Chapter Text
Midnight
It’s 2 a.m. when a blue Greyhound bus rumbles past a weathered sign that reads, “WELCOME TO SOUTH PARK. Population: my taint.” The graffiti is surprisingly elegant—almost artistic in its defiance.
Inside, passengers are curled beneath thin blankets and bundled in coats, trying to escape the bite of the Colorado cold. The overhead lights flicker on, casting a pale glow through the cabin. One by one, sleepy eyes blink open. Faces turn toward the windows as familiar signs slide into view: Tom’s Rhinoplasty. Post Office.
This isn’t just another pit stop.
The bus hisses as the brakes catch, groaning to a halt. Travelers stretch, yawn, and shuffle into the aisle, collecting their bags before stepping into the frosty South Park night.
“Craig.. Craig, wake up.” A curly, red-haired boy nudges his sleeping friend from the seat behind him. Craig flinches out of his dream, looking completely lost as to where he ended up with his neck pillow covered in fresh drool.
“Shit.. mm, are we here..?” He rubs his eyes open some more.
“Yeah, Wendy’s outside already c’mon, get your shit.” The pair get in line. Everyone is walking like zombies, the hoard steps out shivering and coughing.
“Kyle!” Wendy, a spec-wearing, black-haired girl in a purple jacket is waving towards the boys. They walk over, she’s standing by three big cases apart from the crowd. “I got your guy’s luggage.” She’s warming up her face with her mitten-hands.
“Damn, how’d you do that so fast?” Kyle mumbled through a yawn as Craig stretched, his joints popping after the grueling 26-hour drive from California.
Wendy just shrugged. No one had the energy for real conversation at two in the morning. The bus had dropped them off in front of the South Park Motel, where—thankfully—Wendy, ever the dependable one, had already called ahead to book a room with two beds.
They checked in without a word and trudged upstairs, dragging their luggage behind them.
“Why the hell would you get a room upstairs, dude?” Craig groaned, his voice thick with exhaustion.
Wendy rolled her eyes, hauling her suitcase up the final step. “Don’t see me bitchin’.”
They finally stopped at room 13. Inside, the air smelled like mildew and bad decisions. They got ready for bed in silence, grumbling at the sour stench, using the bathroom with the door wide open out of pure fatigue. Wendy claimed one bed, leaving Kyle and Craig to share the other. None of them cared about the roaches skittering along the windowsill. Sleep hit fast—and hard.
It’s 5am, on the other side of town.. music is bumping, untz untz untz… folks are grinding, sweating on each other. It’s sinful.. the underground scene is thriving. Women in bikinis and fur legwarmers jump to the music. The smell of smoke and alcohol pollutes the air, how can anyone feel safe in a place like this?
A lean young man in a dirty, white wife-beater tank top is dancing to the noise of the speakers. It’s not good noise, but off a tab of molly and a couple hits of the community bong, the DJ sounds like heaven. A girl with long brown hair streaked with blonde, wearing low-rise jeans, grinds her ass on him.
“Come home with me Tammy.” Kenny whispers in the girl’s ear, pulling her closer from behind her.
Tammy laughs, “Hahaa, You call that dump a home?” She whispers back, her breath is hot and heavy. The blonde man grabs her by the hips and kisses her neck, she smells like cigarettes, he loves it. Tammy’s loving it even more, her head rolls back and she audibly moans..
“Mmmm... Fuck it.”
Kenny and Tammy stumbled down the dimly lit street, laughter echoing between them as they turned the corner and slipped into the South Park Motel. They could barely walk straight—hands all over each other, tripping and giggling as they made their way to room 6.
Kenny pressed the brunette against the door, his lips trailing from her neck to her collarbone before finding hers again. She fumbled for the zipper of his jeans, breathless and eager.
“Whoa there, lady… my keys,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing.
Still grinning, he dug through his pockets until he found the keycard, swiping it with shaky hands. The lock clicked. He scooped her up by the thighs and carried her inside, the door swinging shut behind them amid her laughter.
What happened next would stay behind that door.
Morning
BEEP BEEP BEEP The digital clock reads 9:30am. BEEP BEEP BEEP The alarm rings in room 13. BEEP BEEP BEEP. A pale, freckled hand reaches the snooze button.
“Ughhhhhh.” Craig sits up yawning from his bed, he’s the first to wake up. Followed by Wendy’s yawns and Kyle’s coughing. They each take turns using the bathroom, showering and brushing teeth.
Wendy opens the door to let some fresh air in, she steps out into the sunny morning to stretch. Repping her UCLA merch, along with her pretty, yellow capri and checkered vans.
“Hnnng... I need some fuckin’ coffee.”
“Gross.. drink some water.” Craig stands next to her on the motel railing, handing Wendy a water bottle. She takes it. “Thanks.” They let out similar sighs, the first day back seems haunting.
“Got any plans?” Craig asks, squinting from the bright sun.
“Bebe's picking me up, going to the cafe.. Wanna come?”
Craig scoffs. “Tch, depends.. which cafe?”
Wendy turns to him in confusion, “You haven’t spoken to him?” He shakes and drops his head in embarrassment. She laughs at his despair.
