It started with a warm, sticky summer evening and a sunset.

The power in the McCormick house had been turned off for what felt like the dozenth time in Kenny's life, resulting in a screaming match between his mom, dad, and Kevin, each blaming the others for their shitty circumstances and even shittier house. As soon as the power cut, Karen had packed up an overnight bag and escaped to the Tucker house to sleepover with Tricia. Kenny didn't blame her—her decision to retreat was smart, actually; she was better than the life their parents had created for them, and she didn't need to stick around and endure it.

Kenny wasn't in the mood to argue tonight. It was too hot and uncomfortable to get physical with his dad and brother, and he didn't want to watch his mom cry again. He had no qualms with arguing when he felt strongly enough, but tonight, he was just too tired and wanted to sit in the quiet and think. So, he made his own decisive retreat. He bit the corner of a snack-sized bag of Doritos that he'd stolen from Cartman's pantry earlier that day and slipped out from his bedroom window, he then climbed up the piles of junk and trash that formed a small mountain behind their house, having done this enough times to know exactly where to place every careful step to assure that the mountain wouldn't crumble and bury him in the debris. On top of the roof, he tiptoed and danced around every hole and broken shingle before making it over to his usual hangout spot just above their front door, where he sat and sighed, letting his legs dangle freely over the edge.

It wasn't a secret to anyone in South Park that his house was built on the shittiest bit of land in the entire town—hell, it sometimes felt like it was the shittiest plot of land in the whole country—but on evenings like this, when Kenny was on his barely-held-together roof with a stolen snack and a beautiful sunset in front of him, it didn't feel so bad.

He took the chip bag from between his front teeth and tore it open, popping one of the cheesy triangles in his mouth as he stared at the horizon before him. It was gorgeous, really. Probably one of the prettiest sunsets he'd seen. The sun was still mostly in the sky, its light barely breaking over the roof of the church across town, but would disappear soon, making room for the moon that was starting to show overhead. The sky before him was a gradient, starting with a muted blue that he knew would soon become a bright magenta, a warm yellow that reminded him of sunflowers, then into an orange as vivid as a blaze. Kenny stared, transfixed, at the scene before him, wishing the camera on his phone wasn't shattered so he could capture it. Though, part of him considered that taking a picture of it might make it less beautiful, as if his camera had the power to steal something so magnificent from the sky.

"What're you doing?"

Kenny jumped slightly at the unexpected voice and looked toward the source. To his left, Craig Tucker was standing on one of the dirt paths that came from the woods and merged into the dirt of his front yard. He was looking at Kenny with his usual deadpan expression, showing no particular interest or judgement on his face.

"Watching the sunset," Kenny replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What were you doing in the woods?"

"Walking," Craig said, sounding as if his activity was even more obvious.

"It's too hot to walk. It feels like it's a hundred-fuckin'-degrees." Kenny didn't know why he bothered to continue the conversation. Craig wasn't known to be a good conversationalist (or even a good soundboard).

"It's too hot to sit in the sun," he rebutted.

Kenny chuckled at the simplicity of Craig's argument and his complete lack of expression. "I guess, yeah," he said with a half-shrug, "but the picture sure is nice."

Craig was quiet after that and Kenny went back to enjoying the sunset, figuring Craig would carry on his way to wherever he was going and they'd go back to ignoring each other like usual.

Truly, childhood rivalries had never fully gone away. Although Kenny in particular never really had an issue with Craig and his friends, his loyalty was with Stan, Kyle, and, unfortunately, Cartman. To befriend the others beyond surface-level niceties would betray his friends—well, it'd betray Stan, really. As far as he knew, Stan was the only one with genuine disdain towards Craig's group (and even then, his contempt was mainly for Craig alone). Kyle disliked them because Stan did, and Cartman generally disliked everyone and thrived on the animosity between them. Kenny was, and had always been, pretty neutral on Craig's crew.

Instead, a cacophony of noise sounded behind him, and before Kenny could get up to see what happened at the rear of the house, Craig hoisted himself up onto the roof. "What the fuck?" Kenny murmured to himself as the other boy made his way over, putting an extra hole or two in the roof from his less-than-graceful footsteps. Kenny adjusted himself and made room for Craig when he plopped down next to him like it was nothing. Like they were friends who hung out on his roof regularly and not classmates who, despite having known each other for the better part of eighteen whole years, barely spoke a word to each other since they were ten.

