Chapter 15:

A/N: Sorry for the sudden lack in updates, very busy at the moment but thank you for some of the lovely reviews you have all given me, it's what inspires me to keep writing! As you can tell from this chapter I am a song writer... But hopefully my lyrics are not as bad as these!

Wendy PoV

I was apprehensive about this music project; Craig Tucker was one of those guys you could never read easily. He could either be funny and kind, or in a really shitty mood where he is constantly flipping you off. No one really understood him, I suppose that is why we were all so surprised when he came out as bisexual; Tweek was a more obvious homosexual but Craig was always rather mysterious.

Either way, I had agreed to work on this composition with him now, so I couldn't back out. Plus, it gave me chance to hang around with people who weren't jumping down my throat all of the time, mainly consisting of Stan and Bebe. Cancer was also a very important topic to me; my mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer when she was younger and my grandma had died from it. Therefore, I was hoping I would be able to give something to the project, as well as my voice.

"Hi Craig." I greet as I enter the music room, he was sat playing some complicated melody on the piano. That was another thing; you would never expect him to be a grade 7 in piano. Mind you, the only other person in the year who could play it was Cartman, but that was just because he picked it up when creating a Christian Rock Band in fourth grade. Craig finishes his piece and then waves to me. I was desperately hoping this wasn't going to be awkward, I was the worst person at trying to make conversation when the other person was not.

"You actually came?" He beams, sounding surprised. Was I that unreliable?

"Uh, yeah." I shrug. "Course I did, why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's kind of lame." He gives a slight laugh and I look around the classroom. I hadn't been in here since sophomore year but it was pretty awesome; old records were decorating the walls, alongside guitars which were hung up and several exotic looking instruments lined the edge of the carpet.

"No it's not, it's awesome." I exclaim. "Besides, you asked me to help you out, I'm looking forward to it."

"Yeah right." He raises his eyebrows. "I wouldn't go that far." I am about to respond before he starts collecting up pieces of music and dumping them on another table. He sits down again at the piano and pulls a chair up for me. "So, I've got a basic melody at the moment, which I will add depth to when we have got more of an idea for the lyrics."

"Wow, you've been busy." I sit down next to him so that our shoulders are almost touching. I felt slightly uncomfortable being this close to him but I wasn't about to complain.

"Yeah so I thought maybe today we could mind map some ideas for lyrics?" He suggests and then turns to study me carefully. "I know that it is a really sensitive topic for you, so don't feel... pressured into anything."

"Don't worry." I smile at him. "Any way to raise awareness and I'm in."

"Let's just hope Cartman, doesn't fuck this up too." He rolls his eyes and the memories come flooding back; how Cartman joked about the disease for days and then ate his own underwear so that I wouldn't fight him. The thought of it now almost makes me laugh, but it is drowned out by the deep anger.

"I'll just beat him up again." I joke and then watch as Craig draws a bubble in the middle of the paper and sketches some arrows coming out of it. "Right so, emotions?"

"Fear?" I question and he writes it down immediately. I search my brain for thoughts my mother had told me. "Panic, anger, frustration. Sorrow, confusion, unknowing... Emptiness." I realise I have blurted everything out and he is scribbling fast to catch up. "Sorry, I can babble on."

"No it's good." He nods. "Emptiness?"

"Well, sometimes you can feel all those emotions, but you can still feel nothing at all." I explain. "Like it has taken everything from you, or overloaded you with so much fear and anger and sorrow that everything just dissolves into nothing."

He stares at me again for a few seconds and then starts playing a sad tune on the piano, it is beautiful though, very very beautiful. "It takes a thousand messages to make you feel nothing. But when you feel this broken how can cancer keep on crushing?" He starts to sing. He could sing? His voice was clear and acoustic, with a natural vibrato. I was amazed. "So when it knocks you down and you can't carry on. Remember that inside you, there's a part of you that's strong."

He stops abruptly, which is annoying as it doesn't give me chance to collect myself before he turns his head to look at me again. My mouth was hanging open in awe, which makes me look both shocked and pathetic. "Tell me something." I cough after a short pause. "Why did you ask me to come here if you have an amazing voice yourself?"

"It's not amazing." I blushes slightly. "But, because I think... Your voice is beautiful and you are kind of an... inspiration to me, where the song is concerned. I mean, you work so hard to raise awareness for the disease and don't let anyone push you around."

