AN: Special thanks to my beta reader Buddy6o! Also Happy Halloween! This chapter is honestly 99.9999% me silently celebrating South Park's newest episode Tweek x Craig. I still feel like I'm dreaming over my all-time OTP becoming cannon.
Chapter Four
It's Bong… James Bong
I used to think South Park never changed. Same 'ol shitty town, same 'ol shitty people; nothing new about that.
I don't actually mind the fact South Park always remains exactly the same. In fact, I actually enjoy boring. Change is overrated. There's nothing more satisfying as going through your everyday knowing exactly what to expect. No surprises, no drama, no worries. It's easy, really fucking easy.
Lately, though, my perfect world has been cracked.
Today I discovered that while South Park may never change its people actually do.
Shocker.
I'm not talking about the fact that Wendy Testaburger finally actually got a pair of tits or that fat ass Eric Cartman isn't quite so much of a fat ass anymore but a bigger, more unpredictable kind of change.
And that change goes by the name of Tweek Tweak.
Tweek Tweak is supposed to be easily defined. Tweek never changed, or I thought he never changed. He was supposed to be the weird, helpless, crazy kid. Everything scares Tweek Tweak. Tweek Tweak screams at the smallest things. Tweek rants about otherworldly conspiracy theories. Tweek needs defending. Tweek Tweak's eyes are supposed to lively and dancing. That's Tweek.
This new Tweek Tweak isn't the same. This new Tweek seems capable of caring for their self. This new Tweek has their shit together. This Tweek Tweak only gets a little startled. This Tweek is rather silent and brooding. This Tweek has a sharp tongue and speaks it's mind when it wants. This Tweek Tweak's eyes are dead. That's not supposed to be Tweek.
I can't even comprehend when this change happened. It doesn't feel like that long since I've seen or really talked to Tweek but, then, when I think about it has been years. I don't actually see Tweek ever anymore. Occasionally I'll pass him in the halls at school but that's it.
The realization startles me. I don't like change but without realizing it, a major change had occurred.
As soon as I finished my first work shift at Tweek Bros. Coffee I couldn't get the stupid thought of Tweek out of my head. When did this change even happen? After two hours of sulking at home, I was going crazy.
I need answers.
"I'm going over to Tokens. Might come home later, don't know," I shout as I bound down the stairs.
"No one fucking cares you asshat!" My sister's annoying shrill voice shouts back instantly as a reply.
"Watch your fucking language Ruby!" My mother scolds, in her usual 'motherly' voice. I pause at the bottom of the stairs and glance into the living room.
All three members of my family sit somewhere in the living room. My mom and sister are on the couch while my dad lounges in the recliner, a newspaper blocking his face from view. Some documentary on the civil war is playing on the TV. I always catch my family watching documentaries and I honestly didn't get it. Documentaries are soo boring.
"Craig started it! He's a bad influence, punish him! Don't yell at me." That's classic Ruby trying to get me in unnecessary trouble. Without much thought my left hand is raised and the middle finger flaunting.
"Hey, didn't you start that new job of yours today?" My mom asks rather abruptly. She's the only one I actually told, in hopes she'd forget and no one would bother me. There goes that plan.
"Yep." I pop the 'p' and Ruby sends me a sharp glare.
"Stop that!" She snaps predictably. She absolutely hates it when I pop the 'p' in words; which is probably half the reason I even do it. "You got a job? Where at?"
"The coffee shop." I don't want to elaborate nor do I even want to have this conversation. I just want to leave, maybe go smoke some weed with Token and get some damn answers. Yeah, that sounds perfect.
"Wait a minute, the Tweak's coffee shop?" Ruby instantly perked up at the mention of Tweek. She always did have a weird obsession with Tweek.
"What was that?" The mention of the Tweaks just has to be the one thing to get my dad's attention. Correction, my entire family always has a weird obsession with Tweek. It's weird too considering it has been years since Tweek has been around.
