Peace Out:
In Love with a Memory.
AN: Sorry for the long delay, two things happened in quick succession which halted this story in its tracks. 1. I got stuck on a very tricky bit in the middle there and 2. Then a few days later my wacom tablet arrived and so I was drawing art like crazy! ...oh and then I hit a depression and didn't write OR draw anything for about 2 weeks there. Soooo...sorry? aaahahaha. Hope this chapter somewhat makes up for that?
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. They make my day
Peace Out:
Kenny
Today has so far been a spectacularly uneventful day.
There have been no big dramas, no disasters, no confessions, and no breaking news. Nothing. Just work, plain boring retail work.
Not that I mind that much. I kind of treasure South Park when nothing much happens. When it's peaceful and lazy, which seems to be increasingly often these last few years.
I don't think it's that South Park has toned down the insanity level much at all. It's probably got more to do with the fact that I don't spend all that much time here any more, out on the streets making trouble.
Most of the time I do end up spending here I am working one of my two casual jobs. One here at Ski Zone, the other being night-shifts over at Ground Zero, the only decent night club in town. They built it a few years ago now and it has since become the central hub of youth activity here in South Park. It's a bit pathetic when you compare it to clubs in the big cities, but hey, it's all South Park has. So no one complains much.
Stan and I usually spend one or two nights there a week, when I'm not working.
I witness a lot of drama being a bar tender and still manage to end up getting myself involved in some of it here and there. But mostly I feel detached from it, like it doesn't particularly have much to do with me any more. And I pretty much like it this way.
This is not by any means the result of the town's lack of interest in me or anything. Stan and I are pretty much still hot shit here. It's just that I like to think of South Park as my refuge from the ridiculous world that is Male Modelling, as insane as that may sound. I like to be able to come back here after 2 weeks in the city and be able to relax and be myself again, swear all I want and wear hoodies and sweat pants again.
Because as much as I outwardly seem to fit into the modelling world and am for the most part happy to be the centre of attention, a model isn't who I am on the inside at all, and I hope that it never will be. That's the reason I enjoy returning to South Park so much. I am determined not to let this job change who I am.
Who I am now is a product of everything that has happened to me so far in this crummy little town, the good times and the bad, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
It took me a while to realise this. For so much of my childhood I couldn't wait to get away from this town. To get away from my dead beat Parents. Away from my bad family name. I had jumped at the chance to escape it.
Sure, being a male model is something I never would have seen myself as when I was younger. In fact I probably would have detested the thought, if I'd ever had reason to consider it. But it turned out to be the only ticket I was presented. I wasn't about to pass it up.
Once inside the modelling world I tried so very hard to fit in at first. I wanted to make this work for me. I wanted to prove to all these people here that I could make something of myself. That I, Kenny McCormick, could be successful. I wanted to prove them all wrong. But this new world turned out to be a lot more hostile and dangerous than I could ever have expected.
I've seen a lot of things in these last 3 years, a lot of thing I wish I didn't have to see. And I've seen people change. They loose their soul to that competitive world, and it's a painful thing to watch. To watch someone loose touch with everything they once were, everything you knew and loved them to be, is a frightening thing.
South Park seems like a peaceful little place in comparison, so simple, so pure. Sure a lot of fucked up things still happen here, and the residents are as crazy as ever, but this is how it's always been and it's not going to go changing. I'm relieved when I return for the working week back in South Park and find that it's exactly the way I left it a week before, or a month before that, or 5 years before that.
I know that you cannot run from change, or else I would have run away from the modelling world long ago, but still….it feels nice to be able to keep the things that are closest to your heart. And it hurts like hell to lose them.
Glancing at my wrist watch I see that it's now 25 minutes past 1pm, time to start packing up my gear. Stan will be waiting outside the store by now and I smirk to myself in the memory of why.
The Manager recently banned Stan from coming inside the store anymore while I'm in here working. She said she was sick of him hanging around and distracting me, which is fair enough really. As much as I love him, he starts to piss me off after a few hours too, especially in this store. He comments on the styles and designs of clothing and I don't want to hear that shit from him.
Five minutes later I walk out the front door of the store and sure enough Stan is leaning up against the rendered brick wall with his hands in his back pockets. He smiles at me as he looks up and I nod my head in the opposite direction and begin walking that way.
I wait for him to fall in step beside me before I elaborate. "I'm starving, just gonna grab a burger." I explain.