Suddenly I feel so much more at home sitting next to him. I watch his eyes as they glide back to the piano and start moving gracefully over the keys again. "So when did we start turning the blind eye? To the angels who are waving goodbye?" He pauses and makes a note on the paper in front of him.

"I think you should sing too in this." I tell him. "We can do a duet, everyone needs to know about your voice."

"God no." He looks up, alarmed. "No one can know. If people know that I sing, I'll be ripped on until graduation day. Can you imagine if Clyde knew? Kyle and his cousin would be distant history."

"What so... You're scared?" I frown, confused at why he cared so much.

"No." He shakes his head. "I'm not scared, I'm weak. I'm weak because I don't have the courage to stand up for myself. Hell, it took Tweek and I a year to finally reveal we were together. I hate people knowing who I really am."

Suddenly everything was clear. "Clyde's an idiot." Is all I come out with. "I think you're strong... And don't let anyone tell you any different."

Kenny PoV

"Right. I have to go out." I announce. Karen was doing her homework at the table and I don't think mom had moved from the couch in two days.

"You don't start work until six." Kevin points out as he enters the room, his hair greasy and teeth rotting. He was the spitting image of my dad, I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be exactly the same. I looked nothing like either of my parents, I was hoping maybe I was adopted but I knew that was impossible. Besides, who would let my parents adopt?

"I know, I've got to go somewhere beforehand." I say, stashing a bunch of notes in my pocket. I had to keep my money locked up in a box so that mom didn't steal any of it. "Talking of which, when are you going back to work mom?"

She is staring blankly at the television. There is some programme about doing house decorating on there. I doubt she is watching it, probably just daydreaming about how we would decorate a house if we actually earned an income.

"Mom?" Kevin chips in and she looks up angrily. Oh yeah so she responds to the drug dealer.

"Soon." She shrugs. I grab the remote from the edge of the couch and click the screen off.

"Right, get up." I order. "Go and have a shower then get down here and make Karen dinner."

"You can't tell me what to do." She yells.

"Why can't I come with you Kenny?" Karen asks, looking up after mom's sudden uproar. I knew why she couldn't come with me; because I was going to track down dad and whatever happened, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Because this is important." I speak to her softly. "But I will be back soon, promise." I walk over to mom and whisper in her ear so Karen can't hear me. "I swear to God, if you don't do something about yourself soon, I'll be phoning the police." I spit, grabbing the neck of her T-shirt. "You have one more chance."

I let her go and she makes a run for the stairs.

"What did you say to her?" Kevin questions, astonished.

"Nothing." I reply, bluntly and then turn to him. "You keep those drugs away from her though. Ok?"

"Last time was an accident." He defends himself.

"It's always an accident." I hiss. "You keep those things lying around and she's gonna take them. Be careful, else you'll be banged up and all."

I disappear out of the door, leaving behind Kevin's threats of beating me up. I head for Skeeter's bar, eyes focused on the grotty red and white sign that no longer lit up anymore. I push the door open and the old bell clinks with fatigue.

"Skeeter, where's dad?" I ask, walking over to the bar. Bits of white were beginning to show in his red hair. He was sat the at the end of the bar, glass in his hand. There were a couple of old folk sat around at tables on their own and two drunk rednecks at the other end of the room, slowly guzzling rum and keeping their eyes on the television screen. It was broadcasting some horse race or something completely uninteresting.

"Barred." The bartender replies, considering Skeeter looked too wasted to to talk. "He didn't take it lightly either. Had to get Skeeter to drag him out."

"So where is he now?" I question, sitting down on the bar stool. Skeeter clicks his fingers and the bartender pulls out a bottle of beer from the fridge, sliding it over to me. I wasn't of the legal age to drink yet, but considering all the money my father had handed him over in the last few years, they didn't really seem to mind. I take a few gulps of the cool liquid, feeling refreshed as it slides down my throat.

"In a gutter?" Skeeter slurs, coming over to join me. "Maybe robbing a house for money to spend in the next bar along."

"Yeah well, he can be dead for all I care." I drone but pull out my phone to call him all the same. It goes to voicemail instantly this time and I slide it back into my pocket without leaving a message. "No reply, phone's dead."

"When did he last come home son?" The bartender inquires and I down the rest of the bottle.

"You're joking right?" I give a slight laugh. "I think this is more his home than anywhere... You got anything stronger?"

