Author Note: Huge thanks to let's point out the obvious, xxSay, NotebookChen, Harry Lvr and Andatariel.x! I'm so glad that everyone was pleased to see Craig (I love Craig) and Kindergoth – although he's absent until the next chapter, he'll be around later!
Anyone who read my story Possessions might recognise the name of the OC who gets mentioned here – I tend to use background characters more than once through sheer laziness. I needed some other students to be in the story too, you can't have a school with only a few kids in it, so he got nominated. And just as in the last chapter, I'm anticipating that there might yet be a lynching... um, love you guys, don't hurt me?
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You've always got something to hide, something you just can't tell...
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Brittle is the first word that comes to Ike's mind when he sees Bebe Stevens, completely unexpectedly, sitting at the bar. He had been early for meeting Keiran and nervously looking for the drunk he saw there earlier that day, not found him and his eyes happened upon her as he swept the area. She is trailing a finger around the rim of her glass, kicking a foot idly against the floor. It has been years, but Ike recognises the cloud of blonde curls and the knock-out figure – and yet, she seems fragile beneath her outwardly sophisticated exterior, given away by her constant nervous motions, the way she taps her fingernails on the bar and constantly shifts her position.
He hesitates a moment, then goes over and introduces himself. Usually he would not have been so forward, especially with a girl who looks like she does, the type that see his bookish exterior and dismiss him with a certain amount of disdain, an emotion that may or may not disappear upon seeing his expensive possessions, depending up on her own circumstances. But Bebe does not dismiss him. The moment he tells her his name, her face breaks out into a big smile that does not quite mask the sadness beneath it.
"Little Ike Broflovski, all grown up," she says, motioning for the barman to get her another drink and one for Ike as well. The barman does as he is bid, entranced by Bebe's attractiveness. "You've gotten so handsome. You look a lot like your brother."
Ike debates reminding Bebe that he is adopted and decides not to, although it was no secret people often forgot the fact and it has been a long time, it must have escaped Bebe's recollect too. And secretly, Ike is a little flattered to be compared to Kyle for any reason.
Bebe engages him in conversation, apparently a woman who wants to be liked or admired. She tells Ike of her new life away from South Park, her wonderful fiancé and his wonderful job, the wonderful apartment they live in. She seems slightly anxious, afraid to stop talking, as if seeking his approval – but maybe, he reflects, that is the main reason people return to their school reunions, to show the doubters and taunters of their youth that yes, they did make a success of their lives. High school tends to be where people are at their least emotionally secure and those criticisms and doubts linger.
He has to wonder just how wonderful the fiancé is when he has foregone returning to town with his wife-to-be and she is sitting alone in a bar getting blotto and dressed as she is, giving Ike mildly flirtatious glances. He scolds himself – she might just be that kind of person and he is under no illusions as to his attractiveness – although he is almost sure he is not imagining it. But then, she dated Kyle for a time before he died and has already said that Ike reminds her of him, perhaps it is the ghost of years past that influences her behaviour. And of course, it is that past rather than a genuine desire for her company that led Ike to approach her.
She finally asks how he has fared in the years between and Ike can sense her anxiety – she does not want the looming spectre of Kyle to rattle its chains. He can tell it is a subject she has no desire to revisit.
But she'll talk, if you ask, says Kyle assuredly. She starts on a subject and talks until her words run out. She already has been doing, you just need to ask the right questions. And appeal to her sense of moral obligation.
"I'm in research," says Ike, answering her question. "I don't live in South Park anymore, we moved away after Kyle died. I don't know if you remember."
Bebe gives a barely perceptible flinch at the mention of Kyle's death and Ike takes the opportunity to press the issue. "I'm back because I heard about the reunion and I knew that a lot of people that knew Kyle would be in town. I'm just trying to find out more about him, what he was like, y'know? And what he was doing in those last few weeks, right before... well, right before it happened."
"You should talk to Stan or Kenny," says Bebe promptly, then grimaces, as if the suggestion is painful. Ike blinks in confusion, he does not understand the expression at all. If she had looked sad or angry with either of them, then perhaps, but not this look of unhappy guilt. "They were – well, his friends would know better than anyone."
