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luna-themoonie · 9 months

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Chapter Eight

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Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.

Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?

What was the dare?:

Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.

~~~

Stan was exhausted by the time Sunday came around. Kyle wasn't available yesterday like he had hoped so they decided today would work instead. Which… kinda sucked because his thoughts didn't leave him alone once it was a new day. He kept replaying the thoughts he had at the picnic and the feeling of constant nausea he would experience. He was still confused and he didn't like it.

He had tried calling Tweek again, hoping he had his phone this time, but to no avail. Craig had picked up for him again and Stan had hung up on him before he was able to work on any of his nerves.

He tried to ignore it, but that just made it worse and he just couldn't stand it. So, he ended up picking up an extra shift to deter his racing mind, but all that did was just make another part of him feel fatigued. Even sleeping wasn't enough to distract him because once he was aware that he was awake, nerves came flooding back and he couldn’t stop thinking about Butters again. He was all he could think about and no distraction was enough. He spent his entire Saturday thinking about the blonde. And he hated it.

He couldn't stop thinking about how he looked under the stars. Or how Stan had thought, for a moment, that the other boy was pretty. Or how when he hugged him, it was like he was given just a few moments of peace and the unfamiliar happiness mixed with a bundle of nerves piling in his stomach. What can he say? Butters' sunny demeanor was addictive once you got a small taste.

It shouldn't bother him, it doesn't bother him… but the more he thought of him, the more out of control his thoughts became. And that's when the nerves and nausea would get worse.

Everything that he recently learned about the blonde would spiral together and create unwanted images in his head. Now he kept on thinking about him making out with different people. It didn't matter if he knew them or not. And it made him feel so guilty.

Then he would start to think about Kenny and Butters kissing. How that would look. It would make his stomach churn. And then Kenny morphed into someone that looked eerily like himself. Now he was thinking about kissing Butters himself. How that would look. He even thought about how it would be like to kiss Kenny.

He felt his stomach give an intense flip and he let out a groan. It was all he could think about ever since the thought had first crossed his mind and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. They were his friends. He shouldn't be thinking about them like that.

Butters did offer to help him if he had any questions, but Stan just felt embarrassed just thinking about it. What was he going to do? He can't just go up to him and say, "Hey, dude! Ever since you told me you were bisexual I can't stop thinking about you making out with random people, including myself! I don’t know why, do you? And can I kiss you to see if it's just as enticing as you make it sound?"

He didn't want to take advantage of Butters' sexuality just because he was curious. But at the same time, he felt if he didn’t do anything, his thoughts would eat him alive. He tried telling himself that he just misses Wendy and that's why he's feeling confused. But the more he tried repeating that, the less his mind believed it.

He was hoping maybe Kyle could talk some sense into him; connect the dots as he usually did. Help him understand why nothing was working to stop him from having these inappropriate thoughts about his friends. And maybe, finally, these stupid thoughts can go away and he can focus on something else. Like finding out how to get Wendy back! Though, he still wasn't sure what he had done wrong in the first place.

He and Kyle had decided to meet up in the park today since his best friend wanted to practice at the basketball court for an upcoming game. It wasn't too far and they planned on even getting some food afterward too. But… there was one problem - he couldn’t get up.

He wanted to, he really did, but all he could manage was to turn to lay on his other side. He still had to see Kyle. He tried repeating in his head to try to convince himself to get up. All this did was fill him with an empty sense of dread that he would have to get up sooner or later.

He didn’t want to cancel on him again - he was more prone to doing that these days - but his entire body just felt like lead. He just couldn't move.

He heard his dog yawn and let out a whine as he padded around his room. Stan sighed and grabbed his pillow to cover his head. And he had to let Sparky out.

His eyes kept on drifting closed, but sleep wouldn't overtake him no matter how long he stayed in his bed. Sometimes… He just wanted to sleep forever, hide himself from everything and everyone. And plus, nothing bad ever happens when you’re sleeping.

Sparky let out another loud whine and Stan was quick to hush him. "Just hold it a little longer, boy," he mumbled before hiding under his covers. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried again to lull himself back to sleep.

A soft knock on his door had his eyes shooting open instead. "Stan?"

He tried to respond to his mom, but the only thing that came out was a low hum.

He heard his door open. "Stanley?"

He hummed again, this time louder.

"Sparky has been whining this entire time. You should take him for a walk."

He didn't acknowledge this at first. He just shifted under his cocoon of blankets to try to stay within the warmth. He gave her a hum of acknowledgment but still made no effort to move.

His mom sighed from the doorway and he heard her walk into his room. "Fine, Stanley, I'll take him. I made some breakfast for you. Can you at least go down to eat that? Please? And maybe we can talk? "

