Hi, everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story so far; here is the next chapter. We will have more of Kyle's friends here.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea.

Kyle, the Pageant King.

Chapter 4

To Kyle's surprise, Sheila hadn't made any mention of pageants since he admitted to wanting to carry on, so he had a much appreciated break from practising. It was nice to have his ninth birthday celebrations uninterrupted, as well.

Not for long, however, when Sheila announced a few weeks later that both she and Kyle were going to go to the tailor's that afternoon. She was planning on entering him in a National pageant in September and had already bought the required outfits; now they needed to be altered.

A few hours later, Kyle found himself at the tailor's, wearing a brand new white tuxedo while the tailor measured the suit.

"Just a few inches on the sleeves and legs; they're just a bit too long," the tailor, a middle-aged, balding man, was saying.

Once the little suit had been altered, Kyle had to change into his new Sportswear costume, which consisted of white trousers, a black leather jacket lined with red with Formula One logos dotted on it and a matching cap, along with a black and white chequered flag.

His Runway Model outfit would be a blue plaid, short-sleeved shirt with blue jeans and white trainers, which Kyle would also wear in his upcoming photo shoot.

His Wow Wear outfit consisted of white trousers lined lined with red sequins, a white, long sleeved shirt, a waistcoat decorated with sequins to look like the Stars and Stripes flag, and a blue sparkly tailcoat.

Sheila still had the photographer's card that she had been given, but before she could do anything, she had to hire a pageant coach. She had been asking around during Colorado Grand Royalty and had found Tony Dalton, a pageant coach "with a difference," as his flyer read.

She and Kyle were heading out to Denver, where he lived, for a consultation.

When they arrived, Tony, a young, rather dapper-looking man, greeted them enthusiastically and welcomed them into his lovely home, which was decorated in a rustic style, and photos of the pageant contestants he had coached displayed around the living room.

"Your flyer said that you're a pageant coach with a difference." Sheila produced said flyer after introductions had been given. "What makes you different from other coaches?"

"Well, for starters, I never take on too many clients; that way I can give them the proper attention." Tony smiled down at Kyle, who was wondering what he'd gotten himself into. "I also teach them different routines for their categories – I choreograph them myself – and I give mock interviews with critique, I help to develop stage presence, their personality, their confidence, and I do hair and make up and wardrobe."

Sheila was impressed, to say the least.

"How much do you charge per session?"

"$40 per hour."

Kyle glanced up at his mother, sure that she would refuse, or at least try to barter; it was rather expensive, at least it was to him. He couldn't quite believe it when Sheila pulled the required money out of her purse and suggested they start their first lesson now. "Great!" smiled Tony, standing up and gesturing for Kyle to do the same.

"Go on," Sheila encouraged, when Kyle hesitated, and the boy joined the man in the middle of his living-room.

"Okay, why don't we start with your beauty routine?" he asked and Kyle hesitated, not knowing what to say. Tony seemed to be expecting an answer, so he eventually nodded. "Great. Now," he made his way over to the far side of the living room, "when they call our name and we come out, we've gotta put on our biggest smile and let those judges know that you wanna win – you gotta make them notice you." He looked down at Kyle and at Sheila. "Tough being a pageant boy," he admitted, "it can be a thankless job."

"Well, Kyle will stand out," said Sheila determinedly. "I know he can do it."

Tony grinned again and turned his attention back to Kyle.

"Okay, let's do it; I'm gonna announce you and I want you to come out with the biggest smile you ever had, okay? Right, presenting contestant number one, this is Kyle Broflovski!"

Kyle stepped into the room, a wide grin plastered on his face, and Tony stopped him. "All right, we'll try that again, now remember to give a nice natural smile, okay? We don't want you baring your teeth at the judges." Tony growled, and Kyle grinned in spite of himself. He kind of liked Tony; the man was exuberant, full of energy and always smiling. Kyle felt like he was the kind of person who could never get angry.

So, he tried again, this time smiling more naturally, eliciting grins from both Tony and his mother. "That's it! Much better. That's it, just carry on; we're gonna smooth everything out."

By the end of the lesson, Kyle's routine had improved significantly; his turns were smoother, his smile was more natural, and his poses had gotten more polished. It still wasn't perfect, but there was definite improvement.

"Right, so I'll see you next week?" said Tony as Kyle walked back over to Sheila.

"Oh, definitely," Sheila nodded.

