A/N: Hi! I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed! I'm glad you like the story.

On another note, Thank you, guest reviewer, for pointing out the "his/her" mistakes. I can't reply privately because the site only lets me do so if they're logged in. But I appreciated your review so much! I'm sorry for any pronoun mistakes; my fingers sometimes get confused when changing from Kenny and Wendy's POV hehe. I'm constantly looking for spelling/grammar mistakes, so I'm sorry if you find any. I don't have a beta, so if anyone's interested, my dms are open :)

Enjoy!

"When are you seeing this girl, Wendy, again?'" Karen asked curiously over dinner. She'd done giving him the silent treatment and, with resignation, accepted that it was inevitable that Kenny would go out again. After all, Kenny was bound to go out again, and it was better to know about his whereabouts than just wait in the dark. For the time being, Kenny also accepted Wendy as her companion and promised to stick to easy, mundane tasks just to keep her and Karen happy. He'd have to figure out later how he could deal with the dirty job afterward.

Kenny picked on his instant mac & cheese and bit his cheek. It was just the two of them as usual; his brother Kevin mostly lived with his friend, who was just as poor as them. He was nearing twenty-one, and he'd long thrown away any illusion in Kenny's mind about being better than their parents. Instead, he turned out to be the same addict, white trash as the man who birthed Kenny. If Kenny thought hard about it, he'd say he was turning worse than him. He'd already gone to juvie and jail three times, and Kenny could bet the few belongings he had that Kevin was doing some nefarious shit with his so-called friend "Mark." They'd already caught their parents with a meth lab before; Kenny didn't doubt for a second it had given Kevin some ideas.

"We're playing at Skeeter's tomorrow, so I guess I'll see her then. You're invited too – I doubt he'll have any trouble about you coming."

"Maybe. I dunno, though." She said as she picked up her plate and put it in the sink. "There's this poem thingy Michael invited us to, and they don't do that many events like this one, so it's kinda a big thing. Maybe after it's over, we'll drop by." She shrugged her shoulders,

"Sure," Kenny nodded, his mouth full with the last of his mac & cheese.

He skated to school, feeling the cool air breeze of late April against his cheeks. Public transport was way too expensive for Kenny to do it daily, and his house wasn't as far from his school to be able to skate there. It had been one of his brother's few "gifs" he'd appreciated. Kenny knew it was wrong to keep a stolen skateboard, but it took him to places, and he guessed it didn't harm anyone. Kenny was against the putrid capital system, but he wasn't as reckless as to break the law. So as long as they wouldn't trace it back to him, Kenny appreciated it when his brother brought him and Karen "gifts." It was rare, and it didn't take away the fact Kenny despised his brother as much as his father and mother, but Kenny didn't complain either.

"Do you know what you'll wear to prom?" Butters casually asked him, and Kenny gave him a questioning look.

"Prom?" Butters nodded as if the question was obvious, and Kenny closed his eyes. Of course, prom. Kenny could care less about prom. In fact, he didn't give a flying fuck about the event. He'd completely forgotten about it, and given recent events, he had even less time to think about what he would fucking wear to the goddamned night.

"Do you think the broke hippie here has any money to buy a suit?" Cartman sneered, and Kenny gave him the middle finger. Yes, he was poor, and yes, he probably couldn't spend a dime on new clothing. But Kenny had been working at a local grocery store for a year now, and if Kenny desired, he could spend all his savings on the best-looking suit if he wanted. But that would be stupid and reckless; he was saving to get himself and Karen out of that shithole.

"Shut up, fat-ass; you don't even have a date, so I don't know why you bother going," Kyle interjected in Kenny's defense, and Eric's ears turned pink.

"Hey! Shut it, jew! I don't need a date to go. None of this bitches here deserve me." Cartman said arrogantly.

"Sure, whatever you say." The redhead rolled his yes.

"And who are you going with? Have you and Stan finally declared your love for one another and decided to nominate yourselves for King and Queen?" He jabbed with malice, and Kyle's eyes went wide as plates while Stan merely frowned. Uh-oh.

Before Kyle could explode and Stan started firing questions out in the open, Kenny said, "You're right, Cartman. I'm poor and don't have the money to buy a suit. There happy? I don't even know if I'll go to prom, honestly. There's no one there that'd be of interest to me." That was a big, fat lie, and Kenny knew it. He longed to see Wendy in a long dress, see her all dolled up and pretty, but it wasn't as if he could invite her to prom.

"I can give you one of my old suits, Ken," Kyle said sympathetically.

"You might be my size, Kenny. I'll see if I can lend you one of mine. My mom got too excited when we saw The Swan Lake and bought too many suits." Butters smiled at Kenny and nodded with gratitude to both of his friends. Kyle was the tallest of the bunch at 6'4, followed by Cartman, who was 6'3, and Stan 6'1, and while Butters was shorter than Kenny, he might be closer in size to him than Kyle. Kenny wasn't short but knew being 5'10 wasn't a big thing. He considered himself to be average at best.

