"My dearest, Wendy,
How I wish you would return to my arms that long for your touch. I am nothing but a broken version of myself without you here with me. In your eyes, I see pages of our story unravel. I once more hope to be your sweetest dream, o lover mine. I shall continue hoping that the sky watches over you in times when I cannot. "
"Cartman!" Kyle screeched, agitated by Cartman's mockery toward his best friend. All three of them were having a completely normal conversation, except for Stan who was scribbling something for the past ten minutes. Apparently, the largest amongst the group had enough of Stan not paying attention to the super important announcement he is conveying about the new epic game being released soon. "Give Stan his notebook back, fatass! And stop being such a huge jerk!"
"Coming to your boyfriend's defense, are we?" Cartman didn't miss how the redhead's face color matched his hair. "And I'm not fat! I'm big-boned."
"He is not my boyfriend! And you are fat, Cartman!" Stan interjected as loudly as Kyle was while shooting death stares at the notebook-stealing culprit. The raven-haired was highly focused that he failed to notice the gleam of hurt that shone in his best friend's eyes. How could have he noticed? When the only thing that resonated within him is embarrassment, shame, and anger. "That letter isn't for you! And if you don't give it back to me right now, you are a dead man! You hear me?!"
"Alright, alright. Jeez! I don't understand why you're getting so worked up! It's just a crappy love note to Wendy for her to take you back anyway." The youngest of the four exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "But between you and me," A sneer was visible on his face. "It will never work." He launched the notebook far into the hallway, settling inside the deadbeat trash can. Pride washed over him for landing the throw. "Awesome!" was the only word he could make out before he was violently tackled to the floor.
His head slams on the concrete tiles. He looked up to see cerulean eyes staring at him with nothing but hatred. Cartman's face took every hit from the darker-haired boy accompanied by a chorus of students cheering in the background. "I am going to break every single bone in your body!" Rage enveloped Stan as he threw punch after punch without ever giving the other boy a chance to even process his last punch, as it was already followed by the next one. "Hey! Hey! That's enough!" Hollered the school's counselor, Mr. Mackey, as he tried to pry the thrashing ravenette from Cartman. "Stop fighting, mkay?!" Stan wouldn't stop hitting Cartman though, and even the latter has started hitting back. "Break it up, mkay?! Mkay!" A blur of red, brown, and blue can be seen with Mr. Mackey in the middle of it helplessly trying to stop the two.
"So?" queried the boy, leaning on the wall with his arms folded. "Two weeks suspension." "Two weeks?! You're joking!" Stan scoffed at his friend's disbelief. "Dude, why would I joke about this?" Kyle rolled his eyes. " I don't know. Maybe you're trying to avoid seeing We-" The tomato-haired boy failed to dodge in time before Stan's fist made contact with his jaw. "-Ow! What the hell was that for?!" "You're an asshole." Stan spat at him before making his way to the exit of the school building. "Dude! Be glad I like you, or else I am really going to pummel you to the ground for that." He exclaimed to the vanishing figure while trying to catch up.
"Why are you following me?" The Tegridy Farm kid agitatedly questioned the boy following him like a second shadow. "Because I am also going home. Duh!" Kyle skipped a few blocks in front of him enthusiastically before turning a full 360 and walking backward, being careful not to trip and fall. "But seriously though. Do you really want to go home now?" The older boy shrugged. "I suppose not." "Okay. Then, let's go to Stark's Pond!" Kyle turned around but not before grabbing his friend's hand.
Stan felt his friend's warm, bony, gloved hand. His friend babbled about the new game coming out soon, trying to catch him up, but Stan was too focused on the spark that brought life to his eyes or the carefree laughter that resonated in the once cold and distant streets to listen about the upcoming fantasy video game. No amount of silly video game fantasy could surpass the magic that was only inches away from him, not even if he, himself, willed it. Ultimately the know-it-all short-tempered Kyle somehow managed to keep him wrapped around his skinny fingers. And his grip has always been so gentle, although it simply refused to let him go. Stan didn't know how to explain this phenomenon, but for some reason, Kyle completed him— as different as they were from one another, they complemented each other somehow, kind of like how puzzle pieces hold onto each other to form a beautiful picture.
After what seemed like seconds, Kyle pointed to the calm and serene boating lake and raced down, dragging his friend along. They both reached the water's edge when Kyle finally dropped his companion's arm before running off. Stan ignored the empty feeling that formed inside him when Kyle let go of his hand while he went to find a clearing nearby to wait for Kyle to return. Stan sat there waiting until he felt a little dizzy and was forced to lie down.
The grass tickled his cheeks as if mocking him for his misery. His girlfriend broke up with him two weeks ago. He got suspended from school for exactly two weeks. He has to break the news to his probably already disappointed parents. And probably worst of all is that he knows he deserves it. Before he could wallow in self-pity, Kyle finally appeared with two ice cream cones in hand.