Kyle joins them outside in a towel around his hips, guess the carpet matches the drapes.
“You’re gonna have to face him even- KENNY?!” The trio spots Kenny at the first floor, standing outside his room in nothing but gym shorts.
“Holy shit!” he exclaims, eyes wide with surprise and joy. He bolts toward the stairs, where Kyle waits at the top. The embrace they share—two childhood friends reunited—is the kind of moment that leaves a lasting mark. Behind them, Craig and Wendy approach slowly, exchanging awkward smiles as they walk towards them.
“Heeeey, Ken.” Wendy goes to hug him.
“Hey girl! Daaaaamn, you look good!” Kenny innocently announces, looking her up and down.
“You look... alright.” Wendy jests, he scoffs. She tickles him on his side. Wendy got pretty close to Kenny, since he was good friends with Stan all those years ago. She often hung out around his friends because they were always around and none of them were good enough to have girlfriends of their own.
“What's up dude?” Craig greets him, their handshake turned into a half embrace.
"Ayeee! My favorite douchebag, I miss you man. Dang.. so y’all finished school already?” Kenny asks the three of them.
“Yup, bachelor’s and all.” Craig sighs, the others nod tiredly. Not really beaming with excitement..
Kenny awkwardly tee-hee’s. “You guys hated it.” Craig, Kyle, and Wendy all nod aggressively.
The bags under their eyes scream “student syndrome.” Four years spent in another state—meeting new people, forgetting the old, drowning in endless studying and mountains of paperwork. You start to wonder: is getting an education even worth it if you're ignoring everything you hate about yourself and draining your bank account for a degree that might not even land you a stable job? Money feels evil. The system, a kind of hell. The only thing keeping these kids going is the promise of a break—even if it’s just to catch up on sleep.
“HELLOOO KENNNY??!!” Tammy is standing outside the same room that Ken came out of. She catches all of their attention, they each turn their heads.
“Goodmorning sunshine! See you later!” Ken yells back and blows her a kiss goodbye. She sticks out her angry middle finger reading - Fuck You! - she doesn't look too happy as she's walking away with her shoes in hand. Good thing she's hot, right Ken? Wouldn't doubt she feels used, but what else did she expect? This dynamic between them is typical. They party all night long, she fucks him, he finishes and they do it all over again next weekend.
“Seriously.. Tammy?” Kyle finds it hilarious that Ken is back at it with Tam, they’re both seriously perverted so it does make some sense. Their erotic ‘relationship’ started in high school.
“Eh.. we're on and off. She’s kinda crazy.” Wendy rolls her eyes at this remark, Kenny’s always been the type to play around with multiple people’s feelings, all for a smidge of intimacy. Tammy's lonely enough to put up with it.
BEEP BEEP A red, vintage convertible mustang pulls into the motel parking lot. A beautiful blonde, resembling Brigitte Bardot in white, cat-eye shaped sunglasses is waving out to the group. She's in black jeans and a white cami-top.
“Hi Craig! Kyle! Oh my god! When did you two get hot?!” Bebe has discovered the retro, rockabilly style and made it her own, she’s absolutely rocking it. The cramps’, “I was a teenage werewolf,” plays on the radio, her nails painted red.
“That’s for me.” Wendy quickly goes inside to grab her purse. The boys wave.
“Holy.. tits.” Kyle's in surprise at the sight of Bebe and how beautiful she's gotten. Moreso, how much she's grown in the chest region.
“Right?.. She’s perfect.” Kenny smirks and looks at the boys staring down at her.
Wendy comes out with her purse and nudges the boys each on their backs.
“See y’all later.” The boys wave goodbye and Wendy goes up to Bebe’s car door to hug her.
“Bye boys!” The music plays louder and the two girls leave the motel. The three boys stand in silence for a bit, thinking of what to say or wishing they had the same drive Wendy has to explore the town. Kenny decides to break the ice, he’s good at that.
“Y’all wanna party?” Kenny turns his back to rest his elbows on the rail.
“It’s 12pm, Ken, besides.. I gotta go see Ike.” Kyle goes inside to change out of the towel and into some jeans, he chooses to wear his green t-shirt with the fundamental theorem of calculus written across it.
“I’m gonna have to visit my family too.” Craig takes a swig of his water.
“Ahh right right, well after! I’m crashing hard anyways.. uhh see you later? Text me!” Kenny walks down the stairs, his feet touching the pebbled steps must be dirty. “I’m just gonna take a nap.”
“Cool… Wait.. Kenny, do you live here??”
“Yeah dude! You should check out my place, it’s sick.” Kenny is acting strange, he's scratching his nose and using his hands to talk.
“Yea..Yeah, Alright, see ya dude.” Craig hesitantly heads into the room, sitting on the edge of the unmade bed watching Kyle put his black boots on.
“Did you know he lives here?” Craig asks.
“Hm? Kenny? Stan told me a little about it, but I think he’s only been here for a few weeks.” Kyle grabs a brown hat and his smartphone.. Ready to go.
“Listen, just break the awkward tension and catch up with Tweek. I’m sure he’d appreciate it, I’ll see you tonight.”