"I'm going to talk to them," agrees Ike, sipping at his drink and realising that Bebe has downed most of hers already. He doesn't know how many she had before they began talking, but she seems at least slightly tipsy. "The thing is, I don't know what to say for the best." He hesitates, wondering if he should tell Bebe everything and decides that yes, a shock might be the way to break through her barriers. And he has no doubt she has put them in place, she has as good as said don't ask me questions about Kyle.
"My brother was gay," he said, watching Bebe carefully and noticing that she looks upset, but not surprised. As if she already knew. "He didn't tell his family and I don't know how many people knew, but I've heard conflicting stories. It sounds like he was seeing Stan and Kenny at the same time and about the time he died, Kenny got beaten to a pulp. I don't know if Stan found out and did something or if..."
Bebe laughs, cutting him off. Not a real laugh, no humour in it, but the kind of laugh that suggests she can't believe he is saying what he is saying. "Oh. Oh, Ike, you're so close and yet so far. Stan would never have hurt Kenny like that, and he couldn't have anyway. Kenny didn't have those bruises at the game and Stan was in the hospital after that."
Ike knew this already, but fakes a puzzled frown. "Then what the hell was going on? I mean, was he seeing either of them, or has someone told me something wrong? Was he gay at all?"
Bebe stares at him through mascara rimmed blue eyes and it occurs to Ike that she truly is beautiful. Except now, her veneer of sophistication seems to have deserted her, leaving him able to see something of the teenage girl she used to be, somewhat insecure and uncertain.
Abruptly, she signals for another drink. "Screw it. You've come looking for the truth and I guess I owe it to you to tell you what I know, before you talk to the others. No, wait, I don't owe it to you. I owe it to them." She gives another of those harsh laughs that have no real bearing on humour. "Not that I know much. But it might explain a few things to you. I don't know what Kyle was doing out there and I don't know what happened to Kenny, although I can make a guess."
Her drink arrives and Ike opts for another beer, paying for it himself and telling the barman to keep the change. He does not want another interruption. Bebe takes a healthy swig of the drink and Ike makes a mental note to keep an eye on her while she remains, or maybe to ensure she gets a cab home.
"When I was twenty-two, the guy I'd been dating since I was nineteen asked me to marry him," she says, looking down at her drink with a small, angry smile on her face. "I accepted. And the next day, I told him what happened back then, I thought we shouldn't have any secrets. Two weeks later, he broke off the engagement, dumped me, moved on. He said he'd made a mistake, but I always wondered if it wasn't because of what I told him – if he'd got a look at the kind of person I could be and didn't like what he saw. I never told anyone else, not even my new fiancé Just in case he hated me for it too."
She taps her fingernails on the side of the glass, clearly thinking of how to begin. "You don't understand what it was like for me," she says eventually. "And you probably won't. How jealous I was, how angry and I just wanted to hurt him, the way he was hurting me..." She shakes her head. "Wait." She takes another drink and Ike can see her already longing for a cigarette.
Bebe Stevens is the prettiest girl in the school and she knows it. At seventeen, she is tall, clear-skinned, slim and yet blessed with amazing curves. She has passed through the fantasies of most of the boys in school at some point or another, not that most of them would ever dare to approach her in the flesh. Bebe is the kind of girl who is destined for one of the popular boys, one half of the perfect high school couple.
Bebe however, has other ideas.
She is an average student, prone to flashes of excellence in the subjects she truly enjoys and the occasional low mark in those she doesn't. She is given to shallowness on occasion, thinking more of status or appearance than was really necessary and yet sometimes puts them aside entirely. In other words, a typical teenage girl who just happens to look like a fashion model and like any other teenage girl, sometimes over-estimates her own importance or becomes mired in self-doubt.
Although she has had boyfriends in the school, most notably Clyde Donovan for a short time and Mitchell Curtis for slightly longer – and what an asswipe that boy was – some people find it surprising that she does not date more and speculate that she prefers older boys, who can supply her with beer or dope. Bebe has dated outside of school, but is only interested in beer and dope at parties rather than as frequent relaxation and she has no desire to become mired in a relationship with any of the losers who stay in South Park once high school has spat them out. And there is only one boy in school that she really likes – not that she has shared this secret with anyone since they entered middle school.
