Stan's POV

You know something's wrong when you get a phone call past midnight. I had been sitting in my bedroom, flicking through page after page of this book I was supposed to read for English next week but, no matter how many times I reread a sentence or even a word, none of it was sinking in. I was thinking about Kenny. I'd been thinking about Kenny ever since Kyle had...had done what he did. Kissing me out of the blue like that and making up this bull about how he's so in love with me and has used Kenny from the start to get my attention. No offense to Kyle or anything, he is my best friend, but I could not imagine him doing that, not in a billion years so I didn't buy it. I took his spontaneous demonstration of affection as one of pity. He did it 'cos he felt sorry for me, nothing more, and nothing less.

All the same, I had been thinking about Kenny. I was wondering whether Kyle would tell him or would he keep it our 'dirty little secret'? If he did the latter, I would feel dirty myself, like I'd somehow betrayed Kenny and his relationship with Kyle. I was mulling over this when my mobile rang. I swept a glimpse at my alarm clock to see it was 12:26am. No one calls past midnight unless it's deadly serious, like forgetting to do an essay or warning that some guy down your road is going to beat you senseless. I groaned and groped for my phone in my rucksack, hearing the soft murmur of my ringtone, clicking answer before it could disturb my sleeping parents.

The moment I put the phone to my ear, someone was talking frantically and at a rapid pace. I blinked, sitting up straight as I caught the note of urgency in this caller's voice.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," I interrupted them, still trying to work out who it was calling me. "Who is this and whoever you are: dude why you calling me so late?"

"Stan," I knew exactly who it was the moment this person said my name.

"Kyle?" I squirmed as the memory of Kyle's lips against mine tingled across my mouth. Shaking it off, I swallowed and then continued. "Kyle, what's up? What's with the midnight call? I thought you were with Kenny."

"I was," Kyle said, his voice noticeably shaking. "But Stan, that's the thing. I told him."

"Told him what?"

"About..." he exhaled loudly. "About my feelings for you..."

Have you ever heard something, a sentence, a word or even a full blown monologue, that made your world start to collapse? Right from that statement, I saw everything start to splinter, a splinter that would eventually grow and become a crack, then more and more cracks would start appearing and then, eventually, everything would just shatter. Kyle had done something that could not be reversed; he told his boyfriend that he liked someone else and that was something you just didn't do. Sure, truth and honesty was good and all but you didn't tell them. You broke up with them straight away and kept the true reason hidden; that's what I did anyway...

"You did what?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down to avoid waking my parents and Shelley. "Kyle, what did you do?"

"I told him everything, Stan," Kyle explained. "I told him how I'd...how I'd asked him out to get you jealous."

Oh...so that wasn't a sick joke? A heat of the moment thing that held not a single element of truth in it? No, he was being deadly serious. Kyle had feelings for me. He'd started dating Kenny back in January to get me to notice him. So Kyle had been using Kenny...really? Could that really be right? If it was, Kyle was a pretty damned good actor 'cos he had me fooled...and even worse, he had Kenny fooled too.

"Well, what did he do?" I continued, not planning on focusing on Kyle's feelings any longer.

"He ran off," Kyle sounded in tears; his voice was thick and he had started to hiccup the way he did whenever he cried. "I tried to follow him, to explain that I never meant to hurt him, when he fell down the stairs. Stan, I'm scared he'll do something stupid. He ran off before I could check if he was alright..."

"Well, I'm no doctor, Kyle, but I'd say he isn't alright," I snapped, squeezing my eyes shut the moment I said it, remembering this was my best friend I was talking to. Pushing our friendship aside for now, I continued in a softer voice. "Where do you think he's gone?"

"I called his mobile six times, Stan," Kyle sounded in full sob mode now. "H-he wasn't answering so I called his h-house phone a-and his dad answered. Said K-Kenny wasn't home...I'm scared, Stan."

Some part of me was still furious with Kyle for what he'd done; that wasn't about to change because he was crying. I felt a slight temptation to tell him that it was his fault, his problem and that he should sort it out himself. I probably would've caved to this temptation...if it wasn't for the fact that Kenny was involved in all of this as well.

"Okay, I'll have a look," I said, trying to sound firm to let him know I was still pissed off but also assuring so he knew I wasn't just telling some shit to get rid of him.

"Thank you, Stan," Kyle sounded genuinely relieved. "Thank you so much. Call me on my cell if you see anything, I'll do the same."

"Kyle..."

"Yeah?"

"What you've done is wrong. And I'm not going to excuse you this time. You're my best friend, dude, always have been and always will be but you have a lot to make up for. Not just to me, but to Kenny. I'm only sorry that you felt you had to do...that to get me to notice you."

Kyle was silent on the other side and, for an instant, I wondered if he'd hung up on me but I heard him sniff. "I know, Stan," he hiccoughed. "I'm really sorry."

