I'm so hurt! I see that people are reading at least the first chapter of my story. Please PLEASE review, guys! Is this really that bad? Lets try to say a thing or to after reading, yes? I want to give a big thanks to IrishGoddess, who, like me, is a new writer…and who keeps supplying me with reviews. Reviews that keep me going! Alright, enough with my usual pleas, on with the story.

Chapter 4- The Breakthrough

Comforting Stan had become routine to Kyle. He didn't mind it, because Stan was his best friend, but tonight was ridiculous. He had to lose his cool, and he hated to do that. Kyle enjoyed being known as the laid back one of the group. He used to be so uptight he walked around with knots in his stomach all day long. And Stan used to be the voice of reason. Actually, he still was, most of the time. He hadn't changed much in that respect—he was just a lot lot LOT more jealous and irrational when drunk. And Kyle knew this. Kyle accepted it.

Nothing changed the fact that he would do anything for his best friend. Its hard to imagine such a bond that the two had—they had been inseparable since preschool. There are not too many people like that out in the world. Kyle knew everything about Stan. He loved him for it. He wasn't in love, but he knew that Stan would be his best man at his wedding, his second brother, and his neighbor when they were grumpy old men. He had already planned out his life, leaving ample room in to be around Stan. He felt such a strong bond with the guy. And aside from the events unfolding that night, Stan and Kyle were closer than ever before.

All of these reasons were why Kyle had to be supportive in Stan's dark hour. Why he had to sit by and hear him say some of the most selfish, absurd comments about Wendy and Cartman. Why he had to leave the party temporarily, and risk missing Geneva. Stan came first. Always had, and always will.

Stan was crying now, in his own macho sort of way. He sniffed his nose and wiped his eyes every few seconds so he wouldn't give away how much he was hurting. But Kyle knew. He gently rubbed Stan's back in response.

Stan paused from the sobbing long enough to search the ground for answers. "I just can't seem to get over it, Kyle!" he realized. He was beginning to sober up a bit. "I know deep down that Wendy is not right for me. But it doesn't make it any easier to see her with Cartman!" Kyle nodded. "I'm just not sure I'll EVER be over her."

At this, Kyle frowned. Most of the time, Stan didn't even mention Wendy's name. He seemed to be getting over her quite nicely. It was only when he heard about her and Cartman, or he knew that he was going to see her sometime in the future. But Kyle figured that was a normal response to someone you spend six years of your life with. He couldn't relate personally. "Stan, you ARE getting over her. Its only when you see them together." He paused, and then added, "and when you are drunk."

Stan looked into his best friend's eyes. Kyle had the most sincere look of compassion on his face that he had ever seen. It was impossible to stay mad at the situation. He sighed. "I know. Its just weird, you know?"

"Of course it is!" Kyle exclaimed. "She was your girlfriend for forever!" Kyle gazed straight into Stan's deep blue eyes and hushed his tone. "But she isn't anymore. And because of that, I need you to go back downstairs, and forget about those two! So what if they are in his room. There are so many other girls at this party that you haven't even begun to give a chance to that I know personally are just lined up to date you." He situated himself on the couch so that his arms were resting on his knees, and his hand gestures were doing the talking. "Stan, you are an incredible guy, okay? And you know you're hot. There is bound to be someone out there for you that is a thousand times better than Wendy. I want you to find that special someone, and you can't do that if you sulk around all day about your lost love. Its time to stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start looking around you. The possibilities are limitless."

Stan stared at Kyle for a long time without saying anything. He saw a sparkle in Kyle's dazzling green eyes that he had never noticed before. He watched Kyle blink several times, waiting for a response. His face was so close to him that he could have leaned in and bumped his forehead.

"Stan?" Kyle asked, awaiting a reply.

Stan sat motionless, continuing to observe his friend. Kyle looked really good tonight, he thought. He always thought Kyle was a good-looking guy, but tonight, there was something different about him. He was closer to his face than ever before, and Stan zoomed in on some faint freckles placed sporadically on Kyle's cheeks. They were cute. He was cute. He was trying so hard to get Stan to rejoin the party, and it was very obvious why he wanted Stan to be over Wendy. Any more obvious, and Stan would have been kissing his best friend right there. Why was this happening? His vision started to blur as he realized he hadn't blinked for quite some time.

Kyle appeared worried and confused. "Stan?" he repeated. "Did you hear anything I just said?" He waved his hand in front of Stan's face to snap him out of it.