He nods once and I conclude that he must not be in a particularly talkative mood today. I don't mind. It reminds me of old times. Silences can be comfortable.
I wolf down my burger in less time than it took for them to make it for me, and within minutes we're off on our way again.
I don't think we really have a destination. We're just walking down the main street for something to do, trying to entertain ourselves, stopping and talking to people we know and chatting up girls. Gradually we'll make our way over to the sports complex and with any luck we'll find some of the guys there on the court. If not it's likely we'll just make our way back up here and I'll drive us back to my place. Watch some TV or something.
Whatever, I'm not fussed, it's just nice to have the full afternoon off to do nothing much.
It takes us less than an hour to get bored with the main street and soon we begin to meander our way though some of the back streets towards the sporting grounds, as I guessed we would. The walk only takes about five minutes and soon the Oval and Football field come into view at the end of the street.
As we get closer I can see that there are a number of guys on the field playing a small friendly game of football. I know a few of them but not all that well, so I'm not going to intrude on their game. I turn my head to the left towards the unfenced basketball court at the end of the field and see 3 male figures there. They're dribbling the ball, making passes and occasionally one of them shoots for the basket, but they're not really playing a game.
It takes me only a couple of seconds to recognise one of the guys as Craig. I'd recognise that butt anywhere, even from this distance. Sweet.
I turn to Stan and nod in the direction of the court. "Hey, Some of the guys are over there, what to go shoot a few?" I ask.
I know that basket ball was never really Stan's sport. He's more of a football and hockey guy, but it's not like there are any other options right now, and I know he wouldn't really consider butting in on the football game either, so I don't expect he'll object.
"Yeah sure." Stan answers with a smile and a new sparkle in his eye, and I know straight away that he's looking forward to a little competition.
As we stride around the field Stan's mood seems to have picked up considerably, and as a result so does mine. He and I always seem to get along just that little bit better when we're playing some sort of sport together. It feels like Stan is suddenly….I don't know, it's like he's suddenly free. Like he forgets about everything else but the game, letting go of everything that's weighing on his mind. It reminds me of when we were 15 and barely had a worry in the world.
As we draw closer to the court Craig is dribbling the ball towards the basket and I study the two other figures who are facing away from us talking now. I try to discern exactly who they are, but I am having trouble. One is wearing rather baggy grey sweatpants and a red sweater, the other a plain dark grey beanie, an auburn brown sweater and dark grey jeans. It would seem that no one came here dressed today to play anything serious, but then again, looking at Stan and I neither did we.
Within a few more meters I've recognised who the guy in the Red is, and it's confirmed as Stan calls out.
"Hey Clyde!" Stan yells a greeting beside me as we step onto the asphalt court. The shout causes Craig to turn our way, followed by the other two….Yep Clyde, and some guy I don-
I do a double take.
There's no mistaking those green eyes though. "Kyle!?" I exclaim and it comes out half statement, half query. My mind is suddenly awhirl with questions, but two stand out the loudest. What's he doing here? And where'd all his hair go!?
Kyle gives me a small smile and turns his eyes down to the ground, looking almost embarrassed, and in an instant my heart constricts in my chest in slight panic and I wheel around to find Stan.
He had come to a dead halt a few meters behind me and is now staring directly at Kyle, his face expressionless.
I have no idea what Stan might do. I ready myself to stop him just in case he lunges at Kyle with fists flying, it's quite a possibility. But it's more likely he'll run though. Or even cry. Oh god Stan, please don't cry here. I'd rather you throw a punch.
But he continues to simply stare at Kyle, unmoving, and when I turn back to Kyle I see that he is now staring right back at Stan, his face growing steadily more flushed.
"So?" Craig pipes in rather loudly in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.
The interruption seems to jolt Stan back to his senses and he looks down at the ground, his facial expression growing steadily more pained.
I wait to see what he's going to do. It's always been very much fight or flight with Stan. But his next move catches me completely off guard and I watch rather apprehensively as he takes a deep breath, looks up at the group, and comes to stand beside me, his face calm and emotionless.
I stare at Stan in slight disbelief. Is he….is he just going to act like nothing's wrong? Like he's forgotten or something? Like he's over it? This isn't the Stan I know.
