Hey, whatever happened to you going over to kick Stan's ass by the way?" Craig asks. I turn to Token confused.
He laughs and rubs the back of his thick curly hair. "I got halfway there when I met up with Ferrari, beating him to a pulp didn't seem quite so important then."
I raise an eyebrow at him, "why exactly was I going to get an ass beating?"
"For being a shit to Kyle," Token says harshly, glaring at me.
I cast a glance at the redhead in question who's still fast asleep in the passenger's seat.
"Would it kill you to be nice to him? He was bad mouthing you a fair portion of the night," Craig says seriously, causing me to turn my head to look at him frowning.
"It's not about being nice or not being nice to him-"
"Yeah it is," they both cut me off.
I sigh, "I can't let it go you guys. What he did, up and leaving me…he hasn't even apologized for it, and some days he's just so much like Kenny…I just…" I sigh again, not being able to complete my sentence the way I want to.
"You just want to punish him," Token finishes for me. "You want him to hurt as much as you can, like he made you hurt."
Maybe, maybe that's exactly what I want to do.
"But then when do you decide when he's been punished enough? After eleven more years of your retribution?" He continues and I look at his passive face, and his folded arms. I glance over at Craig but he's looking in at Kyle who's stirring slightly before falling still.
"I made him eat something before he fell asleep," Craig speaks up not giving me the chance to answer Token's question, even though I had no intention on doing so, since I don't know the answer. "So he'll be fine come morning, no hangovers."
Craig suddenly yawns and stretches his arms grinning, "okay, time to head back in and get some sleep. I gotta clear people out before my folks get home tomorrow afternoon. You coming by to help clean up?" He asks me and I snort, walking into my car.
"No," I tell him firmly and shut the door and rolling down my windows.
"What?" He questions annoyed.
"I'm not the one who helped trash it," I say as an excuse. "I'll see you guys when I see you," I say to them, starting my engine.
Token gives me a look, but he nods and Craig frowns but waves me off. When Kyle and I get back to the apartment I unbuckle him and pick him up as best as I can from the seat. I have half a mind to just shove him awake and make him walk. It's his own fault for being passed out like this. But going against what I want to do I leave him be and heave him into my arms, kicking my car door shut with my foot.
I take a few unsteady paces before readjusting Kyle to fit a little better in my arms before feeling confident enough to walk up a set of stairs with him. Taking one step at a time I sigh in relief when I'm at the top. Managing somehow to put my keys in the door I bend down slightly to turn the knob and push open the door with my foot. Kicking it shut like I did with my car door I make my way blindly to Kyle's room, almost knocking into something.
It must have been the stupid vase.
Kyle's bedroom door is open, thank God, and I walk in dropping him on the bed, releasing a few deep breaths. His head lolls to the side and he mutters something in his sleep before becoming quiet again. The only thing I do is take off his shoes, he can sleep in his clothes for all I care, and remove his cell and keys from his jacket pocket, placing them on his dresser.
Pulling his comforter over his body I stop when I'm close enough to Kyle's sleeping face.
I've just noticed something. I'm tucking him in.
It sounds…weird to put those terms to it. I can't remember the last time I tucked anyone in. I never even tucked in Kenny after he got piss drunk. He'd always swat my hands away in drunken annoyance, claiming he could do it himself just fine, even though he couldn't.
You just want to punish him.
Token's words ring in my head.
Your own personal dart board.
Mr. Zanadaci's ring beside his.
They've both figured out something I hadn't consciously realized. Yeah. I'm punishing Kyle, yeah he is my personal dart board. I do blame him for leaving, I hate that he did. I hate that he didn't show up to Kenny's funeral or the burial service, I'm pissed as fuck that I have to be here with him and do this agreement with him.
But then when do you decide when he's been punished enough? After eleven more years of your retribution?
I watch Kyle's sleeping face, placing a hand over his mouth and nose to assure myself that he's breathing.
11 years of my retribution? It's trivial, and I might burn in hell for not being able to forgive but 11 years of punishment for Kyle seems perfectly fine to me….maybe I'm exaggerating just a little.
