His life wasn't exactly going according to plan, and things could certainly be better, especially when it came to the whole Stan situation. But at that moment, he didn't care. He had just experienced one of the best weekends of his life. He wasn't sure how the hell it came to be that Cartman started flirting with him, but he wasn't going to complain. It made him feel embarrassed, but it also made him feel alive. He felt almost sexy knowing that Cartman, someone who just a few weeks earlier had called him "ugly," had taken an interest in him. And Kyle knew Cartman better than anyone. Therefore, he knew that the flirtatious advances and the tense moments were from interest rather than simple teasing. It made Kyle happy. He would have never even dreamed that he could ever start to fall for his nemesis, but in retrospect, it all seemed to make sense. Why he always believed in him, despite the cruelty. Why he felt a great sense of betrayal whenever Cartman let him down. Why he felt relieved and even grateful when they were able to stay in the same room without killing each other.

Their friendship had come so naturally, despite the awkward beginning. Once Kyle had admitted that he cared for Cartman, it was as if their relationship had been propelled forward. In fact, it was as if these feelings had been there all along, covered up by lies, denial, and stubbornness.

Cartman's last revelation would have seemed like nothing to a passing stranger. But Kyle knew better. He knew what Cartman really meant, even if the words were left unsaid. Cartman never complimented anyone, not truthfully. So when Cartman told Kyle on that Sunday night that Kyle wasn't so bad, Kyle knew the only appropriate response he could give.

"I know!" he called, his voice ringing clear in the night, and he quickly turned away. Kyle suppressed any urges he had to skip, dance, sing, and shout his excitement and instead walked briskly home with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

He felt special knowing that he was the one person that Cartman was nice to.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Broflovski."

Fuck. Kyle recognized the voice instantly. He paused, and slowly straightened up. He had been rummaging around in his locker, trying to find his math folder, when the voice came directly behind him. He turned around, eying the larger boy suspiciously.

He had brought his friends.

"I didn't take kindly to getting in trouble on Friday," the leader, who Kyle now knew as Michael, growled.

Kyle glanced at his friends, who were flanking Michael's sides. Kyle was cornered, so escape wasn't an option. He quickly looked around and saw there wasn't anyone nearby. He had already been running late for his math class, and as the bell rang, he realized that there was probably not going to be anyone to save his ass this time.

"Look," he said evenly, keeping his voice calm despite his quickening heart rate, "Why don't we stop this before it gets out of ha-"

"Shut up. You humiliated me, and I got detention after school Friday. I'm on the football team – I can't afford to get into trouble like that!"

"Which is why threatening me isn't a good idea."

"Is THAT a threat, you scrawny asshole?"

"No, I'm just saying-"

Suddenly, Michael's hand was surrounding Kyle's throat. Kyle quickly jerked his body away, but he was trapped between Michael's large frame and the lockers. His hands flew up to Michael's fist, digging his nails into the flesh there, grasping and pulling. Luckily, he could still breathe, but his panic was making it difficult to.

"I'm not going to let a queer like you ruin my chances at going pro!" Michael snarled. "Now, you aren't going to tell anyone about this – otherwise, I'm going to fucking kill you. You understand?

Kyle closed his eyes as Michael lifted him up into the air a bit, still holding onto his throat. He struggled miserably, kicking at his attacker but unable to shake him. Finally, Kyle managed to nod once, indicating his own defeat, and he was let go. He gasped for breath, clutching at his throbbing neck.

"Now you know what happens when you mess with me," the senior spat, kneeing Kyle painfully in the ribs. Kyle cried out, falling to his knees from the mixture of shock and pain.

And as quickly as they had come, they were gone. Kyle didn't move while he waited for the sharp pain to subside and his breathing to return to normal. He decided that he didn't really care how late he was for class.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Are you ok?"

"Y-yeah, just not feeling all that great today," Kyle replied, sliding his tray down the lunch line.

Kenny pursed his lips, obviously not convinced. "Ok…. Nothing happened with Stan?"

"No, I actually haven't seen him at all today. Burger or sub?"

"Sub. Hey, so what the hell happened with Cartman?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You know what he's wearing today."

"It's not that big of a deal. Chips?"

"Yes please. You somehow convinced the greatest asshole of all time to follow along with something you started. I consider that a big deal."

"It's not really about that. Besides, I didn't ask him to." Kyle grabbed milk for himself out of the cooler, along with a cherry coke for Kenny.

"I guess it's not a huge change. Well, as long as he doesn't add to my competition to getting girls, then I guess I won't complain."

Kyle snorted, heading toward the cashier. "I have a feeling that isn't going to be a problem."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! You know how Cartman is." Kyle quickly paid the lunch lady and started leading the way to their usual spot.