Craig looked down, nodded in agreement, and gave a small wave goodbye. Tweek would appreciate the gesture—and besides, their paths were bound to cross again someday. Things between them hadn’t ended badly, or well. They’d just… ended.
Back in high school, they’d been inseparable. Sleepovers, walks to school, weekends spent sharing lunches and inside jokes. People always whispered that there had to be something more between them, but they brushed it off—they were just best friends.
Then came the scholarship—nearly a thousand miles away. At first, they kept in touch, Skyping for hours whenever they could. Then it became every few weeks. Then months. Then nothing.
Still, there had always been something unspoken between them. A quiet, mutual fear that said, I’m scared I’ll never see you again. But life moved on, and so did they. Things changed. And so did they.
Whatever. It's the past.. it shouldn't matter anymore, Craig decides it’s time to get out of his pj’s and change into some clothes like a member of society should. Gray tech pants and a blue hoodie. He grabs his things and walks down the road, headed towards his family's home.
Has the town changed at all? Is the South Park PD defunded? Tegridy Farms must be upgrading. Wonder if Eric Cartman is still a dick.
Noon
Wendy and Bebe leave the cafe, having stayed for an hour catching up with Tweek on his break. The cafe - Tweek Bros - has gotten quite dead over the years. Harbucks has taken most of their customers.
"He seems to be doing good." Wendy tells her friend on their way down the street.
"Eh, today.. maybe. Tomorrow? Who the hell knows." Bebe puts her hands in her pockets. The girls walk down a few blocks together, men on the street stare dashingly at the hot blonde with the great rack. Bebe doesn't mind the stares, she is in control.
"This whole town is in love with you." Wendy awkwardly smiles at the guys walking by, not because she thinks it's for her.. but she has no idea what you're supposed to do in this situation.
“They are sad losers with wives or girlfriends that will never be satisfied with themselves.” Bebe’s confidence is inspiring—she never lets anyone, especially a man, get the upper hand. After a classmate repeatedly groped and photographed her during P.E. in sophomore year, she finally broke down and told her parents. The boy was suspended for sexual harassment, and her parents enrolled her in Krav Maga. Since then, her mother made her promise never to let a man think he’s above her.
“You’re telling me Clyde doesn’t stare and gawk at other women on the street?” Wendy asks.
“Definitely not. He's kind of like, the best person ever actually."
“Wow... Who is this man and what has he done to Clyde Donovan?!” Definitely surprising. Clyde would always boast about how many women he hooked up with that week.. No one ever believed him but it’s surprising he didn’t live up to his dream of being a womanizer. They laugh.
“Oh god.” Bebe shakes her head.
“He’s such a character,” Bebe laughs. “When we first started dating, I told him I hadn’t eaten all day. He showed up at my house around 1 a.m. with ten soft shell tacos and a Baja Blast.” She and Clyde have been together for two and a half years. He’s not perfect—a bit of a ditz and sometimes oblivious—but he’s genuinely sweet. Bebe has a great day every day; Clyde only has a great day if she looks at him. The girls round the corner into a quiet neighborhood
“Here we are.” Bebe goes up to a code box, 1290. The box buzzes and Bebe opens the door, her apartment is in the back and up the stairs. She pulls out her keys from her purse and unlocks her house door. Clyde and a dark haired boy in a beanie are sitting on the couch, a bong and several snacks sit on the counter.
“Bebe! Ah—sorry, I thought I’d have time to clean.” Clyde jumps to his feet the moment the door creaks open. He scrambles to tidy up, darting to the kitchen for the trash bin, completely missing the old friend standing beside Bebe.
A loud, obnoxious cough cuts through the room—smoke curling from the lips of the boy slouched on the couch, struggling to catch his breath. Wendy spots him. Stan. The dark-haired guy in the beanie, half-sunken into the cushions.
Their eyes meet for just a second.
Clyde returns to the door, blinking in surprise as he finally registers who’s standing there.
“Wendy!!” Clyde kisses his girlfriend on the cheek, before going for a hug directed at Wendy.
“How are you?? How was Cali? Did you tan on the beach and go to huge parties at mansions?! You look really tired, do you want water?” Stan gets up from the couch, clearing his throat of the hot smoke he inhaled before. He stands behind Clyde, inhales and smiles at Wendy, she smiles back.
“Clyde, California is overrated.. You would love it there.” Wendy catches up to Donovan’s tangent. He laughs, can’t help but agree. He turns around and catches sight of Stan awkwardly still.
“Stan! This is Wendy… but you already.. know that.” Awkward.
“Okay babe, let’s tidy up.” Bebe giggles and snatches Clyde away from the pair. The tension in the air is somehow embarrassingly adorable.
“It’s really good to see you.” Stan says, he has his hands in his pockets. Is that fine? Does he hug her? Does she want to hug? She’s never really been the type of person to like being touched.
“Do you even know where you are?” Wendy makes light of the situation, he has to be on cloud9 right about now. Is he ready to have this conversation? He laughs anyways. Smoking weed has become normal for him, bud is so easy to access (thanks dad) and it helps him relax.