That did the trick. Stan blinked and shook his head. "Oh…hey. Yeah, sorry." He had been lost in the moment. What moment? he thought to himself "Yeah, I hear you." Kyle was absolutely 100 right, and Stan knew at from that moment on that he would never be able to look at his friend in the same way. Was he trying to tell him something? Stan wasn't sure, but decided to go with the flow. "Yeah, let's go back downstairs. If you want to."

Kyle smiled at Stan. He had accomplished the task of calming him down once again. And this time, he knew he really got through to the kid. Excited, he stood up and motioned Stan to do the same. He was little taken aback by the awkward moment they had just had, but let it slide. "Oh wait, dude. If people are going to be here awhile, I'm gonna smoke again. You want to?"

Stan nodded. His buzz was starting to come back, but he needed something else to kick him back up. He hated sobering up before passing out for the night. Pot mixed with alcohol seemed like a good idea to him. "K, let me just go back downstairs to get a drink. We can chill up here for awhile that way," he informed Kyle, who was already packing a bowl for himself. He nodded in concentration, and Stan crept out of the room, not sure if Kyle even knew where he was going.

As he slowly walked down the steps, he took a deep breath before pushing open the attic door. If Cartman's room was still closed, that meant he had to walk past it with no thought. If Cartman's room was empty, that meant he had to make a beeline to the keg before he saw the two lovebirds. He didn't want to get angry again. He had done enough pouting for the night. He opened the door, and subconsciously glared at Cartman's closed door. They were still at it. Wow. Stan could have sworn that he and Wendy never lasted that long together. He sighed. Maybe she IS better off…

He rushed past the forbidden door, trying hard to look at the other side of the hallway. He noticed that the bathroom door was shut tight too. Nobody was allowed upstairs, so he figured it was probably either Kenny or Paul. When he heard moans of ecstasy inside, he concluded that it had to be Kenny. He smiled and shook his head at the thought of his friend getting lucky in HIS bathroom. At least it wasn't HIS bedroom. He would have been pissed. But no, Kenny was a decent enough guy to know that it was off limits. He was just a whore.

Stan had to admit that sometimes even HE was jealous of Kenny and his ability to have girl after girl fall all over him. He had decided long ago that Kenny was very attractive—it was impossible not to notice. Kenny had always been good looking. Even when Stan and Wendy were in the peak of their relationship, she reminded him "how much of a hottie" Kenny was. Stan was angered by her casual remarks about his good friend, but she never seemed too serious in exploring that option. No, it was Cartman who she wished to be with all along.

Go figure.

No! Stan said to himself. I'm not going to think about her now. All he wanted to do was grab a beer and head back upstairs, where Kyle would be waiting for him. Kyle. His new obsession. He realized this about five minutes ago, and couldn't shake the feeling that was in the pit of his stomach. He had never looked at Kyle in any way other than his best friend. At least, he didn't think so…

Memories of his friend danced around in his mind as he made his way to the crowded keg. The party was still going strong, though some people were beginning to look increasingly tired. He looked at his watch. 1:19. He hadn't expected time to fly by so soon. He looked around the party to check out these so-called girls that were lined up to meet him. No one seemed to even care he was there. Stan smiled to himself, thinking that maybe these "girls" were really a metaphor for the one who has loved him all along. Could it be true? Did Kyle care more for him than what he led Stan to believe?

Stan finally reached the keg, pushing aside some random drunk girl who looked like she was going to fall on top of it. He didn't want to be around any of these childish imbeciles. It all made sense to him as he picked up a cup and filled it to the brim. It was a little foamy; signs that the keg was about dry. Here he had been spending his entire life with this guy whom he loved dearly, and he had never once thought that maybe there is something more there than just friendship. Maybe he was in love… Maybe he was lonely. Maybe he was just really, really drunk. Whatever it was, it caused Stan to smile at this thought. It made perfect sense.

He dodged the oncoming beer goers to retreat back upstairs. Back to him. It was only when he had shut the attic door and was ascending the steps that he realized he hadn't even looked (or cared) to see if Cartman's door was still closed. He had just blown right past it, eager to be near Kyle.

Kyle fumbled with a silver and green lighter. Stan had just sat down beside him, rather close he noticed, and leaned back into the couch. He had a cup of beer in one hand, and rested the other on his leg nearest to Kyle. Kyle leaned back beside him and lit up. Stan watched his friend as he inhaled all he could, holding it in for a few moments, and then gracefully breathing out the remaining smoke. He sat back with closed eyes and handed the bowl over to Stan. He took a big gulp of the still foamy beer before sitting it on the end table and accepting Kyle's gift. He too took in a big gulp of smoke before not-so-gracefully coughing it back out. He wasn't quite as skilled as Kyle. He looked over at his friend, who still had his eyes closed. Stan watched Kyle's lips curl up into a slight smile, and he breathed out. Stan wondered what he was thinking about.