I told him I'd go round Kenny's house to check one more time, that I'd check around Stark's Pond and give Cartman a ring to see if he'd seen Kenny. Kyle agreed and apologised another three times before hanging up. Muttering 'shit' under my breath, I took to changing briskly into a pair of jeans, jumper, jacket and trainers, knowing it'd be ten times colder than usual outside due to the time. Lucky for me, my family sleep like they're in hibernation so even though I stood on the good old squeaky step and shut the front door behind me a little too loud, none of them would stir or know of my absence.

I was right about the cold. It was fucking freezing. I contemplated going back inside and putting on another jacket or shirt or something to keep the chill out a bit more but put my own discomfort aside, focusing on Kenny and how cold he must be right now. I went to Cartman's house first since it was the closest, but in all fairness I'd have preferred not to go round there and to keep Cartman in the dark. Despite the dislike I held for him that seemed to grow each day, he might've seen Kenny or Kenny might've even gone there. The last thought was a hit and miss since I doubted that out of all the people in South Park, Kenny would choose Cartman to dish out some comfort and offer a shoulder to cry on. But, then again, Kenny didn't really have anyone else outside Kyle, Cartman and I.

It took six knocks on the front door and eight tries on the doorbell until Cartman swung it open, looking seriously pissed off. When he saw it was me, his frowned deepened.

"Stan you asshole," he barked. "It's one in the fucking morning, what do you want?"

It took me a few seconds to work out what was different with Cartman's face since it was nearly pitch black. His nose was blackened, swollen and crooked to the right side, dried blood lying dormant in his nostrils. Most likely broken; it wasn't like that after the match so something must've happened during the short space of time we were apart.

"Cartman, what happened to your face?" I asked, struggling to take my eyes from his nose.

"Ask your butt fucker friend Kenneh," Cartman was turning alarmingly red in the face.

I was stunned to say the least. "Kenny did that to you? What did you do?"

"Nothing..." when I raised an eyebrow, telling him I didn't buy it, he rolled his eyes and admitted: "Okay, I said some shit about him and Kyle and how Kenneh bottoms to him."

I tensed, knowing Cartman was leaving out a hell of a lot of detail; it was probably much more abusive than he was letting on 'cos Kenny was not a naturally violent person. It took all the names under the sun to make Kenny take a punch at you, and even then it wasn't the strongest around. A lot of force went into that hit to leave Cartman's nose in the state it was in.

"So, what do you want asshole? I'm sure you didn't knock on mah door to ask me about mah health, Stan!" Cartman continued after a drawn out pause.

"Well...actually...I came to ask you about Kenny," I felt more reluctant to ask Cartman about Kenny now I knew he was in one of his vengeful moods. I mentally told myself not to mention the break up to save Kenny any torments on Cartman's behalf. "Have you seen him?"

"Not since he broke mah fucking nose, Stan, no!" Cartman didn't seem to care that his mom was calling faintly for him to keep it down. "And I don't want to see that pussy's face again unless it's under mah goddamn foot!"

I didn't even bother asking him to let me know if he did see Kenny. "Okay," I said and turned my back on him, walking away at full speed.

My next stop was Stark's Pond but that was a ghost town; seriously, who would go to there at past one in the morning? I began to feel hopeless and the fear began to grow and truly set in. My friend was missing and, from the sounds of it, he was hurting badly, both physically and emotionally. Kyle mentioned Kenny had fallen down the stairs; just exactly how bad did he fall? All these scenarios buzzed into my mind, humming their grinding tune in my ears and making my stomach churn over and over; images of Kenny collapsing by the road side, of him limping around somewhere, heartbroken and chilled to the bone. To make matters worse, it was starting to snow now. Snowflakes drifted down the back of my jacket and shirt, making my body spasm with shivers and making my teeth chatter feverishly.

My pocket began to vibrate and I stopped walking, diving a hand into my pocket and picking up my phone. Kyle's name was on the screen and I pressed answer, turning a blind eye to the disappointment that flickered in me; I'd kind of hoped it was Kenny...

"Kyle? Any sign of him?"

"Stan? Any sign of him?"

We said together in chorus. Giving a faint half smile that felt like it was splitting my face in two, I decided to try again. "Hey, Kyle, I guess you've had no luck then...huh?"

Kyle sighed. "None; Stan I've felt like I've looked everywhere for him. Have you checked Cartman's?"

"Yeah, but he wasn't too helpful. He's pissed off that Kenny broke his nose."

"His nose is broken?" Kyle choked a little with restrained laughter.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "He wasn't very happy to be honest. He said he hadn't seen Kenny since he broke his nose."

"Did you tell him about what happened?"

"No. He doesn't really have a right to know. It'll probably make his day, knowing how twisted he is. I'm going over Kenny's now."

"Okay, Stan, I'll have one more look around. Thank you...for helping out I mean."

"No problem. He's my friend too. I couldn't exactly say no now could I?"