“Haha, I’m kind of a pro now… Wanna go out to the patio?” he says, jerking his thumb toward it. She nods, and he leads the way.
The patio is just ahead. Wendy reaches for the door, but Stan beats her to it, his hand brushing the handle first. He stands about 5'11"—a solid seven inches taller than her. They exchange a quick smile and step outside.
Stan follows close behind, catching a hint of her warm, ambery perfume. Subtly, he sniffs his underarm, then quietly slides the patio door shut behind them.
“Uh.. sorry, I practiced how this would go already, but.. I lost it.” He scratches the back of his head. Twiddling with his dark hair.
“No, um, I didn’t even expect to see you so soon.” The pair stand at the railing, overlooking several homes, women walking their dogs and men on their daily runs. It’s quiet. Stan needs to break the silence, now.
“Are you staying with your mom?”
“Huh? Oh.. yeah.. Well not right now, we have a room at the motel and we check out tomorrow morning. She’s picking me up.” Stan listens.
“Nice, how’s it been so far? Same as it’s always been?”
“Kinda.. It’s cold.. And still a little dirty but it's familiar.” She sniffles, a result from the previous night out of the bus.
“Oh, we saw Kenny in the morning.”
“Ohhh, right, did you check out his place?” Wendy turns in confusion.
“What do you mean? Does he live there?”
“Mmm, yep. Since May.”
“Oh.. shit.” She doesn’t try to ask why.
“So.. how are you? How was LA? Did you make any new friends?” Stan turns towards her, his eyes are sleepy and it’s only 3pm. But his smile is so welcoming with genuine concern for her well-being. She turns back at him, her cherubic cheeks feel warmer. Their eye contact doesn’t seem to break so easily.
“Yeah… I made some friends. But it’s so different from here. Everyone’s always in a rush, the streets never quiet down. At the start of my last year, I actually got free Coachella tickets and went alone. It wasn’t scary, though—I met some really cool people.”
Stan could listen to her talk for hours. He already knows most of what she’s saying—Wendy’s Instagram is his most viewed profile. She took stunning photos with her Canon film camera, each one capturing little pieces of her world.
His favorite? A shot of her with a purple streak in her hair, mid-experiment. It felt like he was there, watching it unfold—like he was part of it, even from a distance.
“And my roommate, Betsy—she’s this hilarious, crazy girl who had never been vaccinated before,” Wendy says, shaking her head.
Stan’s eyes widen, clearly concerned.
“Yeah,” she laughs. “She’s a total conspiracy theorist. Sometimes she’ll pretend she’s being mind-controlled until I play some ridiculous techno track.”
Stan bursts out laughing, and soon they’re both caught in a fit of giggles, the kind that lingers for a moment too long.
“Think they’re gonna bang tonight?” Clyde is staring out at the patio from inside. They look good together, he’s rooting for them.
“I god-damn hope so. They both need to get laid..” Bebe stands to the right of him, hands on her hips. They watch the past lovers talk and laugh. Things are looking up. Don't blow it, Stan.
Los Angeles
“Fuck! Why is it so cold?!”
“Stan, don’t be a wuss—get in already!”
Stan hesitates, nervously digging his toes into the warm Santa Monica sand as the waves rush toward him. Back in Colorado, there are only lakes—more for fishing and dumping than swimming. No ocean, no waves, no surfer dudes. No practice for this.
Wendy, waist-deep in the water, moves with ease—she thrives in the mix of chaos and calm. She steps out of the wave and walks toward him, holding out her hand with a playful smile.
“I’m scared!” Stan yelps.
“So, do it scared.” She smiles, he can’t help but melt. Stan takes her hand and they inch closer to the deeper part of the water. They swim together under the California sun.
It’s Wendy’s last month of her first year of university, Stan came to visit her for a few days. They had been a couple since freshman year of high school, occasionally getting into minor arguments but otherwise deemed normal for a young couple. Stan grew out of his immaturity sooner than later, he did it all for her. The day at the beach is over, same as their time together. Stan has a bus to catch. They pack up his backpack in Wendy's dorm and take a taxi to the bus station. Stan’s looking sick to his stomach, he doesn’t want to say goodbye.
The couple sit at the bus stop, dreadfully quiet...
“Wendy.. I miss you too damn much. Come back please. Please come back.” He begs.
“Stan.. everything will be okay. It’s just three more years, time will pass anyways.”
“You don’t get it.. I won't be okay. I've been so lost and lonely without you. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Wendy comes to a realization. All this time, he has become wildly co-dependent on their relationship. The future he envisioned was centered all around HER. Who was he, if not just a part of the girl that he saw every day? Stan didn’t have dreams of his own, he was okay with the mundane life, so long as it had her in it. It wasn't a bad thing, but Wendy couldn't stand being nobody.
Everything he did—every plan, every choice—revolved around her. Stan, terrified of being left behind, clung too tightly. Their relationship had become a cycle of obsession and mistrust—always checking in, always worrying, always holding back.
Wendy thinks back on all the times they let jealousy and comfort get in the way of their own lives, their own growth. It wasn’t love anymore. It was fear.
“Please babe, come back... Or what if I move here?” Wendy looks shocked.