"See you later, Kyle," Tony clapped the boy on the shoulder and Kyle only smiled in reply. "Don't forget to practise every day, okay?" he spoke to both the Broflovskis' and Sheila assured him that they would.

In between seeing Tony once a week, practising his routines every day at home, and weekly one-on-one basketball lessons to help improve his talent routine, as well as keeping on top of his schoolwork, a rather tired Kyle had little time to spend with his friends. The moment he arrived home from school, Sheila had him practise the new routines that Tony was teaching him; Wednesday afternoons he had hour-long private basketball lessons, although Kyle couldn't really complain about that, as he loved the sport and he was learning all sorts of new tricks, the boy also saw Tony for pageant coaching every Saturday, so all in all, he was a busy little boy.

During the week, Sheila told him that he was going to do a photo shoot that Saturday, for his pageant portfolio.

"Is this before or after my lessons?" Kyle asked.

"Before; it'll be easier that way."

Kyle nodded, wondering whether he should ask his mum if he could go and see his friends. Practise for the day was over, so he didn't see why not.

"Hey, Mom? Can I go over to Stan's house, please?" he asked. "I've already practised; I'm done, so can I?"

"I don't know," Sheila hesitated. "Today wasn't your best."

"Please, Ma? I haven't seen my friends for ages!"

"Oh, all right," she relented and Kyle grinned with delight, practically running over to the front door. "Just be home before dinner!" She called after his retreating form.

"I will, Ma!" he called over his shoulder before heading off down the street.

Before he knew it, he was at the Marsh residence, and he knocked on the door, hoping Stan was in. His mother, Sharon, answered the door and smiled down at him.

"Hello, Mrs. Marsh, is Stan in?" Kyle smiled back up at her; he liked her; she was nice.

"Of course; he's upstairs in his room. We haven't seen you for a while," she observed as the boy stepped inside the familiar house.

"Oh, we've been busy," he said casually. "Thanks, Mrs. Marsh," he said, mounting the stairs to his best friend's room.

Knocking on the door, he opened it to find Stan trying to train his dog, Sparky, to play dead; he didn't appear to be succeeding as the dog only tilted his head in confusion. Stan looked up to see who had entered his room and his face split into a huge grin when he saw who it was.

"Kyle!" Stan leapt up from the floor and practically jumped on him. "Haven't seen you for ages! Where you been, dude?"

"Oh, just busy," Kyle hesitated before answering and the two boys made their way over to Stan's bed, making themselves comfortable upon it.

"Tell me about it! I keep trying to call, but your mom always says you're busy, and you go out almost every weekend now. What you been up to?"

"...No, you don't wanna hear it." Kyle found that it was extremely difficult to admit to doing pageants, much more so that he originally thought.

"Sure, I do! How come you keep driving out of South Park?"

Kyle looked at his Super Best Friend.

"You really wanna know?"

"Yeah, dude. You're not moving house, are you?" Stan's eyes widened at the thought. "Is that what you've been doing? Going to look at houses?"

"No." Kyle couldn't help but laugh.

"Then what?"

Kyle sighed.

"All right, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to laugh, okay? Promise you won't laugh."

"Sure, dude," Stan nodded, wondering what the other boy had to tell him.

"My mom's been... putting me into... pageants." Kyle looked down at his lap while he spoke, but a stifled snigger made him look up. "Hey!" he punched Stan in the arm, annoyed, "you promised you wouldn't laugh!"

"S-sorry. I'm sorry." Stan fought to keep a straight face. "So, pageants as in beauty pageants?" he started grinning again, only to stop when Kyle glared at him. "They – uh – they do those for boys?" Stan bit the inside of his cheeks, hard.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Kyle bitterly, looking down at his lap once more.

"Is – is it just like the ones we've seen? Like on TV?" Now that the initial shock had worn off, Stan found that he was full of questions.

"Yes."

"So, so you just gotta stand there and smile?"

Kyle finally looked up.

"No," he began. "I have to model on a runway, I have to strike poses, smile and make eye contact at the judges; I have to do different routines for the different categories; I have to do several costume changes; I have to stand and walk and turn just right or else I'll lose points and then I won't win and then my mom's be upset; I have to answer in depth interview questions; I have to work with a coach who teaches me how to walk and stand and smile and I have to have private basketball lessons to make my talent routine interesting and I have to pose for endless photos!" Kyle's eyes were blazing; it was obvious he had been keeping everything in for a while. Kyle often vented at Stan, but the latter didn't mind; if he lived with Kyle's strict mother, he'd need to vent as well.