"Dude, what are you thinking about?" he decided to ask.

Kyle's smile faded as he opened his eyes and looked back at Stan. He looked more than a little nervous. "Nothing," he replied hastily, shifting his positioning on the couch.

Stan raised his eyebrows. What was that about? He was already feeling the effects of Kyle's "special" weed. He handed the bowl back over to Kyle, and Kyle took another hit. A few minutes later, he took one more.

What seemed like hours later, Stan had lost track of how many hits he had taken. He knew it had to have been quite a few, because for every one Stan took, Kyle took twice that. And Stan was so completely high that he felt like he was floating. The room became increasingly three-dimensional. He peered over at Kyle, who was looking straight into his eyes. Whoa!

Awkward silence followed.

Eventually, Kyle was the first to speak. "Hey we should probably get back downstairs," he casually mentioned. Stan knew he was just saying it. He knew Kyle didn't want to go anywhere.

"Yeah alright," Stan replied, equally indifferent. He waited for Kyle to make the first move. There was another awkward silence as Stan sat still, waiting for his friend to get up first. They looked intently into each other's eyes, contemplating each other's thoughts. A few moments later, Kyle let out a sort of half smile and picked himself up off the couch.

He could definitely hear the party still raging downstairs as he treaded down the attic stairs. It had to be well past 2, he thought, and casually opened the thick base door. It creaked open, as if it had been barred shut for a thousand years. He could hear it above the music. He also heard giggles coming from the door to his left: Cartman's room. Still shut tight. Boy, Cartman would be bragging tomorrow. Kyle was about to nonchalantly pass the closed bathroom door when all of the sudden, someone opened the door. He smiled to himself when Kenny walked out, all dismantled and hair disheveled. His smile quickly faded when he watched Kenny's prey peek around the corner before leaving the same room. It was Geneva. She hadn't straightened herself up at all—they definitely had just had sex. Her hair was clearly in tangles, her shirt wrinkled and not even laying properly over her chest, and she leaned over to slip on one of her black heels when she caught sight of him. Kyle. The boy that she originally came to the party to see.

He could feel himself stop in mid-step, gaping at the pitiful excuse of a woman. His jaw dropped open, and he could feel his eyes start to water. His expression was cold and unforgiving. It took Kenny a minute to realize that Geneva, too, had stopped in her tracks, staring back at Kyle with a terrified deer-caught-in-headlights look plastered all over her face. He watched Kyle burn a hole through her eyes. Something was not right here.

Stan detected it too. Kyle's expression was too much for him. He was almost scared of the boy for the first time in his life. Suddenly, his expression softened, melting away to expose Kyle's apparent hurt. He immediately felt sorry for the guy. If he had known that Kenny was in there with a girl that Kyle possibly liked, he would have broken down the door. He didn't want his best friend to hurt. Hell, he knew Kenny wouldn't have gone in there in the first place. Why didn't Kyle tell anyone? Stan remained motionless, waiting for someone to break the tension.

"Kyle…I…" Geneva started. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Kenny's expression had turned to concern.

"Dude," he began. "If I would have known…"

Kyle shifted his focus to Kenny, narrowing his eyes a bit. "If you would have known," he muttered. "Why don't you try NOT fucking every girl in sight for once, Kenny?" Stan blinked twice at the out-of-character remark Kyle had just made. Was he really that mad when he was just hitting on Stan a few minutes before?

Kenny appeared hurt, but let it slide. "I'm sorry, man. I honestly didn't know."

Kyle glared at him. "Did she really mean anything to you? Or was she just another notch in your belt?" He was getting personal.

"Hey, dude. I'm sorry!" Kenny said, fighting the urge to throw insults back. He knew he was a bit easy, but he would never betray his friends like that. "You didn't tell me…You didn't tell me anything!"

Geneva was still staring at Kyle, waiting for his next move.

Kyle nodded once. "You're right, Kenny. Go downstairs. This does not concern you."

Kenny breathed a sigh of relief and did as he was told. Stan stood a few feet away from Kyle, petrified to move. Kyle had probably forgotten he was there.