"I think your parents are fighting," Craig said simply, looking out at the view before them. "You can hear the yelling from back there."

"You put holes in my roof," Kenny stated, bewildered.

"Will they fight over the holes?"

"No…they won't notice," he said slowly, giving the taller boy a suspicious look before turning his attention back to the sunset. "Why're you on my roof?"

"Because you said the view was nice. It is. I haven't noticed this side of the sky that much," Craig shrugged.

Kenny huffed out a small laugh, picking up the bag of Doritos again to offer Craig one. When he took one, he took his own and crunched on it thoughtfully. The muted blue in the sky had melted away within the last few minutes and had been replaced with the vibrant magenta he predicted. He loved that fiery pink.

"What side of the sky do you normally notice?"

Craig craned his head back, looking directly up into the sky. "That one."

Kenny mimicked the movement, tilting his head back so far that he could see the darkening sky above them, where the moon and stars resided and were becoming more visible the more the sun disappeared in front of them. Ah, he thought. Spaceman Craig.

God, he hadn't thought about that in a long time—in eight years, at least—but it all came rushing back to him at once. Even as a kid, Craig was infatuated with the night sky. He wanted to be a spaceman.

"Oh, yeah," Kenny hummed, looking back at his preferred version of the sky. "You still wanna be a spaceman?"

Craig nodded in response, still and silent as he watched the darkening sky before them. Kenny was quiet too, enjoying his view in the company of a boy with such a soft presence that the blond almost felt alone. It was relaxing, the screaming below them melting away into something he could ignore and pretend wasn't there at all.

It was only when the magenta and yellow disappeared and the inky indigo of the night sky threatened to take over that Craig spoke again, but Kenny didn't hear him, all his attention focused on how the indigo was chasing away the last remnants of orange in the sky, taking it over and replacing its warmth with something colder and more mysterious.

"McCormick?"

"Hm?" Kenny was snapped from his thoughts when Craig said his name a little louder, his tone firm. "Sorry, went somewhere else there."

"I asked if you still wanted to be a princess," Craig repeated, his face still void of any sort of expression despite the ridiculousness of his question.

Kenny took a few moments to absorb the question before letting out a soft "what?" and broke out into a fit of laughter. Only then, did Craig also let his face crack a smile as he laughed along.

"No, I don't want to be a princess anymore," Kenny said as his laughter died down. "I have bigger goals these days. I'm more interested in being a queen or empress."

"Oh, my bad," Craig replied sarcastically. There was another pause before he continued, "Are you going to start school in the fall?"

Kenny pressed his lips together into a line and shook his head. No, he wouldn't be going to college in the fall. He probably wouldn't attend another day of school in his life, whether he wanted to or not. His family was too fucking poor, and he wasn't smart enough to get a scholarship or grant or whatever else he'd need to pay the fees…he couldn't even take out a loan because his parents, unbeknownst to him until recently, had taken out multiple credit cards in his name and racked up a bunch of debt. He was royally screwed and was basically doomed to rot away exactly where he was for the rest of his life.

"Can't afford it. Besides, I don't even know what I'd want to study anyway."

"I'm not going either," Craig admitted. Kenny couldn't help but pick up a hint of something sad hidden in his normally even tone.

"Why?" He asked before he could think of something else to say.

"Same as you, my family can't afford it."

"Oh," Kenny said softly, almost feeling bad for him. "That sucks, dude. What program would you be doing if you could?"

"I got accepted into the physics program at M.I.T. …I just didn't get the full ride I was hoping for."

Now he actually did feel bad for Craig. At least he'd known he didn't have a chance at going to school, so he didn't even bother looking or applying, but damn, he'd been accepted. That must have been a gut punch.

A familiar sinking, empty feeling was beginning to grow in the core of Kenny's chest, and he took a deep breath that he hoped Craig wouldn't notice, inwardly begging for it to go away.