He promised to pass by his friend's houses later in the week to try on their suits. He seriously didn't want to go to prom, regardless if he had an attire to wear, but Kenny knew it'd be weird if he didn't go. It'd be their last prom, their last school event where they could pretend they weren't all damaged and were happy, normal teenagers.

After lunch, he passed Wendy in the hallway, and she said with a wink, "See you at Skeeter's later!" Kenny's heartbeat stopped for a second when she did it. Her sweet, amber perfume invaded his nostrils, and her long, straight-black, lustrous hair brushed his arm. It was intoxicating. Kenny quickly recovered and grinned at her in return. She turned her head and continued walking, but Kenny could've sworn he saw the beginnings of a blush on her when he did that.

Maybe Wendy was off-limits. Perhaps, even if Stan didn't show any remaining feelings towards her, he would still fuck him up if he dared to touch her. Maybe it was forbidden. But Kenny decided he won't deny himself the small pleasures of making her blush whenever he could or steal a smile or two from her. Maybe he wasn't allowed to, but he had enough on his plate, and Kenny wanted to believe in small mercies. She was playing at it, too, if Kenny thought about it. She knew what she was doing, and Kenny didn't know if she was serious or just playing with him. As pathetic as it sounded, Kenny was touch starved to the point he didn't care.

The place was empty when the boys arrived. They began setting up their instruments on the small wooden platform at the end of the bar. Friday's were usually the busiest days, and they loved to play there; Skeeter would end up convinced into drinking into oblivion with some customers, and he'd let the boys freely drink after their presentation ended. No one noticed, and no one said anything. The only one who had to go early was Butters, but Jimmy would generally stay with Stan and Kenny and drink a beer or two before leaving. Kyle was always there, too. He'd always stay with them until the end of the night. Kyle couldn't drink as much as them, but he still made them company and would steal a sip or two from Stan's beer. Friday nights usually ended in Kyle having to drive Stan back home and crashing at his place.

Before they broke up, Wendy would usually stay and keep Stan company until the end of the night, and Kenny was always nervous when she was around. With alcohol in his system, Kenny couldn't fully trust himself to be around her and fuck things up. But now that she and Stan broke up, her visits were less often, and she'd leave with Bebe after a while.

Kenny's fingers pricked with the drawbolts as he opened his case when he heard the backdoor creak and saw Wendy enter. She wore a straight, short jean dress, a long-sleeved white turtleneck top, and her red beret. All in all, Wendy knew how to dress when she wanted to. She looked fucking hot.

"Oh hey, Kenny," She innocently said and went to sit on the old couch in the room. She sat right in front of where Kenny was crouching, and he gulped. "Hey Wendy," His eyes were on the floor, and he quickly took the bass and stood up, refraining from looking at the gap between her legs.

His cheeks were flushed, and he frowned when he saw her devilish smile. Of course she'd done it on purpose. She loved teasing him. Kenny rolled his eyes as he sat next to her and began tuning his bass. "I was wondering if you were free later in the night to do some exploration." She casually said, and scooted closer to him. Kenny could feel the heat of her body, their legs inches apart, making his left thigh tingle. He tried to keep it cool, acting as if it didn't affect him, and shook his head. "Can't tonight. It's Friday, and tonight is booze night." He didn't look up from his bass, and as he tuned it he heard a small "Oh." coming from her.

She raised her voice, "I can do with a little booze," She grinned from ear to ear, and Kenny stopped tuning his bass. She was smiling vibrantly, and Kenny felt perplexed by her. What was she playing at?

"You want to stay tonight? But won't Stan-"

"-Oh what does it matter what Stan says? It's not like he owns me or something. He'll be too busy with Kyle anyway. Besides, we're friends! I'm friends with you too, aren't I?" She gave him puppy eyes, and Kenny sighed. If Karen were there, she'd laugh at how whipped Wendy had him.

"If Stan asks, please tell him this was your idea." He said, and she nodded, closing her eyes. "Of course."

Things were starting to blurry, and Kenny felt the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest as he drowned his drink. He enjoyed getting drunk. His wavering smile grew as the feeling of wallowing in self-pity faded – the restless shiver at the nape of his neck disappearing for a couple of hours.

"H-Hey man, g-great gig tonight, huh?" Jimmy told him, the alcohol making his stutter return. Kenny grinned at him. It had been a great night. No one messed up any chords, the public was receptive, and Wendy's eyes were on him for the entire show. "One of the best, I'd say."

Even Kyle, who zealously tried to keep Stan's attention from Wendy, seemed to be enjoying himself. Kenny hoped he'd grow the balls and say something to his oblivious super-best friend. With a beer on hand, his blush was visible in the dim light when Stan whispered something in his ear. It almost seemed as if Kyle's good humor was greater than his need to hide his feelings and his urge to keep tabs on Wendy's every movement. It was strange for his nature, but Kyle was relaxed, and even if he couldn't see it for himself, Stan had eyes only for him.