He took a moment before he gave another hum and listened as she spoke to Sparky in a high voice. She did this for a bit before the door closed and Stan was now left alone. Stan sighed as he continued to lay there, struggling with an internal battle of whether he should go join her or stay in bed. She was always there for him and supported him in all of his endeavors. He at least owed having breakfast with her.

He sighed again and pushed himself up in his bed after making his final decision. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and paused again. Okay, we're getting there. He stretched and the immediate desire to lay back down overtook him. He forced himself to ignore this and got up to walk over to his dresser. This was where the key to surviving most of his days was. He crouched down and pulled open the last drawer, revealing the extra clothes he piled in there without bothering to fold them. He began to rummage through the bottom drawer and pulled out a familiar substance - his just-under-half-empty bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.

He licked his lips as he opened the bottle and gulped down the remaining amount, letting the warmth distract him just for a moment. He paused for a long moment before reaching back into the drawer and pulling out a new bottle. He opened it and took a few big gulps before deciding it was enough. He rehid the bottle back in his drawer, planning on disposing of it later when his mom wasn't around to see. He pushed himself up, rubbing the remaining sleep from his face before leaving his room.

As he made his way downstairs to join his mom for breakfast, he couldn't help but feel the effects of the whiskey taking hold of him. The world felt a little fuzzy around the edges, but he was used to this feeling by now. He had been sneaking sips of alcohol every now and then since he was thirteen; originally trying it when he was about ten. It was a way to cope with his problems, a way to forget about all the ways the world was turning to shit around him.

His mom was already seated at the table when he entered the kitchen, munching on a slice of toast. She gave him a small smile, noticeably happy that he had decided to join her. "Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"

He mumbled a response and took a seat across from her, trying to ignore the way his head was beginning to pound.

She poured him a cup of coffee and pushed a plate of scrambled eggs, his own sausage, and toast towards him. "Eat up, honey. You'll need your energy for the day."

He picked up his fork and started poking at the eggs, trying to force himself to eat despite his lack of appetite. He took a sip of coffee and glanced up at his mom, noticing how her eyes lingered on him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and set his drink down. “So… how has work been?” He asked, hoping to distract her enough for him not to feel like she was watching his every move.

“Oh, it’s been good. There was this client that came in the other day and she-”

Honestly, Stan didn’t care enough to listen, but he hummed and nodded along like he was. He slowly ate his breakfast, staring down at his plate as she droned on about her work and the interesting tidbits she wanted to share.

When she grew quiet once more, Stan decided to look up at her. It was obvious she wanted to talk about something other than work, it was this look she always got. He looked away from her again, trying to avoid her watchful eye. She took a moment to sip at her coffee and hummed quietly. A long moment passed between them and she finally began to speak again. “Stan… I want to talk to you about something.” And there it was…

Stan shifted in his seat and gave a small sigh. “About what?”

She hummed quietly again, taking a moment as though she was trying to figure out how to word her question. “I was just wondering… is there… maybe, I don’t know, something you want to tell me?”

Stan looked up at his mom, confused. “What?”

She shrugged with a nonchalant look. “You know you can be honest with me. I won’t get mad at you, you know. I think it’s completely normal.”

Guilt began to bubble up in his chest and he looked down at his food again to avoid making eye contact with her. “I…" He stabbed at his eggs. "I have some Jameson in my room… I had some this morning.”

His mom was quiet for a long time and Stan was sure she was coming up with a way to punish him. She finally moved and walked over to him before brushing his hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That’s okay. Thank you for telling me. And I just want you to know that I’ll love you no matter what, Stanley.”

He was surprised, but he didn’t show it. “I… I know, Mom. I love you too.”

She patted his cheek with a warm smile and planted another kiss on the top of his head. She paused and played with his hair for a moment. “You… washed your hair?”

Stan ran his head through his hair at the mention of it. “Yeah.”

“For… the meteor shower… with your friend.”

He nodded, confused on why she was mentioning it again. “Yeah. I told you, it was all Bebe’s idea.”

His mom nodded, but something in her eyes told him that she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I see.” She moves to grab her empty plate and mug to bring to the sink. She hums quietly, obviously in thought. “Oh, yeah. Kyle called earlier. He told me to tell you that he’s at the basketball court in the park.”

Stan furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the clock in the kitchen. “Ah, shit!”

“Language!”

Stan fumbled out of his seat and out of the kitchen. He was late! He didn’t even check the time when he got up. He made his way up the stairs as fast as he could and into his room. He grabbed his phone and, sure enough, saw five missed calls from his best friend. He rushed to change out of his pajamas, throwing on whatever he could find that he thought were clean before practically running out of his room.

