AN: This kinda seems like a whole lot of rambling on about nothing here, even to me sometimes. But I felt it all needed to be said to set the scene for this story and give you an idea of who these characters are now and what their relationships are. The next chapter will be getting right into it, I promise.
Road Signs:
Stan
Jerking my head up, I'm startled from my light slumber by a violent vibrating in my jeans pocket.
I have no idea how long I was out for. It could have been only moments, or it could have been a good few minutes. Which is probably more likely I think, as I realise that my mouth had begun to drop open. I clamp it shut again and look around nervously at the other students around me, as they watch me fumble around trying to get my phone out of my impossibly tight jeans.
Looking down at my phone, the outside screen tells me that it's Kenny calling. I scowl inwardly as I quickly half flip it open before snapping it shut again, effectively hanging up on him. He knew I was in class, the bum, I very well couldn't answer it. The professor is giving me a death glare as it is.
I quickly stow my phone out of sight under the desk, but keep it clasped in my hands all the same. The professor turns his attention away from me and continues to explain…whatever it is he was explaining whilst I was asleep, something about fatigue, respiratory problems and the importance of knowing CPR. I'm not really interested.
Here it comes.
Sure enough, not 30 seconds later, my phone vibrates again once, causing those sitting near me to give me annoyed looks. It's definitely not the first time I've wished that my phone had a more silent vibrate. Stupid arse expensive piece of crap.
Of course it's a message from Kenny, I know before even looking. I'm going to abuse him later, he called up deliberately just to be annoying. He's going to pay for that one.
But upon reading the message my anger fades.
It's short and sweet, as it always is. "Home 10:40. Shop 4:30. Baseball 6:00. Bar 01:00". To anyone else this would make just about no sense, unless I told them that it was just Kenny letting me know his daily schedule like he always does. And at that point they'd probably act out one of those "Aawwwwh, How sweeeet!" moments, putting their hands on their heart and batting their eyelashes mockingly. Or just start to back away slowly….but it's not really like that. I know the real purpose for the daily Kenny update.
He's a closet greenie.
I can hardly believe it's true sometimes. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. Even if he is a male model, he has always stayed pure red-heck hick on the inside… except for this one little secret part that I alone get to witness daily. It's a constant source of amusement for me.
He feels so damn guilty whenever he drives anywhere alone in his car, like he's single handedly creating this 'climate change' problem by doing so. He always tries to give lifts to at least one other person he knows. ….but he doesn't go as far as to message them all every single day. That's just something between me and him. I still don't have my own car you see, so it's just a little ritual that's developed out of necessity. I mean, what else would you expect from best friends.
I'm not going to reply, I decide. For one, I'm not going to chance it with the professor eyeing me again. I can just hear him thinking 'Go On Marsh! give it a try, I dare you. Press those buttons. I know you want to' and I'm not going to give him more reasons to try and fail me. The arse!
And two, Kenny knows that if I don't reply that means I'm not meeting up with him anytime for a ride. No need to waste credit. Our schedules just don't match up well today. I know Kenny would have me wait around half an hour after classes today just so he can drop me home on his way to Baseball practice, but I really just can't be stuffed today. I can walk home in less than half an hour anyway. Kenny and his guilt trips, I swear.
I don't know how he does it, always on the move, working 2 jobs and going to Baseball practice after a night like that. I'm absolutely stuffed today, and my hangover is still lingering. After all, we had been partying in Denver only 8 hours ago now!
We had been back in the shared dorm over there for the weekend, Kenny going off with his agent to meet a few perspective clients, and I doing one of those increasingly rare hand modelling shoots. Kenny had got me into that job.
'The Discovery' of Kenny McCormick was made during senior year back in high school by this modelling agent from the city. I never really found out how they met, but straight after graduation Kenny practically disappeared off into this modelling world of his. He didn't bother continuing with schooling at all. I suppose he was never all that good at school anyway. This was his big break.
A few months later I was finally introduced to this infamous agent of Kenny's. Instantly upon setting eyes on my hands, she declared that they were the most gorgeous, masculine hands she had ever come across and that I simply must do some modelling work for her. I had never really noticed that my hands were any better than anyone else's, and I was blissfully unaware that such a thing as 'hand models' even existed. But disregarding that, I jumped at the chance.