Pulling the comforter further up to Kyle so it's up to his chin I study him with impassive eyes. He may have comforted me on Christmas, and I may have liked what I felt, but it doesn't replace all my past feelings. I never told Kenny, and I often wondered if he knew anyway. But even when I was at my most happiest with him, even when we couldn't have been closer as friends, I couldn't help thinking about the 'what if'.
What if Kyle was here? I always thought as we did something. What would Kyle say? What's Kyle doing right now? It's always been like a broken record for me.
I stand and shake my head. It isn't healthy for me to dwell on what might've been. In exchange for Kyle's friendship I gained Kenny…but still, what would it have been like to have them both? That's something I won't ever get to know.
Retreating out of his room, I slowly start to close the door, but I stop just as it's only an inch or so opened. "I don't think I can forgive you," I mutter to his sleeping frame and close the door soundly, heading for my own bedroom to get some much needed rest.
Kyle
"I don't think I can forgive you," he says to me, thinking I'm still asleep and leaving my room.
I woke up slightly when I realized I was in my own bed, but I didn't feel the need to fully wake up. I was vaguely aware that I was no longer at Craig's and that I wasn't surrounded by a massive amount of body heat, but I wasn't entirely sure how I got to my own room before I felt Stan pull my covers over me.
How did he get me here?
That I don't remember, but as he leaves I open my eyes and stare at my door.
Why can't he let the past go? Why does he insist on not letting it go? Things won't get better between us if he doesn't. We've come so far, and to hear him say that? I wish I hadn't woken up.
I turn and readjust myself in my bed, I'm uncomfortable and its when I notice I'm still in my clothes. I'm uncomfortable but I can't fathom moving from my current position.
I try to go back to sleep, but I can't. What he said just keeps replaying over and over in my head. He thought I was asleep when he said that but I wasn't. How can I face him tomorrow knowing that he truly has no intention on making things better between us? No intention what so ever. I can make him talk as much as I want, pry into his life with questions, I can smile and laugh and try to act like maybe we'll be close one day but…
I have to work tomorrow; I have to get some sleep…
-
…I reach over slowly to turn off my alarm. I didn't sleep at all. Not a wink. Sitting up I run a hand through my hair, a little alarmed when it gets caught in snags and curls. It's supposed to be straight. I sigh, cursing this goddamn mountain air. Climbing out of bed I grab the clothes I plan to wear today and head into the bathroom to get ready. Once I head for the kitchen to get something to eat I stare at the note from Stan.
Didn't have that much time to make anything extravagant. Breakfast is waffles from scratch, lunch is a few chicken salad sandwiches and dinner is a tortellini dish. Directions are below. Craig said you wouldn't have a hangover, but call if you need anything.
It goes to list the directions for everything and I read them tiredly before opening the fridge and looking at the plate of waffles.
How can he continuously make meals for someone he has such a grudge against? I don't get it. I take the plate of waffles and watch as I dump them into the trash can. Instead I reach through the cupboards, I know I bought cereal, even if a month later I still haven't seen any traces of it.
A few minutes later I come back out of the deeper cupboard with three boxes. Choosing one I pour a bowl adding milk and sit quietly, as is usual with me, to eat. I read the back of the box for slight entertainment until I've finished draining the bowl. Washing up and making sure I've got everything I need, I grab the lunch Stan made me along with everything else and head out for work.
"Hey Kyle!" Chef greets me as I walk in through the back.
"Morning Chef," I say back and place my stuff in my locker.
"How was your New Years? You don't look hung over."
"Yeah, I'm not sure how that is. I know I had plenty to drink."
"Where did you go?" He asks as he starts to look over some paperwork.
"I went to Craig's party."
"Craig'sparty? And you're alive?" Chef chuckles as he puts on his apron.
"Yeah," I snort. "Even you know he has a little habit of hitting on people when he's drunk?"
"Oh yeah, I hear you children complain about it a lot, but aside from that he's a good guy. I didn't know you children were still friends. You never mentioned it."