Clyde gives a small cough before interrupting. "Kyle's just been telling us that he plans to stay here in South Park for a while, a few months, even a full year maybe? Isn't that right Kyle?" Clyde asks, almost gently, holding the basket ball in his hands now.
"Yeah." Kyle answers Clyde's question whilst looking at me. It seems he's deliberately not looking at Stan. "I'll be staying a while with my dad in our old house. Just needed a bit of a break from school and my Mother and….yeah, stuff." He finishes rather weakly, now looking down at the ground.
"Why didn't you tell me you where coming?" I blurt out, feeling a little exasperated. I don't really like being surprised like this. Perhaps if Stan wasn't here right now things would be going a lot more smoothly and I'd be excited to see Kyle. But I know that everyone here can feel the stifling awkwardness that's hanging in the air, and unbeknown to Stan everyone here knows exactly why it's so.
It was because of the kiss.
Kyle takes a breath and is about to answer when Stan cuts across him. "He didn't bother to tell anyone, did he!? So why would he tell you?" Stan grinds out, and I know that it's not really a question, it's an insult. It was meant to accuse, meant to hurt, and it's aimed more at Kyle than at me even though he is now stubbornly refusing to look Kyle's way. I can't believe him.
Kyle looks defeated and Craig, trying to lighten his mood again, begins telling him some funny stories of things he's missed over the last few years.
I had almost made a dire mistake just now, thank god Stan was too caught up in being angry at Kyle to think my reaction through. The situation is intimidating enough without adding the revelation of the fact that I have been in contact with Kyle numerous times over this past year in as well. I hate keeping secrets from Stan, and it's a secret that's just gotten a shit load bigger. But Kyle had asked me not to tell Stan that he had called after our first conversation, and I wasn't about to break that trust he'd put in me. Kyle had been a great friend to me up until the time he left town, perhaps even more so than Stan had been at that point, and I felt I owed him a little something for that.
So I had gladly been an ear for him whenever he needed to talk. This wasn't all that often, and was never about anything in particular. Not really about feelings or old memories or South Park at all, just about everyday things... which made me wonder why he had chosen me to be his listener. But after a while I figured it out.
Stan came up very rarely in our conversations, and I deliberately refrained from mentioning his name most of the time. I wasn't going to give Kyle that break. I just couldn't help my curiosity from getting the better of me…I needed to know where he stood. And through all of our talks together Kyle never once failed to show that he still cared for him, even if he was unaware of doing so. Therefore I wasn't all that surprised that Kyle was here now.
Still…I wish he had have told me first. I could have planned this better.
I continue to listen as Craig and Clyde fill Kyle in on the past he's missed, and I add in my opinion here and there, but mostly my attention is focused on the boy beside me. Stan is still standing there, not contributing to the conversation, and looking anywhere but at Kyle. Something Kyle has not failed to notice either.
Despite the calm face Stan has now put on, I can practically feel the emotion poring off him in waves. How is he still standing there not doing anything? This isn't Stan. He should have attacked Kyle already, jumped him with questions and accusations and painful words, cried even, anything. But he's just…standing there, ignoring this. Maybe I've lost him?
I turn my head slightly to glance at Stan, trying to keep my concern from showing on my face. As our eyes meet I see something inside him break, and all of a sudden he takes a step back, followed by another few.
"I have to go." Stan states before turning and pacing off.
"Stan!" I call out after him, and as he turns back towards me I fish my keys out of my pocket and chuck them to him. He's surprised but catches them with ease. "Take my car. You're going to be late if you plan to run all the way. I'll drop round and pick it up later, -k?" I offer gently, giving him a quick escape and letting him know I'll be there for him soon. He seems to pause, as if waiting to see if I won't change my mind now and decide to come with him instead. But I know that right now what he needs is to be alone, and I think he knows this too. He nods quickly and takes off again, this time at a slight jog, and we all watch him until he disappears from sight around the nearest street corner.
"He hates me doesn't he?" Kyle asks without warning, and the pain in his voice is apparent.
I turn back to the group and see that Craig and Clyde are now looking considerably more uncomfortable, glancing at Kyle with uneasy looks. No one answers him.
I honestly don't know how to answer him. I don't know how Stan feels. I know how he felt nearly 3 years ago now. I sat with him through all that. Through the tears and the depression and the rage, I tried to help. I tried my hardest for a long time to make him smile again, and it was the toughest thing I've ever fought for. But finally I got that smile back, and I resent Kyle a little now for being able to take it in the first place.