Before I knew it, both Kenny and I were travelling into the City for shoots. Kenny always had more shoots than me of course, I mean, who can argue, it's a fact that there's more demand for a gorgeous face and chiselled body than there is for a nice pair of hands. We were provided with our own 'dorm' to share between us 6 models by the agency, and it's slowly turned into our second home. And we get payed plenty to boot! It was like a dream come true for two best friends from a small mountain town. That was almost a year ago. One crazy arse year ago.
Last night in Denver we had taken the opportunity to go out on the city with friends, and boy did we go out! I mean I know Denver isn't all the great, we relish it when we get to fly out and stay in other cities, but it can still be a fairly hot town. It beats South Park anyways.
We weren't going to be back there for a while, well I wasn't…because I have exams coming up soon, so we wanted to make our last night there in a while one to remember.
If I had have been sober there's no way I would have let us drive home last night. I laugh to myself. Kenny still likes living on the edge every now and then. But then again, I don't think that he was all that hammered last night anyways. He doesn't seem to be in the partying mood much these days, and I have no idea why. Maybe he's just growing out of it. I don't know. I hope not.
I am jolted back into reality by the loud shuffling of chairs and books all around me. Everyone is leaving. Class is over. Dear god, I learnt absolutely nothing today.
Damn. I can't afford to go on like this any longer if I hope to pass a single class. We really shouldn't have gone out last night. But I insisted we could pull it off. It's times like this that I wish I hadn't opted for morning classes. Usually I am a morning person, up and about as soon as the sun is if not before, but not today.
Groaning, I get to my feet and gather up my unopened books, making to leave the now almost empty class room.
-
The constant drum of my feet on the pavement is somewhat soothing. And I find myself becoming tired and lethargic again. One step after another, almost home.
It wasn't hard to make myself concentrate in my other class today, because it was my Prac cooking class. Not only is this my favourite class, but I also couldn't let my mind wander lest I cut myself again, something I can't really afford to do anymore if I hope to keep my hand model job. There's only so much they can touch up digitally before they get annoyed and find a new model. My hopes of being a chef and a hand model aren't really all that compatible, I've realised.
Last year I had decided to take a number of short courses here at South Park Community College after I had finished high school…just because…I was indecisive. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life. And I was bored. And my parents pushed me to at least do something.
So I took up a chefs course, because I enjoy cooking, as well as a Physical Trainer class, which I'm continuing to the highest level because it's fun, despite the theory. I hate the theory, especially when Clyde skips on it like today, the stupid lazy arse. I'm hung over and I still attend.
Uh. Finally I'm here. That was the longest walk home ever.
I enter in the front door of my family home and walk up the stairs to my room. It's the same room I've had all my life, and I've never really changed it much.
It's not like I spend that much time here anymore, in between the city dorm and Kenny's place, there's not much of a point for it. It kind of feels like just a place where I'm currently storing my things, and sleeping when I have to, but all the same…I feel a sense of nostalgia here, and I don't want to break it. There are so many memories here. Old memories, almost forgotten. They are painful memories now, but I'm still not quite ready to let them go. So I keep my room unchanged, and keep those memories here.
Lying down on my bed I stare up at the ceiling.
Yawning, I stretch and try to relax, but I don't really feel comfortable sleeping here anymore. I briefly wonder if I could let myself in at Kenny's flat and nap there instead, but I dismiss the thought immediately because it's ludicrous. What kind of pussy can't even sleep in his own bedroom alone?
Closing my eyes, I try to block out my room. Even that smudge on the ceiling has memories attached to it, and they're memories I don't have the energy to think about right now. I rarely let myself dwell on such things, and I'm not going to start again now. All of that is in the past and that's where it's going to stay.
The present is where I live, here where I have class, and my social life, my hand modelling gigs, and Kenny. Kenny and I live for the now and make our own memories. I have enough on my mind without bringing up all that old crap.
Trying to distract myself I decide to force myself to think of other things.
My plans for tonight, I think I'll end up dropping round Kenny's place now anyway. I don't want to stay here if I can help it. I'll walk round there after he gets back from practice. This leads to thoughts of hockey practice, which then makes me think of our casual basketball games with friends, what Token, Butters and Tweek are up to lately. When we're going to catch up next. Who might be having the next New Year's party. How Wendy's doing. Whether that hot friend of hers is still single. How long it's been since I've had a successful relationship. Whether I want a relationship. Relationships in general. Love.