"Craig got a job at the Tweak family's coffee shop. Good thing, that Tweek boy really was a sweet one. When are you going to invite him over?"
"God mom just shut up." I groan.
"Watch your mouth you little shit," Dad snaps. I guess it's kind of sweet how he always tries to stand up for my mom. Actually, never mind, it's more annoying than anything else because he's always yelling at me and no one else over it.
"I agree with mom, invite Tweek over. He's soo cute." Okay no, that's gross. Ruby just shut up.
"I'm leaving." I ignore my family's annoying shouts and questions about Tweek and storm through the front door.
It's a twenty-minute walk to the Black residence and for once I don't actually mind it. The trip is spent thinking about nothing and everything all at once. None the less I accomplish nothing with my pondering.
When I arrived at the Black's house, which is really a mansion, I don't bother knocking and instead just walk in.
I'm pretty sure Token's parents are off touring Europe or some shit but even if they weren't I've been walking in uninvited to the Black's family residence for years.
Bob Marley music greets me as soon as I open the door and that could mean only one thing. Sure enough, I make my way to the basement and as soon as I open the white door leading down, a distinct smell hits me.
I vaguely recognize the song Metal Jungle or Concrete Forest or something to be playing off the beautiful sound system we named Bessie in eighth grade. Clyde likes to listen to Bob Marley music when he smokes weed, he calls it symbolic or some shit.
I purposely slam the door very loudly behind me. Token and Clyde are sitting in one of the many soft ass couches in Token's massive theater room. I'm pretty sure the entire basement area is supposed to be a family room, but it's more of a private theater with its giant ass TV, popcorn machine and bar that is stocked up with the Movie Theater kind of junk.
I laugh silently as the two dumbasses let out shrill screams. They both jump and whirl around to stare at me wide-eyed. The music is turned down and I swear to god I see tears in Clyde's eyes.
"Craig… I didn't know you were coming over."' Token states calmly as if he didn't just totally scream like a girl.
"What, you don't want to share your weed with me, you asshole?" Token rolls his eyes and sets down some new bong he's holding onto the floor.
"No Craig I just thought you were my parents. You just about gave me a heart attack, jackass."
"Whoops."
"Craaaaig," Clyde whines. "Why do you have to be so meaaaaan?" The brunette's eyes are red and glazed over. I'm honestly surprised the fatass isn't busy stuffing his face from a bad case of the munchies.
"Where've you been all day? I texted you earlier, but you didn't reply." Token asks suddenly. I may or may not have 'forgotten' to tell them about my new surprise job. And I may or may not have 'forgotten' to reply to Token's texts all day.
"I was at work."
"Don't lie to us you asshole! I see through all your lies," Clyde hisses. He's pointing at both of his eyes but then rotates them over to point at me. I roll my eyes with a groan and sit down in between Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber.
"Is that a new bong?" I reach down to pick it up, but Clyde squeals and snatches it up before I can.
"You got a job?" Token asks, oh so rudely ignoring me.
"Yep." I once again pop the 'p' and mentally I can hear Ruby scolding me.
"Do you want to know what the bong's name is?" Clyde asks, suddenly getting all excited like a puppy or some shit.
"No, not really."
"Where are you working?" Token questions.
"No Craaaiiig. You want to know what the bongs name is."
"Somewhere." I respond to Token while ignoring Clyde.
"Craaaaiiig! Guess what the bong's name is."
"I don't care Clyde."
"Where at Craig?"
"No Craaaaaiiig! You seriously have to know. You want to know."
"If you want me to know the god damn bong's name so badly then just tell me it you dumb ass." I snap, annoyed. I only have the patience of dealing with high Clyde if I'm high as well.
"Clyde I'm trying to have a conversation with Craig." Clyde ignores Token and inhales deeply. He clears his throat and his face suddenly gets very serious. I've learned very early on that nothing good comes out of Clyde when he gets 'serious'.