“What!? No, Stan.. look, this time apart can be good for us.” She pleads.
“....What?... What do you mean? Why do you need time apart from me?”
“I just need to figure things out.. on my own.”
“Why? Don’t you miss me? You don’t.. Some days I can’t even get a call from you!”
“What?? Of course I miss you.. Stan, I’m really busy, I'm only gonna get busier. Sacrifices need to be made or we’re gonna be living with your dad by the time we’re 30, working shitty part-time jobs and not making anything of our lives!!” They sit in silence for a few minutes, but it feels like forever.
“Do you.. Do you want to break up?” Wendy turns to Stan, both teary-eyed.
“I love you Stan, but.. I need space. And I need you to figure out who you want to be. I don’t want you to be stuck and docile.. I want you to take life by the balls and be someone of value.” Wendy’s laying out the cold hard facts, they never wanted to say it out loud, but it always lingered. Stan begins to cry. Did he self sabotage for the millionth time? This protest he threw on Wendy’s independence might’ve just tipped her over the edge. This relationship is a cycle of control and insecurity that needs to end.
“I understand.. I’m sorry Wendy. I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve more.” He cowers.
This isn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to step up and have confidence in their ability to make it work. However, deep down she knows that she's not getting that from Stan right now. And it’d be horrible to force him to be something that he’s not ready to be. They both cry together. Wendy picks up Stan’s head from looking at the ground and she gives him a passionate kiss through the salty tears and the frowned smile. The bus arrives. Stan pulls her in for a warm embrace. He hugs her tight, he doesn’t want to let go.
“I'm too scared to let go." Wendy speaks into his chest. He pulls off the hug and looks down into her eyes.
"So do it scared." He coos.
They kiss and exchange soft I love you’s. As the bus engine rumbles to life, Stan turns to the window for one last look. Wendy stands there, smiling warmly, blowing him a kiss as the bus pulls away with a squeak.
Stan cries the entire ride home, curled into the cold, empty seat.
The year that follows is hell. He can’t eat. He loses his job. Most days are spent buried in bed, endlessly scrolling through Wendy’s social media, searching for signs she might still miss him.
Every post feels like a message. Every smile, every look in her eyes.
Kyle and Craig got regular texts from him—What’s she doing? Has she mentioned me? At first, they answered, trying to help. The guy was clearly heartbroken, depressed. But eventually, they stopped. Every update only dragged him deeper. It hurt to watch him cling to a version of love that had already let go.
Stan got closer to Clyde and Tolkien after everything, and they were really there to help him cheer up and see the logic in things. They went to the gym together, often went out on the weekends, and shared similar interests like video games. Clyde has Bebe and Tolkien started going on dates. Stan wasn’t sure if he was ready to start dating, every time he heard Wendy’s name his stomach dropped, remembering all over again that he’s single and so is she. Every woman he talked to felt forced. The boys were once successful in hooking him up with a girl at a bar, but after he took her home. He was too chicken to go all the way. Realistically, he only wanted a hug. The touch of a woman was enough. She asked him to take her home after he only asked to kiss her.
Somehow, Wendy’s self-sufficiency and Stan’s romantic detachment made the universe bring them together again.
...
“Well, I should probably go see my mom now.” Wendy speaks from the patio, aside from Stan. He nods and makes his way to the sliding door to open it. They enter the apartment.
“Tell her I said hi.” Wendy nods and smiles, making her way inside. Clyde enters from another room.
“Wendy! You should come to Tolkien’s birthday party this Saturday. It’s gonna be craaazy.”
Clyde does a cute little dance, parties at Tk’s place happen pretty often. He has a huge house with a pool in the backyard, and his parents go on vacation almost every month. He’s wealthy enough to have the housekeepers tidy up the drunk mess in the morning.
“Ohh.. I don't know, I’m a little over the partying.” Wendy scratches her head. Clyde pouts.
Bebe approaches from behind Clyde and plants a kiss on his cheek. Stan turns away, sorrow clouding his eyes. She picks up her purse and keys, then slips her arm around Wendy.
“We'll be there!” Wendy sighs but has no choice but to accept the invitation. They say goodbye to the boys, Bebe drives Wendy to her childhood home.
Evening
Kyle sits on a cyan blue bed with his little brother. They're in his room, playing a zombie game on Xbox.
"So Ike, how's high school treating you?"
Several gunshots and zombie noises echo from the tv.
"Eh, it's okay, I hate homework. I don't think I want to go to college." Ike is currently in his sophomore year of high school. He has a good friend group and has fairly decent grades, he'd much rather play video games. He was rather spoiled growing up so that made him pretty lazy, their mother, Sheila, still gives him a weekly allowance. Kyle had to get a job early on in his teen years, teaching kids and elders how to use computers. It worked out anyways, his love for technology earned him his degree in computer science.
"I mean, you don't need to go. But, life does come fast. You wanna stay here forever?"
"Yeah, I think I'm good here."
Kyle hated this town. South Park was notoriously known for the trashy, ignorant people who accompany it. Some parts aren't so bad, the good people have found each other. Maybe Kyle has gotten comfortable in the gentrified city of Los Angeles.