I blink my eyes open and look at my alarm clock. I was asleep for nearly 3 hours, Kenny's home by now. I try to remember what I've dreamt about but the last dregs of memory slip away before I can grab a hold of one, and within seconds I've lost it completely. Oh well….can't have been that important. You're meant to remember important dreams right?
Swinging myself out of bed I walk downstairs, saying a brief 'hi' and 'bye' to my mom before leaving the house.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I message Kenny. "I'm comin round ur place k. b there soon."
The walk to Kenny's place takes just over 10 minutes, so I'm there in no time. Sticking my key in the lock I let myself in.
Immediately upon opening the door I spot Kenny sitting on the couch playing play-station. He smiles at me as I enter, but he doesn't take his eyes or his concentration off the game he's playing.
He has obviously just taken a shower as his shaggy blond hair is still damp and he is now wearing his neat black uniform, ready to go to work in an hour. He may be an organised person like that, but god is he a disgusting slob at home!? I think to myself, noting the state of the room around us. Then I smile guiltily when I realise that half of this mess was made by me.
"Want to play two-player!?" Kenny asks holding out the other controller to me as I slump onto the couch next to him, pushing an empty pizza box off the arm rest.
"Na, not tonight Ken, I'm too out of it." I reply, yawning as I recline out and make myself comfortable.
"Well you're no fun" Kenny pouts, chucking the controller into my chest.
"Oof. What? There's no point anyway. You always beat me." I say, tossing the controller back at him.
He flashes a mischievous, cocky grin at me, indicating that he agrees, and I scowl at him in mock annoyance.
Kenny presses the pause button on the controller again and resumes playing. I watch him for a while before getting bored. I begin to fidget on the couch, because my comfy spot really isn't all that comfy at all. This piece of crap couch has always been lumpy as hell. Finally I opt to get up and….find something to do. Whatever happened to me feeling tired, I don't know.
I look around the room and decide I'd better clean up a bit, at least some of my mess. I bend down and pick up all the trash I can see until my arms are so full of empty chip packets and beer cans that I have to walk into the small kitchen to find the bin. When I return to the lounge I finish with all the obvious rubbish and begin picking up all the magazines strewn over the floor and pile them onto the coffee table. I'm about to pick up a copy of playboy.
"Aarghhh!" Kenny yells unexpectedly, startling me. "STAN! Would you stop cleaning up!? It's driving me insane!" he reels on me, teeth gritted.
I find myself stunned. What the hell? Kenny's always so laid back. He never yells at me.
"Just sit down and stop being such a fucking woman!" he demands.
I obey and seat myself back on the couch, still staring at him.
He seems to realise how shocked I am, as he suddenly smiles guiltily and looks down at the floor. "Sorry Stan. I didn't mean to snap, but seriously dude, you gotta stop with the cleaning. This is still my place and you're technically my guest, I'm not going to have you cleaning!" He exclaims.
"Sorry" I breath, still not fully recovered. "I just though… I wanted to clean up. I."
"Since when do you like cleaning dude? What the fuck? What's up!? You really are the biggest girl I know these days" he finishes, looking at me for a long while, and I can't help myself as his statement sinks into my head.
"….i am not" I pout out and a big smile cracks across Kenny's face before he laughs and punches me in the arm.
"You are too." He replies, giving me a look that says the conversation stops there. Leave it.
He picks up his controller again and I notice that the screen is flashing with a big red "GAME OVER" Oh. Well that's probably half the reason why he snapped at me, because he lost the game and was pissed.
I breathe a little sigh of relief and fish my phone out of my pocket to take my mind off things. I fiddle around with it for a few minutes, adjusting settings, deleting old messages, viewing photos. But it doesn't entertain me for long and I pocket it again.
It's then that I spot Kenny's phone sitting on the coffee table.
I go to make a move for it but stop in my tracks as it seems like Kenny just started to lung as if to stop me. I look at him dead in the eyes for a moment as he leans back in his seat again, wondering why in hell he wouldn't want me to look at his phone. We look at each others phones all the time, what's he hiding?
"Can I look through your phone for a second?" I ask, keeping my eyes on Kenny.
