Author's Note: Each chapter title will be the name of a song from the musical, although I'm leaving out a few songs, such as "Prima Donna."

Because I Love You

Chapter Two: Think of Me

He breathed in deeply, allowing the fresh mountain air to completely fill his lungs. It was a quiet and serene day, much quieter than he'd grown accustomed to ever since he'd moved to New York. It felt disorienting to be back in his hometown after being away for so long. Not much had changed about the town since he'd last visited. In fact, he found himself filled with memories as he passed by different places that were such big parts of his childhood – the elementary school, Stark's Pond, Shaky's Pizza. All of those memories had shaped him into the person he was today, kind, caring and sensitive.

That person was none other than Stan Marsh. He walked at a quickened pace, fueled with the energy from the crisp, winter air. The first place he'd visited was his parents' home, and both his mom and his dad had been beyond excited to see their son. Sharon had cried tears of joy as she hugged and kissed him, while Randy, already drunk, had sloppily fallen into Stan's arms like he'd never wanted to let go. Not even five minutes home, he'd managed to give Stan what he'd patented his own sage advice.

"Remember, Stanley," Randy hiccupped, hanging off of his son, "prostitution is NEVER the answer!

"I know, Dad," Stan said, appeasing him, as he let out a warm chuckle. "Thanks."

Having worked hard in college to earn a teaching degree, Stan was currently working toward earning his master's in the field. He'd moved to New York City, the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps, which was, indeed, a stark contrast to little old South Park. It had taken Stan some getting used to, being surrounded by people who were always in a hurry, the constant traffic and loud noises, but it was an exciting place filled with thriving life and interesting people. He wouldn't trade it for the world. The only downside, of course, was that he was away from his friends and family.

Approaching his best friend's house now, Stan walked a bit more briskly, a smile already stretching across his face. He hadn't seen Kyle since he'd moved to New York, nearly a year ago now. The two of them kept in touch via e-mails and phone calls, but with their busy schedules, they were lucky if they each had five solid minutes to sit down and have a conversation with each other. Having graduated from Harvard University with a perfect 4.0 GPA, Kyle was well on his way to obtaining his doctorate. He'd studied medicine, and he planned on becoming a pediatrician one day.

After college, Kyle had decided to move back to South Park. He'd thought about living elsewhere, but in the end, he wanted to be close to his family, and frankly, he knew that there was nowhere else he'd rather be. He'd purchased his own home, which, as Stan approached it, couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's home but his. The beige house had blue shutters on the windows and a small garage, where a shiny red car was parked. Despite the snow on the ground, there was some vivid green shrubbery, along with a clear path leading up to the thick brown door of the well-kept house that had Kyle written all over it.

Standing on the doorstep, Stan rapidly knocked on the door, and he didn't stop until the door flung open and Kyle Broflovski himself stood there before him. They both froze for a second, broad grins on their faces, as words couldn't describe how good it felt to finally see each other in person.

"Well?" Stan said at last, still grinning ear to ear. "You gonna stand there all day as I freeze my ass off out here, or are you going to let me in?"

Kyle answered by throwing his arms around Stan in a hearty embrace, which he happily accepted with a delighted laugh. They hugged each other warmly, like brothers, which, in many ways, they were. They were as close as two friends could be, having been through so much crazy shit together, all thanks to growing up in this crazy little town of South Park. No matter how much time they were apart, it always felt like no time had passed at all when they finally reunited.

"Holy shit, how long are you guys going to stand there and hug each other like a couple of queers?"

Stan froze at the sound of that familiar voice. "No fucking way. Kenny? Is that really you?!"

The blonde appeared behind Kyle's shoulder, flashing a devilish smirk. "It's really me, baby," he said, and he held his arms open wide. "Now how about giving your old pal, Kenny, some love?"

Kyle let go of Stan, allowing him to dive into Kenny's open arms.

Kenny had managed to make a decent living for himself after college, procuring a job as a nutritionist, of all things. His previously unkempt blonde hair was now trim and shiny, and he was no longer as skinny as he once was. As a matter of fact, now that he wasn't a dirt-poor kid but instead a successful adult, he was finally able to take care of himself and live a much healthier life. That didn't mean he no longer liked to party, which he did, a lot, but he had his shit together, and he felt good about it.

"Dude, what are you doing here?" Stan asked as he drew back from the embrace.

