"You're a disgrace,"

Kyle's eyes were wide in horror, "I'm sorry, I-I didn't ask for this, I didn't want this,"

Professor Avinash scowled, "We could never represent you, Mr. Broflovski, we don't want you tarnishing these names we've worked so hard to establish,"

"We are good people, Mr. Broflovski," Professor Briggs began, "We're good church-going people, Mr. Broflovski. You don't belong here. We cannot allow you to carry our reputations,"

"I can carry your reputations, I swear!"

Professor Boyd shook his head, "You would tarnish them. This is a place of learned, straight men. And you're just a child,"

"A confused child," Professor Lambert interjected.

"I-I'm not confused! I'm not anymore, I'm straight, I'm smart!"

"Smart, sure," Professor Moreno replied, "But you're as twisted as a wormhole in the deepest singularity in the universe, boy,"

"But, Professor, I know I can do this, I can stop being this way!"

Professor Doyle sneered, "This is a pitiful attempt to woe us. What if you get involved with another man? What will it make us look like? Fools. The world, especially the state of Colorado, isn't ready for a University Professor who's got the gal to proclaim he's a prodigy, a teenager who would sacrifice his good and sense to feed his vice. You're disgusting,"

Kyle turned around and Bernadette was being fired; had she ever looked so sad before…

"I'm sorry, he was such a mistake. If I had known sooner, I would never have let him believe he could grow in this department. I didn't know he was such a person, you know I'd never risk all the distinguished people of this office with something as futile as bringing in someone like him,"

His eyes saddened, "Bernadette…?"

"Oh, Abraham, had I known my only son would grow up to be such a disaster, I would have put him in therapy early, I would have hidden him from all the evil and sin he's found himself wrapped up in!" His mother cried.

She was being comforted by his father as his father added, "Therapy? Hiding? Never! Had I known earlier, Kyle, I never would have let you in this family. If we knew earlier, we would have disowned him! I could never let you poison this family,"

"You do know why the gays are the work of the devil, don't you?" Ike's pre-teen voice rang out.

Kyle turned around to see his ten year-old brother looking at him strangely and walking towards him like a snake, sharp but smooth and terrifying, "It's because the Bible says that the devil is gay! He's gay so that he'll never have children, so that he'll never have a family. That way he'll never know love. That's why gays are demons, they're just monsters with a disease that spreads like wildfire, destroying families. Just like ours. You're the monster that destroyed our family, Kyle,"

"No!" Kyle cried, his eyes watering, "No, Ike, Mom, Dad…please, I didn't—I don't, I'm not—"

"A faggot?"

Kyle turned around again, black all around except for a light singularly on Stanley Marsh; his life-long friend.

"…Stan…"

His only love.

"You're gonna deny it? You can't you know. You can't hide what you really are. You're just disgusting. You're constantly jealous and clingy, you're weak and a know-it-all. You've got no place in South Park, no place in this country---in this world. You're just disgusting,"

Kyle was finding his knees weak, his voice was hard to form into any words and his heart was breaking into a million pieces,

"You promised, Stan…you promised you wouldn't tell…"

Wendy was suddenly around him, Kenny and his girlfriends too. Their arms were entangled around Stan's body, their eyes all black and smiles stretching too far around their faces; they looked evil. Stan's baby-blue stare suddenly became ebony, no white to be found, just like the cloned villains around him,

"Promise? You're such an idiot, Kyle," His neck stretched forward, his serpentine face now in front of Kyle's, his mouth a crescent with sharp, pointed teeth, "Empty words, words that mean nothing. You're a fool, Kyle. You're what we all know you are; a monster, a disaster, a disgust, a demon, a faggot, Kyle. You can be smart and all, all you like, but in the end, you're still just a faggot. You're a faggot, Kyle and now that everyone knows the truth, they'll look at you the way you're supposed to be viewed. You're a butt-fucking, sausage-loving princess, just a faggot. Always have been, always will be,"

