The plot thickens!
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Disclaimer: You should know by now that if I owed South Park or any of their characters... I would not have to put a disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter... how's that for logic?
Enjoy!
Persevere
Chapter Five
"Do you know why you're here, Stanley?" the councilor asked as the two of them walked down the carpeted halls of the main building. He was a squat man, even shorter than Stan himself. The teenager felt even more lanky walking next to him, and it made him feel disappointed with his thin and not so defined body.
"It's because I'm gay?" Stan answered, not really a question more like a statement he didn't really want to admit.
"We prefer to use the term bi-curious," the instructor corrected with a smile that seemed cold and empty. More of a knowing smirk. "You see, no one is really 'gay.'" The man put his fingers up and made air quotes and chuckled as if the very word itself was a joke. "They're just sexual perverts and deviants who have strayed from the light of God and are bound for the fiery abyssal of hell if they aren't corrected… and pay an entry fee of 150 dollars to our camp."
The terms 'pervert' and 'deviant' made Stan wince. He wasn't really a religious person, but this camp promised to help him change his sexual orientation. And that was something Stan needed. He didn't really fear Hell; he had done things in his childhood that pretty much guaranteed his place in Satan's pit. He was doing this for Kyle.
The two friends hadn't spoken for at least two weeks. In all honesty, Stan hadn't been able to keep count, the days going by in a blur as he wandered aimlessly through life. He was going to this camp for the sole reason of telling Kyle that he wasn't gay anymore and that they could be friends again.
"I've heard that you've had a friend of yours join us before," the councilor continued as they made their way past other boys, all of whom seemed nervous and depressed. "His name was Bradley, do you know him?"
Stan had to think for a second. He was sure the man would have asked about Butters. Everyone knew that he had been to this camp before. Finally, he remembered the other golden haired boy who had been with Butters. Now that he thought about it, it was obvious. Bradley had fidgeted and avoided eye contact just like every single one of these other boys. If he hadn't gotten that habit from this place, then Stan didn't know where from!
"Yeah, I've seen him around," Stan admitted after a second.
"Oh, good!" the councilor exclaimed. "And he's totally cured, correct?"
"Um, no," Stan informed, bluntly. "When we first met, he admitted to me that he was still gay. It was on our way to a Gay Straight Alliance meeting."
The grin slowly melted from the man's face and was replaced with an aggravated frown. "He must not have stuck with our regiment!" he growled, more to reassure himself than Stan. The teenager honestly couldn't care less. "He's back on the path of depravity…."
"What about Butters?" the raven haired boy asked. "He went here, too."
"No, we've never had a Butters here before."
Stan stopped mid stride, causing the councilor to look back on him with confusion. "That has to be a lie," the boy mumbled. "He was here for a while, everyone at school knows it."
"Well, ahem," the older man coughed into his hand and looked away. "We… may have had him here but… he was unwilling to change, so we dismissed him. Satan's hold was too strong on him. We've since erased him from our archives."
"So, if you're methods don't work, you either blame the person for not following your regiment or just pretend they never came here in the first place?"
The councilor looked back and forth, his mouth agape as if trying to think of an answer that wouldn't totally destroy his reputation. Stan's eyes mooned over with annoyance as he realized he wasn't going to get an answer. So it didn't surprise him at all when the man replied: "Over here… we have the cafeteria. That's where all the meals will be served."
"Uh-huh," Stan murmured, understanding it was pointless to argue.
"Oh, I forgot to mention about our policy here," the councilor started, coming up to room number 69. Stan sighed and placed his hands on his hips. Couldn't they have picked a different room to put him in? This was just embarrassing.
"At New Grace, we have a system called 'Accountabili-buddies.'" Stan merely rolled his eyes, seriously regretting his decision to self admit himself to the camp. "Let's meet your Accountabili-buddy: Vincent. He's been with us for quite a while, and is well on his way to recovery." With a swing of the door, Stan looked inside and saw a brown haired boy, just a little shorter than himself sitting under his covers in a bunk bed.
Vincent looked up with his gleaming hazel eyes. "Shit!" he gasped when he saw the two new visitors. He pulled his right hand from underneath the blanket and pulled the sheets further over him.
"Vincent, this is Stanley," the councilor introduced, seemingly oblivious to what the boy was actually doing. But Stan was savvier than that and let out a light snicker. "And remember, Vincent, swearing is against the rules. It makes you gay if you swear too much, just like having long hair and piercings will make you gay. I'll leave you two alone to get acquainted." The councilor turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Vincent took a moment to fumble around underneath the covers before standing up; slapping on a confident smile, even though his blushing cheeks betrayed him. "Hi, Stanley," he confronted cheerfully, extending his hand to shake.