Kenny looked over at Kyle, who couldn't help rolling his eyes, as Kenny had a teasing smile on his face now. In that moment, Kyle knew what Kenny was about to say, yet he didn't bother to stop him because, hell, Kenny was still Kenny. He liked to have his fun.

"Well, if you must know," Kenny said, struggling to keep a straight face, "me and Kyle are lovers."

Stan raised a brow, while Kyle shook his head and released a hard sigh. "You're such a pain in the ass, dude," he said, shutting the door and leading the way through his living room.

"Yeah, but you still love me," Kenny said as he and Stan followed.

The living room was tidy, with cream-colored walls, a white rug, a glass coffee table, a sleek plasma screen TV on the wall, and a leather couch which looked as though it hadn't even been sat in yet. It was all so Kyle.

"No, dude, seriously, why are you here, Kenny?" Stan asked, crossing into Kyle's kitchen, which was just as spotless as the living room. He and Kenny each took a seat on one of the empty stools by the counter.

"I had some time off work," Kenny said, "and Kyle said you'd be coming today, so I knew I had to come, too." He nudged Stan. "You guys know it ain't a party 'til Kenny's around."

"Very true," Stan said. He rested his elbows against the granite countertop, watching as Kyle pulled open his stainless steel refrigerator, where he grabbed a pitcher of iced tea and set it down in front of them. "Dude, Kyle, this is a really nice house you've got."

"Thanks," Kyle said, shutting the refrigerator and turning to the cabinets to get some glasses. "I'm sure it's nowhere near as nice as your fancy apartment in New York, though."

"Oh, holy shit, I totally forgot that you live in New York," Kenny said in excitement, and he nudged Stan's side once more. "An apartment all to yourself, huh? Bet you must have orgies all the time."

"Dude," Stan said in horror, though he let out a chuckle. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"That's a good question," Kenny said. "Fortunately, the answer's not important." He reached for the pitcher of iced tea, helping himself to a glass. After pouring a generous amount, he filled up the other two glasses as well, handing one to Kyle and sliding the other one over to Stan. "A toast," he said, raising his glass, and Stan and Kyle did the same. "I couldn't have asked for better friends. I could maybe ask for hotter ones, but they're probably already taken by now, so you guys are good enough. Cheers!"

The three of them clinked their glasses and drank some of the refreshing beverage. Kenny downed it in one long gulp, slamming his cup on the counter when he was finished.

"Delicious," he said. "Not as good as an ice cold beer, but hey, I take what I can get."

Stan let out another laugh, and even after the lighthearted moment passed, a smile remained on his face. "Wow, dude, this really feels like old times."

"Sure does," Kenny said, picking up the pitcher and refilling his glass. "'Course, all that's missing is Cartman."

Kyle visibly tensed at that, his fingers clenching around his glass. Luckily for him, neither one of them noticed, too caught up in their own musings.

"I wonder where he is now," Stan said.

Kenny shrugged, setting the now empty pitcher down. "Probably in prison or something."

Kyle let out a faint, nervous chuckle. "Yeah, probably," he said, all the while drumming his fingertips against his glass, knowing it would only be a matter of time before they found out the truth.

The theater in Denver was big and lavish, with rich, maroon curtains that matched the hundreds of velvet seats. There was a large, sparkling chandelier at the center of the theater. It was made of pure crystals, a beautiful work of art. The room was packed, audience members in their seats, flitting through their programs, anxiously waiting for the show to begin.

Meanwhile, up in the balcony and nowhere near as excited as the rest of the audience, was Kenny. He had his feet up on the seat in front of him and his arms folded behind his head.

"Do we really have to sit here for the next two and a half hours and watch this shit?" he asked, a question not well received by Kyle, who lowered his brows as he shot Kenny an angry look. "Seriously, what made you think we'd actually want to go see some gay little play, Kyle?"

"First of all, it's a ballet," Kyle said.

"Oh, wow, what a horrible fucking mistake I've made," Kenny said, waving his hands in mock surrender. "For real, though, is it too late for us to bail? I can't take this shit much longer. I'm pretty sure my ass is already starting to falling asleep."

"Dude, we're not bailing," Kyle said. "Bebe gave me this tickets, and–"

"Ohhhh, Bebe," Kenny said, suddenly full of interest. He sat up in his seat, letting his feet slump off the seat in front of him. "I get it now."

"Get what?" Kyle asked, genuinely clueless.

