- Kenny -
It's been... about two weeks. I still can't believe it. I don't think any of us can believe it.
He lays in his bed, gazing up at the ceiling. 'Up all night' still playing on repeat on Spotify. His bereavement time ended earlier this week, and he's gone in, but..., his performance has suffered. He hasn't been able to shake himself out of it, to pretend. He wonders if Bebe has found her self again yet. A few days after their meeting, she had sent the group chat a message, asking if anyone wanted to help her run her new pages. Kenny had declined, but knew Stan's friend Pete had accepted, saying he was kind of an okay photographer if someone could just add text over them as he wasn't sure how to do that. Bebe said she would do that and once they were done she would post them in the chat for whomever to post them. Craig, surprisingly, had also accepted a mod position. Tweek also accepted, saying that he had some drawings that could be edited like Pete's photos. They were more conversations, but Kenny stopped looking at his phone.
He had to go to work, put on his happy face.
"Hey Cortana," he yelled to his xbox. It made the noise indicating it was ready, "Play happy song." It made another noise and soon that song began to play instead. He chuckled to himself and went for his shower and shave, things he had been neglecting.
Once finished, he dressed in faded blue jeans that hung off his frame and a bright orange collared shirt that buttoned up, after which he towel dried his hair some more before taking a comb through it. It hung in his eyes, just the way he liked.
He turned the xbox and tv off and grabbed a light orange jacket as he stuffed his feet into his boots. He pulled the jacket on as he locked the door on his way out of his place. He had about an hour or less until he had to be at work, so he figured he would get a coffee first. Surprisingly or maybe not..., Tweek still wasn't at the register, but he ordered his usual and paid, paying little attention to whatever Mr. Tweak was saying.
He wandered slowly to his job, sipping his coffee.
The blond hadn't been sleeping well since news of Wendy broke. But he trudged on, he needed to work and make money.
Standing outside the call center, he took a deep breath and then plastered the big smile on his face and went in. He greeted his coworkers and made bright small talk, before finding his way to his desk and settling in for the next five hours before lunch.
The bullshit came easy to him. just like it always had. Lunch time rolled around and he took his headset off and wandered to the cafeteria area, he had forgotten his lunch today, so it looked like vending machine food. He checked his wallet, finding a few dollars, he didn't usually carry cash, but the vending machines weren't the newer ones, that took cards. He grabbed a bag of cookies and a can of soda, before finding a table and sitting down with his meager, but tasty lunch. He opened his phone and the messenger to see loads of missed things.
He scrolled through as he slowly ate, most of it was about running the pages. Butters also volunteered to make the FB posts, saying it would give him something to do when he was low on work, saying he would schedule them so the others could look at them and let him know if they needed editing. As he scrolled further, he saw Craig posted a question to the group,
"Is getting high as a way to stop thinking about something bad?"
No one else had seen the message yet, and Kenny considered it before typing a reply, "It really depends, like..., do you ever think about it sober? Like really think about why you want to avoid it and why you want to escape it? I mean, I don't party anymore, but I used to use that stuff to escape. I wanted to have nothing but a good time, you know? It got old eventually, and I faced reality, I accepted things I couldn't change. I hope that helps dude."
He hit send and stared at the words he had just typed. He hadn't really told anyone, apart from his blog, about all of that.
Death really changes people, he snorted, before returning more actively to his lunch. The break would be over soon.
The rest of the work day was uneventful and he left with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Breathing in the crisp turning to fall air. He looked both ways before he crossed the street, it was too bad though, a semi seemingly materialized and sent him flying, bones crushed and his head smacked the asphalt hard, black spots danced across his vision as he felt blood pooling around his head and from one of his legs.
He sighed before the familiar darkness took him.
And then he was sitting in a chair across from Damien, Satan's son.
"Welcome back," the prince said without looking up from his paperwork.
"Thanks," Kenny muttered sarcastically.
He slouched in the chair thinking, he knew the answer would probably be no, but he figured he was the only one that could ask and come back.
"Is Wendy here?" He finally asked, not looking at Damien.
The shuffling of paperwork stopped, he felt Damien's red eyes burning into him. "You know, better than anyone, that's against the rules."
"I know," he said softly.
"But you had to try didn't you?"
His tone is only lightly mocking, it could be worse.
Kenny doesn't answer, he just stares at his shoes.
Damien sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair. "I know why you asked, but you had to know I can't tell you anything. This self-torture is pointless."
"I know."
Damien doesn't look surprised or empathetic or at the blond with pity, he regards him coldly.
Eventually, Kenny wakes back up in his bed, he digs in his pockets for his phone, illuminating it. It's the following morning. He has just enough time to get dressed and get to work.
Loads of messages await him on his lunch break though, more discussion of the page and the week's meeting. It's decided it will be friday night, meet at Tweek Bros close to closing time and then to Butters' house. Kenny sends that he'll attend and then resumes reading the rest of the messages he's missed. Eventually clicking on the new pages Bebe made. The posts are nice. Who knew Craig Tucker could write deeply? That Pete guy also wrote a few posts, but he was mostly the instagram guy along with Tweek, their combined art skills had netted the instagram page numerous follows.
He wasn't sure if he was ready for their first meeting. He wasn't sure what they were going to do.
His lunch break ended and he returned to work.
As the day ended, Kenny went to Tweek Bros for some coffee. He ordered his usual from Tweek who had larger than usual bags under his eyes but he was at work again, so he must have been somewhat better. He thanked him and then went to sit in a booth and drink his coffee. As the hours wore on and the customers slowed, Tweek eventually came to sit with him.
It was a nice silence, but eventually, Tweek broke it. "It's weird. To return to my life like nothing happened."
"I know what you mean," Kenny smiled grimly.
"I try not to think about it." Tweek twitches, not looking at Kenny.
"Sometimes, it's better if you don't."
Silence follows his words and eventually, Tweek has to get up to get Stan a coffee, he raises a hand to Kenny before he's gone.
Kenny sits in the booth, thinking, considering.
Soon, it's closing time, and Kenny offers to walk Tweek home, the other blond accepts and they walk in a companionable silence. Once at Tweek's door, Kenny makes his decision and says, "Talk to Craig. He's got something important to tell you."
Tweek looks at him with large eyes, and Kenny quickly says, "It's not bad. I just..., I don't know if he's ready to tell you. I think he is, he's just scared."
"Craig? Scared?" Tweek is surprised.
"Yeah..., something scares everyone, even if they're not open about it." And with that, Kenny waves goodbye and continue to his apartment.
Once inside, he goes for a shower and once out, pulls on some gray sweats and goes to sit on the couch, turning on his xbox and putting hulu on with Futurama playing. Eventually, he gets up and makes himself something for dinner, sitting on the couch to eat and watch the show. Soon, he's dozing with the plat in his lap and he jolts himself awake to put the plate in the sink and go to his bed. He plugs his phone in and lays down, closing his eyes, soon he's asleep but his dreams are filled with visions of hell and Wendy being stuck there.