It was nearly 10 pm when Stan finally made his way towards the west part of town, towards Skeeters bar where all the rowdy groups hung out.
"Man," Stan breathed nervously, starting to second guess his decision
Would Kenny actually save him? Would Kenny even be around this area this time of night?
Holding the jacket tight around him, he kept his eyes peeled as he walked, trying to stay on his toes. The street lights where dirty, barely letting off any light to illuminate the path and the moon was barely a crescent so it was no help either.
Cursing under his breath, Stan paused as he cast his shaky vision around. Bouncing in his worn out tennis shoes as he steeled his nerve; continuing on his way.
"Hey kid, you seem to know your way around this town," a sleazy voice sounding beside him, clamminess wrapping its way around him.
Instincts kicked in, jerking away and stumbling over the sloshy ground. "What the-" he stammered as the man snickered and walked firmly forward towards Stan.
"Want a job kid?" The man offered, Stan straightening and glaring at the foreign male.
"No," he stated firmly, the older male grabbing Stan by the jacket, his reach longer than anticipated and shoved him into the wall.
"Now I thought we could do this the easy way," he sneered, leaning close.
Tears pricked his eyes as his nose burned from the stench of cigarettes, alcohol and not brushing in God knows how long.
"Too bad," a sharp jab hit the older males side, sending him rocketing off to the other side with nails dragging against the poor noirettes neck.
"He said no," the raspy voice sounded as he stood in front of Stan, glowering at the hunched over, infuriated male.
"God-fuck," he cursed, stumbling away into the bar, probably getting his friends to come and back him up.
"Let's go," the gloved hand wrapped around Stans numb wrist and started a quick pace back the way Stan came.
The words were lodged somewhere between what he wanted to say and actually coming out, all he could do was stare at the back of the purple hood that somehow contained the messy blonde locks that he was sure still resided on top of the freckled, gap toothed male.
"You should be safe here," drew him from his thoughts and he looked around.
The road was far better lite than the one they met each other on, the rows of houses lining both sides informed him that he was in a more residential part of South Park.
It wasn't until his eyes landed on Butters house that he realized they were on his street.
"Oh, thank-" Mysterion was already walking away before Stan could thank him.
"Wait- for fuck, please wait," Stan cried, taking a step forward and reaching out, as if he would be able to physically make the smaller male stay and talk to him for once.
For once, Kenny actually paused, the blonde didn't say anything, but he wasn't running away.
Letting out a small breath, Stan straightened to his meager full height and fiddled with the hem of his jacket. "Can we talk?" He whispered softly, nibbling on his lip.
"About?" The cold voice was something he never once thought he'd ever hear.
"Whatever is bothering you? Why you left? Why you're ignoring me?" Stan rushed out and raised his eyes to look at Mysterion, who was still staring straight ahead.
"It's none of-" he started to say and Stan rushed ahead and grabbed at Mysterions' shoulder to turn him around. Instead, the smaller male pulled away and glared at Stan, straightening to glare at Stan.
"It's none of your concern," his tone icy to the ears.
"Yes, it is! You're my friend and I want to help however I can! I just-we thought you just needed space that's why we didn't stop you," Stan stumbled on the last sentence. "If I had even any idea that we'd end up like this, I would've tried harder!" voice warbling between octives as he barely got the words out.
"Good bye Stan," Kenny's voice unchanging and the sinking feeling of defeat lodging in his chest.
"I miss you Kenny," he whispered out, but let the faux superhero walk away.