Putting on my own apron, I punch in and head for the front of the restaurant, "actually I just got reacquainted with him last night. Him and everyone else actually…and give or take a few things I had fun yesterday."
"Good," Chef pauses in what he's doing to look up and grin at me. "You ready to work? We should start off making a continuous amount of coffee," he says cheerfully and I nod in agreement. We're sure to have a lot of people, more than usual, who need it after last night.
The place gets busy soon enough, and not surprising, the thing I serve the most is coffee, as both Chef and I expected. During the lunch hour rush the girls come by and I grace them with small smiles.
"Happy New Year ladies," I say to them, smiling tiredly as Porscha pulls me down next to her.
"You too cutie, we didn't see you at Craig's party," she says as I begin writing down their usual order.
"I was there," I tell her honestly. "But I didn't see any of you either."
"I was mostly upstairs," Lexus says giggling.
"Oh, me too, actually," Porscha says as an afterthought. I look to Mercedes who shakes her head.
"I was on the first floor, but there were so many people I'm not surprised I didn't see you sweetie. Shame, it would have been fun to see you outside of Cherry Kiss." I nod in agreement. "So did you have fun Red?" She continues to ask me.
"Yeah, I met a lot of my old friends. I hung mostly with Token and Craig."
"Oooh," Porscha says to herself. "That Token has grown up so much, he's so hot."
"Definitely," Lexus agrees with a firm nod. "And he's really gentle too."
I raise my eyebrow at her, "what do you mean gentle?" I ask knowing full well. Lexus reddens and shoves me playfully.
"You know what I mean cutie, and aren't you supposed to be working?" She giggles.
"Right," I smile, "I'll be back with your orders then."
"Take your time darling," Mercedes purrs as I walk away.
Once the girls have left I fall back into my usual return of nursing a few hangovers with the blackest coffee Chef can pump out. Come my lunch break I pull out the sandwiches Stan made me. They smell heavenly, but they make my stomach knot and I toss them in the garbage, deciding to eat something from the Kiss menu.
Getting back home to the ever empty apartment I open the fridge with a sigh and glance at the tortellini and the directions. It seems like way too much work, and the note does mention that whatever sauce Stan used on them is only good for 12 hours. Tossing that in the garbage I settle on another peanut butter and jam sandwich. Not gourmet, and definitely not as good as what Stan made me, but it fills me up and that's all that matters.
I decide to take out my notebook and work some on my online classes. I'm still in the middle of typing up a paper when Stan walks in later. Not bothering to look over at him I continue typing, trying to keep my focus on the paper about business theory.
"You didn't eat the tortellini?" Comes Stan's surprised voice after a few minutes of him rustling about in the kitchen.
I stop typing and look firmly at the screen. "The sauce was past the time frame you said I could eat it at."
"Oh," he responds and I go back to typing. I hear a few more sounds of rustling and of the microwave going on. After awhile Stan walks past me heading for his bedroom with a plate of something I don't catch. "Night," he says already closing his door.
"Night," I mutter back.
I haven't seen him all day, and that's the best we could manage to say to each other. No mention of last night, nothing of the kiss Craig landed on me, no mention of how I got home, the state I was in or what he dared to say to me.
The next few days are no better. It's like the time we weren't talking or looking at each other. I don't know if Stan even realizes anything has changed. He's home so little because of the impending meeting with Zanadaci and private investors, and with classes starting again. If I didn't stay up at night to see him walk in from Bebe's I probably wouldn't see him for days straight.
Mr. Zanadaci swings by from his office another time but when he does Stan isn't home. I tell him of my roommates new hours and he resolves to stop by his brother's place to check on him. He asks his usual questions, and I give honest answers. He doesn't seem happy to hear them, and the advice he gives me falls short, as there is nothing more I can do, or want to do. What I don't tell him is of what I heard Stan say to me when he thought I was sleeping. That he didn't think he could ever forgive me, no, that…I keep to myself.