Kyle shrugs. Ike will probably figure it out eventually.
...
"Mom, you really believe that Craig would have a girlfriend??" A teenage girl at the dinner exclaims in between bites of her meal. Craig aims his middle finger at her. She sticks out her tongue.
"Yes I do Tricia, your brother is a smart young man. Tell us, son, is there anyone we should know about?" Their mother sips on her wine, it's a celebration. Their father is sitting at the end of the table, listening attentively but not adding much to the conversation. He glances at his son, suspiciously waiting for an answer.
"Uhh.. no, not really. None of the girls there were really my type." Craig says, uninterested.
Back in LA, the trio often went out to house parties just to not spend days rotting away studying in their rooms. Craig seemed to be the one to get the most compliments, he's tall, handsome and has a nonchalant type of personality that's attractive to most women.
"CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG!" Frat boys and party girls bump their fists in the air. A curly, red-headed dude is funneling a beer. Kyle decides that tonight is the night he needs to just forget everything and get monumentally wasted.
"He's gonna regret that shit in the morning." Craig holds a red solo cup, next to Wendy. They laugh as they stare at their stumbling friend walking towards them.
"Kyle, you're having fun for once! I'm so proud of you!" Wendy yells at him, the music is louder than their voices. Kyle dances and grabs Wendy by the hand to give her a spin. He spots a bottle of vodka sitting lonely at the table next to them, going for it like a sprinter.
"Let's take a shot!" Craig and Wendy shake their heads, one more shot and they won't want to stop.
"NOW!" Kyle yells. They oblige out of fear, Kyle's a scary drunk. He's unstoppable. The trio cheers their shot glasses and they all simultaneously drink the poison. Then.. they take another shot.. and another.
The electronic music bumps louder and the tripod is on the dance floor - If one of them falls, they all fall. The dance floor being the backyard of a frat house and the music playing from an ipod connected to the aux cord of a party speaker. Kyle and Wendy are throwing down some serious footwork. Craig happily bobs his head up and down to the beats, the alcohol must be hitting right if they can get that out of him. Wendy pulls them together to form a group huddle.
"Guys.. I have an idea. I think.. we need to get laid tonight." Kyle and Craig gasp before they giggle. Is she crazy?! No, she's just incredibly drunk.
"Seriously! I haven't had any since Stan, Kyle.. you haven't had any since JUNIOR year, and Craig.. you're a fucking virgin!" They all burst out obnoxiously laughing. They've been so trapped in their dorms, going wild right now seems like the absolute best idea.
"Okay, but whoever DOESN'T have sex tonight, has to run through the street..naked." Kyle calls out. They smile and agree. Can’t be that hard right? It’s college, EVERYONE is horny! Time check.. it's 10pm, they huddle their hands together in the middle of the circle and cheer, "South Park!" They go off on their own, time to get to work.
...
Kyle has enough liquid courage to speak to women, but not enough to make any kind of move.
“You’re really pretty,” Kyle said with a crooked smile. “And I love that you don’t even bother with class. You’ve got it all figured out—day drinking must be… freaking awesome.”
He reached out, awkwardly brushing a strand of hair from the young girl’s face. She stiffened, eyes darting away as if searching for an escape. Kyle noticed her unease and assumed it was about him—his appearance, probably. People had called him ugly when he was a kid, and maybe they were right. He’d told himself he didn’t care anymore. At least, that’s what he liked to believe.
“Aw… haha, thanks.” She gave a light laugh, her tone airy and practiced. There was something shallow about it, as if the words barely skimmed the surface. The man had just mentioned he was in a demanding, prestigious major—smart, tall, with glasses that framed his freckled face perfectly. Yet she seemed more interested in how the moment looked than what it meant.
"Okay, you don't have to like.. stay and talk to me." Kyle is very confrontational, but respectfully.. no need to waste both of our time, right?
"Oh.. sorry." She slowly walks away, you'll get the next one tiger.
Kyle shrugs and goes inside to the living room to sit on the couch, to the right of Craig.
"You're not even trying." Kyle tells him. Confused, he hasn't gone up to a single girl since they've been there.
"Patience you must have, my young Padawan." Nerd.
A thin girl with short, blonde hair over-hears Craig's clever reference, she sits next to him.
"I love Star Wars. I was Princess Leia for Halloween last year." She enthusiastically tells the black-haired boy. He looks over to her.
"Really? That's hot." Craig is so charming in a way which he doesn't even need to try. His eyes are relaxed, and his voice is raspy. The girl giggles. They continue talking about their love for the classic movies. Kyle's had enough, he rolls his eyes and stands up.
"I gotta pee anyways.." He walks upstairs, passing clouds of smoke and several groups talking about anything or nothing at all. Kyle knocks on the bathroom door, nobody answers. He enters. Holy Shit!
"Dude!" Wendy is on the bathroom counter, topless with her legs wrapped around a boy with emo hair and combat boots. He turns around to look at Kyle. Kyle almost chokes.
"...Stan..?" Kyle focuses his drunk eyes, woah.. this guy that Wendy's hooking up with looks way too much like her ex boyfriend.