I watch him and Skeeter exchange a look before he pulls out a bottle of vodka, pouring me a double in a glass. I take it off him and wince as it burns my throat. In a way, it was a good feeling; it made me feel alive. This was the most sympathy I had ever felt for dad, I could at least now understand why he spent his life drinking, not that I was condemning it of course.

"You want anymore and you're paying." He warns. "I give enough freebies to your family."

I pull out a couple of dollars and slam them down on the counter. I would have one more and then leave. I felt pretty sober anyway, although that was probably because it hasn't kicked yet. Either way, I needed courage to face my dad.

Bebe PoV

I had skipped school again today, but this time it had been for a valid reason. I felt fine now and was up and dressed, but I had felt extremely nauseous this morning when I woke up. On the positive side though, I had missed all the shitty lessons I would have had today. Every cloud I suppose...

"Bebe!" Mom trilled up the stairs. "Red is here to see you."

Oh great, another person who was going to bang on about my poor attendance. Mind you, Red was nowhere near as annoying as Wendy. All the same, I throw a couple of tissues down on the bed and get under the covers.

"Hi Bey." Red waves as she enters the room, cautiously. "Just came to check you were ok."

"Uh, yeah I'm fine." I tell her. "Just feeling a bit sick that's all."

"Right..." She looks unconvinced, it wasn't surprising; I was a shit actress. "Miss Ashton called an emergency cheer practice today."

"What?" I sit bolt upright and she giggles, seeing me fully clothed. "Why?"

"She didn't really." She laughs. "I just knew that would make you cut it out."

"Red, I really hate you sometimes." I mutter before my phone starts to ring. I check it, seeing an unknown number flash up on the screen.

"Who is it?" Red asks and I just shrug.

"Probably some guy I have given my number to." I flick my hair and answer the call, sweetly. "Hello?"

"Bebe Stevens?" A male voice speaks, but he sounded a lot older than me. Weird, I couldn't remember giving anyone over thirty my cell number. "This is Harrison's Hardware's calling."

"It's where Kenny works." I mutter to Red, what did they want? "Yeah?"

"You are listed as Kenny McCormick's emergency contact." He informs me.

"What?" I frown. "Is he ok?"

"He's drunk." He replies, bluntly and my eyes widen. "He's turned up to work completely wasted. You're going to need to come and collect him now."

"Um... Ok, I'll be right over." I tell him, jumping out of bed and gathering my things. Drunk? Kenny? This didn't make sense.

"Oh and just so you know." He continues. "He has been informed that he is fired, but he probably won't remember that in the morning so you should let him know." He hangs up before I can answer.

"Kenny turned up to work drunk." I say to Red and she looks just as confused as me. "I have to get over there now, sorry about this."

"No it's fine, honestly." She smiles, walking down the stairs with me.

"Mom, I've got to go out." I call and slam the front door before she can respond. "I'll see you later Red." I climb into the car as she kisses me on the cheek and then continues on down the road. It wasn't a long drive to the hardware store, but surely Kenny must have been walking today, unless he wanted to get charged for drunk driving. But I suppose he wasn't in the right frame of mind. I pull into a parking space and clatter into the store in my heels. It only takes me a second to spot him, as he is yelling at some old woman in aisle twelve.

"Bebe Stevens?" I hear the voice from the phone and spin around to meet eyes with a middle aged man.

"Yes." I reply, slightly embarrassed. I was going to kill Kenny when he was sobered up.

"Right this way." He leads me towards where Kenny is waving a hammer around. A member of staff runs up to him and confiscates it immediately.

"Hey!" He yells, pointing his finger in the wrong direction. "That was my lightsaber!"

"Kenny, what the fuck?" I scream at him, slapping him hard round the face.

"I suggest you take him home and do your domestics there." The man pats me on the shoulder rudely. "Don't you dare ever come back young man."

"You're an old man!" He slurs which angers him even more. I virtually drag Kenny out of the store until we are in the parking lot. He clings onto a shopping cart with his free hand and the chain attaching it to the one in front snaps, causing it to roll off and taking him down with it.

"Kenny, cut it out." I snap as he lies on the floor laughing. His hand is badly cut for some reason and he also has a black eye. "Get up now."

"Can't." He pants, scrabbling around on the floor.

I notice that a pair of women are staring at me, shaking their heads in disgust. I whip out my cell and find Stan on speed dial. I couldn't deal with this by myself.