"Dude..." was all he found he could say.

"But I don't wanna do it," Kyle admitted. "My mom wants me to; it's all her idea."

"So, tell her you wanna stop."

Kyle stared at him.

"It's not that simple."

"What do you mean? All you gotta do is walk up to her and say, 'Mom, I don't wanna do this any more'."

"I've done that, but she doesn't listen."

"Well, make her listen."

"I don't know how, though. You know what my mom's like; once she gets something in her head, she can't be talked out of it."

"Yeah," Stan nodded in agreement. "So, uh, have you got any more.. pageants coming up?"

"Yeah." Kyle pulled another face. "In September, so I have to practise a lot."

"Why? It's only the beginning of June!"

"She wants me to win a National."

"A what?" Stan looked confused and Kyle cringed inwardly at himself knowing the pageant lingo.

"A national pageant is a big one with lots of contestants; she wants me to win something, so that's why I have to practise every day."

All too soon, Kyle had to leave, and said that he would try to spend time with Stan as often as he could, which was difficult as the boy was kept busy with practise.

Before he left Stan's room, he turned back to face his friend. "Listen, do me a favour, and don't tell anyone. Especially Cartman," he said, and Stan looked at him in surprise.

"Dude, would I?" he asked, and Kyle immediately felt guilty. He knew Stan wouldn't do that.

It was Saturday morning, and Sheila and Kyle were off to the photographer for Kyle's photo shoot. Once again, Gerald was displeased at his wife and son's new activity, but as Kyle had asked to continue with pageants, he felt he had no say in the matter.

The Broflovskis' arrived in good time at the studio, and made their way inside. After introducing themselves to the photographer, a woman in her late twenties by name of Laura, Kyle changed into his white tux for the formal photographs.

As he sat in the chair, waiting for Laura to finish setting up, Sheila approached him, pulling something out of her bag.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Don't worry; it's just a bit of makeup."

Kyle's jaw dropped.

"I don't want to wear makeup!" he said.

"Kyle, these lights are going to wash you out; you need some. Just some powder so you don't end up looking shiny, and a bit of eye liner to make your eyes pop."

"Can't they edit that in afterwards?" Kyle was getting desperate. "I don't want to wear makeup."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to," was Sheila's answer. "It'll do you good to get used to wearing it; you're going to need it in the Nationals." Sheila was unscrewing the lid of what looked like a pen.

"What's that?" Kyle asked, staring at it.

"Liquid eyeliner. I got brown because it looks more natural; now keep still," she moved up to Kyle's eye, but he ducked away out of instinct. "Don't move! If this gets in your eye, it's gonna hurt, okay?" Sheila brought the pen back up to his eye and Kyle naturally cringed away again. Growling frustratedly, Sheila grabbed his chin sharply, and held him still while she applied the eyeliner across his upper lash line. "Don't look up until it dries, or it'll smudge," Sheila warned, taking a compact and a brush out of her bag.

She began to powder Kyle's face, the boy firmly keeping his eyes on the ground, and by the time she was done, Tony had arrived to help out with the arduous task of taming Kyle's hair.

Kyle didn't dare look in the mirror as he made his way over to the chair that was placed in front of a neutral cream background in the centre of the room.

Kyle sat in the chair, large mirrors placed either side of and beneath him, bright lights shining down upon him, as his mother chatted with the photographer.

"I really want the head shots to show his facial beauty, really bring it out," she was saying. "But I also want them to show his personality, show a bit of his playful side."

"All right; we'll start with the more formal looking ones first, to get them out of the way, and then we'll move on from there." Laura stepped behind her camera and the photo shoot began.

First, she shot close-ups of Kyle; of him looking straight at the camera, slightly to the right, then to the left, in a very serious manner. "Okay, Kyle, I want you to look to your right just a little bit, and then look up."

Kyle did so and she snapped the picture. "Great! Now let's have some smiling ones."

So Kyle did what he was told to do; he smiled demurely, he smiled charmingly, he grinned, all the while posing his head the way he was told to.

Then Sheila produced one of his crowns and he was photographed wearing that.

Tony and Sheila were stood behind Laura, and whenever they felt that Kyle was growing bored or tired they would mug for him to try and make him laugh, which eventually started to work; Laura managed to capture a wonderful shot of Kyle laughing, his smile was wide, his eyes were closed and his head was slightly tilted.