Kenny grinned his shit-eating grin everyone knew all too well from him. "Still trying to nail her, huh?"

Kyle's face immediately turned as red as his hair, and his feeble voice didn't help him in the slightest as he attempted to deny it by muttering, "No, she's just my friend."

"Your friend who you've wanted to bone since we all hit puberty," Kenny said. He reached out and jostled Kyle a bit, hoping to ease his embarrassment. "C'mon, man. It's okay to finally admit it. We all know you've been in love with Bebe for years. Why don't you just ask her out already?"

Thankfully for Kyle's sake, his blush managed to subside, allowing him to procure any last bit of composure he once had. "I can't just ask her out, Kenny," he said at last. "For one thing, she just broke up with Clyde."

"No shit?" Kenny said, sounding surprised. "What happened?"

"She caught him cheating on her," Kyle said.

"Oh, fuck, that's rough," Kenny said. He fell silent for a moment, only to immediately brighten up again. "Well, fuck, Kyle, now's your perfect opportunity! Ask her out while she's all weak and vulnerable and struggling to get over her newly realized trust issues."

"Dude!" Kyle said, practically shrieking over how appalled he was. "That's fucked up."

"Fucked up, or ingenious?" Kenny said, his shit-eating grin returning once more as he batted his eyes.

Kyle didn't have a chance to retort, though, because that was when Stan, who'd been sitting in silence the whole time, gasped out of nowhere.

"DUDE!" he shouted, and his hand shot out to grab Kyle's arm, squeezing it more tightly than necessary.

"Ow," Kyle said as he winced and sharply turned his head to Stan. "What, dude?"

"Dude," Stan repeated, finally letting go of Kyle's arm. He grasped his program with both hands and stared at it as if was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen in the world. "You didn't tell me Wendy Testaburger was in this play."

"Ballet," Kenny corrected slyly.

"Stan," Kyle began, purposely bypassing Kenny's unhelpful interjection, "I didn't tell you because I knew if I did you'd get all crazy and–"

"And you and Wendy broke up a million fucking years ago, so why would it matter?" Kenny intervened. "Move on, man."

"It wasn't that long ago," Stan said defensively, "and I have moved on."

Both Kyle and Kenny stared at Stan with incredulous looks on their faces, and he lowered his eyebrows, not appreciating it in the slightest.

"Look," he said, "Wendy and I may have gone off in different directions in our lives, but we still care about each other, and we've even stayed friends."

Kenny full-on scoffed now.

"Screw off," Stan said, irritated. He rose to his feet. "I'm gonna go find her."

Kyle, however, grabbed him by the arm before he could move. "Dude, no. The ballet's about to start any minute now. You'll have to wait 'til after the show."

"Fine," Stan said, reluctantly sitting back down.

With that, the three of them fell silent, awaiting the show to begin.

"Three minutes, people," the director, a frazzled man gripping a clipboard, said as he ran around backstage. "You hear me? Not five, not four, THREE!"

As dancers and crew members milled about backstage, Wendy Testaburger stood calmly in her dressing room, staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror. A pair of sparkling brown eyes stared back at her. She inhaled a deep breath, and as she slowly exhaled, a confident smile graced her face. This was it. After months of preparation and rehearsals, tonight had finally arrived. Opening night.

It had been a long and arduous journey to get here, but Wendy was so grateful for this next chapter of her life. Having gone away to college to study psychology, Wendy had graduated at the top of her class, but she'd come to discover that she'd still found herself unfulfilled. She'd later learned through her best friend, Bebe Stevens, of a performing arts academy, and she decided to give it a shot and tap into her long-forgotten love of dancing.

And now, here she was.

Wendy made her way to the stage, where most of the ballerinas had already gathered, taking their positions. There was a nervous fluttering of excitement buzzing through the air that was completely contagious, as Wendy couldn't help but grin as she, too, took her place on stage. She caught sight of Bebe, a beauty in her pink leotard and blonde hair in a perfect bun, doing last-minute stretches. She turned around and met Wendy's gaze, and she smiled really wide and waved at Wendy, who waved back, clasping her hands together as she drew in a deep breath.

This was it.

A flourish of applause rang out through the theater as the dancers on stage all took their bows. Even the once-skeptical Kenny now clapped enthusiastically, nudging Kyle.

"Shit, that was actually good," he said. "Good call on forcing us to come here tonight."