Kyle Broflovski is not the kind of boy anyone would have imagined Bebe being enamoured with. He is attractive enough, relatively popular, well thought of. But he is studious rather than sporty, philosophical rather than shallow, barely an inch taller than her. Yet it is these things that attract her, he's so different to herself and she finds his brains far more appealing than the muscles and posturing of the usual teenage crowd. And Kyle is not unattractive either, in spite of the red curls that so many mock. He has the most amazing dark eyes, a strong profile and a great ass. And secretly, she wants to be with Kyle.
But on the occasions she has tried to act upon her interest, she has not been able to arouse his. They have been on dates, two dances and she was the one who invited him to both. He accepted graciously enough and showed her a pleasant time. After the second, he kissed her gently in the parking lot before they got into the car and Bebe thought she had died and gone to Heaven. Had Kyle taken her to a secluded area and suggested they got in the back seat, she would have been there and ready to take off her expensive dress in a heartbeat. But he didn't, just took her home and never asked her out again. She understands, or thinks she does; before each she had broken up with a boyfriend before asking him, Clyde the first time, Mitchell the second. She believes Kyle thinks he is a substitute, being used to make them jealous. It isn't true, the break-ups were both instigated so that she could ask Kyle to the dances.
Kyle has also tutored her on occasion and she finds him patient with her, friendly, but not flirty. Perhaps, she thinks, she is too subtle. After all, Kyle has never turned her down and maybe it would be no hardship for her to do the chasing this time. She is used to men falling all over her, Kyle is a refreshing change and for him, she does not mind being the one to risk rejection. Not that she truly believes she will be rejected of course, no one has ever turned Bebe Stevens down.
It is thinking this that finally drives her to make her move, choosing a Friday night to put her plan into action. She chooses her clothes with care, not wanting to look flighty and trampy – that would probably chase him away – but needing to look cute and hopefully quite chaste. It will be a challenge, Bebe is used to advertising although in reality there is no need to sell herself, her looks speak for themselves. She makes her way to Kyle's house in ankle boots, slim fitting jeans, a close-fitting white T-shirt and a leather jacket, timeless and casual, yet still hot.
When she arrives, she sees that the family car is not in the driveway, although the lights are on, and feels a slight thrill go through her. Her mind brings forth a fantasy, Kyle left on his own while his parents and brother go out, perhaps dreaming of her while he watches TV. When he answers the door, he will smile in the way that makes his eyes light up, take her into his arms before she can even get the words out and kiss her, right on the doorstep where the world can see that she is Kyle Broflovski's girl.
Of course, it will be no good if he is babysitting his little brother, younger siblings tend to get in the way as soon as they see someone of the opposite sex with an attraction to their brother. Ike could well start making comments and interfering and she will not be able to say what she wants, it will just be embarrassing. She decides that she will sneak a look through the window where the light is coming from, if Kyle is there alone, she will knock at the door. If he is with his brother, or his brother is there alone, she will retreat and try another day. Her nerve is starting to fail her, although she knows he could not say no when she asks for a date – who could? – she is unused to being the asker.
So thinking, Bebe goes up to the window and peeks through a gap in the curtains.
Although Ike is not there – she does not know it, but he has gone to spend the night at Filmore's house with three other rambunctious pre-teen boys – Kyle is not alone. Stan and Kenny are with him, which would be enough to make her back off and leave anyway. But on this night, she takes a look, her jaw drops and she immediately ducks to the ground beneath the window, unmindful of her expensive designer jeans. Her thoughts are shocked and repetitive; she has not seen what she thinks she saw. A quick glance through the window has given her the wrong idea, a second look would disprove her initial impression and show her a completely different scene.
So she takes a second look through the window and realises that her first impression was accurate, but still she does not believe it. She thinks that perhaps she is home dreaming or perhaps hit her head on the sill as she dropped out of sight because he literally does not believe the evidence of her own eyes.
Kyle, Stan and Kenny are on the couch, the room is dark and the television is on, although she cannot see the screen she can see the way the light plays over the room. Stan is the one most likely to see her should he look toward the window, he is facing that way, but his attention is on Kenny, who is leaning with his back against Stan's body. Stan's head is buried in the crook of Kenny's neck, his hand in Kenny's hair and even from the distance, Bebe can see that Stan is planting slow kisses on Kenny's neck. It looks as if he might be smiling as he does so.