Hanging up, I started towards Kenny's house. I hadn't been over there in years; last time was when we were all nine-years-old and my dad had come over to drop off my things for the night when he heard Kenny's dad shouting about one thing or another. He and Kenny's mom were having one of their famous rows and dad took Kyle, Cartman and me home. He offered Kenny to stop over ours for the night, but Kenny had insisted that he should stay. I hated leaving him there; Cartman found it hilarious. We never stopped over again since the McCormick family was deemed irresponsible and inept when it came to looking after other people's kids. Dad told me never to go over there again and that if Kenny and I wanted to hang out, it was to be at our house.

It looked...pretty much the same. Mr. McCormick had built an extension after he and Mrs McCormick had some more kids; Mr. Broflovski and my dad helped for a couple of days but fell out with Kenny's dad after he was drunk on the job, so he wound up building the rest by himself. I walked straight up to the front door, taking the living-room light on as a sign that they were still up. It took only two knocks on the door to get Mr. McCormick to answer it. His eyes were heavily glazed and he belched out of the corner of his mouth, his lids heavy as he looked down at me, swaying a bit.

"Hey you're the Marsh boy," he slurred, taking a swig from the bottle he held loosely in his hand. "What you want at this time of night?"

"Uh...I was wondering if Kenny was here," I said, perplexed. Wasn't he aware that Kenny wasn't around and if he was, why hadn't be called Kyle to let him know?

"Fuck knows," Mr. McCormick hiccupped. "That boy hardly lives here anymore. Too busy with that...Broflovski kid. Damn boy acts like a fucking homo. No son of mine's gonna be a queer."

Cringing at his harsh words, I forced myself to continue. "Kenny's not with Kyle Broflovski. We don't know where he is. I thought Kyle called earlier..."

"Who's at the door, Stuart?" Carol McCormick appeared at the top of the stairs. "Is it Kenny?" she sounded authentically concerned and I understood that it was she who had spoken to Kyle on the phone.

"No, Mrs McCormick it's me, Stan," I called up to her. "Have you heard anything off Kenny?"

She was down the stairs before I finished my sentence, nudging past her husband. "No I haven't," her eyes were red and looked sore.

I felt like the ground had turned to quick sand and it wasn't only my heart that was sinking.

"You better get on home, Stan," she went on. "It's much too late for a boy your age staying out this late, especially on a school night. Want Stuart to drop you off?"

Some incline told me that Mr. McCormick was in no right state to drive me home; he was stone cold drunk and he could be real nasty when he felt like it. The way he talked about Kenny told me that much. I tried to smile and assured her I could manage by myself, and requested that she gave me a call if (I used the word when to her) Kenny came back home. She swore she would and thanked me for worrying about her son, it meant a lot to her. I turned my back on the McCormick household, confused to why Kenny would ever want to go back there. It made you feel...like there was no escaping it. That, even though I was only a guest, I would be stuck there for the rest of my days, unable to escape the poverty I had stumbled upon. I guess Kenny felt like that every fucking day of his life.

000

It wasn't until 7:30am the next day when I got a call from Mrs McCormick. My dad had noticed my absence when he'd taken a leak sometime in the night and had noticed my light on in my room; he went in to tell me to knock it off to find an empty bed. Luckily for me, he hadn't raised the alarm but the next day, when my alarm rang its horrifyingly piercing song, he told me I would be grounded if I ever pulled a stunt like that again. Now I knew how Butters felt all those years...

I hadn't slept at all well and I was in a severely sour mood as I sat there at the kitchen table, fully dressed eating my cereal opposite Shelley (she'd lost the headgear and now gained a lot of attention from some guys at her college, so her anger levels were quite low these days). The house phone went off and my picked it up on the second ring, her voice muffled by the wall between us. It didn't even cross my mind that it might be Mrs McCormick; not even when my mom came into the kitchen and held the phone out to me. I thought it was Kyle at first and stretched my hand out eagerly, hoping he'd heard something. My mom mouthed 'Kenny's mom' to me before handing it over.

Gulping, I held the phone to my ear. I expected the worst to be truthfully honest. Two possibilities flashed their neon lights in my eyes. The first was a dark red, one that flickered on and off from time to time, like the bulb inside of it was dying. It said that there was still no sign of Kenny. The second was alarmingly and blindingly bright and it flashed on and off continuously, and it said that Kenny was de...

"We found him," Mrs McCormick was sobbing to me.

Both the bulbs in those signs died immediately and left only a trace of fright in me, because at that moment relief was pouring in and I was drowning in it. My knees wobbled and I felt like collapsing out of my chair. I'd never been so scared in my life, but now everything was going to be alright...I hoped.

Shorter than usual I know but there will be more. I hope you enjoyed and please review, let me know what you think. I kept having to re-draft this one because I couldn't make it flow right, so sorry if it's a bit choppy and unevenly written. I really enjoyed writing as Stan; I only hope that I've created a kind of individual voice for each of the characters who've had pieces written in their perspective.