"Now…YOU!" Kyle stated, returning his attention to the scared girl. His eyes narrowed even more, and he could feel his body temperature rise. "You SLUT!" he roared. She stood paralyzed. "What the hell were you doing with one of my BEST friends? Did you even stop to think about what this would do to ME!"

"I…I…"

"You WHAT! Why did you even come here? Was it to fuck a complete stranger? Cause you could have done that anywhere!" Kyle screamed, fighting back the tears. He moved in towards her as he spoke, flailing his arms about wildly. His voice lowered and he stood nearly a foot away from her. "Why did you have to come HERE to do it? Why did you have to show up at MY party to sleep with another guy?"

She was at such a loss for words, she began to cry. Uncontrollably.

"NOTHING you say can ever make me respect you ever again. You are a slut, and I don't feel sorry for you. Stop crying," he commanded. Stan had never seen his friend throw so many cruel words to someone so helpless and pathetic.

After a few minutes of Kyle watching her intently, Geneva gathered up enough strength to stop crying. "I'm so sorry, Kyle," was all she could muster. "I really am." For some odd reason, she appeared genuinely heartbroken. Kyle was a rock, though. His expression had turned cold once again, not revealing much emotion except for the harsh tone in his booming voice.

"Goodbye, Geneva," he said, detached

And with that, she walked quietly, almost jogging, to flee the terrible scene. He watched as she disappeared around the corner, and he heard the back door slam. Good riddens, he thought. Stan had been passive, almost too afraid to make a move in fear that Kyle would blow up on him. But when he saw the tenseness out of Kyle's shoulders leave, Stan hurried over and put a supporting hand on his back. "Dude," he said, appropriately. He felt Kyle jump at his touch—probably forgetting that he was there.

"I have a head ache," Kyle said, and without warning, disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came out, Stan was still in the same position. He walked over to Stan and stood extremely close. Stan could feel his hot breath on his face. "I want everyone out. I need peace and quiet," he muttered. Stan nodded, and went downstairs to start the process of kicking everyone out. He had to be there for Kyle, as Kyle had been there for him.

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Kenny felt sick as he trudged down the stairs. He hadn't wanted to cause any trouble—it wasn't his intention. He thought long and hard to recall the previous events of that night, trying to remember if Geneva had mentioned anything about the possibility of her and Kyle. His mind drew a blank. He had pretty much sobered up by that point, and all he wanted to do was play the new Playstation game he had noticed before the party had even started. It was still in its package. He didn't care what it was; he just wanted to forget the recent past.

The last thing Kenny wanted to be known as was a careless sexaholic. Sure, he enjoyed a good lay every now and then. Okay, more like every now. But he knew it and his friends should have known that he would NEVER jeopardize a friendship for some chick. It wasn't his style, and he disliked that Kyle had actually thought that.

It was one thing to rag on him for being poor, or being a ladies man, or being completely obsessed with video games…but to insult his integrity? Kenny was an upstanding friend, and his loyalty throughout the years is what made him such a great guy. He was hoping Kyle would apologize to him the next day.

In a flash, he watched Geneva run down the stairs and fly out the backdoor. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. It was obvious that she had made a mistake, but from the looks of it, Kyle wasn't going to let her live it down. Kenny just prayed that Kyle wished to be alone, rather than wait until no witnesses were present to bestow his wrath upon the Casanova. He plopped himself down on the couch, observing the party around him. Everyone was clueless as to the dramatic events that were unfolding around them, and for once, he wished he was some stupid drunk asshole that didn't give a shit about friends or life.

But that wasn't who Kenny McCormick was. He vowed to never become like that. To never become like his father.

He let out a long sigh and sunk into the comforts of the black leather couch. A guy was tongue wrestling with some poor innocent girl right beside him, and she looked desperate for air. Her face was ridden with slobbers. Oh, how he longed to teach the world of men how to treat a woman right. At least, make her feel right. His gaze was diverted to two obviously drunk girls at the now taken-over beer pong table. They looked so completely wasted, he thought, and smiled to himself. He didn't like to take advantage of girls like that. Yet, sure enough, two boys were pounding their fists on the table in an attempt to get the girls to take off their tops. Two minutes later, they gave in, and Kenny smiled in satisfaction.

He loved the female body since before he could remember. He was seven years old when he had stumbled upon his dad's stack of Playboys. And though it meant nothing to him at the time, he had been obsessed with breasts ever since. He bought his first porno when he was only eleven years old from a shady street character that needed twenty bucks. Kenny started up his personal collection when he was sixteen, taping over half of his partners and him in the act. One day, he would sell them for money.