He's gone back to his game again "yeah sure, whatever" he says, and it seems to me that he's trying to look casual now, as if he never even moved an inch toward his phone.
I lean forward again and grab it off the table.
Going straight into messages to have a belief look, I try to see if I can find what he's hiding. But there's nothing too suspicious. I scroll down, reading through the recent messages.
There's some from a few of the guys, totally routine looking stuff, some from Token, two from Butters, one from Clyde, all about nothing in particular. But the majority of them are from chicks he's been talking dirty to. Mummy-long-legs, Brazilian, Runway. Kenny is one of those guys who gives all his girls secret code names to remember them all by. I'm sure half of them wouldn't be too pleased if they knew.
CaneSucker, Pamela, Double-plunger, Cannylicker, Burger, Angel, Sexy-bunns.
And upon reading that name I reel away from the phone in disgust. I know who that is and I really didn't need that reminder.
Kenny snorts beside me, but doesn't look away from the screen. "Craig?" he asks, already knowing.
"dude, it's just sick. Do you have to?"
"well don't read through my messages then. I can't help it if he has a hot arse!" he says, turning and grinning at me.
I shake my head in disgust and quickly click out of messages and go to his phone numbers instead. Anything to get away from the subject of Craig/sex. Anything.
I spend a few more minutes just casually browsing though all the names in his list, laughing at a few and recognising most of them. Then I get to one that puzzles me. I have no idea who it is, but I remember it first showed up on the list about a year ago now. Bob. Who the fuck is Bob? We don't know a Bob.
I check in recent calls, and there he is again. Bob. Kenny spoke with him a week ago, and 2 months ago, and 1 month before that.
"Who the Hell is Bob!?" I ask, looking up at Kenny and trying to seem interested but still casual.
Kenny steals a look at me out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the game. "just a guy I know." He states simply. "You've never met him" he adds after a moment and then goes silent.
I look back down at the name again. Bob. Probably just another one of his boy….crushes or something, I decide, snapping the phone shut now and placing it back on the table. Well that was entertaining. I sigh loudly and go back to watching Kenny play.
The minutes pass and I don't know if I'm imagining it now or what, but Kenny seems to be getting steadily more irritated as time goes by. Whether it's at the game or at me, I don't know. I just really don't want to be snapped at again.
"You had dinner yet?" I ask quietly.
"Nup." Kenny replies.
"I'll fix us something." I say, getting up and walking to the kitchen.
"In less than 25 minutes!?" Kenny yells sceptically from the couch and I poke my head back around the corner.
"Well yeah, just something quick. It's not as if you have any gourmet ingredients in this house anyway." I say with a laugh and turn back into the kitchen.
"Bloody Woman" I hear Kenny say quietly from the couch and I turn back into the lounge, throwing a tea spoon at him and hitting him in the shoulder. "HEY!" I hear him scream in protest as I return to the kitchen again.
Now. What to eat?
I take a look in the fridge.
Just about the only raw ingredients in Kenny's kitchen are what's left over from other times I've made meals here, and this meagre amount really isn't that helpful, seeing as half of it is going rotten and Kenny hasn't thrown anything out in weeks. I cringe and walk over to the pantry instead.
It's filled with lots and lots of chips and soups. Yep….not much else. Good-o. Wait! I rush back over to the fridge. YES! Cheese! Grabbing it I return to the pantry.
Searching through the multitude of cans and gars I finally find it. Salsa! I'm Making Nachos and Cheese! It's about my best option at the moment and I haven't made that in ages, as simple as it is. I know Kenny loves it.
Kenny always has plenty of bags of nachos, he just would never think to do something as simple as add cheese and salsa and put it in the oven himself. It probably never crossed his mind to even check for the ingredients in his own kitchen. Pretty pathetic, but hey, that's Kenny. I think he'd rather just eat processed packaged pre-made foods anyways. Not because they taste any good a tall….he admits they're disgusting. He's just that lazy. '…too busy. Would rather spend my spare time doing better things than cooking' he says. Yeah, playing video games- much better use of time, I scoff.
Once I've found a dish, laid out all the ingredients in it and put it in the oven, I return to Kenny's side for a few minutes while it cooks.
When I sit back down on the couch he turns to me and gives me a weird look. "What about dinner?" he asks, sounding a little bit annoyed and disappointed.
