A/N: Hey guys! I'm so, so sorry I haven't updated in forever! I hope you can forgive this heartless soul. So I don't own South Park, please enjoy! /I also don't own Die Hard and have not seen it, I just came up with that on the spot/

**Also: so apparently you cannot cross through words on this site so it was originally "fearing(crossed through) feeling, as if the boys marked the word out of their heads, but instead I had to use "fearing...no, feeling" as if they were changing their minds of what they felt basically. I just wanted to explain that just in case it was confusing. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Feeling

The weekend seemed to fly by for every teen of South Park. They dreaded the next eight hours they would have to endure for the next five days. Though they would endure it with no less than a fake smile and a bag of ten pound books weighing them all down until the day they are diagnosed with scoliosis and maybe even after that. Scoliosis seemed to be the least of their problems though, what with boy/girlfriends, period cramps, acne, and the seemingly eternal railroad tracks that were glued to the golden teeth of many proud and active 'emo' pubescents.

The boys, Stan, Kenny, Kyle, and Eric, all set their alarms at different times. The bus arrived at their shared stop at around 7 am each day, which was:

"Too Early." According to Kyle.

"Not enough time." says Stan.

"Dumb as hell." Kenny declares.

Cartman: "Hella Lame."

Stan set his alarm at 6 am, no sooner and no later. He woke up, choked down a glass of water and/or caffeinated tea depending on the amount of awake he was, and got right to work. Not on homework, not on an almost mid-morning nap, but on the two hundred and four sit-ups he commanded himself to each morning. And not mention the two hundred one squats and ninety-nine lunges. It was a miracle he was able to even crawl to the bus stop, and a lot less of a miracle that neither his abs nor muscles busted through his shirt as they had been eaten up by his starved metabolism.

Kyle set his alarm to exactly five thirty. He had not hit the snooze button in three years and he wasn't going to start anytime soon. He downed a quick cup of low-fat yogurt (60 is how Stan remembers it) each morning, studies for an uninterrupted hour, 'forgets' his lunch, and walks calmly to the bus stop, hands in his pockets, waiting ten minutes for his friends to show up given that he arrives at least twenty minutes early to the stop every day.

"You never know when she might be early." he justified, knowing their crooked bus driver had a schedule of her own that seemed to shift each day.

Eric set an alarm for six forty-five, however he usually punched the snooze button on his phone until finally rolling off his bed at six fifty-eight and hopefully changing his shirt before stumbling out the door, trying to avoid Clyde, Hailey and their father on his way.

Kenny would sometimes set an alarm, though it wouldn't make a difference. Usually it just startled him and made his heart beat against his chest until realizing it was just the alarm. He would then push himself off of his ratty mattress, not needing to rub any sleep from the nearly purple bags that drooped under his eyes. It had been three days and seven hours since Kenny had been able to shut his eyes and actually fall asleep and it had been exactly seven years and three months since he had been able to get a good night sleep without jerking up and fighting back the mental pain that demanded to be felt.

Though, he continued to survive and would then stumble out his house trying to fight the ensuing demons that came closer and closer and closer and closer.

Today was no different from their usual routine. Stan woke up to his inhumane workout, Kyle threw the yogurt back and buried his head in a physics textbook, Eric hit the snooze button and Kenny sat in his bed, eyes feeling puffy and burning as he rubbed them both and moved in front of a mirror after stealing some of his mother's facial concealer. He smeared it on to cover the purple and change it back to the pale while his freckles rested upon and practiced a smirk in the mirror, all while trying his best to ignore the flying blurs that pulled at the golden hairs on his head.

Kenny then pulled on his orange hoodie, making sure to pull the sleeves down all the way, and did the same with his faded jeans. He then pushed himself out the door with Kevin following behind. Since what had happened on Friday night, Kenny had tried his best to ignore Kevin and his continuous questions and Kevin had finally decided to accept this. The older brother decided that, while it was worth his time, he was not going to get an answer out of the stubborn blondie.

Kenny and Kevin then walk to the bus stop where Kyle, Stan, and Shelly are already waiting. It's 6:50 and they are all anticipating Eric to be late.

"Hey Kenny." Kyle greeted, remembering to acknowledge the older brother as well. "Kevin."

Kevin only nods back before he starts a conversation with Shelly, as Kenny stars one with his friends.

"How's it going?" Kenny asks, fixing his hood over his head and hoping he wouldn't have to pull it off today. He knew the teachers would fight him on it but Kenny was optimistic about keeping his hood on. He liked to say that blondes don't start wars, but they can finish them.

"Not terrible." Kyle smirks, his voice cracking a bit due to a sore throat.