His friends knew what a pervert he was, and at times, he got the feeling they kind of liked it. Especially Stan. It was a weird thought, but Kenny would make random comments or sometimes even grab Stan, and he would get the distinct feeling the kid was checking him out. It didn't bother him, though. If he were going to ever do it with a guy, Stan would probably be the best specimen. Not only was he a close friend, but he also had the looks to match Kenny's. Almost…

Stan was, in fact, hot. He had this jet-black hair that shined in just the right light. Throughout the years, he had experimented with styles, but he eventually settled upon a style similar to when he was littler, only with sideburns. His eyes only seemed to darken into deeper blue as the years passed, which made him appear just about as exotic as that Geneva girl. His olive-toned skin was a beautiful compliment to his striking features, and he by far had the best muscular build of any of Kenny's friends. He wasn't at all bulky, but his athletic body was always toned. He was just below 6', which made him the second tallest of the group.

Kenny smiled to himself, thinking about his friends. Cartman was the second shortest, registering in at a 5' 10'' stature, and probably around 230 pounds. It worked out perfectly since Wendy was above average girl height. Kenny closed his eyes and began to picture Wendy naked, as Cartman was probably seeing right now. His thoughts turned sour when he pictured a naked Cartman, suddenly getting the urge to vomit.

Kyle was the tallest of the group, surpassing 6' by a few inches. His curly red hair made him appear even taller, but Kenny liked it. Kyle was tall and skinny. Kenny was short and skinny. He wasn't much shorter than Cartman, but short enough that Cartman liked to make short jokes, in ADDITION to poor ones. He shook his head. No matter which way he looked at it, Cartman was still an asshole.

"Hey, Kyle wants this party cleared out," Stan said, interrupting Kenny's thoughts. "Will you help me?" Kenny looked into Stan's thoughtful eyes and nodded.

"Sure, dude," he replied. "Hey, is Kyle going to be okay?"

"I think so. He said he has a headache and wants everyone out. He says he wants to be alone, but I think I'm going to keep him company for a while. You know, cheer him up," Stan explained, in a pathetic attempt to cover why he really wanted to stay by Kyle. Kenny figured out a long time ago that Stan thought Kyle was great…in more ways than your run-of-the-mill friend. That's why it was so easy picturing Stan being the one to stick it to. He just wasn't sure if Stan had figured it out for himself yet.

"Alright, I'll let you two be alone then," Kenny smirked, knowing full well Stan didn't catch his perverted undertones. Stan just nodded gratefully, and pulled Kenny up off the couch.

They made their way over to the blasting stereo, and in one swift motion, Stan unplugged the cord from the wall. He knew that would get everyone's attention. Sure enough, a field of disgruntled faces and angry drunk people started to throw a fit.

"What the fuck!" Kenny heard someone yell. It was obvious that no one was going to leave peacefully.

"HEY GUYS!" Kenny yelled, attempting to make this situation much easier. "We just saw the cops patrolling outside, and I saw them stop right by THIS house!"

Sure enough, this was enough to cause a widespread panic, as most of the party was under legal drinking age. A few guys lighting up a joint in a secluded corner froze in shock. And before Kenny or Stan could say anymore, the living room, kitchen, back room, EVERYTHING…it was empty.

Stan chuckled. "Dude, you've done this before!" he noted. He slapped Kenny on the back in approval, and lowered himself to the couch.

Wow. Kenny looked around at the nothingness before he sighed in relief and took a seat beside him. They both surveyed the damage the party had caused. Beer cups were everywhere, most of them half full. The beer pong table looked like someone had thrown up on and around it, and for some reason, there were a bunch of dirty streamers matted down to the hardwood floor. The stench of beer rose within Kenny's nostrils, and he looked over at Stan. "Dude, this is going to suck big time," he acknowledged, waiting for Stan's response. Stan simply sighed.

The two sat in silence.

"Well, I'm going to go check on Kyle," Stan spoke, reluctant to break the peace and quiet. He sat up and leaned forward, toward the direction of the TV. "I'm not cleaning any of this shit up tonight, but you are more than welcomed to crash on the couch if you want. We bought a new game," he said thoughtfully, noticing Kenny's interested stare. "You can play it if you want."

"Hell yeah I want to!" Kenny energetically exclaimed. "Night, dude!" he said to Stan, who was already on his way upstairs to comfort his 'friend.' Kenny wondered if Kyle felt the same way about Stan, as he knew Stan felt about Kyle.

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