"Are you sure there isn't anything wrong?" Kenny asked again, genuine concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he lied.

He put the tray down on their regular lunch table, sitting down quickly.

"Hey losers," Cartman greeted.

"Oh, French fries!" Kenny teased, making a grab for Cartman's tray.

"Hey! Get your own food!"

Kyle rolled his eyes, handing the sub, chips, and soda over to Kenny. "He has his own food."

Kenny grinned, accepting the food happily.

"So the teachers are now into this stupid fad," Cartman said.

"And you are too," Kenny observed.

It was true. Cartman had come to school that day with a different top on, and was wearing jeans. He still wore his trademark red jacket over it all, though.

"Shut up," Cartman muttered.

"Yeah," said Kyle, "I did see that a few teachers looked different today."

"Actually," Kenny added, "I noticed that a lot of adults have started doing it."

"Kyle said that he saw Stan's dad had done it."

Kenny laughed. "Ah, that's just priceless. But seriously, I saw two groups of kids arguing in the hallway just before lunch. Fists weren't involved, but it still looked pretty intense."

Kyle opened up his yogurt carefully, wondering if he should tell his friends about his incident earlier that morning. He decided to keep it to himself for now.

"Yeah, it looks like some feel really strongly about it," Cartman said thoughtfully.

"I wonder what's going to happen. Some people aren't too happy about things," Kenny mused.

"Well, a lot of people are doing it just so they can act like assholes."

"True. I can see why some people are upset. I think something big is going to happen."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Can't you sense the tension in the air? It seems to grow every day, and everyone seems to be separating into new groups. I mean, even Wendy's friend group seems to be separating. I'm surprised you haven't noticed, Cartman."

"I've been a bit distracted."

"I bet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

They both paused, looking over at Kyle. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Cartman asked, and Kyle suddenly looked up.

"Nothing!" he insisted.

Neither of them looked like they believed him.

-.-.-.-.-.

Kyle wasn't really sure why he wasn't telling his friends about the bullying problem. It was definitely a distraction to say the least. They had approached him again on Monday, but luckily, only insults were thrown. On Tuesday morning, they walked by while Kyle was walking with his two friends, but they didn't say anything. Instead, they just gave him a threatening look that caused a chill to crawl down his spine. And now it was Tuesday afternoon. Kyle was walking to his last class of the day when they spotted him.

He pursed his lips, studying them thoughtfully. He decided that staying quiet and not angering them further was probably his best bet, so he paused in the middle of the hallway. Students were going to their next class, so they weren't alone. Kyle hoped that this would prevent a fight from breaking out.

"If it isn't Broflovski," the leader snarled, walking up toward him with a grin on his face.

He remained silent.

"I can't believe that everyone in this school tolerates your presence," Michael continued, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "How could they let a fag like you walk amongst them as if you have a right?"

Kyle bit back the string of insults that threatened to escape his lips.

"You know, you piss me off. You walk around as if you fucking own the place. You know, this school used to be semi-decent, but then you had to come back from summer break and fuck it all up. Now we have posers walking around, pretending to be someone they aren't. You filled this school with mindless assholes. Well, we're sick of it. It's time someone does something about it. We're not going to sit around while you convince everyone that they are somehow better than everyone else in South Park. I mean, fuck, it's spreading to the whole town! Well, fuck you, Broflovski. We're going to stop this."

Ok, that was it. "Look, I changed my appearance because I was sick of the way things were! This had nothing to do with convincing others to do the same thing!" His anger rose with every word.

"Don't talk to Michael that way!" one of Michael's friends yelled.

Students were milling in the hallway, watching them with curiosity. Kyle ignored them. "I'll fucking talk to him however I fucking wa-"

He regretted opening his mouth when the fist connected to his still sore ribs. He yelled out in pain, and suddenly they were on him. He vaguely heard the students shouting "Fight, fight!" in the background, but all he could really register was pain. He didn't stand a chance, and so instead he curled up, trying to protect himself from the onslaught. As quickly as it happened, it suddenly stopped, and when he opened his eyes, he saw his attackers fleeing down the hallway, and the students quickly dispersing. He swallowed, stumbling to his feet, and quickly headed into the nearest bathroom to assess the damage.

He stared at his face miserably as he clung to the sink. He hurt all over, but the seniors hadn't hit him anywhere on his face. He stared at his pale reflection, briefly registering that his black eye was healing well.

Kyle wasn't sure how, when, or where, but something had to change. He refused to be treated like this.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Are you sure you're ok? You've been really quiet."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Ken."

"Hmm…" They were walking together down the hallway after school. Word about the fight had travelled quickly, but Kyle was surprised that his name was never mentioned. In fact, neither of his friends suspected his involvement.

"Hey guys."

