I do not own any of this. Trey and Matt do.
Stan's POV
The car went on and Justin continued to keep an eye on me for reasons that weren't made clear. I wanted to ask, but I refrained because such actions would be nosy. Was he looking for just me in particular or was he lending a helping hand? My mind swirled with these possibilities, while also taking into account the fact he desperately invited me when I told him about my past experience.
I looked out the window and saw the night beginning to end. I saw a sign saying "Welcome to Breckenridge." the first town I'd entered since I left. The surrounding buildings were no bigger than the ones back in South Park, but the community felt more urban. Justin turned into a small neighborhood where his house was. The houses there were shaped and sized the same way the ones in South Park were. Justin's house was painted a bright yellow.
He pulled up and he got out. I was hesitant to do so, so I remained in my seat. Justin got halfway up the doorstep when he noticed I wasn't beside him. He looked at him.
"Aren't you coming in?" he offered. I was still a little suspicious. "Don't worry, you're safe with me." he added. I slowly and carefully got out of the car and met up with him.
He opened the door to his home and the atmosphere was far different from what it was back home. The carpet was a vibrant yellow, the walls were wood as opposed to drywall, and each room was separated by a door. It felt like a ski lodge up in the mountains. Justin led me into the door on the left into the living room. In there was a 90s style couch, soft and comfy. There were arm chairs that were styled similar to the couch, and to top it off, a fireplace on the wall. Justin offered me a spot on the couch, to which I accepted.
As I sat down on the couch, he settled down on an arm chair nearby. We remained silent for a few minutes, but I couldn't help but notice him occasionally just glance at me. As time wore on, this got more irritating and enhanced my suspicion. I was planning on having him explain himself, but he surprisingly jumped in.
"You look like someone I knew," he stated. The sudden break of silence made look up to him. "if that's what you were wondering." I continued to look at him, as if he was preparing to say more, but I decided to ask.
"Who do I look like?" he didn't take long to answer. "An old friend of mine. You look exactly like him; hair that's black as the night and eyes as blue as the sky." he described.
"Who was he?" I asked, trying to get the real answer from him. "Randy, Randy Marsh." Of course, the name rung a bell.
"I know him. He was my father." I told him. Justin's eyes widened.
"Well...that should explain everything." he sighed.
"If you were his friend, then how he's never told me about you?" I asked.
"Well...it's a long story."
"What happened?"
Justin remained silent for a few moments, and then sighed heavily.
"We were best friends since preschool. We did almost everything together; play dates, sleepovers, camping trips, you name it." He chuckled a little; possibly reminiscing said memories. But then it died down.
"But as we grew closer...I kind of fell in love with him." The conclusion seemed clear.
"So that's why he hates you, because you're gay?" I asked. He shook his head, to my surprise.
"No, although I loved him, I don't think he really had a clue. To him, I was his friend and didn't see past that."
"So what did happen?"
He sighed deeply again, but then continued.
"We were in fourth grade, and I finally came out of the closet. But it wasn't originally to him. I told one kid, then he told another, and they told another, and I don't really know how far it got that day. But that kid, and some people that got word cornered me in the bathroom. They didn't take the fact very lightly, and they beat me up." he got out. He breathed deeply before going on.
"But...Randy came back for me. He saw me there, and I told him the truth. He accepted it, and he brought me to his house after school. His parents were away and we had the house to ourselves." He paused for a moment.
"My love for him was ready to burst at that point. But I knew he was straight and wouldn't take me." He then started to shake a bit, and that appeared in his voice. There was also evident anger.
"I could've talked to him about it, he would've understood! But no! I acted so stupid! I just had to because I couldn't help myself!" he yelled, still breathing heavily. He choked up a little. I couldn't help but step in.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad." He looked up at me.
"No...it's not your fault..." he told me softly.
"It's my fault...for raping...your father."
I couldn't believe it. A part of me suddenly felt that he was the one who ruined Randy; that he was the one who caused me all this pain and hatred.
"You're a fucking monster!" I lashed out.
"Do you have any idea what you did to him?! You're the reason I practically have nobody! You're the reason he hates me! I hope you burn in hell!" And with that, I barged out the door. I started to march away from the street, but then I stopped. My mind returned to reality, and thought about how Justin said everything and how out of character I just acted. I sat on the curb and thought.
Justin's POV
Of course he shouldn't forgive me. I never deserved forgiveness for what I've done and I deserve to live with the memory of that fateful April night for the rest of my life. I'm still gay- nothing will ever change that- but I never found another person to settle down with. I tried, but it never worked out. Randy was the only person I could've ever had a chance with, and I quickly squandered it like a selfish little brat!
I ran out of his home, and never looked back. My eyes were squeezed shut, for tears threatened to escape. I had just lost the greatest person in my life to a careless act I was responsible for. I don't deserve him as a result of it; not as a best friend, a companion, or even someone worth knowing.