Kenny didn't want to think about his future, friends, or family… he just wished the alcohol would numb everything for a little while and wash away his fears and consciousness. But instead, he found that drinking blackout was almost like dying — only less painful. A half-empty bottle of whiskey was sitting on the counter, and without asking for permission, Kenny snatched it and silently made his way towards the backdoor leading to the room behind the counter.

It was quieter, the muffled sounds of the bar barely recognizable, and it was dark. Kenny didn't bother to turn on the light and sloshed the brown liquor he had on hand. Falling asleep right there and then didn't seem like a bad idea; after all, he could still message Karen and let her know he was alright without her thinking he'd died again. Kenny chuckled. If he drank enough, maybe he could die, after all, he thought.

The door slowly opened, and the light from the bar illuminated Kenny, the harsh sounds of belly laughter and loud voices amplified for a moment before the door closed again. It was Wendy.

"'Sup?" Kenny slurred, too drunk to keep her away. He didn't want her to see him like this, in this state, but he also craved her attention, craved her stare on him.

"You're drunk" She giggled and staggered towards him. He wasn't the only one drunk, it seemed. She fell beside him, her head reclining against the couch's backrest. Her eyes were on Kenny. He faced the white popcorn ceiling and closed his eyes before the roof could move too much. He was blasted.

"It doesn't look like I'm the only one," Kenny commented with a laugh, his pinky intertwining with hers. She giggled and shook her head. "I didn't even drink that much, but the pill…" She laughed, leaving her sentence hanging.

Something was off, Kenny realized. Pill, What pill? He tried to think straight, but his thoughts fogged, and he decided to discard the idea. He could worry about any pills later. He was sure it was nothing.

"What did you think about our presentation?" Kenny didn't know what to talk about with her. His brain flooded with endless topics and conversations he wished to have with her. Everything could be a possibility, a wild card that could turn out to be the best decision of his life or a mistake he'll forever regret.

"You did good, Ken. You have potential." She almost looked sober for a moment. "I mean it." The yellow light of the lamp post outside the bar made its way through the old vinyl horizontal white blinds and illuminated her brown eyes. They were shiny from the alcohol and something else, Kenny assumed. The darkness in the room made her pupils big, and as Kenny breathed, he couldn't stop looking into them.

They called him in, trying to trap him in a magic spell. The enchanted cage was comfortable and cozy; it had everything Kenny could ever ask for. He couldn't ask for anything more or anything less. Her eyes told him a thousand stories about him, his past, and about them. He felt safe.

Kenny gulped and licked his lips. He was facing Wendy now, and she'd turned half her body towards him, her teeth grasping her lower lip – there was determination in her stare. "Why did you come here? I'm here, wallowing in my drunkenness, while there's a party going on there."

"But I wanted to be here with you." She stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, but why?"

"Why indeed." She scooted closer to him, her slanted eyes inspecting his face. It wasn't common for her to be so close to him. He found her brown eyes adorable.

"I like you, Kenny." She licked her lips, and Kenny's blood pulsed in his neck. Her wine breath smelled sweet and inviting.

"But won't Stan-" "You worry too much about Stan." She interrupted. She was practically on Kenny now, her leg rubbed against him, and her face was close enough for Kenny to steal a kiss if he wanted.

"I don't give a fuck about what Stan or anyone thinks," It was the last thing she said before Kenny grabbed the nape of her neck and smashed his lips against hers. It was the answer he was looking for, longing for.

He promised himself he wouldn't make a move unless she did, but given their drunken state, Kenny could make exceptions. He had been on good behavior all night and tried to keep his distance from her. He even went out of his way and closed himself in the adjacent room to drink alone, unbothered, to prevent any slip-ups.

But she had gone looking for him. She'd gone looking for him and was now sitting on his lap, kissing the life out of him. He tasted her hot tongue against his and bit her lower lip as his hand went up her leg. She moaned, and it was music for his ears. He wanted to hear more of them, feel all of her flesh against his, without the raspy fabric of clothing between them.

Kenny knew they could've done much worse if left entirely alone, but he was secretly relieved they were interrupted by a sharp noise from the bar. He didn't know how long it'd gone by, but he and Wendy looked utterly disheveled. Kenny smiled wickedly at her messy hair and wrinkled dress, and he tried to keep his boner down at the pulsing tingle on his neck. She was a biter, Kenny found, and he had to fight with all his restraint to keep himself from throwing himself at her and fuck her. It wasn't the right moment. They were both pretty drunk, and Kenny wanted to do things right with her. She was worth it.

That night, Kenny slept better than most nights, and without the sober guilt watching over him, he dreamt of a certain black-haired girl and a future he secretly wished was true.

A/N: See you next week!