The few times Stan randomly comes home early enough not to want to go straight to bed, we end up fighting. Bitter fights that have no resolve, and usually have no meaning for getting started. Our most recent one is now. We're three weeks into the new year and he's just now realizing I've stopped eating the food he makes me.
"Why didn't you just tell me instead of making me waste my fucking time!"
"When the fuck would I tell you, when you're at school, at work, at Bebe's?!" I yell back.
"You could leave a note, like all the ones I leave for you!"
"Unlike you, I like to look at a person when I have something to say to them!"
Stan glares at me and yanks open the fridge, "we've been wasting food for no damn reason!" He mutters more to himself, but obviously I can hear him.
I slump annoyed on the lounge chair. "What are you even doing back so early?" I ask after a long tense pause. "Shouldn't you be anywhere but here?"
"Bebe's at her mother's, they're having some mother daughter talk or something. I don't fucking know," he mutters. "So that means I have to cook something. If you hadn't thrown it out what I made you we could have shared that."
"Don't bring up the goddamn food again!" I almost yell dangerously at him.
"How could I not, it really pisses me off that you did that!"
"Everything I do pisses you off!" I shout at the top of my lungs looking over at him angrily.
That's right…everything, every single thing I do annoys him, irritates him…the feeling is practically mutual.
Stan
I glare at him back. I have every right to be pissed at him, especially now. All that time I thought I was saving him from starving to death…
I'm tense as I take out the pots I need to make a fast dinner. The faster we eat, the faster we can leave each other alone. Not caring much to impress Kyle I've only fixed a basic spaghetti and a nothing special Cesar salad. The air is still very tense, and I'm still very pissed as hell. I can tell he is too. As he sets out the plates and utensils as I add the final touches to the dishes and set them on the table without a word. Sitting down on our normal chairs we both make a move for the spaghetti, and as if slapped we both halt in our advances.
I advance again and Kyle's sharp voice cuts me off, "don't you think I should have some first?"
"Why, I made it," I snap back at him.
"Exactly, I thought the cook was always the last one to eat his food."
"I've never heard such a thing."
"Well it isn't my fault if you haven't heard of common knowledge and manners," he scowls here and watches as I take a big helping of the spaghetti. "Guess I can't expect much from someone raised in such a hick town."
I dropped the spaghetti forcefully on my plate to glare at him, "you live here too!" I growl at him.
"Temporarily!" He seethes back at me.
"You lived here when you were little and you never had a problem with this hick town!"
Kyle snorted back a fake laugh, "of course I did. Look who and what I had to deal with everyday! Your bitch sister, Cartman, and the rest of these god forsaken shit people! Of course I hated it! Why do you think I put up next to no resistance in moving to California!"
Even he seems to realize he's gone too far. He has the decency to look at his plate somewhat guilty but my hands are already balling into fists as I try to keep my cool.
"No one is asking for you to stay here," I say calmly, but it probably sounds more like what it is, repressed anger.
Kyle pauses for a minute, looking at his plate. Something in my stomach lurches when he looks back up at me. "You're doing this on purpose," he starts quietly. "You're trying to make me hate you on purpose!" His voice ends in a near yell as he shoves his chair back to glower at me.
Scooting my own chair back I calmly pick up my plate and dump its contents in the garbage, before dropping my dish in the sink and make my way to my room. I don't want to talk to him anymore tonight.
Before I walk into my bedroom I turn to look back at him, I need to at least correct him. "Well, you can't possibly like me; you must hate me by now." I raise an eyebrow at him curiously ready to head for my room when I'm jerked by the arm as he grabs my wrist. I'm about to open my mouth in protest when Kyle suddenly slams my body into the wall, knocking my head.
A flash of black cuts across my vision before it comes back, my eyes instantly falling upon Kyle's. They're surging with an anger and that I have never seen in his eyes.
"No I don't!" He yells, again slamming me harder into the wall. "Stop acting the pathetic whiny asshole. You say you don't want it, but you need people to feel sorry for you, and frankly I'm fucking sick of it. Kenny died, okay, I know! You're sad, that's understandable, but there's no reason to go sulking around like nothing else matters."