The girls were giggling and Kenny muttered something about how funny it was that Kyle ever believed they were friends. Suddenly Eric was in front of him, a wind pushing him so fast that Kyle fell to the floor. He looked up and Eric was looking down his nose at him; his eyes were hidden by the shadow of his hair and the darkness all around,

"I forgave you for being such a demon, for lying to me and everyone you ever knew, making us think you were straight, making us think you were trustworthy. All you ever did was grow more and more ignorant. It's the people like you that let my mother die. It's the people like you that give into sin and evil. You're pitiful, Kyle. You're on your knees…"

Everyone appeared around him, red and purple lights flashing from somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt like blood was pouring from his scalp, he felt like he was covered in bugs, but when he touched at his flesh nothing was there. He looked around, through the fog crawling in to see the warped faces of all those he had ever known,

"But I guess you're used to that,"

"It's where he belongs," Wendy snickered.

Stan shook his head as Kyle's mother cried out from his father's shoulder,

"Our family, disgraced! Our name stained! Oh, Kyle, I knew you were too good to be true. You were perfect in the places you wanted to be, but you turned out to be a failure in what you needed to be…you have failed me, hurt me, more deeply by this than any other mistake you could have made…why did you have to be this way? Where did I go wrong?"

"Mom…" He murmured, tears rolling down his face, "I don't want this, I just want to be normal! I just want my friends! I want my family!"

"Then you wouldn't give into this!" Ike screamed.

"I can't help it! It's-it's not something I can just stop!"

"You know this is a choice, you know it is! You're so selfish, you're so horrible!" The boy yelled.

"No, no, I don't want this! I just want my life back, I just want to be regular! Please! Please!"

Kyle woke up with a jolt but as his heart rate calmed he slowly came to true consciousness, rubbing his sore eyes with the back of his feminine wrists. He felt the brush of Bernadette's ring against his cheek. He opened his eyes, they were heavy and moist and his head was pounding. He turned to his side and saw Eric leaning against his bedside table. His lamp was on, it was dark outside his window and his room was silent and otherwise empty. Eric turned his head to Kyle, his expression serious but clearly worried,

"How are you feeling?"

"…head…"

Eric was equipped with Advil and a glass of water. He moved slightly and helped Kyle sit up against his bedpost. He sighed,

"What happened? What am I doing here?"

"You're home,"

"I know, I know…" He paused to take down the pills with the water, and continued, "But what happened? Why am I here?"

Eric stared at him anxiously.

"What do you last remember, Kyle?"

"I…I don't know…tell me how I got home, and I'll see what I remember…"

Cartman sighed, "Well, uh, I found you in the hall, you came to me crying…you, uh, passed out and I…carried you out. I put you in the car, took you inside, got you into your pajamas and into bed and I've waited for you to wake up…"

Kyle's hand rushed to his forehead as the memories flooded his frontal lobe.

"I may be a test-cheating, homework-copying, bullying, self-centered, even popularity-obsessed prat, but at least I'm not a faggot!"

He choked on water traveling down his throat, dropping the glass to the hardwood floor and even the sound of it shattering didn't bother him. He held his chest and his throat as he coughed violently, his face feeling hot again,

"F-fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Eric was splattered with water and he sighed, petting his sizeable hand over Kyle's shoulder,

"Calm down, Kye, I'm right here…can you tell me what happened?"

His tired eyes couldn't water; he had cried so much in the past two months, he was probably totally dehydrated.

"Stan—"

"I know…"

"You know?"

"It's all over Facebook, Myspace…I meant, as in, why did you faint?"

Kyle gripped his temples, his elbows resting against his knees, and he closed his eyes,

"Fuck…fuck, Eric…fuck, fuck my life, fuck…"

"Shit, can you just talk to me?"

He opened his right eye a slit to look at Eric and muttered,

"What do you mean? I passed out because I had a panic attack…"

"Yeah, but Kyle, have your panic attacks always been that bad?"