It wasn’t long before he returned, heading straight to the dresser and pulling the bottom drawer open once again. He took another few large swigs, just enough to feel buzzed enough to be able to withstand the disappointed look Kyle undoubtedly was going to give him. He shoved the bottle back into the drawer and fumbled out of his room once again and down the stairs.

When he reached the front door, he grabbed his keys, struggling to take off his car keys to leave them behind for his mom - a condition she gave him if he was going to drink. He called out a salutation to his mom before leaving the house. He rushed towards the park as fast as he could without slipping or falling and within a matter of minutes he saw the basketball court with a solitary red-head.

When Kyle saw him, his eyes slightly narrowed, but he continued to dribble the ball. “You’re late.” He called out to him as he got closer.

He raised his hand in apology. “Yeah, I’m sorry, dude.”

Kyle was quiet for a moment, but then passed the ball over to him, in which he admittedly fumbled with as it reached him. “It’s fine, just hope you’re up to try to beat me. I need a challenge.”

Kyle was most definitely not going to be challenged by Stan’s skills, but that didn’t stop him from trying. They played a few rounds, Stan stumbling around compared to Kyle’s calculated movements. Not sure how exactly to bring up his issue while they played, he decided to talk about something else until he could figure it out. “So… how’s everything going? With the dare, I mean.” He asked when Kyle scored another point.

Kyle scoffed as he caught the ball. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Stan hummed and caught the ball as it was passed over to him. “Okay…” Unbothered, he dribbled the ball and tried to keep it away from Kyle, which was practically impossible.

Kyle scored another basket and sighed as he caught the ball again. “Everything he has us doing is bullshit!” And there it was. “I don’t even know why we’re doing it. His ‘punishments’ aren’t even that bad. It's not even like sending Ike to Canada is horrible, he’s been mentioning going after he graduates. But who knows where Cartman is going to have him? And my parents would kill me if I'm the reason he got sent off out of the blue.”

“And the college thing,” Stan added.

Kyle huffs and tosses the ball to him again. “Yeah, that too. But I can deal with four months.”

“But can your parents?”

His eyes narrowed at him and Stan decided to try to keep his mouth shut for the time being. They continued to play in silence, which was not what Stan wanted to go for, but he was nervous. It showed in how he played, not that he was much good in the first place, but at least he was manageable without his sweaty palms and jerky reactions.

When Stan was finally able to steal the ball from Kyle long enough, he took a shot. He wobbled a bit and missed the net by a considerable amount. "Ah, shit. Sorry, dude, I had a drink before coming." The excuse was immediate. He didn’t want Kyle to think anything else was wrong with him.

Kyle didn't respond to that, though. Instead, he picked up the ball and tossed it back toward him. So, Stan tried shooting again, but this time he hit the rim of the basket. Kyle was quick to catch the ball, but he didn't try sending the ball back to Stan’s outstretched hands. "I'm going to get a few drills in." Kyle didn't want to play with him anymore. He usually used his 'drills' as an excuse to stop watching Stan being bad at the sport.

So, Stan gave him a silent nod and stepped back to give Kyle some room while he watched him.

Kyle was lean… tall… fiery in a spirited way. His curls were kept short, but still noticeable from under his hat and his skin was on the paler side. He had a sharp, masculine look about him, something Stan was always a little jealous of.

When Stan realized his gaze was slowly moving down his body as he considered his thoughts, he snapped himself out of it and refocused on the ball instead, his cheeks growing warm.

That was it. Maybe he could pretend to ignore the problem if it had just stayed Butters or Kenny. But imagining Kyle! He had to get to the bottom of this fast. But how? What was he supposed to do? He’s never talked to Kyle about his sexuality, and vice-versa. It was just something… they’d never considered talking about. Not that it mattered.

"Hey… you alright, dude?"

Stan refocused on Kyle and saw that he had moved to stand in front of him, holding the ball out and waiting for him. “Y-yeah…" He cleared his throat so his voice could stop shaking. "Just zoned out, my bad." Kyle indicated the ball once again and Stan shook his head. “Nah, man. I don’t think I’m a good match for you. But keep doing your thing.”

Kyle shrugged in response and dribbled the ball to a spot along the line, setting up a shot.

Well, it was now or never. He cleared his throat to try to get Kyle’s attention and hesitated before speaking. “Dude?”

Kyle, still focused on dribbling the ball in his spot to get a good shot, didn’t look at Stan when he responded, “Yeah?”

Stan’s words were caught in his throat and he felt like throwing up. His mouth floundered as he tried to force the words out. Anything, anything to get the ball rolling. “Have…” He swallowed. “Have you ever… I don’t know… wantedtokissaguybefore?” He rushed out.

When Stan had finished his question, Kyle had turned to look at him, eyes wide, just as the ball had left his hand. Everything happened so fast, Stan almost didn't understand how it happened - the ball had hit the corner of the backboard and had shot back to hit Kyle square in the face.

Kyle keeled over, his hands covering his nose.

"Holy shit, dude!" Stan ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders to try to get a better look at the damage. "Fuck, man, you're bleeding!"

"What do you mean?"

"Huh? Your nose, dude."

Kyle’s eyebrows furrowed. "Why would I want to kiss another guy?"

Stan couldn't believe it. Kyle was seriously backtracking the conversation as if a fountain of blood wasn't spilling from his nose. "I don't know! Like how you kissed Craig."

Kyle blanched. "No! Why would you think that?!"

"I-"