Blindly, I felt myself hit the sidewalk head on along with a crack to my glasses. There was no strength left inside me to get back up and I cried right there.
I then heard my mother calling my name, accompanied by rushing footsteps, showing that she has found me. She lifted from the ground and I cried into her chest. She wrapped her arms around me. She asked me what was wrong, but I made a promise to myself to never tell her what I have done. So I didn't say anything.
She walked me home, where I supposed my father was waiting. I heard his voice, but it was more intimidating than my mother's.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" he yelled. Unlike my mother, my father wasn't as understanding when it came to me hanging out with friends. The anger in his voice made me cry harder. My mother and I ignored him and the two of us walked up to my room.
She settled me down on my bed and asked me again.
"What's matter, honey?" my face was buried in my pillow.
"You're...gonna hate...me!" I cried into my pillow. She placed a hand on my back.
"Don't worry, honey. Talk to me like you would to yourself. Think of me as your journal." she told me in her comforting voice. I hesitated for a minute, still very afraid of how she would react. But then, I mustered up the courage to speak.
"I'm..." I paused for a moment, the last time I will be viewed as "nomral."
"I'm...gay." I was silent while I was waiting for my mother to take it in, and preparing for the worst.
"Oh, dear." she then hugged me. "It's alright, there's nothing to be ashamed of." I continued to hug, as she soothed me.
Since that day, I continued to go out to "hang out with Randy." Our house didn't have a window facing Randy's house, and they never bothered to check from outside. I took some precaution, however, and went in the direction to his house. In order to truly make my lie believable, I walked past his house. Shivers went down my spine everytime I went by there; fearing that Randy or one of his family members would confront me.
Once I got past, I did whatever I felt like, while also hoping that they buy the act. I had no other friends really, and I usually went to the playground. Other times, I would put my allowance together in order to go to the arcade.
However, as time went by, I realized that I couldn't put up this charade forever. I decided to end my "friendship." I knew that this couldn't be a mere blowup. So I started another act.
A year after the rape, I came home one day pretending to be irratated.
"How was school, honey?" my mother asked from the kitchen. I didn't answer and put an agitated look on my face. It would've uncharacteristic of me to not come into the kitchen, so I ended up meeting her in there. Once in her sight, I sighed.
"What's the matter, dear?" she asked, concerned. I looked up at her, knowing exactly what to tell her.
"There's this girl at school that Randy really likes, and I think he might care for her more than he does for me." I lied. She then sat down with me, completely buying my statement.
"What's her name?" I quickly thought of the pretty girls in our school, and said the first one who came to mind.
"Courtney Brown."
"Oh, he just has a little crush. Boys your age...well, boys that like girls, will do anything for a girl they have a crush on. And sometimes, that girl may be the only thing a boy thinks about, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about his friends. Just give Randy a little time. Even if Courtney likes Randy in return, he'll still remember you." she then gave her good old pat on the back.
"Thanks, Mom." I said.
This charade continued for the next two months, with the "problem" getting more and more severe. Within a week, I had Randy ask Courtney out, to which she obliged. Another week later, they had declared themselves to be boyfriend and girlfriend. A half week later, they shared their first kiss. And with each passing day, Randy continued to push me further and further apart. At first, he became somewhat present; as if he were trying to be the perfect best friend as well as the perfect girlfriend. But as the timeline continued, the get-togethers got "cancelled" more times than not. Several times, my mother asked me if she wanted to sort things out with Randy's father, but I insisted on her to not. I convinced her that I can solve the matter on my own. She agreed of course.
Finally, at the two month mark, I decided to begin a confrontation; one to remind Randy of who his "friend" is. I had Randy pretend that he still hangs out with me, even though the dilemma proves otherwise. I had three more confrontations; each one set a random amount of time a part.
The fourth and final one was the one that "tore" the friendship apart. This plot was definitely the hardest to make up. I could've had Randy lash out, stating that I'm too much of a burden. Although this appeared to be the obvious move, I threw it out, knowing that it required too great of an emotional response for me to feign. I then decided to simply have myself move on, thinking that it's best for Randy. I then told my mother that, and she luckily accepted my rational. It took nearly three months, but I pulled off a "breakup."
I then heard Randy's son come back through the door. He looked rather ashamed.
"Please forgive me, sir." he pleaded. I was stunned to see him begging for my forgiveness. I didn't think I deseved it.
"But why? I raped your father and it ruined your life."
"I know, but I realized that it wasn't entirely your fault. You were just ten, my age. You loved Randy more than anything, and you just couldn't help yourself." he observed. He then continued.
"I didn't think of this at first and I just lashed out on you. I want your forgiveness, sir."
I thought about this for a moment. I never thought I could hear this come from a ten year old. If someone as old as the criminal I was could see a light in this mess, then I realized that even I could forgive myself and move on.
"I forgive you. Also, you can call me Justin." I told him.
"I'm Stan."
To Be Continued
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