He slowly starts to rotate the bong around so I can see the front of it as he speaks. "It's Bong…" The top part of the bong is white but as he turns it I realize the bottom part that's black is painted to be shaped kind of like a tux jacket, complete with a tie and everything. I quickly realize what this is turning into and groan. "James Bong."
Honestly, it is kind of funny, and really fucking clever too. I'd bet a million bucks though the dumb ass just got it from some internet meme or something so it's a little less clever. I'm almost, almost, impressed.
"Did you get that off of Facebook?"
"Oh fuck you, Craig! Why do you always assume I get everything from facebook?" Clyde lets out something between a sob, groan and sigh and it comes out sounding really weird.
"He got it from Facebook." Token confirms.
"Token not you too!" Clyde mutters something about going to go cry alone in the bathroom before he gets up and leaves the room.
"So," Token slowly starts as soon as the peace has returned with Clyde's sudden disappearance. "You got a job?"
I grunt and pick up James Bong and the lighter lying next to it. The bowl looks kind of empty, but I shrug it off and hit the piece anyways.
"Where are you working at?" I exhale slowly, half to savor the decent hit and the other half to procrastinate telling Token about my new job.
Tweek is actually kind of a touchy subject between the three of us. We used to actually be friends with the twitchy little fuck. One day Tweek stopped going to class as much and pulled away from us. We tried to stay in touch with him but whenever we'd visit his house his parents would send us away and Tweek was obviously going out of his way to ignore us.
As time passed we drifted further and further apart until we no longer even talked to him. Then for a time he even became friends with Cartman and those assholes and we were pissed. Ever since it always did kind of feel like we were missing something in our friend group and the subject remained to be unspoken and honestly kind of awkward.
So when I say ,"Tweek Bros," it's a pretty damn shocking thing.
Token is silent and staring. His face is relatively blank so it's hard to figure out what he's thinking. I chose to ignore the silence by hitting the bong a second time before deeming it truly empty. By the time, I empty the bowl and start refilling it from the little sandwich baggy sitting on the coffee table Token finally speaks.
"How the hell did that happen?"
"Well remember how I told Kenny I want a job so I can buy that nice ass car?" Token nods. "Apparently Kenny's been working there. I guess him and Tweek are actually friends too. Kenny's been thinking about quitting it so he could focus on being a shady ass drug dealer and he offered me the job."
Token's staring at me in silence again. He always does this when he's thinking too hard. I fucking hate it. But finally Token speaks up.
"I'm not trying to be an asshole or anything, but you actually accepted the offer?" I shrug and hit the greens. As I exhale I pass James to Token who hesitantly takes it.
"Well, he kind of told me about Tweek. Something about how he's not quite what you'd expect or whatever. Plus he smokes weed." Token inhales sharply while he was in the middle of hitting the bong and ends up coughing violently. "I didn't really believe him and I was super fucking curious." I pause. "Plus Kenny offered me an entire free ounce."
And I really did need a job.
Token starts coughing harder. At this moment Clyde enters the room again, now carrying a bowl of cereal. Clyde plops himself down beside me and stuffs a spoonful of Captain Crunch into his mouth. "Vhats hisf broplem?" Clyde asks through a full mouth. I chose to ignore him, but Clyde stars kicking my leg repeatedly while chanting my name in between bites.
Clyde is an annoying fuck head.
"He's freaking out over the fact I got a fucking job at Tweek Bros."
Telling Clyde was a mistake. Cue face full of cereal spit. Fucking nasty.
Token seemed to have recovered slightly sometime during Clyde spitting food all over me. He presses a hand to his chest as he breathes deeply. "That and the fact that Tweek apparently smokes weed now."
A high pitched squeal emits from Clyde and I watch in horror as the bowl of cereal starts slipping from his hands. In a feat that both surprises me and prides me, I reach out and catch the bowl before any of it can create a nasty ass mess.
"What? Just w-what?" Clyde's mouth keeps opening and closing. I'm glad I'm not the only one who's utterly mind blown by the idea of stoner Tweek.