Stan shrugs, a smile plastered on his tired, colorless, and dull-eyed face. "Okay."

Long silences had become more prevalent between the boys. During each long eternity, Stan would play with his shirt, fearing...no, feeling that it was tight around his body. Kyle would try to push the ginger curls cascading from his hat back under it and run his tongue over his yellowing teeth fearing...no, feeling that one, or all, would soon fall out. Kenny would pull at his sleeves fearing...no, feeling that they were never long enough.

This silent eternity was luckily interrupted by Eric, who came stumbling along fearing...no, feeling that the ground was shaking beneath him.

"Hey, losers." He greets, a large and puffy arm bending to wave.

"Hey, fatass." Kyle jeers and pokes him with his elbow as the bus comes around the corner and slows to a stop in front of them.

"Hey, jew." He retaliated, still in too sleepy a mood to think of a more insulting thing to say.

They sat in rows of three, Kyle and Stan in the first, Eric in the second, and Kenny in the last. He pushed a bud into one of his ears hidden behind his hood and blasted loud, wordless rock into his drums as he watched his friends interact and the world around go blurry.

Stan blushed as Kyle talked and Eric snarled in an amused manner as he teased the Jew of his anecdote. Eric then began to boast of some deal he had gotten at Walmart last weekend, three copies of the first Die Hard movie for $5.99. Kenny wondered why he would three copies of the same movie, or why he would even want one copy of that movie.

He felt Kevin tap the back of his head during his own anecdote about the bar scene on Friday. Bebe's older brother Beck hadn't been there, due to a contagious virus that was going around and that Stan and Kenny had already caught twice, so Kevin was trying to fill him in on what he had missed.

"It was great, Beck!" Kevin exclaimed, his unshaved face smirked though his tired eyes couldn't yet express the same emotion. "This little goofball has got some singing skills."

"No kidding." Hailey agreed, smiling. "You ever think of going pro, Ken?"

Kenny just smiled at her, feeling his face heat up and his freckles duck under the pink as he shrugged a bit.

"Maybe one day, huh?" Kevin rhetorically asked towards him, reaching down to rub his back for a moment before they turned back to themselves and Kenny back to his group.

As Kenny felt himself let his eyes shut, he nodded to himself. Yeah, maybe one day he would go pro. People would know his name. People would love him. No one would care about his past, what he had done and what had been done to him. Fans don't ask questions. Well, they do though they get fake, sugar coated answers as the stars look back at their childhood through rose-colored lenses. Most of the teens and adults of South Park did that in reality, that's why no one ever noticed red flags.

Kenny turned up his music, drowning out the rest of the world as he pushed the other bud into his ear. He nodded his head awkwardly, wanted to softly move to the beat though his body wanted to rock out and shake his hair around and pop up in the seat and bounce and bend his entire body. He tapped on his thigh but he wanted to slap the beat on his knees and make up his own words to the beat that continued in his head. He tapped his foot, worn out boot hardly making a sound, but he wanted to jump, jump, jump, and make only sound. So much sound that people had to notice him. He wanted people to join in and have fun with him. If music was made to bring emotion, happiness and sadness and love and realization, was it not made to bring people together, too?

Kenny then wondered if maybe it was better to be isolated. Less questions, less worry, less having to impress others with a fake personality and existence. No one to hurt him or judge him. No one to take away his destructive vices and stop him from being him.

Kenny then pulled his buds from his ears by the cord and pushed them into his pocket with his cellphone and sat against the seat until standing with his friends when the bus came to a stop.

"Come on, Kenny!" Stan gave a tired smirk as Eric tripped over Kyle, who bent over to pick up his dropped sports bag.

"Damn Jew..." He mumbled, peeling chewed gum from the knee that hit the bus floor.

Kyle just rolled his eyes and the three of the boys followed Stan off of the vehicle. When Kenny's boot covered feet hit the liquid ground, he saw the world begin to melt. Colors that others didn't see began to blend and he felt his hair being yanked out and his feet were pulled along by tall giraffes that were the color of the sky. Kenny smiled and looked up and swerved a bit before running into the flagpole.

Eric cackled and Stan, assuming Kenny had drugs in his system, helped to guide him inside.

"Just five days, Kenny." Stan told him, an arm around his waist to help him find his way. "And the rest of our lives."

Kenny then took Stan's hand roughly and feared...no, felt the rest of his life.

A/N: I hoped you all enjoyed! I had an idea to make a schedule of updating certain stories so hopefully I'll get on that and be able to update this story and my others frequently. Please follow and review if you liked and I'll try to update again soon! I love you all!