"Fuck off!" Wendy kicks the door with her foot, it slams in her friend's face.
"I. am.. So sorry.." She innocently giggles into his chest, he smiles.
"Seems like you have a type." He kisses her wet lips, she unbuckles his studded belt. He runs hot kisses along her neck, she moans.
"Ugh, you guys are the worst." All the pent up sexual urge turns her on even more, she only ever had sex with Stan. It feels good to somehow relive it.
Kyle glanced away from the door, his expression sinking, he sees Craig and the blonde girl brush past him, disappearing into an empty bedroom. A heavy sigh slipped out—disappointment, envy, and self-doubt all tangled together.
How do they do it? How are his friends already pairing off like it’s nothing? If they’re that attractive, that confident, why even wait this long?
What’s wrong with him? Was there really no one out there who liked awkward, lanky guys with a sharp wit? The thought stung. Being rejected over and over had started to wear him down.
With a quiet groan, Kyle turned away and trudged downstairs, then down another flight to the basement. He wasn’t looking for company anymore—just another beer.
He takes a cold one and sits on the couch, around him are multiple couples making out and downright almost getting nasty. How lonely he must feel taking a swig from his beer before he notices the girl from earlier walking down the steps to shyly sit next to him. He looks at her in surprise, she looks back to give him a warm smile.
"Hey." Kyle murmurs.
"Hi.. sorry, about earlier.. I just.. I've kinda had a thing for you for a while.. You never really noticed." She sighs out of relief. The awkward tension upstairs must've just been her desire for him and her embarrassment to admit it. He's incredibly shocked. A pretty girl has a crush on him?? He doesn't even know what to say.
He kisses her. The kiss turns sloppy real quick. They start to get nastier than the other couples there. Everyone else starts to get up to leave them alone, since they're noticing him unbuckling his pants immediately. No way is he streaking through the street tonight, he ain't wasting no more time. He takes his pants off, then his boxers. She furrows her eyebrows and gasps..
"You're huge!" Kyle smiles, buck teeth and all. Guess the big dick makes up for the fugly.
Upstairs, in a master bedroom, Craig lays on top of the tiny blonde, pulling apart from a hot kiss. They're in nothing but underwear. Craig reaches over to open a nightstand next to him, she takes off her panties. There has to be some condoms around here. He finds one! You've got this Craig, don't chicken out now. He takes down his boxers to reveal his hard dick.
"I just gotta.. put this on." He rips open the condom wrapper, it's slimy and rubbery. He totally hates the texture of it.
"You uh, need some help?" She giggles. "These are pretty tricky. Haha." She takes the condom and starts pushing it into Craig's erection.
"Yeah.. I've uh, never really had to put one on." The girl wraps his dick, then glances back up at him.
“Ha! What are you, like… a virgin?” she teased, her tone light but edged with disbelief. There’s no way, she thought. A guy that good-looking, twenty-two, in university? That kind of virgin just doesn’t exist.
"Um. Yeah, I am.. Is that fine?"
"What? No.. I mean, yeah! That's fine. I guess." She drops her eye contact with him. He notices her discomfort and hides his member behind a pillow.
"..Are you sure..?"
"Sorry. I just prefer more.. experienced men.." She sympathizes, but does want her preferences to be known. Craig probably can’t give her the rough, sloppy sex she desires.
"Oh! Oh..okay, that's fine." Craig slips on his boxers. He doesn't seem disappointed, he probably should've expected that reaction. He stands up to look around the room, grabbing pieces of discarded clothing. He hands her the skirt and her cami top that he took off of her earlier. She gives him a thin-lipped smile.
"Thanks." The girl sits up to slip into her clothes, he nods, she's happy to find out that he's so kind and respectful. His demeanor seems very intimidating but he's really just a sweetheart. Craig changes into his jeans and t-shirt. "I'm sorry." The girl stands up.
"Don't worry about it, I understand. It was good to do everything else with you, though." He smiles at her. She goes down to give him a kiss on the cheek, then she leaves him alone in the room.
He sat on the edge of the king-sized bed for a while, staring at nothing, before finally standing to leave. Man, she was beautiful, he thought. Her short blonde hair carried the soft scent of vanilla. Her pale skin, those sad blue eyes, the subtle puppy-dog eyeliner, and her pouty pink lips—all of it felt strangely familiar, like someone he’d met before.
He hadn’t gotten what he came for, not really, but still—being that close to someone meant something. He craved touch, quiet and unspoken. Always waiting for the right person, even if that person never came.
Craig didn’t mind waiting forever.
…
“Now why the hell would you tell her you’re sexually inexperienced?!” Kyle asks, clearly confused. Wendy punches him in the arm. He “ow’s.” Craig cackles.
“Not everyone’s a slut like you dude. Boning in a room full of people!?”
“You’re talkin.. You wanna fuck Stan sooo bad. You miss him!” Wendy rolls her eyes.
“Whatever. Let’s go home.”
It’s 2am, the trio leave the party to walk back to campus, joined by other tired, drunk students in the neighborhood.
“WAIT!” Wendy shouts, stopping them in their tracks.