I blink hard at him, "not much else does matter."
"Do you want me to fucking snap your neck?!" He pulls me away from the wall and shakes my body violently. I'm trying to think of why I'm not fighting back. "I'm tired of you walking around like a fucking zombie, and then suddenly getting pissed for no reason, I'm tired of all the confusing and whirlwind emotions! You're being a needy selfish shit! Anytime I try to help you out, you shove me away saying you don't need me. And you don't want to forgive me, isn't that right? Isn't that what you said to me when you thought I was asleep? Well guess what you stupid fucker? You don't have too because I'm out of here!"
Kyle stops and glances to the side to take in deep angry inhales before finally looking back up at me. The slight embarrassment at the thought that he heard what I had said New Years night and my anger dissipate as I see the realization and finality on his face. "Someone did ask me to stay here," he says suddenly referring to Kenny. "But I don't even think he'd want us to be like this. We're not happy, we're at each others throats night and day when we're actually around each other. Stan, we're not helping one another, I'm not helping you…I just slammed you into a fucking wall…we can't do this anymore, I can't do this anymore. Clearly we're going bat shit insane being together."
I pause reflecting on that, "…you're the one banging my skull into a wall trying to kill me."
Kyle gives me a pained look, "this living situation is over."
"W-what?"
"Don't act so surprised...I'm sick of being ignored and left behind, and snapped at, and-and…you must really miss Bebe and must want the wedding to resume as planned."
"Please…" I start slowly, "Do not suggest that again."
Kyle sighs releasing me from his grasp and walking over to the couch slumping on it, "look…" he halts briefly. "We tried, but goddamn we failed…hard. Kenny can't have asked for more than that. We're too different and too hostile. You can't tell me you want to live like this for another two and half months? It'd be pure fucking hell."
My breath quickens and I rub the back of my head slightly. Walking tentatively toward Kyle I release a shaky sigh and slump beside him. He looks over tiredly, and I wrap my arms around myself, taking in what he's suggesting, "but the agreement," I begin.
Kyle frowns at me, "do you want the money that bad?"
"It isn't about the fucking money!" I almost shout appalled. "I'm not gold digging! I never agreed to do this for the money, I'm doing it because Kenny asked me and because I want his personal belongings! Did you forget that I can't have those either unless we fulfill the agreement?"
"I'm sure if you talked with Mr. Zanadaci-"
"No," I cut him off. "It's a part of the agreement and Kenny would never allow a loop hole. If we don't do this, we get nothing, I get nothing."
"What could Kenny have that you want so much?!" Kyle asks me exasperated.
"Pictures! Letters! Journals, any other shit that could remind me of my best friend. He kept most of the things we gathered together over the years, and I want them!"
"I'm sorry, and I understand Stan, but we don't even like each other! Look at us now, we're fighting, which is no surprise to either of us! I can't stand living like this! And I'm not like you where I at least have other good friends I can turn to! You're my only real male friend here in South Park and we're not even friends! We're just two guys in a fucked up situation in where we're stuck together! I want to go home; I don't want to do this anymore!"
I look away from him a feeling of defeat on my face as I look around at the apartment, hoping some answer to get Kyle to change his mind will pop up. He can't really be serious…but he sure seems it. I mean he slammed me and my head into a wall for Christ's sake! I know we haven't been getting along, I know I haven't let him in or invited him to have dinner with Bebe and I, and I realize that my behavior is partly due to my want of punishing him, but I never imagined on breaking the agreement. I can't do that! I thought that if anything he'd at least want to stick this out with me till the very end.
"Well I still do!" I say turning back to him. "Before Kenny died he told me to promise him two things. To not cry over his funeral, which I did, and to bring you to it, which I didn't! I broke both those promises; don't make me break this one!"
Kyle looks slightly taken aback. "You promised him you'd get me to his funeral?"
"Yes!"
"…you didn't break that promise Stan. You did get me to come; I just didn't show up in time."
"It doesn't matter; to me, I still failed him."