"Oh and Kenny gave me an entire ounce for taking over his job, something about being Tweek's shift friend or buddy or whatever."
"Holy. Shit. What. What. What. What." I'll be honest; I take pleasure over perplexing my friends so much, even if what's confusing them so much is alsoconfusing the fuck out of me too.
"When did this all happen?" Token asks, shaking his head. Clyde is still saying 'what' over and over again so I reach out and punch him in the arm.
"Ahhhh Craaaaig!"
"I don't fucking know. I came over to ask you that." Clyde keeps whining some shit about spouse abuse or whatever.
"Dude I haven't talked to Tweek in years, how am I supposed to know?"
"I don't know, you know everything so you're supposed to know." James Bong is passed to me and I take it happily. Being high is probably my favorite hobby. Token always says that it can't be a hobby, but I beg to differ.
"That's bullshit Craig, I don't know everything. Jeez, we haven't talked to Tweek in what, five or six years?" I freeze and idly pass James to Clyde.
Has it really been that long? It's still hard to believe that this is going to be my final year of high school. I don't feel like an almost adult. I swear to god puberty was only like a year ago. I guess it really has been five or six years though.
"Shit, we're getting old!" Clyde cries, sounding absolutely horrified.
"Are you sure Kenny wasn't lying about Tweek smoking weed?" Token asks. I sigh and the memory of watching Tweek with the cigarette disguised joint consumes me. The sight of Tweek smoking a cigarette surprised the shit out of me, but I recognized the smell burning to not be one of tobacco but marijuana.
I had asked to try the joint just to make sure it really was what he said it was. The memory of Tweek practically shitting a brick and choking to death in front of me does make me smile slightly. That first moment was more like the Tweek I remember.
"Positive. He showed up at work smoking a joint. I even took a drag to make sure it was real." Token lets out a shrill whistle and leans back into the couch.
"You guys, promise me you'll tell me when I start getting grey hair." Clyde has his hands in his hair and he's running them through it rapidly. The action just reminds me of Tweek and once again I'm mind blown over today.
"Shut the fuck up Clyde. You're not old."
"Craig don't be such an ass." Mama Token to the rescue, whoop-di-doo. "You know it's not really our business if Tweek smokes weed or not. We smoke weed. Everyone at South Park high pretty much smokes weed."
Now that's the big ugly truth. I even smoked good 'ol marijuana with Wendy Fucking Testaburger at a party once.
"Yeah, but this is Tweek we're talking about!" Clyde exclaims, suddenly joining our conversation on a relevant scale. "Remember in fourth grade when he was convinced the sun was going to burn his skin off? Or when we walked by that person smoking a cigarette and he freaked out over lung cancer?" Token snorts at the memory and I can't help but smirk slightly.
In all honestly the more exciting memories always included our local crazy kid. Half the school is split between adoring Tweek and hating him. Yeah, he's kind of crazy but it had been unspoken that he was our crazy. I can't believe I was just realizing how much has changed. Why did I never question or care about Tweek's sudden distance?
Well it's not like I never cared. It was more- ugh. Nevermind.
"Well, people change." Token points out with a halfhearted shrug.
"I don't change!" Clyde exclaims, throwing up his arms.
"Yeah you fucking do." I snap. "Your IQ dropped at least a solid twenty points dude." I'm proud of myself over that one but Clyde starts whining which is annoying. Then Token is split between laughing and reassuring Clyde.
Moments like these are pretty common but what's new is the fact that y thoughts just kept going back to a certain blonde boy.
Honestly, it's pissing me off. I shouldn't be so focused on it. It shouldn't matter. People change. Someone I used to be friends with has changed and now I work with them. So what? Get the fuck over it Craig Tucker. You hate change, but it's inevitable.
So why can't I get him out of my head?
Xxx
The next day I arrive at Tweak Bros. ten minutes earlier than the whole 'come over ten minutes early'. Meaning I was twenty minutes early and felt like a moron. I swear I'm no eager to get back to work; I just want to get work over with.
That's it.