“Craig! Take off your clothes, now!” she shouted.
Kyle’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god… Craig, off with them,” he echoed, already tugging his sweater off his shoulders,
“Fuuuuck,” Craig groaned. “I was hoping you guys forgot.” Still, he peeled off his shirt—rules were rules. You snooze, you lose.
Moments later, Craig stood there in nothing but his boxers, goosebumps rising on his skin as the cold midnight air bit at him. A few drunken partygoers paused to stare as they passed, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.
“Those need to come off too,” Wendy said, crossing her arms.
“Hell no,” Craig shot back. “Campus security’ll catch me! You know this is illegal, right?”
“Off. Now. Or you’re a pussy,” Kyle said firmly, eyes locked on him. Wendy nodded in agreement.
Craig leaned his head back and let out a long, dramatic sigh. There was no backing down—no one wanted to be remembered as the guy who chickened out of a bet. With a reluctant groan, he slid his boxers down, using his hands to cover himself as best he could.
Kyle scooped up the discarded boxers along with the rest of Craig’s clothes. “All you gotta do now is make it back to the dorm,” he said, grinning.
“Fuck you guys,” Craig muttered, before taking off at a sprint.
His friends howled with laughter as his pale backside disappeared into the dark. They chased after him, their shouts echoing through campus while onlookers—students they’d have to face in class the next morning—stared and pointed in disbelief. Laughter rippled through the night air, wild and unstoppable.
Midnight, 12am
After hours of spending dinner with their families, catching up on old times and pressures of starting their careers, the trio’s back in their motel room. They each got home around the same time, walking past Kenny’s room to realize he’s not home. Family Feud plays on the television. Wendy sips a cup of chamomile tea, Kyle’s playing pokemon on his Nintendo DS.
"I saw Stan today.” Wendy’s taken off her contacts, her red frames sit on her nose. Kyle and Craig turn to her in surprise.
“What?! How?” Kyle asks. She shrugs.
“He was getting high with Clyde in their apartment.” She takes a sip, It’s still hot enough to fog up her glasses.
“Ha, what a loser.” Craig never really got along with Stan, they’re just not really compatible.
“Did he say anything to you?” Kyle asks.
“We talked, but it was just to catch up.” Wendy confides in them. Kyle questionably squints his eyes. Recalling that one night he caught her having sex with Stan’s doppelganger. He goes back to his game, Craig returns to his gameshow.
“I didn’t see anyone besides my family… oh, and Kenny,” Craig said.
“Oh! I actually dropped off his little sister when I went to pick up Ike after school,” Kyle replied.
“Has their house fallen apart yet?” Wendy asked, half-joking but with a trace of real concern in her voice.
Everyone knew about the McCormick place—it was rundown and grim, tucked in the poorer part of town where most houses had turned into party spots or fronts for dealing. Their parents were usually drunk or high, and the kids hated being there. They spent most of their time with friends, trying to fill the emptiness of home.
“Dude, it’s gotten way worse since Ken’s been gone,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Remember how he used to clean up after everyone every morning? Now no one does. And Kevin—he moved to New York to get married. He lives in a fuckin’ penthouse.”
Unbelievable. Kevin, the oldest McCormick brother—four years older than Kenny—had finally had enough. He’d walked away, leaving his siblings behind to fend for themselves. It was hard to blame him. Life there hadn’t been easy, and maybe starting fresh was the only way he could survive it.
“Poor Karen,” Craig said softly, genuine sympathy in his voice. His little sister Tricia had been best friends with Karen since middle school. He remembered driving them to the mall, to the park, picking them up for sleepovers.
“Their parents are disgusting, man,” Kyle added, shaking his head. “Didn't they get Tweek hooked on meth when he was thirteen?”
Craig sadly nods, "Yeah, he had to go to rehab." He could still remember how strange Tweek had become back then—restless, twitchy, always on edge. No one understood what was going on until he finally admitted it: he’d been snorting crystal meth regularly. His parents sent him to a teen treatment center for three months. When he came back, he was different—steady, focused, clean.
He never relapsed again.
“Kenny’s going down that same path, isn’t he..?” Kyle feels for his old best friend.
Kenny was always against his parent’s addiction growing up, they would always bring random people to their house just to get intoxicated. It was dangerous, the kids would lock themselves in their shared room just hoping they would be forgotten. If Stuart and Carol spotted them during their binges, they saw red. Convinced that their three children were Satan's spawn out to steal their innocent souls. Kyle remembers the stories – Yanking sweet Karen around the room by her long hair, Kenny pleading for them to stop, Kevin often needed to be forced to fight them out of the room. Karen’s big brothers had enough, they cut Karen’s hair short enough to not get so easily tangled.
Wendy, Craig and Kyle really want to know what happened. Why is Kenny acting out now after all those years of despising the people that raised him?
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow, I need help taking my stuff home. Craig, are you staying with your parents?” Kyle asks.
“Uhh.. yeah, just for a few days. Jimmy said I can stay with him, I’ll ask again.”
The trio tuck themselves into bed and go to sleep. Here's to another day in the quiet, little, redneck, podunk, white-trash U-S-A.