After an hour in the studio, the four packed up and went on location. Kyle had changed into his blue plaid shirt and his blue jeans, his hair had been brushed back out into his natural curls, and they were ready to go.

They arrived at a remote, peaceful wooded area and Kyle was instantly put into action, being sat at the base a tree.

"Put one knee up, the one closest to me" instructed Laura, "rest your elbow on it, and tilt your head, tilt it facing away from me. That's it."

A large pile of leaves were gathered and Kyle sat in the centre for a few poses, while Sheila and Tony stood above him out of sight, scattering leaves around him, before lying down on his stomach and resting his chin in his hands.

The rest of the hour was spent with Kyle posing all around the little wooded area; in the grass, standing next to the trees and even a few shots of him sitting in the branches.

In the car on the way to Tony's, Sheila handed Kyle her makeup wipes and the boy vigorously scrubbed his face clean.

"You did good today, bubbe," Sheila praised from the front seat. "These photos are going to look amazing."

After his lesson with Tony, Kyle felt exhausted and resisted the urge to sleep in the car as they drove back home. They had been working on holding his smile without it looking fake, making eye contact, as well as standing correctly; back straight, shoulders back and head up, one foot placed slightly in front of the other, and Kyle had found it rather hard.

When they arrived home, Kyle sat at the top of the stairs once again, listening to them talk.

"Gerald, you must come to the pageant in September," Sheila was saying, "Kyle's worked so hard."

"Absolutely not," insisted his father. "If you and Kyle want to do this, that's fine, but I refuse to take part in something like that!"

"But, Gerald, this will be Kyle's first National pageant. You have to come and watch him."

"No, Sheila!"

"I can't believe you're not going to support your child!"

"I can't believe what you're doing to our child!" Gerald snapped back at his wife. "These types of contests are disgusting and wrong!"

"There is nothing wrong with these contests; they're giving Kyle what he needs most; self-esteem and confidence! You've seen him, Gerald; he won't even look up when a stranger talks to him; he can't take compliments -"

"There are other ways to develop his self esteem. Like those basketball lessons. He enjoys those."

"We are continuing with the pageants, Gerald," said Sheila firmly. "Come and cheer him on."

"... Fine. Just this once, and that's it!" said Gerald just as firmly.

A few weeks later, the Broflovski family, along with Tony, were boarding a plane, headed for New York where the pageant was being held. Kyle was actually looking forward to seeing New York and he hoped he would be able to do some sightseeing while he was there. Tony was going along, not only to help Kyle, but also because he had another client, a three-year-old boy, who was also competing.

As Kyle had a window seat, he was able to see the Statue of Liberty as they touched down in New York City, and he caught another glimpse of the famed statue when they left the airport, but they headed straight to the hotel where "The Beauty From Within" national pageant was being held.

"Ma, can we go sightseeing?" Kyle asked as they entered the large hotel foyer.

"Maybe later, if we have time," Sheila walked up to the front desk to sign them in. Gerald was lagging behind, carrying Ike but refusing to carry any of the luggage, and Tony was standing with Sheila

After they had unpacked in their rooms, Tony (who had his own room), Sheila and Kyle went down to the ballroom where the pageant was being held; Gerald was staying in the hotel room. It was the biggest hotel room Kyle had ever seen, as well as the biggest stage, with a black sparkly background and a bulb-lined, "T-shaped" catwalk. "Right, Kyle, you better get up there and run through your beauty walk. You'll need to get used to the bigger stage."

The ballroom was filled with other children waiting their chance to rehearse; Kyle did his routine as soon as he could get on the stage, so that he could get it over with. He had to do it twice, as Sheila wasn't happy with his first attempt.

"Remember to keep the chin up and the shoulders back," she instructed, standing in front of the stage as Kyle walked down it. He was actually trying to put effort into his routines, as he knew that his mother would not stop until he won the Ultimate Grand Supreme, and Kyle realised that as soon as he won that prize, the sooner he could quit. But he also knew that as soon as he quit, his mother would stop spending time with him, which he didn't want. He didn't know what to do.

When Sheila was satisfied, they returned to their room, where Sheila began preparing for the following day, hanging Kyle's clothes up and arranging the registration forms and the photographs.

It was already evening, so the four of them headed to bed to get a good night's rest.

~ X ~

There, it's done. The next chapter will see Kyle competing in his first National Pageant.