I decide to pass the extra time as casually as possible by standing out front and smoking a cigarette. I try my hardest to keep my gaze on the wandering pedestrians outside, or the annoying ass birds that keep circling the air above me… But the cozy ambiance of a certain coffee shop just keeps stealing my attention. More particularly a certain barista is just very distracting.
Tweek stands behind the counter in the shop. Five tables inside the shop are occupied but no one is currently at the front counter. Tweek is slouched over, his fingers tapping rapidly on the surface. His mouth is moving slightly, rapidly speaking unheard words. His eyes look kind of glazed over and kind of red. Is he high? The thought makes me feel a twinge of something.
I would have spent the entire extra ten minutes of waiting outside if it wasn't so goddamn cold. Seriously, it shouldn't be this damn chilly in summer. In the end I have no choice but to walk through the front doors and into the warm embrace of the coffee shop as soon as the tobacco stick is smoked down most of the way.
As the door dings closed Tweek perked up, his mouth automatically opening and his eyes widening. Honestly those green ass eyes are kind of distracting.
"W- Welcome to Tweek Bros. co-" Tweek stops suddenly as his eyes met mine. "A-Ack! C-Craig."
"Tweek," I respond blandly. I mean, what else am I supposed to say? An awkward 'hello' or 'what do you want punk' or maybe even 'hi Tweek why don't you get the fuck out of my head already'? Neither option is exactly pleasant either.
"I, ngh, remembered to order your n-nametag! It'll be here in a-about a week." I shrug impassively, feeling kind of awkward and unsure what to say. "I g-guess you can continue to be K-Kenny or just not wear a nametag until then."
"Okay."
"B-But you still have fifteen minutes until you start so you can hang o-out in the break room or start n-now. It's up to y-you." Tweek seems a little more relaxed than yesterday. At a closer proximity I could with clarity see how bloodshot his eyes are. He doesn't smell like weed at all though. How was I even supposed to know what Tweek was like when he was high anyways?
"Okay." I turn to start walking towards the break room when Tweek squeaks some weird protest. I turn towards him and his cheeks are red in what I assume to be embarrassment.
"Do you w-want some c-coffee or s-something?"
To be honest I fucking hate coffee. It's nasty as fuck. It tastes like actual liquid shit and it looks like it too. But, I'm tired. Really fucking tired. I was up half the night with Token and Clyde having a GTA gaming spree while smoking weed. It was nice but in the end, despite it being almost one in the afternoon, I only got about four hours of sleep.
"Sure." I shrug.
"W-well what do you want?" Shit. What kind of coffee do people normally even drink? Was it like a chocolate latte or something? SHIIIIIT.
"I don't care. Just make whatever." Tweek is sputtering something about pressure as I turn on my heels and leave the room.
Tweek is the coffee Jedi master or whatever; I honestly have full faith in him making a surprise coffee for me. It's all nasty anyways.
When I step into the break room the first thing I noticed is that the weird ass music Tweek listens to is playing. It's playing the in the shop too but in here it's louder and at a more casual volume rather than the barely there background music it plays as in the shop. The next thing I notice is the undeniable smell of marijuana.
I was right. Tweek is fucking high. The thought is still mind blowing. Just – fuck. On the coffee table my gaze falls on a light green, moderate sized, bubbler. I step closer to the table and sit down on the couch. There's a little sandwich baggy that's about a quarter of the way full of a certain green plant and the bowl of the bubbler looks to be just about all ash. I notice the lighter and a surprise burst of laughter escapes me.
The lighter is black with a white coffee cup on it. In gold flowing letters the lighter so boldly claims "Coffee is my anti-drug". I don't exactly understand what the fuck irony is but I want to say that the fucking lighter is ironic as fuck.
The break room is honestly weird. There's a tiny little bathroom shoved in one corner with a closet next to it. The closet is bigger than the actual bathroom and is filled with cleaning supplies. Just fucking cleaning supplies. I have a feeling that this is all thanks to Tweek.