"I'm scared to ask, but how much was it?" he asked, trying to sound like he was teasing to lighten the mood a bit, but it didn't seem to work for either of them. It was dark now, the sun fully disappearing beyond the mountains of the town he'd never escape. He shuddered at the cold that had settled in, almost missing the suffocating heat from earlier.

"It'd be $86,000 per year." Craig's voice was flat, but dejection could be easily detected, maybe a touch of anger, too. "$344,000 for all four fucking years. Plus, whatever the tuition would be for my masters, then a PhD. I'd be screwed for life if I took out a loan, so it's a scholarship or nothing."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Kenny exclaimed. "What the fuck are you even wanting to do? Goddamn, dude."

"Uh, I wanna be an astronomer?" He responded, giving Kenny an 'are you serious?' look. "It's all I've been interested in since, like, middle school?"

"Sorry, dude, I haven't been keeping tabs on your hopes and dreams," Kenny said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Especially since I was under the impression that we hated each other until, like, now? And isn't that different from a spaceman or whatever anyways?"

"I don't hate you, dude," Craig said. Something about the way he said it—the touch of softness in his voice—made Kenny's chest ache with something he didn't quite know the name of. "And yeah, it's different. Being an astronaut is my dream, but being an astronomer is—was—more realistic."

"Oh…I always thought you hated me. Us. Me and my friends."

Craig swatted at a mosquito that was attempting to make a meal out of his arm and shrugged, "Okay, yeah, I might've hated you assholes when we were kids, but I haven't cared one way or the other about you guys in years. Except fatass, he's a fucking dick."

"Fair. No one really likes him, but we have to stick with him because he's our friend."

"Says who?"

"Chef," Kenny hummed. "He said Cartman's our friend whether we like him or not, and I guess we kinda just stuck with him long enough to get over how much we hate him, if that makes sense."

"It doesn't."

"That's fine, I guess it doesn't have to."

"Marsh is the one keeping up the rivalry from when we were kids or whatever, just so you know," Craig said as he took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of his shorts, then put one between his lips and lit it with an inhale. He held the smoke for a few seconds, then blew out, "I don't even remember what the fuck we were fighting about."

"Yeah, I had a feeling," Kenny said, watching the dark haired boy longingly. Stan had quit smoking a few months ago, so Kenny couldn't bum them off him anymore, and the times where he and Kevin could pool their spare change together to afford a pack were few and far between these days. The cravings hadn't bothered him in a while because he had other shit to focus on, but having it right in front of him—practically teasing him—was too much, and the itch for it came back in an overwhelming wave. "Hey, uh, can I bum one off you, dude? Please? I'll literally never ask you for one ever again."

Craig narrowed his eyes at the blond and Kenny momentarily feared that he'd overstepped, daring to ask something of someone he wasn't friends with and with no trade offered. It embarrassed him, asking for handouts like this. But this was an itch that he couldn't scratch on his own and it wouldn't go away for some time. After an agonizingly long few seconds, Craig removed the cigarette from between his lips and offered it, to which Kenny took it gratefully and inhaled before the other could change his mind.

"We can share this one, I'm not giving it to you," he clarified.

"Sure, thanks," Kenny said as he handed it back, instant relief passing through him (was it due to the cigarette itself or was it a mere placebo effect? Who was he to say?). "Who buys them for you?"

"My dad."

"Your dad buys you cigarettes?" Kenny was surprised at that. Sure, his parents wouldn't mind picking up a pack of smokes for him because they'd get to steal some off him, but it never occurred to him that normal, non-addict parents would be up for that. He could only imagine Sheila Broflovski's reaction if Kyle dared to ask that of her.

"Yeah," he said, not bothering to elaborate. Kenny didn't ask further details, but he was silently jealous.

The boys passed the cigarette between them in silence, just staring out at the town as gradually, more and more lights in windows turned off and a calming silence fell over the landscape. By this time, most people were finished dinner and cleanup and were retiring to their rooms to wind down however they liked. He wondered if it was like that in the Tucker household, too.

"My sister is staying at your place tonight," Kenny said to the open air. It had gotten cool since the sun went down and goosebumps had raised on his skin. He hoped Karen was warm.