"That's gross! I would never do that!" The color in Kyle’s face began to return at a rapid pace, now surpassing its original color. "Especially with Craig!" And you technically already did.

"I-it doesn't have to be- I didn’t mean just Craig."

"What?” He scoffed. “You think I would kiss you?”

Stan felt a harsh pang in his chest at this. “N-no, not…” He let go of Kyle, not understanding why Kyle was being mean about this and why his chest was beginning to hurt. "I just wanted-"

"Wanted what?

I just wanted to know if what I'm feeling is normal.

Instead, what came out was, “Kyle… You’re being a douchebag.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because the look he got from him was scalding. He gave a sound of surprise as Kyle pushed him off and stood. "This is all your fucking fault!”

Stan felt hurt and confused, looking up at his best friend as he seethed with anger. “What-?”

“‘Let’s go to the party, Kyle!’ ‘You need to relax, Kyle!’ ‘It’s just going to be a little party, nothing bad is gonna happen. Take the stick out of your ass Kyle!’ If you didn’t fucking force me to go to that party, I wouldn’t have Cartman up my ass anymore than he already is and dealing with Craig’s bullshit! But, no, you wanted to go to the party for Wendy!”

“That’s not-”

"Look at where that got us! You're so fucking pathetic and desperate for Wendy’s attention that we have to do some bullshit game to entertain Cartman. Why is it always the same damn thing with you?”

Stan swallowed, his eyes wide as he looked up at the redhead. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

“Yeah, yeah, I am! Because you have been the same ever since I fucking met you. Always so self-centered and pessimistic. It’s no wonder Wendy keeps breaking up with you, you’re so fucking tiring. I wouldn’t want to deal with you either.”

That was a low blow. He pushed himself up and took a step closer, but was still wary of getting too into Kyle’s space. "I really am trying, Kyle."

"Trying what? Nothing has changed. It's always the same damn thing with you! You always make everything about yourself!"

"Like you're any better?" Was Stan’s response and he was suddenly shoved to the ground by Kyle, making him give a loud ‘oof.’

"You better shut the fuck up! I don't give a shit if you're supposed to be my friend, I will still fuck you up if you keep testing me."

“You’re being a shitty friend,” was Stan’s weak attempt at any sort of comeback.

Kyle let out a mocking laugh. "News Flash, Stan: You're just as shitty of a friend! You always think of yourself and fuck how everybody else feels, right?" Stan began to blink rapidly as he felt his eyes begin to sting. "Until you fix whatever the fuck is wrong with you, don't talk to me. I'm done with all of your bullshit." Kyle stomped over to the ball and picked it up as he wiped his nose, staining his sweater. He didn't spare another glance towards Stan as he trudged out of the park.

Stan continued to stare at where his best friend was just a few seconds ago… or could he really call him that anymore? Kyle was right after all. Stan was so desperate to keep the bond between the two of them that he refused to see that it was fraying the entire time during these past years.

He pushed himself up from the ground, stumbling for a moment. He wanted to go home. He should've just listened to himself and canceled again. Maybe, this wouldn't have happened… He could feel tears blurring in his eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away. He didn’t want to cry. Not now, especially not now when there was a chance for Kyle to still see him. He didn’t want him to know that he had completely crushed him. He didn’t bother cleaning himself off as he finally moved to exit the park.

Pathetic… Desperate… That’s what Kyle had called him. He wondered if other people saw him that way, he wondered if Wendy did. If Kyle was right… He must be… it was almost rare for him to be both passionate and wrong. Hey, but at least he can thank Kyle for one thing - He definitely wasn't thinking about Butters anymore.

Stan didn’t even realize when he got home, so lost in his thoughts. He took a breath and tried being quiet as he entered his house, but nothing really went past his mom.

"Stan?" Her head poked out from the kitchen. "You're already back?"

He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah."

She paused before taking a step out towards him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He was quick to say. "I'm just-" He choked back a sob and rushed towards the stairs. "I'm just tired. I'm gonna go lay down."

"Oh, Stanley-"

But he didn’t want to hear it. He took two steps at a time to reach his room as quickly as he could. He didn’t want her to worry and dote over him. He didn’t want her to hug him. And he definitely didn't want to cry in front of her.

When he reached his room he immediately holed himself inside, locking the door to make sure he was left alone, falling to his knees next to his dresser and pulling the drawer open. He didn’t bother being careful when digging through it, just wanting to be quick. He pulled out the bottle of Jameson again, this time finishing off the bottle. The burning warmth only distracted him for a moment, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

With a shuddery sigh, he pushed himself to stand and went over to his bed without bothering to change. He crawled under his covers once again, letting its warmth and darkness envelop him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and put his pillow over his head, trying to induce drowsiness once more. He wanted to get away so badly. Go to sleep and just forget about everything, even just for a moment.

Because nothing bad ever happens when you're sleeping.

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luna-themoonie · 1 year

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Chapter Seven

A Raven and a Bat to See the Light in One Another

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What was the dare?:

Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.