I can't say I completely blame him though.
A few more uneasy minutes of conversation pass before Craig looks down at his watch.
"Well, we'd best get going now." Craig comments, giving Clyde a look and indicating it's time to leave. "It was nice to see you again Kyle." He adds, handing Kyle the Basket ball and giving him a slap on the shoulder.
"Yeah Kyle, It's great to hear you'll be back for a while. We'll have to catch up again soon!" Clyde smiles and gives a wave which Kyle and I return. "Later."
We stand in silence watching Craig and Clyde's retreating backs for a moment before I see Kyle turn beside me and walk off. I swivel on the spot just in time to see him taking a seat rather unceremoniously on the grassy ridge that lies between the court and the adjacent gravel car park, hanging his head as he does so.
He looks so worn. He doesn't look a thing like the colourful, outspoken, fun little red head nerd I knew him to be at age 17, not in the slightest. My heart clenches slightly and then drops. Oh Kyle.
I walk up to stand in front of him, at the bottom of the slight incline, and he looks up at me and smiles through sad eyes. We look each other up and down and I note again the plain grey jeans, the auburn sweater with a white collar folding over the neckline and the grey unadorned beanie. All together it's a fairly stylish and well put together getup. But it's just not...Kyle.
"You look good." Kyle states inclining his head towards my outfit and smirking. My clothes are fairly low key, I have no desire to stand out in South Park, but they are still designer and obviously Kyle can tell.
"You look like shit." I reply simply and Kyle shrugs in response, lowering his eyes to the ground again. His smirk fades, but I can tell I haven't offended him. "What are you doing here Kyle?" I push again.
"I told you. I simply needed a break from my life, from school, from my mother, my girlfriend. Just from everything. I just need to take a step back to clear my head. Okay?" He finishes, looking up at me and begging me to accept that answer with pleading eyes. Those eyes that have always been so easy to read.
I don't believe a word he's saying.
"Yeah right." I scoff "You've come back to South Park to clear your head!? I don't think so." I add with an eyebrow raised.
"It's true!" Kyle exclaims defiantly, seeming suddenly younger and a lot fierier.
"Yeah Yeah, Okay, I believe you." I resign, flopping myself down on the sunlit grass next to him. The last thing I want to do right now is get into an argument, even if it means lying.
He frowns back, but it fades quickly enough, leaving us simply sitting there gazing at each other. And it's in this moment that I rediscover with some delight that tiny rim of hazel surrounding the pupils of Kyle's otherwise green eyes. Those eyes that are the one outward thing that remains distinctly 'Kyle'.
As a smile starts to creep across my face Kyle begins to smile back, but for a soon to be obviously different reason.
"So, what's with the clothes?" He asks suddenly with a laugh. But I can tell he's genuinely curious.
I smirk back. "What's up with the beanie?" I retort, grabbing it and ripping it off.
I almost immediately regret the move, even though I had been expecting exactly what I saw. I feel my face fall involuntarily as I eye the very cropped brownish-red head of hair. I had been expecting it, but I'm not sure if I was exactly ready for it.
No more curls.
Kyle speaks up before I can manage to gather any words. "I haven't let my curls grow for a while now." He states, taking the beanie from my hands and pulling it back over his short hair.
"...W-Why not?" I struggle to ask. Confused. And he shrugs again.
"You never answered my question. What's with this?" he asks, plucking at my designer hoodie.
"Uh...well. The last few years I've been doing a bit of modelling, so naturally"
"Wait, wait!" Kyle butts in. "You're telling me...You're a Model?" he asks, trying to keep a straight face, but not succeeding.
"Yeah, I am..." I confirm as Kyle's burst of laughter hits me in the face. "I know, I know, what the fuck right!? But yeah...it's easy money." I finish and shrug as Kyle's laughter ebbs away. Why do I suddenly feel so embarrassed?
He continues to stare at me, and as the grin on his face grows larger and larger I can't help but start to smirk myself at the absurdity. Kyle's shoulders begin to convulse in silent laughter causing me to let out a snort and within seconds we're both doubled over on the grass in roaring laughter.
It takes us a few minutes to settle down and catch our breaths. Now laying flat on my back staring up at the sky, I smile at the clouds passing by because even though the shit has suddenly hit the fan today and all hell is likely to break loose, I can sigh in relief because Kyle is still Kyle. He may look different on the outside, and he may be a little worn on the inside, but I know now that he is still the very same Kyle I know and love. And I see much potential in this new twist.