"Well, that was definitely the worst one, but they're usually something like that, yeah…"

Eric gripped his hand, Kyle's head tore away from his fingers and he met his eyes with Eric's.

"Kyle, that isn't okay. Kyle, if your anxiety has been that bad, you've needed to tell someone…you can't just…you can't just ignore it,"

"What are you going on about, Eric?"

His grip tightened around Kyle's hand,

"Walk me through a day, Kyle, just walk me through a normal day with you…"

Kyle sighed, "I don't know what you're getting at, but fine. I wake up at five a.m., I do laps around the block till six, I shower, dress, eat breakfast and I'm out the door by seven. I work at the school now, so I work first, second, fourth, seventh, eighth and ninth period, I get a ride back home from you, I clean whatever mess Ike has left in the living room or kitchen, grade papers, tests, quizzes and whatever else I've been given back that day, I prepare dinner for mom, dad and Ike, I make a call to Bernadette while I tend to my mother's garden in the backyard, I study after dinner and help Ike with his homework. After that I set my alarm clock again and go to sleep,"

Eric hit the back of Kyle's sore head, "God damn it, Kyle, you're a kid, not a super hero!"

The redhead pouted, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You can't just…you can't just pile on all that stress, you're fucking sixteen years old! You make it your responsibility to cook, clean and care for your family, make money for your family, buy groceries for me, remember Kenny's birthday, provide an armchair therapist for your Goddamn English teacher, I mean, shit, Kyle! You're just one person!"

Kyle looked away, "I'm able to handle it,"

Eric's eyes widened, "…that's why everything went to shit with you and Stan, isn't it?"

Kyle shot his head back to the brunette as he continued, "…you're so addicted to helping everyone and you didn't know how to help, Stan…you knew something was wrong, but you couldn't fix it and it's probably killing you that you're not the solution. He just relapses on Wendy and there's nothing you can do, so you act all passive and shit because you feel like you failed him…he's probably the only person you ever feel you failed, and it probably hurts the most because he was the most important person to you…and I bet you anything that your addiction to helping people came from your constant need to cover up the fact that you need help yourself and that you're too scared to accept who you are because you know that once you concentrate on you and your problems, you're going to need helping hands, but you're too obsessed with making everyone think that you're perfectly capable on your own…"

They stared at each other in silence for a long while…

"…that's why you're wearing Barnes's ring, isn't it?"

Kyle went to respond, but Eric interjected, "She failed her husband…just like you feel like you failed Stan…that's why you're wearing it, aren't you?"

Kyle just stared.

"And it's not just a means of telling yourself you failed, it's not just your little award of failure…it's your sick way of closing this, isn't it? It's your closure, cause as long as you wear that ring, that ring that meant all the devotion and love in the world couldn't survive it means that you belong to that category. As long as you wear that ring , it means that you've not just failed him, you've accepted that you failed him. That's what it all means, then…?"

"…the weather has been horrid lately, don't you agree?"

Eric studied Kyle's blank expression, his fingers twining against the genius's,

"Yeah. It's been raining a lot,"

Kyle looked out his window, muttering, "Do the professors know yet?"

"You got some calls, but I told them you weren't available. Everyone heard about you running out of your last class, so they were all a bit more than concerned about you…you're going to have to tell them what happened,"

"…what about my mother? My father? What about Ike? Do they know yet?"

"Your mom called and said she'd be home late cause she went to one of your father's trials today and Ike had a school play he'd be getting out of late. They'll be home in about an hour…you still have time to tell them yourself, I mean…you don't want them to find out through Facebook, do you?"

Kyle sighed deeply again, "…this is so fucked. My whole life is fucked. No one was supposed to know…God damn it…"

"Well…will your parents—"

"They're going to kill me…my mother has been nagging me about grandchildren since middle school, Eric…she's going to be devastated. And my father hates them…and Ike's gonna…shit, Ike's just gonna think I'm a girl now…"

"What can I do?"