Kenny's head is tipped back against Stan's shoulder, tilted to one side so Stan is better able to reach his neck. Bebe has rarely seen Kenny without more layers of clothing than any other kid in school, but now his shirt is cast aside and his naked torso is on display. His eyes are closed, his lips form a sentence that she cannot hear through the glass. His one hand is stroking down Stan's thigh, the other...
The other is threaded in Kyle's red curls and Bebe cannot see all of Kenny's chest because Kyle's head is in the way. But what she can see is that Kyle – her Kyle – is nuzzling his way up Kenny's body, leaving a trail of kisses, both hands on the blondes hips.
Bebe feels simultaneously hot and angry, yet chilled deep inside her chest. Her heart is beating too fast, she can feel her pulse beating in her temples, like a throbbing headache. Her vision seems to mist, sending the scene in front of her into soft focus and her fists are clenched so hard that one of her acrylic nails digs into the soft flesh of her hand deep enough to leave a cut, then snaps off. She can hear her own breath coming in shallow, harsh pants and yet the sound seems to be distant.
How can this be happening? Of all the possible scenarios that occurred to her, this was not one of them. It was a slap in the face, rejection on every level possible. Not only had Kyle not even given her the chance to ask him out, he had crushed her dreams without even realising or caring, he had chosen someone else over her – two someone's and they both had something that she didn't. Penises for one thing. She had assumed he couldn't find anyone better than her and yet he had somehow found two people, two men he would rather be with.
She feels rejected, neglected, abandoned. She feels worthless, as if nothing she can ever do will be worth anything because she will never be good enough. But more than that, she feels anger. Anger that she had wanted Kyle and he has chosen others over her, anger that she has been made a fool of, even if no one else knows about it, not even Kyle himself.
As she watches, Kyle's lips close over Kenny's nipple and the blonde's chest hitches, his lips parting although she cannot hear the moan that falls from his lips. He arches his back slightly and Stan takes the opportunity to bite at the soft skin between neck and shoulder. Kenny's eyes open wide and for a heart-stopping moment, Bebe thinks she will be seen. But Kenny's eyes are glazed and he is paying no attention to the window and what lies beyond the almost-closed curtains.
Bebe grinds her teeth, beautiful face made ugly by the hateful scowl on it. It should not be Kenny on the receiving end of Kyle's lips, certainly not at the same time as Stan was kissing his neck. It should be her. It should be her and Kyle and no one else. Instead, it's Kenny fucking McCormick and presumably Stan fucking Marsh who are with him in a way that Bebe has always wanted to be. She can almost hear the shattering sound of her harmless dreams crashing down.
Unthinkingly, her hand reaches for her mobile phone. She is not thinking of what this means for the future or their lives or that she could be found out. Her mind is on revenge; revenge on Stan and Kenny for daring to seduce the man she wanted, revenge on Kyle for wanting them and not her. If it had been one of them she could have lived with knowing Kyle was gay, or so she tells herself. But this threesome – this is sick and she feels as if she has been cheated on, betrayed.
She raises the phone to the window and scowls more as she sees Kyle kiss Kenny's shoulder and lean up, entwining a hand in Stan's hair and pulling him in for a kiss. Kyle's other hand strokes at Kenny's chest and Stan also runs his fingers over Kenny as he responds to Kyle, Kenny raising his head up to watch them, the lust clear in his face.
She takes the picture and checks it over, a dark smirk crossing her face as she sees she has captured the scene perfectly. It is clear exactly what the three of them are up to. In the back of her mind is the thought of blackmail, that perhaps she will not share this picture on the condition that Kyle immediately stops groping his friends on the couch and behaves like the caring, straight boyfriend she has always hoped he would be.
The Kyle leans back, breaking contact with both boys and Bebe freezes. Did they see something at the window that would give her away, perhaps hear the minute click as she pressed the button?
Apparently not. Kyle stands and reaches out, taking one of Kenny's hands and pulling the blonde to his feet, his arm going around the boy as he repeats the action with Stan. Stan almost stumbles against the pair of them and there is laughter that she can see but can't hear, affectionate smiles, lingering touches. She thinks for a moment that it is over, that they will put their clothes on and go back to watching their film.
Instead, Kyle pulls Stan's shirt off over his head and grins, arm still around Kenny. He plants a kiss right on Stan's chest, then leads his two best friends toward the stairs. Bebe watches blankly as they vanish from view, her mind racing and filled with fury. They are going to Kyle's room, all three of them, and she doesn't need to watch to know just what they are doing in there.