~~~

Butters woke up the next morning to a banging on his door. He was startled for a moment but he immediately knew who it was and why they were waking him so forcefully. He forced himself up from his bed as fast as he could and moved to open his bedroom door to reveal his ill-tempered father. “Good mornin’, dad.”

"You already know how this goes, Butters." He held out a piece of paper, which he took before his father could get mad again. "Your mother has already gone off to work and I have… some business to attend to. I expect everything to be done by the time we get back. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." He knew that his father's ‘business’ was just an excuse to go fulfill his homoerotic fantasies while his mother was distracted. He would be gone for hours, leaving Butters to do all the work, but that wasn't unusual for him.

"Good." He turned on his heel without saying anything else. Or anything to him at least because he was muttering under his breath about how unlucky he was to have a son like him. Butters was used to it at this point, but that didn't make the words sting any less.

Butters sighed as he scanned through the list, knowing that it was going to be a long day ahead. His father had handed him a list of rooms, though he might as well just have told him to clean the entire house. Well, if he gets started now, he can just spend the rest of his day wallowing in his room. He was quick to change out of his pajamas and into some comfortable clothes, not that he had much.

He decided to start in the kitchen, washing the dishes and wiping down the counters. He didn’t mind doing these things, but when he reached the pantry, he remembered his hatred for it. Alphabetizing the pantry was so tedious, especially when he knew his father would purposely put things back in the wrong place and blame it on him in the end.

This had taken most of his time, looking through each letter. When he had finished with the ‘N’s, he heard his cell phone begin to vibrate and ring. It was the scheduled phone call from one of his parents. On the hour, every hour, until one of them came home. His mom more likely, his father would always call the home phone.

He pulled out his phone, sighing before picking up. “Hi, mom!”

“Oh, hello, Butters.” She always sounded bored when doing these calls. Maybe she hated doing them as much as he did. “Do you have the list your father made?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, what are you doing?”

“I’m finishing up the kitchen right now.”

