"The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4am knows all my secrets." - Poppy Z. Brite

This is what he expected after a tiring day, the fruitless attempt of things. Laying in bed and pondering life, and the reason why he couldn't fall asleep like everyone else. His eyeballs felt burnt, crying for quiet rest. But it was useless, sleep was nowhere to be found.

Past mistakes and conflict swirled inside his head, pounding like a weathered drum. The residing echo was a migraine, well equipt to torment him.

And at the forefront was Stan's face, timid but compassionate.

They've known each other since the beginning, and shared every success and failure. Kyle always hoped that he'd continue this path with Stan by his side, but more as a partner than a friend.

Fate was cruel in that sense, merely giving him a taste. Kyle groaned, digging his head into his lumpy pillows. On their own accord, his fingers twitched uncontrollably. He was unaware of the spasm.

The wind howled out in the distant, sounding like it was behind an invisible wall. It was warm that day, with a light dusting of snow underneath their feet. This was the perfect time and day to ask, Kyle was sure of it. But that didn't make it any easier, in fact Kyle was plain terrified. It was only the two of them at the bus-stop, so it should have been easy to ask. And yet he hasn't, not yet.

"S-Stan?" he started, voice briefly cracking in anxiety.

Stan glanced over, eyes half-lidded with the urge to sleep. "Yeah, what's up?"

This was it, his big chance. He felt slimy, invisible worms inching along goosebump riddled skin. "I've been meaning to, uh, ask you something..."

"Hm?"

Kyle shook his head to himself, assaulted with a new-found emotion. It was both brilliant and terrifying. God, Stan was attractive.

His friend's silky black hair was tousled from his warm bed, yet appeared effortlessly fashionable. Something he could never achieve, not with his rat's nest. Come on, Broflovski. You can do this.

He nibbled on the inside of his cheek, teeth grazing the soft flesh of his mouth. "Do you want to go on a date?"

"What?"

Shit, he's looking now. Really looking.

He appeared to be mulling over the words, head tilting with the question. It made Kyle love him even more.

"What, like a play date? Don't you think we're getting too old for that? We're in high school now."

"Yeah." Kyle caught himself saying, trying to pass the whole thing off as a simple play date.

No, you have to know his answer or it'll haunt you for the rest of your life.

"N-no, not a play date."

"Alright...what do you mean?"

Kyle sighed, Stan could really be heedless sometimes. Mustering all of the courage he held, Kyle stared off into the distance. A breeze of ice particles danced on the field's surface, sparkling like diamonds.

Loudly Kyle sniffed, his nose felt heavy and damp.

"I want to date you, Stan. Romantically."

Nothing. There was an abyss between them, and Kyle wanted to sink inside. The minutes that passed by shook Kyle to his core, curdling his stomach. He was tempted to speak out, to fill this empty space. But he couldn't, Stan had to be the first one.

"I don't know what to say..."

Just say yes.

"I-I'm sorry, dude." No. "I just, don't feel the same way..."

Kyle looked away from the field, glancing at Stan's expression. There was no ridicule there, no contempt. He just felt...sorry, silently wishing he didn't have to hurt his friend.

It would have been easier if there was some, so Kyle could block out the heartbreak with anger. He blinked as a wave assaulted him, causing his eyes to water up.

Fuck, he wasn't going to cry. Not in front of him.

"Look at these losers, showing up early like a bunch of tools."

Using the distraction of Kenny and Cartman's arrival, Kyle discretely wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, getting rid of the evidence.

"I'd rather be early than late, fatass." Kyle greeted, adding a laugh to the end of the comment. It sounded fake to his ears, almost hollow. Stan must have felt the same way, as he furrowed his brow, looking away.

"Shut the fuck up, Jew! I'm big-boned!"

This is what he needed, Cartman's loud and obnoxious voice to fill in the void.

"That's what you think!"