Kyle turns to me with a smile. "Why didn't you ever mention that you did modelling over the phone!?" he asks with another laugh.
"Well there's a lot of things we never discussed over the phone, isn't there?" I state, rather pointedly, and suddenly the mood has grown sober.
Kyle studies me now, with a rather apprehensive look on his face, and I just have to smile again. This won't do at all.
I had been wanting Stan to come up in our conversation so that I could begin to explore this twist, but it seems that Kyle is neither ready nor willing to go there just yet. And pushing things with Kyle has never really gotten anywhere other than into an argument. So...I guess I just have to be patient.
Kyle's sudden departure 3 years ago had devastated Stan. They had been inseparable for years. They were never a couple or anything, but everyone pretty much considered them one, even the adults strangely enough. Therefore the only one who had been truly surprised by Stan's actions that night ended up being Kyle. And although I would have thought 3 years to be plenty long enough to sort your feelings out, Kyle seems less than certain that he knows what he's doing here.
So I'll simply have to take a different direction with this. One thing's for certain though, I'm definitely going to get my old Stan back! Whether he likes it or not.
"Come on." I grin, getting up off the grass and grabbing Kyle's hand, pulling him up too. "Let's walk, I've got loads to fill you in on." I state with a wink, bending down to pick up Kyle's basket ball.
"I'm sure you do." Kyle smiles back rather hesitantly; obviously aware of how fast this convocation is going somewhere. He falls in step beside me as we make to leave the sporting grounds, watching me expectantly.
Hmm...where to start?
"Well, for one, Stan and Cartman aren't talking anymore!" I state as our feet hit the tree-lined pavement leading in the general direction of Kyle's old house.
Stan.
I have to get out of here! As soon as I'm around the corner I accelerate into a full out run. My mind is reeling and I barely notice where I am. I turn down street after street. Each breath I take tares through me like a cold rusty saw, as my chest constricts of its own accord. But I'm not going to stop. My eyes sting against the wind and my legs begin to ache.
Finally my throat becomes so dry that I can hardly breathe anymore and I stumble to a halt, bracing myself on a white picket fence. Immediately I know that stopping was a mistake as I feel the reality of the situation rapidly catching up to me, and then it slams into me full force.
"Aaaaargh!" I scream, lashing out at the closest thing and leaving a large dint in the side of a tin letter box. "Why!?" I holler at nothing and no one in particular.
Still struggling to breathe, I stagger around the corner of the fence into a small laneway and drop myself down onto a patch of grass. Why? Why has he come back? After all the time. Why did he have to come back?
I never wanted to have to face this again.
"Fuck!" I curse out loud, curling my arms around my knees and resting my forehead on top. I squeeze myself uncomfortably tight, trying to still my wild heart beat and force back the sudden onslaught of old memories, but they won't stop.
I hate Kyle for this. I hate him so much. And yet I just want to...I just. I.
Loved him more than anything else in your life. Admit it you pussy.
Whining, I release the strangle hold on my knees, breathing deeply now.
But that was a long time ago. I've moved on now. I have. ...even though that night 3 years ago seems like only yesterday now.
Kyle's Going-away party. The news was fairly sudden, and Clyde had offered up his house for the occasion. To say that I wasn't anxious would have been a lie, but I knew that it would take more than just a little distance to break our friendship.
I remember that night, everyone was drinking, me a little more than most perhaps. Kyle was the centre of attention, as you'd expect, and everyone wanted to be around him. I couldn't get near him all night, and so when he finally grabbed my hand and led me out back, into the relatively quieter backyard, I was in an instant state of euphoria. I remember how painfully my heart was aching, how we stood out there in the dark by the garage wall, how we talked for ages and we argued about his having to leave and how I pleaded. I remember how we agreed to spend the last 3 days he had here not leaving each other's sides, how I got all soppy and clingy and Kyle promised that we would always be Best friends, together forever, even if he moved away now. That he would come back for me. And then I remember being filled with this terrible dread, and this stupid drunk voice screaming in my head, over and over it screamed 'THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!' ...and so there was no hesitation.