"Well you didn't okay?" Kyle shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but no."
This isn't the time to be getting angrier but I can't help but remind him that he had said that he wanted to do this for Kenny. "Do you remember when you said that?! You said you wanted to do this for him, you promised him when you signed the agreement! I even asked you that night of his funeral when you stayed the night, if you really wanted to do this and you said you did, for his sake!"
"I know! I know what I've said and I know what I'm doing! Do you think I'm happy at the idea of leaving things like this, leaving us like this?! But it's just a fact, this," he moves his hand back and forth between himself and me, "is how we act, and I hate acting like this, I hate fighting, and I hate most of all...is being ignored and looked down on. I'm going and you can't change my mind...I'm sorry I really am," he whispers and stands from the couch, picking up his jacket and putting on his shoes.
I'm losing this, how the fuck can I be losing this? I decide to make another attempt. "Kyle, okay so you're not happy living with me and I'm not happy living with you…but are you unhappy?"
His eyes glaze over slightly and they don't seem to want to meet my eyes, eventually he does and I sigh disappointed. "Yes, I am." With that he stands and leaves the apartment, locking it behind him.
I look frozen at the spot Kyle just occupied. He's unhappy? I make him unhappy?
I mean I know I piss him off and that I frustrate him but…I didn't know that he really felt this heavily about it. I run a tight hand through my hair, yanking out a few strands, but the pain of it doesn't even bother me.
When the fuck did things turn for the worse like this? Hadn't we only just been arguing over the fact that he hasn't been eating my food lately? When did it change from that to Kyle wanting to break the agreement?! Aggravated I push up from the couch, my eyes landing on the one thing I've never liked. Kyle's never even liked it, but there it is, still taking space, oddly meant to be a compromise. Some fucking compromise. I walk over to the vase looking at it as it gleams, catching a strand of the ceiling light. "You're such a hypocritical asshole," I say quietly reaching up and knocking it over, stepping away from it just in time as it crashes to the ground.
Studying the broken shattered pieces that have fallen everywhere something occurs to me and I roll my eyes annoyed with my idiocy. We didn't buy that vase, it's just a rental.
A knock on the front door jerks me from my thoughts and I make my way carefully to the door, avoiding the shards of the vase to look through the peep hole. Mr. Zanadaci. I open the door stare and at Kenny's lawyer.
"Hey Mr. Zanadaci."
"Good evening Stan, you don't sound well. Is everything okay?"
"Not really," I say to him, opening the door further for him and gesturing to the broken vase with my head. "I broke the vase," I add. "Did you want some dinner? There's extra."
"No…thank you, are you alright? You didn't cut yourself?"
"I'm fine," I shrug wondering why he still won't enter the apartment.
"I didn't want to interrupt you and Kyle from eating-"
I cut him off, "you haven't, as you can see Kyle is nowhere in sight, he left."
Zanadaci doesn't look surprised, "you two have been fighting again then?"
I gesture for him enter but he stays standing where he is outside the door.
"Yeah, over the usual pointless crap," I tell him quietly.
"But you sound different this time around."
"Kyle wants to break the agreement," I can't hide my dejection.
"He does?" Mr. Zanadaci sounds extremely appalled, but I nod. He turns to look behind him and it's when I realize Kyle was standing off to the side. I hadn't noticed him there.
"You didn't mention that," he says to him before turning back to me. "Kyle and I ran into each other as he was leaving and as I was coming up, rather convenient don't you think?"
I shrug indifference and Mr. Zanadaci finally walks inside followed closely by Kyle who ignores me. As I close the door and step over the broken vase I lean into the comfortable lounge chair. Zanadaci stands as does Kyle to stare at the mess.
"Are you an idiot?" Kyle mumbles as he looks at the black shards. "We didn't buy that thing you know."
"I realized that after I broke it."
"After…" Kyle mutters before his head snaps back up at me. "You broke it on purpose!?"
"Boys," Mr. Zanadaci says warningly, much like a parent, cutting into our conversation. "Before there's any more talk let's clean up this mess shall we? I wouldn't like for anyone to get cut on accident."