"I got you chocolate ice cream. My treat, don't worry. I don't want you only digesting alcohol today." He informed while taking a lick at his own cone. Stan shot daggers at him, but he didn't notice. Or maybe he did and he just didn't react to it. "I've actually laid off the alcohol, thank you very much!" With a flick of his badly bleached hair as if to emphasize his statement. "Wendy says it's bad for my liver, and I want to change for her." "Oh, so if I tell you to stop, you ignore me, but if Wendy tells you to stop, you actually do? Wow. Glad to know my place in your life." Kyle dramatically noted while flipping him off.
"I don't know. Wendy's just different, and I want to show her that I can change for her. " Stan stated with conviction, making a vague gesture with his free hand that almost ended up slapping the backside of Kyle's head, which made him chuckle. Stan smiled slightly despite himself because he was sure it wasn't just a coincidence that their faces lit up the moment their eyes met. "You're a dork." "You love me anyway." Stan teasingly proclaimed. Kyle looked him straight in the eyes with an air of confidence surrounding him. "Damn right, I do." This received a flustered reaction from the boy. "I didn't expect you to admit it." The owner of the voice looked away, flustered with a translucent red tint caking his cheeks. "Why? It's the truth, is it not?" Kyle questioned him with a laugh dancing on his lips so effortlessly, but the receiver of the question was far from laughing. His eyes wandered to the messy curls his confidant possesses. He felt appreciative of the conversation they were having that lacked the bitter reality he so desperately wanted to escape, but at the same time, he felt an indescribable feeling gnaw at him.
"Do you think that," The jet-black-haired teen started. "Do you think that it was for the better that Wendy and I broke up?" He licked his lips while trying to form a coherent answer. "To be honest with you, I do think it's for the better." His answer almost made Stan tear up. "Because honestly, your relationship with her was becoming toxic. She wanted communication to connect with you but you were dismissive and unresponsive most of the time. You wanted someone to fix you, she can't do that." If Kyle's earlier statement made him want to tear up, now it made him want to shut the whole world out from the safety of his bedroom.
"Then why do you love me?" Stan's question was blunt and straightforward, but it still confused him. "What?" "If I am so broken to the point that not even Wendy could fix me, why do you love me?" "Stan, I-" "Because if I were you," He let out a dry chuckle. "And all that I am is never enough, I don't think I would've." "You're not broken, Stan." Now it was his turn to be confused. "Huh?" "You can't make Wendy fix something that isn't broken." He remarked. "Then why do you love me?!" The only thing stopping Stan from begging the answer out of the other teen on his knees is him shaking the living soul out of the said teen. "Please just tell me why you love me when even I can't love myself." He demanded as a tear slipped from his eye and straight to the ground, mixing with the melted droplets of the chocolate delicacy he acquired earlier. "Why do you still love me when nobody else seems to do so?!" But all he received is an unsatisfactory answer: "Then I guess it's a good thing that I am neither you nor other people." He had long since let go of the redhead's shoulders to pick up the almost forgotten ice cream he set beside his school bag.
A tingling sensation felt in his hands and stomach made him want to puke whatever was left in his digestive tract. Even though it was snowing, beads of sweat coated his hands as if they were protective films covering his bony fingers blocking off neither rain nor shine. Despite him wearing a jacket, the cold air bit into his skin and bones as if it wanted to rip through and make a hole for the wind to pour through. It made his body shiver, sending vibrations throughout his whole being that caused his muscles to twitch. Yet despite everything, he stood there and watched his friend's hair flowing freely against the wind. He felt guilty. Guilty for making Kyle wait for nothing. Guilty for letting his best friend hope for something more when all he could give him is a companion.
"Kyle I…" Stan wasn't exactly sure how to approach the subject. Honestly, he has never been sure about the redhead now for a long time. "I'm never really going to love you, you know?" His eyes were glued to his melting ice cream. He intently watched every fall, every drop of the disintegrating delight drop to his fingers and onto the floor. The ravenette wonders if him raising his statement would metaphorically be the heat that forces their friendship to take the route his ice cream took. Buried. Lost. Forgotten. And just like what happened to his ice cream, he is the one who brings it to its inevitable demise. And just like his ice cream, he will do nothing but watch it unfold before his very eyes.
"I know." Kyle, who had long finished his cone, gazed at the stillness of the lake. His face is unrecognizable because for the first time in his life; Stan doesn't know what his companion is thinking. He doesn't know what his best friend is feeling. "You know?" He asked, completely befuddled and unsatisfied with the answer. "Then why do you hang out with me like this anyway? Why do you spend so much time with me?"
"Because I love you," Kyle finally tears his eyes away from the body of water to look at his friend. His lips formed his signature smile although Stan couldn't say for sure if the grin plastered on his super best friend's face is genuine. He can't tell anymore. "Isn't that reason enough?"
As Stan watched his best friend's body unmoving on the ground. Velvet streaks seeped from Kyle's arms, meandering aimlessly, leaving a crimson stain as it did so. The stained rusty box cutter and an empty bottle of Prozac sat innocently beside him. His phone screen, albeit cracked, still showed the multiple unseen messages and missed calls from Stan excitedly sharing the news of him getting back together with Wendy.
"Even if I brawled with the heavens above, not even that could ever be enough."