Stan looked at the hand, his lips creased into a grim frown. The brown haired teenager slowly pulled his palm back and blushed again. "Oh, right," he mumbled, looking away.
"I'm not as dumb as these guys," Stan explained, doing his best to keep his voice icy.
"Honestly, dude?" Vincent laughed. "That's not saying much. These people are fucking idiots!" Stan's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Oh no!" Vincent cried in mock horror. "I broke that perfectly good skulking look you plastered over your face! You'll have to get that fixed."
Stan couldn't hold it back anymore and burst into a brief guffaw. "So what are you in here for?" he finally asked, wanting to know more about this kid. He reminded him a lot of-
"I'm trying to find a boyfriend," Vincent answered, vaulting himself onto the top bunk of the stacked beds, leaving Stan awkwardly standing in the middle of the floor. "I've had about four roommates in the month I've been here. Congrats, dude, you're the fifth." Vincent cleared his throat and leaned lazily against the wall. "The reason I've had so many roommates is because each one of them keeps getting deported back to where they came from! It seems I'm too much…" Vincent ran his hand tentatively down his torso before laying it on his thigh. "Temptation… for them."
Stan swallowed dryly. "But, the guy said you were well on your way to recovery."
Vincent elegantly jumped from the top bunk and went down onto his knees. "Oh God!" he cried, folding his hands as if praying. "How could you do this to me? All I want is your love. I… I don't want to be this way! Please Lord, I humble myself before thee!
Cure me of my perverse lifestyle." Stan stepped backward in shock as he saw actual tears begin to form on the edge of Vincent's eyes.
"I'm an actor, dude," the brunette spat, his demeanor completely changing from seconds before. "Fooling people is what I do best." He silently sat down to his original position on the bottom of the bunk bed. "Just tell 'em what they want to hear and you'll be out of here in no time."
"B-but, I want to be here," Stan whispered. Vincent's eyes widened as he leaned in closer again. "I… I want to be straight. I admitted my self here on purpose. I want them to cure me."
"Dude," Vincent began, at a loss for words. "No one ever comes here by choice. They're always forced by their parents or preacher or something…."
"You weren't!" Stan shot back, pursing his lips and pouting.
Vincent gawked, eventually breaking into a loud laugh. "Touché, Stanley."
"Please, call me Stan, I prefer it."
"Okay!" Vincent called, seating himself on the bed, crossing his legs. "From this day forth, Stan, you and I are rivals."
"What?" Stan asked, feeling his face get hot as it began to flare up.
"You try to get cured," Vincent smirked, revealing his white teeth almost evilly. "And while you do that, I'll try to get you to realize that you won't be able to change, and that you're perfect the way you are."
"Good luck," Stan scoffed. "I've been known to be very stubborn." The raven haired teenager turned his back on the other boy, trying to hide his crimson face. "You…" he started, a sudden thought pricking his mind. "You don't happen to be Jewish, do you?"
"Nah, I'm Lutheran," Vincent replied shortly, running a hand through his soft brown hair.
"Okay, just- just asking…." Stan threw off the jacket he was wearing and climbed the ladder to the top of the bunk bed. A hand swiftly lashed out and grabbed him by the ankle before he could make it all the way. He glared down to a very disgruntled looking brunette.
"Hey!" Vincent shouted. "Rule number one!" he pulled Stan down to his level; suddenly he appeared a lot taller than before when he stared into Stan's eyes. "I… am always… on top!"
Stan blushed even deeper and chocked down a pant.
"Besides, you have to go to orientation," Vincent reported with a deft look, practically shoving Stan out the door and into the hall. "Don't forget, you robbed me of my climax, so you owe me one!"
"Where do I go?" Stan asked, spinning around trying to gain his bearings.
Before he closed the door, Vincent called back "Just go to the cafeteria!" He then slammed the door shut and locked it.
The cafeteria was surprisingly full with new boys, chattering nervously away. Stan had been late, so he timidly found a seat in the very back and compulsively tapped his foot. His confrontation with his new Accountabili-buddy had left him strangely… invigorated!
As he eyes scanned the area, Stan had to let out hushed gasp. He slowly rose to his feet trying to get a better look, as he just couldn't believe what he pupils were screaming at him. He recognized him… how could he forget those eyes? That fiery red hair?
As if to confirm his suspicion, a sudden throb in his chest caused Stan to clutch at his heart. "It couldn't be…." he breathed with astonishment.
"Kyle?"