The bus ride was awkward and silent. They did not sit near each other and Kyle was surprised with the fact that Ms. Wendy Testaburger did not occupy the bus that day. Kyle would glance to Stan every now and again and study him. He smiled as he gazed at Stan's furrowed brow, his concentrated glare out the window, his tensed muscles. Kyle realized this was the first time he was looking at Stanley Marsh while completely aware that he was in love with him. Kyle was glad that Stan looked so good that day, that Stan looked even more handsome than usual. Kyle made fun of it a lot, but he really did love Stan's emo-flip, and as he studied Stan, he noted Stan's high-tops. His brain snorted in repulse. He hated high-tops.

Stan glared out the window. He was positive he could feel Kyle's emerald eyes on him, but he was too proud to turn around. He was trying to convince himself that he was being paranoid as the bus came to its third stop. His brows were knit inwardly in frustration, he could hardly stand not turning and looking at Kyle. When he had spotted Kyle coming towards the bus stop he looked so good, so silky and smooth. Not that he usually looked anything but…completely mesmerizing, but today was different. It was almost as if Kyle deliberately forced every pore, crease and hair to perform perfection on this very day. This very day that Stan was trying to put him out of his mind. This very day…ugh, he wouldn't waste time thinking about it.

Cartman had loaded on the bus and sat down next to Kyle, contently capturing Kyle's attention. Kyle was not one to ignore someone or treat them unequally, so he seemed reluctantly consumed by Cartman's ranting. The bus eventually came to its conclusion at the school and the children emptied from the vehicle. Kyle accidently interrupted Cartman's ranting and asked softly, "Hey, did Kenny die?"

"Yeah, he was killed two nights ago." Cartman stated aloofly

"Oh. He thought he'd die by the end of the week."

"Yeah," Cartman began, "he got hit by a—"

Cartman stopped speaking as Kyle bumped into Stan near the exit of the bus. Kyle backed away a little; only being caught by Cartman's plush shoulder. His curls bounced, tossing around his alluring scent. Stan fell back a little, only just catching himself against the railing. They looked to each other, about to apologize, but once they realized who each other were, they went silent. They stared blankly at each other, unable to form words.

"I-" Kyle began, but Stan immediately walked off the bus and left Kyle in silence.

Cartman looked to him and asked, "What happened between you guys?"

I realized I'm in love with him. He realized how much he hates me.

"Nothing. We had a small argument."

Cartman seemed to store away the rest of his questions as Kyle led them both off the bus. Kyle walked slowly to his locker, then to class; the only thing on his mind being his profound love for his best friend.

Stan sat in Global History. He was dreading his lunch period which was fast approaching. He didn't want to see Kyle. He didn't want to hear Kyle's voice. He didn't want to suffer anymore. Every time he saw Kyle Broflovski he was only reminded of the love he could never have. Kyle had even made it quite clear the he would not hand over his heart to him. That was all Stan needed to be torn apart. That was all he needed to be broken. So now he will give his broken pieces to Wendy Testaburger, and hope and pray that she will have the ability to put the pieces back together. He will hope and pray, but he knew she couldn't. He knew that there was only one person in the world who could repair him, but he never would.

The class passed and he decided to leave for lunch. He wasn't supposed to go out, but he knew how to get by teachers, so he didn't worry.

Kyle had been hoping that Stan wouldn't show up. Kyle knew he didn't have the guts to go out for lunch of his own accord, so he hoped the brave Stanley Marsh would ignore his existence and leave the building. He was half glad and half disappointed when he walked into the cafeteria to find that Stan wasn't there. He sighed as he sat beside Cartman as he did every day.

"Are you okay?" Cartman asked as Kenny sat down across from them

"Is Stan in today?" Wendy's voice came across their table

At the mention of his name Kyle's face reacted and warped into a troubled or injured expression. His hands crawled up against each other against his chest as he muttered in scratchy whisper, "Yes…yes he's in, I have to go…"

Cartman stopped him by grabbing his wrist. It reminded Kyle of Stan.

"Kyle…are you really okay?"

Kyle was so broken without Stan…in that moment he felt his heart tearing in two. Telling him all of the secrets about himself he didn't want to know, calling him a liar and reciting all of the twisted metaphors and emotions fuming up inside him. His mind was crawling with insects of bad dreams and sadistic control over people and their emotions. He wished he could manipulate Wendy so that she would no longer be interested in Stan, manipulate Stan so that he would need Kyle and only Kyle…manipulate Cartman to love Kenny, Kenny to love Cartman. He wished he could run or fly or rip or tear or scream. He wanted to cry and throw the tables over onto the unsuspecting students, strain the perfect silk curls on his head until their pulled out in fury. He wanted to crawl in the corner and glare at every single person who passed, grab at their jeans and trip them until they all lie face-down on the floor. He wanted wings to burst painfully from his spine and let him twist and turn out of the room heroically, show the world he didn't need them, that he didn't want them no matter how much they needed him. Instead he replied before running off, "Yes…I'm really fine…"

He ran off to the library, hugging his thin torso as he rested against the threshold. He snuck in, unseen. He rushed to the tragic romance genre; no one was ever there. Kyle never knew why. He never even knew why he never went there. Now he knew why. Now he knew what unrequited love feels like, now the he knew the pain and agony of love come and gone. No…this love would never leave him. He knew it wouldn't. He rested his back against the giant wooden shelves as he bit his lip to stop from crying. He bit so hard, he bled. He was surprised to find that the sharp pain of his canines carving into his flesh was pleasuring to him. It calmed him and he wondered…maybe love was like that. You searched so hard for it, carved in so deep, then once you found it, it hurt and you suffered but it was pleasurable. And as the silk, red blood began to flood him from his bottom lip, he thought that maybe…just maybe that was love too.