Kenny and he stopped, glancing over their shoulders. Wendy smiled, approaching them.

"Hi Wendy," Kyle said politely.

"How have you both been?"

"Been better," Kyle answered truthfully.

"Yeah… Stan told me what happened."

Kenny pursed his lips. "I don't mean to be rude, Wendy, but what's up?"

"Well," she started, glancing down the hallway a bit. "Let's go over here…" She led the way into an empty classroom, closing the door after them. "Look. Kyle, I'm sorry about the way Stan has been acting."

"It's ok, Wendy. It isn't your fault."

"I don't know what is with him. I found out about your fight last week. He really didn't mean for it to happen, or for how this whole situation got out of control."

"Me neither. To be honest, I just got really pissed off at him."

"That's understandable, Kyle. But, it's Stan's job to apologize to you, so even though I'm really sorry about the situation, there really isn't much I can do. Actually, there is another reason why I'm here."

Kyle glanced at Kenny, and he looked just as confused as Kyle felt.

Wendy continued. "I'm sure you've both noticed the problems that have started to surface around the school."

"Yeah, there used to never be any fights at this school," Kenny agreed.

"Well, it's because of this whole fad. Now, Kyle, I don't blame you for what you've done; instead, I commend you. You did something to better yourself. But unfortunately, people are using it as an excuse to pretend to be someone they aren't. They are causing a lot of problems, and friendships are breaking up because of it. Some of my best friends have turned into people I don't even recognize. On the other hand, there are people who are completely against it. I heard there was a fight earlier today, and just now, I heard there was a fight going on outside. It's ridiculous. To top it all off, it seems to be spreading outside of our school."

Kyle nodded, but remained quiet as Wendy continued.

"To make matters even worse, I'm friends with some people who are strongly opposed to this. They're starting to band together with others who feel the same way. They feel like half the school has turned into posers. I mean, I agree to a certain point, but I can also see why people are acting the way they are. The school is dividing, guys, and pretty soon, so will the town of South Park."

"I don't really see what we're supposed to do about it," Kenny cut in. "I mean, what the hell can we do? We aren't in charge of these people. They're the ones making their own decisions."

"I'm suggesting that we band together. We have to stop this nonsense before it gets out of hand!"

"And how the hell are we supposed to do that?" Kenny asked.

"I don't know. That's why I've come to you guys. You're group has single-handedly fixed most of the catastrophic problems that have befallen South Park in the past. If anyone can put South Park back the way it was, it's you."

"We've also been the cause of many of them," Kenny grinned.

"And some argue that it's your fault this has happened as well," Wendy pointed out.

Kyle pursed his lips, considering what Wendy had said. "I don't really know how to fix this, Wendy. But you're right – although I didn't mean for this to happen, it started with me. I should be the one to fix this."

"This isn't your fault," Kenny argued.

"No, maybe not, Ken, but it's because of my actions this happened, and you can't really argue with that. And Wendy's right – this school is falling apart."

"So you'll help?" Wendy asked.

"Yes."

"Good!" She clapped her hands together. "Now, there is just one more problem to address."

"What's that?"

"Stan. We need him on our side for this."

"You're probably our best bet for that, Wendy. Last time Stan and I talked, we each walked away with huge bruises and sore fists."

"I'll try, but he can be stubborn sometimes."

"I can try talking with him as well," Kenny cut in. "However, I haven't been able to convince him to talk with Kyle yet, so I'm not really confident that I'll convince him this time."

"He'll come around. Eventually," she said confidently.

"Ok, well… if anyone comes up with any ideas of how to stop this, then we'll let the others know," Kyle said. "I'll talk to Cartman about all of this too, and see if he has any suggestions."

"Cartman?" Wendy asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Kyle nodded. "He'll be on our side. Besides, he usually comes up with the best ideas anyhow."

"Ok," she agreed, not sounding convinced. "Well, good luck guys. I have to get home." She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, the boys following her. "Let me know if anything happens."

Kyle glanced down the nearly empty hallway and spotted Stan. "Uh, guys? Stan alert."

The three of them looked down the hallway at him. He was chatting with a group of guys but hadn't noticed them.

"I better get going before he sees me with you," Wendy muttered. "See you both later." She quickly slipped away.

"I think I'm going to try to talk to him now," Kenny said, scratching his head. "I'll see you later tonight?"

"Sure thing." Kyle sighed softly. "Do you really think something bad is going to happen?"

"I do. See you."

Kyle watched Kenny head toward Stan and his friends. Wendy had been right – if they didn't do something soon, the whole situation would escalate.

"Hey Stan!" he heard Kenny greet Stan as Kyle turned to head out of the school.

As he walked home, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Then again, that could have just been from the punches earlier. He wasn't really sure.