"It's in the oven." I say simply, trying my hardest not to smile at all.
"Oh." He says and returns to his game.
I spend the next few minutes watching him, not the game, but him. I'm waiting for his reaction when he realises.
It takes a couple of minutes, but finally I see his nostrils flare. Suddenly his attention isn't on the game anymore and he takes in a number of short quick breaths in through his nose. And then his eyes go wide. Yep, he's got it.
Kenny springs over the back of the couch and sprints into the kitchen where I can imagine he's squatting in front of the oven. And then I hear him yell. "NACHOS!!!? You GOD Stan! You fucking God!"
Smiling to myself I turn around and see he's in the doorway of the kitchen now. "Come on, get them out already!" he wines, bouncing a little, and I laugh.
"They're not quite ready yet, they need to be nice and crispy, not just melted."
"I don't care! Get them out. I only have 10 minutes Stan!" Kenny rebuffs, back in the kitchen already.
"Okay, okay. But it's not like you haven't eaten a meal in less than 10 minutes before" I chide, grabbing the dish out of the oven and setting it on a hot-mat.
We spend the next 10 minutes burning our fingers and stuffing our faces, and my only regret is that we had no sour-cream.
Kenny rushes around the house for another few minutes before racing out the door because he's going to be late for work. "Hurry the hell up Stan!" he yells from outside.
Walking over to the open front door, I look down to the car park below the units and see that he's already sitting in his car. I lean up against the door frame and he sticks his head out the drivers window to glare at me.
"Don't worry about driving me home, you just go. I'll lock up here and walk home." I yell out to him.
"You sure?" he asks and I nod. I know that skipping the detour to my house will shave a few minutes off his drive.
"But Stanney….it's too Dark for you to walk home all on your own, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you" Kenny coos with a mock look of worry on his face, and then laughs.
"Piss off. I can take care of myself. I'm not a girl." I retort, annoyed, but smiling.
"Then stop acting like one. And don't you dare try to clean up while I'm out." Kenny warns. "I'm totally creeped out by this new development of yours" he adds, looking stern.
We simply glare at each other for a few moments before I smile again. "You're going to be 10 minutes late now" I inform him casually.
"Oh Shit!" Kenny yells, flicking the engine on and reversing back out of his spot. Slamming on the brakes, he give me a quick "Later dude" before putting the car into first and spinning out of the car park and down the street.
I stay standing in the open doorway until I hear him turn the far corner and then I retreat back into the warmth of the house.
I know how much Kenny doesn't want to loose his new bar tender job, especially seeing as he's only had it for one month now…since he turned 21. He had been wanting that job down the club for years now. I really should have put more effort into making sure he wasn't going to be late. I should have pushed him out the door 5 minutes ago, but yeah.
He's been working way too much lately anyway. It's just not healthy.
Walking back into the kitchen again, I grab the empty nachos dish and place it in the sink before collecting up all the empty ingredients packets and throwing them in the rubbish. I'm not cleaning….i'm just packing up after myself. Yeah.
I lock the front door behind me as I leave and start my decent down the stairs into the dark of the street.
As I walk slowly down the lamp lit streets I ask myself if it's even worth a trip over to Kenny's house for only an hour, a rather uneventful hour, like tonight? But straight away I know the answer is yes. Even when Kenny is in a mood like he was tonight. The answer is still yes.
The answer will always be yes.
Kenny has work again all tomorrow morning, and I have 2 classes before 1pm, but after that we're going to hang out some more. Just like every other day we spend in South Park and not in the city. Class, work, and hanging around doing nothing much. It's so easy to let the days slip by like that. The weeks. The months. And then we complain that we don't have enough time to do anything anymore. It's ridiculous.
I walk up onto the front steps of the Marsh Family home but pause before opening the door, turning around to look at nothing in particular. The wind whips my dark fringe across my face and I brush it back and smile gruffly out into the night.
Yep. Tomorrow's going to be one more boring day.
In this crappy mountain town.
-Kinky-Chichi
AN: Yeah, you want to kill me now. I made Kenny and Stan Male Models. And totally OOC, especially Stan. Hahaha. I kinda hate myself for it, and laugh my head off about it at the same time. Don't worry, I have this all under control. I'm not loosing it. I swear.
Please Review.