Kyle looked back to him, smiling half-heartedly, "Just pay me back for the groceries over the past week by leaving a room open for me,"

Eric tried to laugh, "I hardly think it'll be that bad,"

Kyle didn't have the energy to argue with him. It was going to be bad, he knew that. But now that he was about to lose everything, nothing seemed to bother him. His parents were going to know and they were going to hate him, Ike was going to know and never look at him the same, his peers were going to know and they'd ridicule him, his supervisors were going to know and they'd hide him by the wayside. All because of one little word. In the heat of passion, everything was ruined because of one little word. Someone he loved, more dearly than he had loved anyone or anything before, used that word so carelessly and turned his world upside down. The person he loved didn't care that he had cried when he ran out of the room, he didn't care that he ran either. He didn't care that his feelings were hurt, his love didn't care that he had cried all that month. He didn't care that his heart was broken to a thousand pieces, he didn't care that he ruined his future, tarnished his name and credibility and he didn't care that Kyle was the most alone he had ever felt. Still, in all the pain whirling around him, all the pain that the refracted light through his window that purple morning so long ago had warned him, all the pain that the poem about the bastard reeds and the desperate wife promised him for so long, in all the loss and horror and shame…he missed Stan.

Even after all the hurt, he wished Stan were there, by his side, holding his hand and telling him that he'd take care of him. He wished Stan were the one that carried him home and tucked him in bed and read him so well. Even after all the damage…he loved Stan. And he couldn't stop. Not now.

"Kyle,"

He looked to Eric.

"It's okay to be angry,"

"…I still love him,"

"That means you should be angry,"

And he was.

That didn't mean the pain went away.

He smiled bitterly…

"Broflovski…if there is one thing you leave my classroom with this year, is please…please know that dreams are important…and you can't let—not one—die out. I was distracted with my students and paperwork and school functions…chasing my career and getting a name for myself…that…I let my husband fall out of love…and now I have to live alone…and work alone and eat alone and sleep alone and…it's not worth it Broflovski…not all the money or pride in the world could bring him back to me…so if you're alone someday, Broflovski and you're hurting like you've never hurt before, come to me and you can help me finish off a bottle of wine."

Bernadette owed him a bottle of wine.

Stan was pacing around his room, holding his head, his laundry scattered and an open bag of pot making his room smell disgusting. He had rummaged around his entire room, searching for a picture of him and Kyle that used to hang on his wall that he had taken off when he was alone with Wendy in there; he didn't want her getting the wrong idea. He was horrified, though, when he couldn't find it again. His bed wasn't made, his room was a mess, his stomach was empty, his hair was longer and mussed and his voice was tired and deeper; how did Kyle have that power over him? When Kyle was there, everything was okay, the world could crumble out from under his feet and he wouldn't have cared. But now that Kyle was gone, even the small, rectangular slides of evidence his angelic presence ever visited Stan's life was gone, now that he was without the one person who meant the most to him, he was changing and he hated it. He had always been brought up believing that change is good, that it's a part of life and it always leads to something better than before. But a future without Kyle Broflovski could only be cold and lonely. There was no happy ending without Kyle.

"Fuck…"

"Hey, turd!" Shelly's voice rang as she opened his door; without knocking, as always.

He shut his eyes tight, gripping the bridge of his nose and snapping,

"What, Shelly? What do you want?"

She tipped her hips, glaring down her nose, "Don't give me that attitude, dick,"

His eyes immediately watered and he turned around violently, his face red and his fists shaking,

"Just shut the fuck up, Shelly! Okay? Shut the fuck up! You're always moping around the Goddamn house, wallowing in self-pity and caring only about yourself! For your fucking information, I had a really fucking shitty day and I don't need your shit right now!"