I don't even remember the kiss, or the words that I pushed on him, I just know that they happened. And that they weren't returned or appreciated, proved by the large swelling I later developed on the back of my head where it had come into contact with the concrete paving. I knew instantly how utterly I'd just fucked up, even in my alcohol filled state, and I rushed back into the house after Kyle's fleeing form.
All this pain and anger and heartache over one stupid fucking kiss! I said I was sorry!! You Stupid Asshole.
I never did find Kyle that night, He must have run home, but I did find Kenny, making out with some chick on the couch. He dropped that score as soon as he caught sight of my face...and I guess I never really thanked him for that. I blubbered all over him about how I'd just screwed up completely and that I didn't know what to do and that he had to help me. I'm embarrassed now just thinking back on possibly how many people at the party overheard that.
Kenny convinced me not to go racing over to his house that night to try and explain. To just leave it until tomorrow. And that everything would turn out okay. He took me home and the next thing I remember I was woken up at 8am the next morning by a loud knocking.
Seconds later Kyle had burst into my room demanding an explanation. He was pretty much pleading for me to tell him that it was all just a drunken mistake and that I really didn't have any such feelings for him. And since that was what I had been planning on telling him anyway, I'd had no problem saying so...whether I was lying through my teeth or not. I've never really been sure.
He was so relieved when I finally convinced him, and I was simply thankful that I hadn't lost him. We agreed to put it behind us, and the next 2 days that we spent basically glued to each other at the hip where the happiest in my life, or so I thought at the time.
The third morning when Kyle went home early saying that he was feeling sick I was a little dismayed that our time was being cut short. When I turned up at his house the next morning to see him off, I found the new tenants already moving in. They informed me that the Broflovski's and the last moving truck had left 4 hours ago. Kyle told me the wrong time to see him off. He was already gone.
Stupid Fucking Douche bag Kyle! I told you it was a mistake! How could you let something so stupid and small ruin us? And why did you have to come back now and dig this all up again?
I slump back into my knees again and sigh. It had taken me so long to get over him, leaving me behind like that, abandoning me. He didn't even contact me once. We were best friends for god sakes, didn't that mean anything to him!?
I remember it quite clearly, that day almost a year later. I had been filled with giddy butterflies as well as a sudden rage when I had over heard that the Broflovski's had just moved back into their old house. A lady at the supermarket was saying to Mr.Macky that she'd just seen Gerald unloading boxes from the truck outside their house. I had abandoned my mother at the supermarket and was out the door within a second. 10 minutes later I ran straight through the Broflovski's open front door, dodging the boxes, and taking the stairs 3 at a time. I threw open Kyle's bedroom door, not sure whether I was going to hug him or throttle him, but was stopped dead in my tracks. The room was empty. Completely empty.
I had been so confused. On the way down the stairs I ran into Mr.Broflovski, and when I asked him where Kyle was, he told me rather grimly that he and Sheila were getting divorced, and that Kyle had chosen to stay with his mother.
That was pretty much putting the cherry on top of a big 'Fuck You Stan Marsh' cake for me.
He'd had the choice to come back. And he turned it down. He turned me down.
I waited for the day when Kyle would come visit his father, but that day never came. Ike showed up, every school break, and I ashamedly admit that I badgered the young teen constantly whenever I saw him. But it never amounted to anything, so finally I gave up.
Kyle didn't set a foot in this town in 3 years...so why in Fuck is he here now? Now!? At the one point in my life when I don't want to see him. Those green eyes. The way he was looking at me just now, I couldn't take it.
Squizzing my fists tighter, I feel a slight pain in my left palm. Opening my hand up, I'm somewhat surprised to find that I'm still clasping onto Kenny's set of keys.
Stuff This.
Standing up forcefully, I stride out into the street, trying to discern exactly where I've run myself to. Great, I'm now even further away from Kenny's work, where his car is parked, than I was to begin with.
Looking back in the general direction of the basketball court I left just minutes ago, I glare and come to a resolute decision.
If Kyle thinks that I'm going to forgive him, simply swallow down all that past shit and be friendly to him again just like that, he's got another thing coming!
-Kinky-Chichi
AN: I hope none of you are smarty pants enough to figure out exactly what's happening, because really, the way I'm writing it, it's meant to be a bit confusing and unclear in relation to feelings. Plus also Very point-of-view based, as in; straight from their brain, the way they think it. Sorry if this style is annoying anyone. XD i hope not.
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