Chapter Three: Too, too solid flesh
Stan leaned against the brick wall of Eric Cartman's house. He stared across the barren backyard, the tree branches whistling in the subtle wind. Stan closed his eyes, breathing in the dry, cold air. The bass from the party's music resonated through the walls, provided him with a calming, steady rhythm. The events of the last few weeks had troubled him, and his mind had been constantly overtaken with disquieting thoughts. But here, leaning against the wall on a too chilly night, he finally felt at peace. He could just be alone with his own thoughts. It was hard enough dealing with the loss of a close friend, but what had followed Kenny's untimely death did not make his grieving process any easier.
"Un-fucking-believable," he whispered. "She's clinging to Cartman like he's some kind of god." Stan shot his head back, hitting it off the wall. "Cartman's nothing like Kenny." Kenny had been the most loving person Stan had ever met. Anyone could see that from the way he treated his friends, and especially his girlfriend. He treated Bebe like a princess, always holding the doors open for her, carrying her books to class. He would even act as her own personal windbreaker, wrapping her up in his arms on gusty days.
"He loved her," Stan mused aloud. "She loved him back, at least I thought she did." His mind flashed to Bebe running to Kenny while he waited at the bus stop. Kenny swooping her up in his arms and swinging her around as the two of them giggled. Bebe was always attached to Kenny, whether hand-in-hand, with one of Kenny's arms wrapped around her waist, or their toes touching under a table, there seemed to be a need to be connected.
But what had it been, a week, maybe? Only a week after Kenny's death had Cartman asked Bebe out. Only a week after Kenny's death had Bebe said yes. Only a week after Kenny's death had Stan seen Cartman and Bebe sucking face as he passed the window of a cafe. Bebe had been a broken mess at Kenny's funeral, crying and wailing until Wendy had wrapped her arm around Bebe's shaking shoulders and escorted her out of the small church. Yet a week later, the same eyes that were bloodshot and tearing at the funeral were bright and sparkling with new-found love. And who was her new love? Cartman; who was still an asshole and who would never treat her as well as Kenny did.
It killed Stan to watch the events of the past few weeks unfold. But what killed him the most was that despite his unquenchable urge to speak his mind, he knew it was best to hold his tongue.
Author's Notes
The chapter is short, but I thought that the snapshot/flashbacks into Stan's brain should stand alone. Also, I know it's all background info, which can get a little boring, but if you don't know it, the rest of the story will not make sense.
Just so you know, this fic will keep switching point of view and have different styles. Review if you wish (I kinda want to know what you think of it), and thank you for reading. :) This may sound cliche, but it means a lot to me.
~A.P