She was caught off guard, her eyes wide and heart weak. She glanced around, inquiring,

"W-what happened?"

Stan would've taken note that it was the first time his sister ever sounded concerned for him, but his fury and overflowing sadness wouldn't let him focus on anything else,

"I fucked up! I fucking…" He dropped to his knees in all his scattered clothes, pressing his forehead against his palms, "Oh, God, Shelly, I fucked everything up…he hates me, Shelly…he fucking hates me…"

"Who? Who hates you? What happened?" She pressed.

"Kyle…" Stan looked up and Shelly saw, for the first time in a long time, the innocence sparkling in Stan's eyes, "Kyle…Kyle, Kyle…" He burst into hysterical tears, his chest contracting and heart lurching, "Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, Oh, God, I ruined everything! He's going to hate me forever, Shelly! He'll never speak to me again, I just fucked up everything!"

"What about Kyle?" She asked as she entered the room, crouching down and coating his shivering shoulder with her hand, "What the hell happened? What did you do?"

"I…I outted him…"

"You…" She trailed off, blinking in realization, "…wait…he's gay?"

"Yeah, and I was the only one that knew and I promised, Shelly, I promised Kyle I would never tell anyone, I promised him and I told them! I told them all and now everyone knows! Shelly, I feel awful, I feel sick…"

She ran her thumb up and down his shirt, looking away, "Shit, Stan…where have you been?"

He looked up to her, tears flooding down his face, "W-what do you mean?"

"I mean…you've been moody, quiet, argumentative…I've had to delete messages from the Dean for you, Kyle hasn't been over in ages…and when you looked at me just now, you looked like your old self. You looked better,"

He rolled his eyes and made an airy scoff, "What does that even mean?"

"Don't give me that," She started, "…what made you say it? What made you tell everyone?"

"You know how he's been teaching at the school?"

"Of course, it's been all over the news and all over the local newspapers,"

Stan growled deeply from his chest, practically ripping out his hair as he stood up and kicked at his strewn clothes,

"That's just it! He fuckin' hid everything from me! He was like, 'Oh, Stan, Ms. Barnes thinks I'm a prodigy' and that's all he ever told me! Then he was like 'Oh, I'm gonna leave the fuckin' country to do crazy fucking studies without you and just leave you with fucking Kenny and Eric and not give a shit about you anymore!' and I just fucking got pissed off! It's like, Kenny's been my only friend! He hooked me up with Wendy again, I've been going to all these parties and actually been making friends outside of Kyle and Cartman and Kyle's just been…" He sighed, "…I got angry, and…I called him…"

"…you called him, what?"

"…a faggot," He admitted shamefully.

Shelly cringed, "…shit…in front of everyone?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Well, why?"

"…he failed me,"

"For the semester?! Mom and Dad are gonna kill you!"

"No," He looked away again, "…no, he failed a major project…"

"…hmm…well…why would he hide things from you?"

"I dunno!"

"Well…have you ever hidden anything from him before?"

"No, Shelly, of course no—"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't tell Kyle, kay?"

"…Stan?"

He hadn't realized how long he had been silent…

"I…I did…I hid things from him…"

"Like what?"

"I…I didn't tell him that I was getting back together with Wendy…and I didn't tell him…"

Shelly tilted her head, "…you didn't tell him what?"

"…Shelly…is it normal to…daydream about your friends?"

"Well, yeah, I guess,"

"N-no, not like…I mean…is it normal to…daydream about…"

"About what, Stan? Just spit it out, turd,"

He sighed, "Fucking,"

"…fucking what?"

"…no, like…"

There was a long quiet again. Shelly's eyes widened and her voice went up three octaves,

"You mean like…you daydream about fucking Kyle!?"

Stan's face went red, "No!"

"No? Then what's the problem?"

"Stan…kiss me…"

"…when are we going to church again?"

"…Sunday, like we always do,"

"…fine. Good. I need to talk to Father Maxi. I need some answers,"