"I didn't force you to do anything, you dipshit," Kyle said.

"Jesus, dude, when the hell are you gonna lighten up?" Kenny asked. "Back me up, Stan."

It was only then that he noticed the empty seat next to Kyle, who looked at is as well before looking back at Kenny.

"Stan ditching us for Wendy," Kenny said, and he almost chuckled as he shook his head. "It's like fucking high school all over again."

There was a flurry of activity backstage as the performers ran about, giving each other hugs and congratulating one another on an excellent show. Amidst all the chaos, Stan had walked in, only to pause as he looked around for any sight of Wendy. He didn't know where to start. His eyes wandered to a hallway where some people were heading, and he figured that was as good a place as any to go find her. Just as he was about to head there, the sound of a familiar voice stopped him.

"Stan Marsh? Is that you?"

He turned around without missing a beat, and he was met with a beaming blonde rushing up to him to envelop him in a hug, which he gladly accepted.

"Hi, Bebe," he said with a warm laugh. "It's great to see you."

"Oh my goodness, it's been so long!" Bebe said, drawing back from the hug to look Stan over. "Gosh, you look great. Same blue eyes."

"You too," Stan said.

A brief silence followed as Bebe took in the nervous-looking grin on Stan's face. His eyes shifted away from her to look around, and she only smiled gently, knowing he didn't need to say anything for her to understand the real reason he'd come backstage.

"Wendy just headed off to her dressing room," she said, and she couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle as Stan looked right at her again with slightly widened eyes, realizing he'd been caught. She patted his shoulder in hopes to put him back at ease. "Right down that hallway." She pointed to the hallway he was staring at just a few moments ago. "Third door on the right."

Stan offered Bebe a sheepish smile. "Thanks."

With that, he quickly headed in that direction. The hallway had since cleared, and as he passed each door, he felt a twisting feeling in his gut that only grew more and more intense. He hadn't experienced those stomach-churning butterflies since he was a kid, and now, in mere seconds, he'd be face-to-face with Wendy Testaburger. He approached her dressing room door now and stopped in front of it. The fluttering feeling in his stomach was stronger than ever before. What would he even say to her? He probably should've thought this through, but it was too late now. He was here, and he wasn't going to chicken out and leave just because he hadn't thought of what he was going to say.

He found himself drawing in a breath, exhaling in a quiet sigh. It didn't really calm him, but it would have to do. Bracing himself, he reached up with one hand and knocked on the door.

"Bebe?" he heard her call, and he felt his heartbeat quicken, as it was indeed the sound of Wendy's voice. "Is that you? Come on in."

Hands trembling, Stan reached for the doorknob and opened the door, poking his head in.

"Actually, it's... me."

Wendy froze. She turned around, locking eyes with Stan, and for a moment, everything was still.

"Stan," she heard herself say, her voice soft and hesitant.

She walked up to him, and he stepped inside and approached her as well. When they reached each other, they both wrapped their arms around one another in a snug embrace. They held each other tightly, as if neither one wanted to let go.

"Hi," Wendy said against his shoulder.

"Hi," Stan replied, and he could feel her smile against him.

They slowly drew back from the hug, wearing similar small grins.

"You look beautiful," Stan said. "But, that's nothing new."

Wendy's smile only widened. "I just... I can't believe you're here."

"Me neither," Stan said as he stared deeply into Wendy's warm, sparkling brown eyes, finding himself breathless. Before he could stop himself, he added, "I really missed you."

"I missed you, too, Stan," Wendy said without any hesitation. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Really?" Stan said, almost too eagerly, but he didn't care as Wendy nodded. With a rush of confidence, he found himself asking, "Are you busy right now?"

"No, why?" Wendy asked.

"Well, I was wondering, would you maybe want to... hang out?" Stan asked. "Maybe go for a walk? Just you and me."

"I'd love that," Wendy said, and the two of them shared another grin. "Just give me ten minutes."

"Sure," Stan said. "I'll wait for you outside."

He departed, shutting the door behind him, and Wendy immediately turned to the vanity mirror, taking in her appearance to see where she could make any quick touch-ups. Perhaps a bit of lipstick. She picked up a gold tube on the vanity, uncapping it and bringing the vivid red lipstick to her lips. She was just about to apply it, when the sound of an unmistakable voice that made her skin crawl unlike anything else spoke:

"And just where do you think you're going, Wendy?"