All he wanted to do was drink.
And not just drink, but drink until he blacked out.
Shivering as he entered his unwelcoming home, the lingering stench made it that much harder to ignore the screaming in his veins.
The ache to dull the crushing depression with the disgustingly pleasant burn of alcohol.
He went back upstairs and sat n his bed, drawing his knees to his chest and giving in. Hiccupping as he just let it out.
At some point he fell asleep, awakening with a heavy groan from the poor position he had passed out in.
As he pressed the heels of his hands against his sore eyes, he rubbed them gently before seeing it was 3 am. On his phone were a few messaged from Kyle, bitching about Cartman as usual and the same from Cartman.
And one from an unknown number with a single question.
'Safe?'
It took a few seconds for the short circuiting to catch up to what it meant before he nervously sent back something. Preparing himself to never hear from him again.
"Yeah, I'm safe. Thank you."
He normally wasn't one to type out full words, but this wasn't just any other occurrence. Tossing his phone onto the nightstand, he went to get changed, washing his face and brushing his teeth before heading back in and finding his notification light flashing.
Again, it was from the suspected male number, against with the one word answer.
'Good.'
While it was more than what he had expected, it wasn't anything life changing either.
And the little care cut deeply.
His thoughts already dark and depressive; twisted towards the vindictive blade.
Going over to his bookcase, he knelt down and reached towards the back corner, pulling out a small bronze flask.
Uncapping, he let the sharp liquid splash down his throat in a few hearty gulps before flopping back onto his bed. The buzz building swiftly and blocking his judgement.
Looking at the phone and 2 messages, he decided to respond. 'Qjy di y u Kikre?'
While it didn't make hardly any sense to its receiver, for a long time, it made perfect sense to the drunk sender.
Why didn't Kenny like him anymore?
Stan woke the next morning with a headache, but instead of taking the medication to shoo it away, or for his depression, he picked up the bottle in his nightstand and took another long swig.
It wouldn't get him drunk, but it did add a pleasant buzz to deal with his day.
All through the rest of the mundane routine, not once did he check his phone. The pulsating 4 messages begging to be checked were ignored in favor of going to the bus stop.
"Hey Kyle," Stan cheerfully greeted, both the red head and brunette looked over, Carman blowing him off but Kyle knew something was off.
"Hey Stan, how're you doing?" He asked timidly, shifting nervously as he looked at the noirette full on.
"Not too bad, you?" the Jew frowned more, firmly stepping forward and liftting the smaller up to smell his breath.
"Whoa-"
"You're drunk," he stated firmly.
"Buzzed," Stan corrected, as if that would make much of a difference.
"You promised," he whined weakly, dropping his hands; a defeated sigh escaping his lips.
"You don't know what happened," Stan quipped back, huffing some when familiar, though they hadn't been heard in a while, footfalls crunched through the snow.
Turning around, the bright orange scarf was wrapped tight around Kenny's' face, blue eyes pierced Stan's' above the hunched shoulders.
"Ken?" The buzzed teen breathed as the towering duo males stared surprised.
The blonde didn't respond, just took his old spot beside Stan, pulling out his phone and started scrolling through some random internet site.
Tears unwilling fell from Stan's eyes, who hurriedly wiped them away. It wasn't unseen by Cartman who just had to make a rude comment about it. "Dude, no need to be so damn gay about him joining us."
Which got him the obligatory elbow in the side and the duo got into it, yet again.
Ignoring the duo, when San realized that Kenny was on his phone, he realized he hadn't checked his own.
Pulling out his own phone, he saw he had six unread texts and opened them. One was from Kyle, again bitching about something, this time it was about his mother, but the other 5 were from the unknown number, though it was safe to assume it was Kenny.
'What?'
"Are you drunk? You're at least home right?'
'Look, I'm going out on a limb here about what you're saying. And it's a long ass story, and I thought at least you'd understand more than the other guys. You always understood me more than the other guys, especially Cartman, more than they ever could. I don't hate you…but I'm tired of being invisible.'
Those were all from last night.
'are you alright Stan? I'm really worried about you. If you don't answer I'm going to show up and give you so much hell if you're hung over.'
He had to snort at that, what if he didn't respond and was sober?
Well, the message that instigated all this made that impossible.
He felt it was time to respond, even if it was late. 'You're cute when you're worried,' he glanced over to see that Kennys ears tinted pink.
'You're an ass. I barely slept worrying about you. But we're talking. Lunch, by the gym.'
Flinching a bit, the playful smile dropped when his stomach knotted.
'Alright. You talk. Tell me what we did wrong and I'll listen,' he corrected, barely hearing Kenny sigh.
"I missed you too," was barely caught above the wind.
Can I just say that I hate people who quit their jobs without a 2 week notice?
We had 2 people do that within a month; hence why this update took me so long. I've been working overtime for nearly 2 weeks; one shift was a 12 hour one (and I'm only suppose to work 8).
But here we go, things are picking up and soon I'll have chapter 5 out.