But she still has the picture and she can still teach them a lesson. No one rejects Bebe Stevens and certainly not to indulge in deviant sex with other men.
She will get her own back.
She heads away from the house, walking to the corner and searching through the names on her phone until she comes across the boy that she dumped to ask Kyle to a dance, Mitchell Curtis. Football player, jock, generically handsome and possibly the most disliked boy in school after Cartman, thanks to his nasty, bullying ways. He is feared, fearless and has a surprisingly creative streak when it comes to being cruel.
He will be the first person to see the picture that Bebe has taken, but he will not be the last.
Bebe stops talking, staring into her drink. Ike stares at her with wide eyes. She has said that she couldn't believe what she was seeing, right now, he cannot believe what he is hearing.
"Kyle wasn't just gay," he says flatly. "He was polygamous. He was seeing Stan and Kenny and they knew about each other and they all, what, joined in? Do you know how, how – how that sounds?"
She shrugs. "It's true. And anyway, so what if Kyle was involved with both of them at the same time? Does it matter?"
Raising her head, she gives Ike a defiant look. "Yeah, now I can see it was none of my business. Now I know it's not a big deal, that all of them should have been entitled to do what they want with each other in their own house. But back then – I don't know. I can remember it so clearly and I don't recognise the person I was, the way I behaved was – well, unforgivable. It really was. It's like watching someone else, seeing their thoughts but not understanding them. It wasn't like me at all. It was just – I don't know."
She sighs. "Have you ever been so angry that you can't see, can't think? Have you ever been so hurt that you just want to make everyone else hurt as much as you do and laugh while they suffer?"
Ike is human and he has felt that way, more than once. He nods.
Bebe gives a humourless and slightly drunken laugh. "The worst part is, I had no reason to feel like that. Kyle and I were never a couple, only in my dreams and when they got ruined, I ruined him. Or I would have done, if things had been different. It was Friday when I saw them, Saturday when Stan got hurt. And Sunday when they found Kyle."
She signals for yet another drink and although the barman looks slightly doubtful, he serves her anyway. Ike starts to request another beer, although his bottle is over half full, then changes his mind and has a shot of whisky. He feels like he has been hit over the head with something heavy. There seems to be nothing more that he can say, but the thought keeps going around in his mind. Kyle was not just gay – Ike is gay and it does not bother him that his brother had that preference too. It is knowing that Kyle was in a relationship with two men, who knew about each other. How did they manage that, without the jealousy and possessiveness? Did Stan or Kenny choose to get Kyle out of the way, remove the third person so that they could be a couple? But that seemed so... dramatic.
Unless it was two of them who liked each other more than the third and the third who decided to rid himself of the competition. Ike's mind slips to the past and how it was always Stan and Kyle, Kyle and Stan. Kenny was on the edges of that, or so he seems to remember, dead or so quiet that he barely seemed to be there. And Kenny was the last person to see Kyle alive.
Bebe climbs from her stool, stumbles a little. Ike reaches out to catch her arm and steady her. She looks back at him, blue eyes sad.
"You told this guy Mitchell," says Ike, not aware that he is going to ask until the words come. "Could he have gone after Kyle?"
"He didn't have a thing to do with what happened to Kyle," replies Bebe and Ike knows he believes her. Simply put, she is too drunk to convincingly lie. "I was with Mitchell Friday night and I met the entire team right after the game Saturday. We partied pretty hard and – well, the photo didn't get further than it had that night. It might have been because of what happened to Stan, but they were lying low on that score. Didn't want a reason for anyone to think they had it in for him. They would have posted it somewhere Monday for sure, maybe earlier – but the next morning, everyone knew that Kyle was dead and that having that picture immediately put them into the frame for causing it. Everyone who had it deleted it right then."
She sighs, a tear making its way down her flawless cheek. "Everything I've done since then has been because of that night. Every choice, every decision. Because actions have consequences, I learned that the hard way. And you don't know what they're gonna be or who they're going to affect. Sometimes, I'm crippled with indecision. I can't make a choice, because I'm still living with the results of the wrong one. Kyle killed himself... and I'd be fooling myself if I didn't think I had plenty to do with that."
Pulling away from Ike's arm, she heads slowly to the ladies room, leaving Ike to struggle with what he has heard.