First class together: fail

Hallway: fail

Lunch: Failing

The noirette was starting to feel both defeated and angry at both himself and Kenny.

Why wouldn't the blond talk to him?! He just really wanted to have a nice chat with him, after telling him how fucking STUPID he was being. Rapping his fingers on the lunch table, his blue eyes searching the cafeteria for any sightings of orange.

Sure Kenny didn't have the usual fur lined hood, but he did wear a thick scarf of the same color. But he couldn't seem to spot the blond anywhere, not sitting with anybody nor by himself. He was nowhere to be seen in the cafeteria.

Searching the furthest recesses of his mind, he tried to figure out what else he could possibly do to reach out and hopefully talk to Kenny. He really missed the blonde, though not a single person knew what he was truly feeling inside.

Maybe he could write a note? Well, that would be pretty freaking gay wouldn't it? Not to mention that Kenny would probably ignore it. But it was a lot safer than the only other idea that ran through his mind.

Get himself in trouble and have Mysterion save him.

If it wasn't for the fact that he ignored everything else; texts, calls and even himself, he would never have even dreamt of doing such a thing.

The Kyle side of him, the side that had absorbed the red heads many, many rants of how their ideas were so 'God damn fucking stupid', was telling him just that.

But what else could he do?! Repeated over, and over, as he tried to rip the thoughts out with his short black hair.

All other manner of reaching out was failing and he apparently still LOVED being a fucking superhero. If he couldn't catch Kenny today, at all, he was going to have to resort to drastic measures. Though he figured he could attempt the note, no matter how gay it seemed.

Thankfully, Kyle and Cartman were in yet another shouting match, not looking at Stan as he pulled out a sheet of paper to quickly jot down a note for him. Something simple and to the point.

Ken,

We saw the article about you still being a superhero. Now, I'm really fucking worried for you and everything else that I guess is going on.

Can we please talk?

Stan

A few minutes were left before the lunch bell rang, so it wouldn't look weird for the jock to be leaving the room early. As he eased his way through the slowly forming crowd, he made his way to the empty hallway that housed both his and McCormicks' lockers.

What he wasn't expecting to be there, was Kenny, shutting his locker after grabbing his books.

"Ah, Kenny," a startled gasp escaping with those two words.

If the jump was anything to go by, Kenny was equally as surprised as he peeked over his shoulder with wide hazel eyes; a shade that Stan had almost forgotten existed.

The warmth of hope that had started to fill Stan as he took a step closer to the blonde was swiftly squashed as fast as it had started to build as Kenny turned and headed away down the hallway.

Defeat weighing heavy in his heart, crushing his lungs and dragging his shoulders down, Stan limply made his way to the abandoned locker and slipped the note into it through a grate. Shuffling the two steps to his locker and switching his books out after resting his forehead against the cool metal.

Toxic thoughts started to slither and creep into his mind, barely having the will to push them away as he eyed the water bottle in the corner.

He had been doing really well for the past week but this, all of this, had started to take its toll on him. He figured since this was the first time he'd be drinking at school for about a week, it wouldn't be a huge problem. Right?

As he shook, he caved and took a sip, the pleasant burn relaxing him to the bones.

Heading to the next class, ready to face the rest of the day with the pleasant buzz.

Once he was home, he looked at his phone after tossing things on his bed. The buzz had worn off by his last class and he really wanted to drink some more but he had other things to worry about. Like getting his algebra homework done and making himself dinner.

Sure, his father was home but when he had walked through the door, he had noticed that his father was already drunk off his ass.

A hard tremble ran down his spine, he really hoped that this didn't become like him; he wouldn't become like him.

Curling on his bed, he started to do his homework but the numbers and letters were blurring together. Tapping the pen on the books as he tried to focus but he just couldn't. With the looming night time trek coming to mind, he started to over think.

What if something happened and Mysterion wasn't there to protect him? What if he died and no one found him? What if Kenny just watched?

Fingers tangling in his hair, he tugged hard, trying to relieve the pressure that was building behind his eyes.

No, no crying. He didn't need to cry. Nope. Everything would be fine.

It would work out. It had to.

Slipping from his bed, Stan made his way downstairs, thinking food would help even if the stench of booze was strong due to his fathers' habits.

It was just a simple sandwich, but going through the motions was mind numbing enough that his mantra of 'its fine. It will be fine. Kenny would talk to him and things would go back to normal' finally sank in after the 50th time of repeating it.

And that's all for today folks. I cut it off here so it didn't drag on and on, so the next part should be up fairly quickly, though I do work around 6 days the next two weeks, so we'll have to see

Go ahead and check out my personal tumblr if you'd like at: themindoflore

Let me know what you think! I haven't written fanfiction in many, many years