Craig made a sound somewhere between a hum and a grunt in acknowledgement and crushed the remainder of the nearly finished cigarette on the heel of his sneakers before speaking, "Yeah, she comes over semi-often. My parents like her. She's nice and stuff, offers to help clean up after dinner and all that."

"Do they ever feel like she's leeching off them?" Kenny asked carefully. He was somewhat scared of the answer, honestly. He knew they could be burdensome, constantly asking for help from people who they didn't belong to and had no obligation to them. Sometimes, the guilt and insecurity kept him up at night and made him so sick with himself that he would vow to never ask for another handout again, but time and time again, he'd give into temptation (or desperation) and go begging once more. Secretly, he hated that about himself. His weakness. His inability to take care of his sister or even himself. He wondered if the entire town hated the greedy McCormick children.

"Dude, of course not," Craig said without even taking a moment to think about it. For the first time since the dark haired boy emerged from the woods, he was fully expressive. His brows drew together and he scrunched up his face ever so slightly, looking as though he couldn't comprehend the question. "They like her a lot and always tell her she can come over whenever she wants. They like having her around."

"Ah, that's good. Tell them 'thank you' for me, I appreciate what they do for her," Kenny said cooly, trying to play off his own insecurity by downing the last of the chips in the small bag and shoving the plastic in the ripped pocket of his threadbare jeans.

Craig was quiet again, and despite not looking at him, Kenny could tell he was looking him over. Evaluating him. He could feel every time Craig's dark eyes stopped on an area where his clothes were loose in places meant to be fitted and his bones were too exposed for comfort. His bony wrists and thin arms uncovered thanks to the heat from earlier and his knobby knees on display from the slits and holes in his jeans. He didn't look good, he knew that. He was "cocaine thin" without the hard drugs or addiction. He didn't want eyes on him anymore.

"Uh—"

"You know…they wouldn't mind if you came over sometimes too," Craig said suddenly, interrupting the nothing-sentence Kenny was about to begin to change the topic. "My mom always cooks a ton more than we can eat on our own, and she has this thing where she likes to, I don't know, feed the neighbourhood kids? It's weird, like she mothers everyone. She's always asking us to bring our friends around and stuff."

"Why're you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" Kenny asked, his voice more abrasive than he intended. He was beginning to sweat despite being somewhat cold in his tattered jeans and thin, hand-me-down Limp Bizkit t-shirt that he'd gotten from Kevin when he'd grown out of it. The tips of his fingers were numb now, though not from the cold. He didn't want to be here anymore—not in front of Craig, not on the roof, not even in town. He needed out. Out. Out. "It's not like we're fucking friends or anything."

Instead of reacting, Craig did what he did best and let any and all emotion fall from his face, settling back into his standard deadpan look. "Fine, don't call us friends if you don't want to. I don't care. But don't let Marsh dictate who you get to be friends with," he said, cool and even like he usually was. Whatever version of him Kenny had gotten to see tonight was gone. He paused, seemingly thinking for a moment longer before continuing, "The offer stands, though. No questions asked."

Kenny didn't answer, glaring at Craig in a way that he knew he didn't deserve. His hard stare was only met with passive indifference.

"Okay, whatever. I'm going home," Craig said, standing up and wiping dirt from the seat of his shorts. Instead of going back the way he came from, he carefully braced himself on the gutters and let himself drop the remaining few feet to the ground, landing easily and like he'd done it before. How he'd done it without twisting his ankle was a mystery (and a bit of a miracle), but Kenny didn't voice that.

"'Night, McCormick," Craig called over his shoulder, not even bothering to look back at Kenny as he walked forward, in the direction of his neighbourhood.

"Night, Tucker," Kenny muttered back, though he was almost sure he was too quiet and Craig was too far to actually be heard.

He stood as well and walked back over to where he'd climbed up, ready to use his usual trash pile to climb down easily. Except, it wasn't in the state that it usually was.

"That asshole knocked over my fuckin' trash ladder," he grumbled to himself.

He ended up jumping off the roof the same way Craig had done and twisted his ankle. He cursed him for that too.

Kenny slept restlessly that night, plagued with dreams of cigarette smoke and moons that consumed the sky.