In one of the other corners of the room is the set of three lockers, something I don't quite understand the use of. In the opposite corner are shelves full of boxes of coffee grounds, coffee sweeteners, coffee syrups, coffee cups and pretty much anything needed to run a freaking coffee shop. On the opposite wall of the shop are the sound system and a few feet in front of that is the two couches and coffee table. The room is a pretty decent size but I feel like it's just really weird.
I cross the room to the locker that Tweek pulled the shit out of yesterday and open it up. Hanging on one of the hooks is a black hoodie. I'm guessing it's Tweek but it seems weird to think of him wearing anything besides green. I swear he lives in green.
I grab the remaining, sure enough, green apron and put it on. I really don't like aprons. They make me feel like a 50's pin up housewife, don't ask me why. After a moment of consideration I put on Kenny's name tag then I seat my ass down on the couch.
In all honestly I really want to try out that stupid green bubbler and ironic lighter but it feels wrong. Instead I sigh and stand up to leave the room. Right as I'm about to reach the door though it opens, nearly slamming me in the face.
"Fuck!" I exclaim, stepping back.
Tweek's red face appears around the side of the door. "A-Aagugh!" He shakes his head and sheepishly steps inside the room. He's holding a large hot coffee in one hand and the other hand is twisted into the collar of his shirt. "I'm so s-sorry!" He honestly looks pretty fucking terrified. What? Does he think I'd fucking punch him for nearly slamming the door in my face or something?
"It's fine." Tweek hesitantly holds out the coffee and I take it from him. He stands there, staring at his feet, fidgeting slightly. I watch as he shakes his head slightly and inhales deeply. As he finishes exhaling he looks up with a shy smile. His eyes drift to behind me, to the coffee table more specifically, and his face is suddenly full of dread.
His cheeks flame a brighter red than before and his jaw drops. Did he accidentally leave out the bubbler? Would appear so… "O-Oh. U-Um, you p-probably saw the s-stuff on the t-table, huh?"
No shit Sherlock. "Yeah."
"D-Do you want to s-smoke some before you start your shift?" Hell yeah I do.
Instead I simply shrug. "Sure." I paused. "What about all the customers?"
"Nngh, there's a sign on the counter. T-They're supposed to ring the b-bell if they need help." Well that makes sense, I guess. I shrug and fallow Tweek to the couches. I sit down on the one opposite of him and watch as he pulls a black ash tray towards him and uses a poker to empty the bowl of the bubbler.
"I like your lighter." Tweek jumps and lets out a squeal. His green eyes dart up to mine and widens. Red blossoms on his cheeks again and I swear he didn't blush this much yesterday. Does weed make him a bashful little fuck or something?
"O-Oh god." He groans as his face drops into his hands. I smirk to myself when I notice that even the tips of his ears are red. "That's s-so embarrassing." He pulls his hands off his face and then gets back to loading the piece with shaky hands. "Kenny f-found it somewhere and bought it f-for me as a joke."
"Sounds like Kenny." Tweek finishes filling the piece and with shy hands hold it out towards me. I take the bubbler and when I hit it, it hit smooth and well. I approve. I can't help but wonder what its name is; I mean all pieces have a name. In the end I really don't care enough to ask.
When I pass the bubbler back to Tweek he wastes no time taking it and then flicking the lighter to life. Watching Tweek smoke is instantly distracting. Everything about the twitchy fucker is distracting.
His eyelashes flutter to a near close as he focuses on the task at hand. When he's smoking he's the most still and calm I've ever seen him.
Once he's inhaled enough he releases the lighter and leans back, his head tipping up slightly. His eyes remain closed and when he starts to exhale his eyes slowly open and a ghost of smoke swirls around him before turning to nothing. It's compelling how his lips turn up ever so slightly at the corners.
Why the hell is this kid so fucking distracting?
I busy myself by taking a sip of the coffee Tweek made me. It's hot, really fucking hot but it's also actually kind of good. I'm impressed.
Really fucking impressed.