Kyle groaned as an insistent ringing shrieked in his ears, the lovely sound of someone calling his phone. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping that he'd get away with a nap. Last night didn't do much good for him, and seemed to make him even more restless.

"Fuck!" he called out, voice raspy.

Rolling onto his side, he grabbed the phone placed on his bedside table.

Incoming call from: Mother

"Hello?" he answered, rubbing at his eyes.

"Kyle? Why aren't you over yet?"

He glanced over to his clock, 6:05 am.

"It's only six, Mum."

"And?"

"I'm on my way." Kyle said with a sigh, accepting that he'd have to leave the comfort of his bed. Something that felt rather empty with only him in it.

"Don't forget to eat breakfast, you know how cranky you can get!"

"Thanks, Mum."

"The time is 6:05 am, Mr. Cartman."

"Thank you, Haley." Cartman hummed, finally clambering out of bed. His stomach rumbled with the movement, begging for food. He ignored it for now.

"How's the stock?"

"Up by 2.30%, sir."

"Good." he paused with a loud yawn, the corners of his eyes becoming watery. He continued with, "Did you book me a room?"

"Yes, sir." Haley stepped into his line of sight, her dress neat and tidy as she held Cartman's outfit of the day.

Both were nearly blinded by the light streaming in through the windows, casting an angelic glow among the pair. He turned his back to Haley, arms raised. In the next instant the softness of cotton encircled his arms, the white dress shirt still warm from the iron.

Neither cared that Cartman was still in his boxers, Haley had seen him at his lowest and highest point. And it wasn't as if she was an intern anymore, those years were hell on earth. The time where every day was a battle, trying her hardest to trudge through the sadistic mind games.

But it was all worth it, to earn his trust. And to be awarded a hefty pay, with benefits.

"Are you looking forward to it?"

Fine to button up his own shirt, Cartman darted his gaze up to his assistant's face. Curiosity and perhaps even companionship, unlike the common snakes that tried to poison his life on a daily basis.

She needs something to keep quiet, but nothing big to get her hopes up. Keep them wanting, and in the palm of your hand.

He shrugged, feigning an indifference to the event. "Not much has changed, I'll bet you that. Same assholes, but coupled up with lesser ones."

Haley nodded in understanding, but she didn't know, not really. South Park was engraved in Cartman's veins, thickening it until it boiled into a desire of wealth and independence. Without that small town, he may not have been able to claw his way to the top. To realize how ruthless he could be, murder not-withstanding.

"But surely there isn't only, er-unpleasant people in South Park. I was even informed of a new mayor and police force taking over."

Cartman laughed, a loud and hearty sound. "You can't honestly believe that, can you, Haley? Use some of those brain cells God gave you for once!" he simpered.

Haley flushed with the comment, but said nothing to defend herself. The topic may seem lighthearted right now, but her boss was quick to turn that into a heated argument. Those days left her in the nearest bathroom, trying her best to quieten her sobs. Any attempt to tame him left her with far more scars, and the reminder that his time in jail was necessary.

"No matter the smell, shit is shit. And the same goes for corruption, and honey, South Park is exactly that. Corrupt."

Giving her a toothy smile, Cartman grabbed his pants from his assistant's folded arms. Seconds later, he was zipped up and ready to take on the day.

Ideas rolling inside her head, Haley pondered if she should approach it again. But it was a stupid idea, and already Mr. Cartman appeared irritated with her. Best to not push her luck. But despite all of these warnings, Haley couldn't contain herself.

"And what about you, sir?"

The frankness of her words startled both of them, but Cartman was momentarily fazed. His expression receded upon itself, and lacked all of its signature flair. That look both chilled and excited her, a deadly concoction.

"I'm the biggest one." he admitted, striding over to grab his phone from a glossy table. "And South Park best remember that."

Kenny's message popped inside of his head, it may have been written in a drunken haze. But that didn't make it any less true.

Then South Park better look out, 2 sexy guys are on their way...

If only Kenny knew how true that statement was.