Gathering the cleaning supplies we all silently pick up the bigger pieces of the vase and then finally vacuum the smaller bits, tossing it all into the garbage can when we're done. Zanadaci takes a seat on one of the dining chairs, after bringing it into the living room, Kyle takes the lounge chair and I sprawl on the couch. The coffee table is separating us and I'm not sure about him, but I'm doing everything to look at everything but him, but it's hard.
"Now then," the lawyer begins. "Kyle, you truly want to break the agreement?"
Kyle nods.
"Why?"
"…it's…it's not working out Mr. Zanadaci. We fight constantly and I'm just not happy. I haven't got any good friends or family here and with the way things are being held against me…well, things get a little lonely that way you know?"
He nods, and I look at Kyle who keeps his eyes on the older man. "And Stan do you want to break the agreement as well?"
"No."
"Why not, you're not happy either are you? I can tell."
"I'm doing what Kenny asked of me, I want his personal belongings and even though I'm not happy or pleased with how things are going," I turn to Kyle who is looking at me. "I'm not exactly unhappy, and Kyle I didn't realize you were."
He rubs what is most likely a non-existent itch on his shoulder. I continue to look at Kyle but from the corner of my eye I can see that Mr. Z is looking back and forth at us. He stops when it seems he's come to an inner solution.
"Hmm," he says as he stands. "Kenny did not anticipate this, though…I did. And as I have his permission to take care of things he may have forgotten or overlooked I…will begin the paperwork to dissolve the agreement and go about finding a home for his assets other than the government. It'll probably take about a week and after that you're both free to go where you please."
"But Kenny's stuff!" I say protesting to him. How can everything we've done be so easy to dissolve?
"I'm sorry Stan, the agreement left no ambiguity. Without the four and a half months neither of you get a thing, not Kenny's personal belongings nor the funds. I truly am sorry…I should be getting home. I only came to check on you boys as usual, I'll contact you when I have things set up for the dissolve." He glances at the stand where the vase usually is and sighs, "have a good evening boys, try to be civil for one last week."
"Night Mr. Zanadaci," we both mutter together. I listen as he leaves the apartment without another word.
Neither Kyle nor I move from our spots across from each other and a lingering silence shifts between us. I should be furious at him, at what he's making me do, but I can't be. Because, really…where we are…is mostly my own fault.
I don't even like admitting it to myself but…Kyle's tried, he really has. He was always around for me I needed him but I only pushed him away. Saying I didn't need or want him. And then I would run off to one of my many friends, or to Bebe, leaving him alone. I haven't even attempted to make him feel welcome here. Besides Chef, he hasn't really re- befriended any of our old friends. I've talked to Craig, and Token and some of the other guys. They haven't seen Kyle since New Years. He gets up, goes to work and comes home. He does nothing else. I am the only one he really knows and I have been ignoring him and treating him like shit. Of course he's unhappy, and now he's leaving me because of it.
And the strange thing is…I don't want him to go. And it isn't because of Kenny or the agreement its because now that he's reentered my life I can't really see it without him, even if all we do is fight. The regular fights have become a part of my life and I don't particularly want to change that.
Kyle suddenly stands, "goodnight," he says to me stiffly and walks back to his room before I can say anything in response.
This is no good, this isn't what I want, and I know I'm being selfish just like he said I am, but I'm not going to allow Kyle to abandon me for a second time. I realize my whole intention has been to punish him for what he did to me in the past and now that it's come to this I have no idea what to do.
I just know I don't want him to leave. He can do anything else but that.
AN: Okay. Take a deep breath…good? Okay then. Chapter 22 will be out shortly. Promise, it's already written actually, so you don't have to wait in agony. Maybe…Saturday? Saturday it is. Oh, and I know I promised to update yesterday (I must seem like a flake), but I was going too! I have a good excuse and you're going to listen to it. :) FF wouldn't let me log in, go forth and beat them with fangirl sticks!…you ah /shifts eyes around/ didn't hear that from me.
-FG