“Okay, well you make sure you finish up before me and your father get home.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” As soon as he had replied, she hung up. He scoffed and placed his phone back into his pocket. Both of his parents always acted as if he wasn’t grounded every other day and he somehow forgot what he was supposed to do.

He finished up the pantry before finishing off the rest of the kitchen and moving on to the living room. He was quick to pick up the scattered magazines and books and arrange the sofa cushions. The vacuuming took a bit of time, but overall still wasn’t as time-consuming as the kitchen was.

It wasn't long until he finished the first floor, but he was already too exhausted to do anything else. He was just so tired of seemingly always spend every moment of his days cleaning. Before heading upstairs to finish off his list, he decided to eat a quick snack so he wouldn’t run hungry.

The bathroom, the hallway, and his room were left.

Deciding to go in that order, he trudged his way upstairs. He was almost done. Soon he wouldn’t have to worry and enjoy his day off until his parents came back. He sighed as he reached the bathroom; He hated doing the bathroom. It was always the worst part of his cleaning duties. He dreaded having to scrub the toilet bowl and clean the shower tiles. But he knew he had to get it done, so he took a deep breath and got to work.

He moved towards the counter to start cleaning it off but when he began to do that, he noticed something that made his heart begin to beat faster.

His mother's makeup.

She usually locked it away in her room after she finished using it but she must have been in a rush today. He felt his skin begin to crawl - that's usually how it started. He had to force the thoughts away for his own sanity for so long. Or at least for the last few months he hasn't allowed himself what he desired. But… his parents weren’t home… and it’s not like it was his fault his mom made this mistake. He shook his head to try to get rid of the thoughts. Oh, but he shouldn’t. He picked up the bag to move it, trying to avoid looking at it for too long. Oh… but who’s going to stop him? His parents were out, and his day was just beginning.

Giddy energy flowed through his veins as he placed the bag down and began to dig through the makeup bag. It wasn’t much for a full look. mostly stuff for eyes; mascara and eyeliners. His mother wasn’t one for eyeshadows. He pulled out what he needed and leaned closer to the mirror and got to work.

Primer was first, he coated his eyes with the substance, careful not to overdo it. He then began to outline his eyes, focusing on the outer corner. Then he did the lower lash line and connected the line before filling it in. Next, he pulled out the mascara and brushed his lashes, focusing on volumizing the corner.

He stepped back and admired his work, checking his eyes to make sure they were even. It was his favorite look to do - the puppy eyeliner. But as he stood there, admiring his reflection, a wave of guilt washed over him. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. His parents would be furious if they found out. But he couldn't help it. He loved the way the makeup made him feel. The way it seemed to transform him into someone else entirely.

He shook his head, trying to push the guilt aside. Instead, he took in a breath to replace it with confidence. His parents weren’t home, he had the free will to do anything. Well, to an extent at least. Though… how are they going to know if he still got his chores done?

Throwing all caution to the wind, he decided to do what he wanted. He can play any of his video games on his computer. He can play his 'devil's' music as loud as he wants. He can be who he wanted to be. He can even go out, though this was riskier. But… just as long as he was back and all his chores were done, his parents never knew. Butters thought for a moment to get himself mentally ready to break the rules. He’s done it many times before, but it never settled his anxiety any less.

Feeling a new sense of resolution, he began to put away his mother’s makeup before leaving the bathroom. Opening the door to his parents’ room, he slipped inside, stepping lightly as if any noise would cause them to run back home and catch him. He reached the dresser where his mother would keep a box to store her makeup away from his reach. He tried to open it to put the bag in there, but it was locked. Instead, he carefully placed the makeup bag next to the box, hoping his mother would think that she had accidentally left it there in the first place.

As he moved to leave the room, he froze when he saw the door to their closet open. The devil on his and the angel on his shoulder began to whisper from his shoulders.

He could fit into his mother’s clothes. The devil hissed.

He can feel more attuned to who he is. And the angel coaxed.

He began to rub his fists nervously as he stepped closer. Well, he did need a 'disguise' if he was going out. He tried convincing himself. He looked around the room, scared to see if his parents would suddenly appear. His heart was pounding hard by the time he reached their closet. With a shaky hand, he pulled open the door to reveal the rest of the clothing inside. Butters' eyes widened slightly as he saw the array of different clothes that were hung up inside. Dresses, blouses, skirts, and even a few pairs of heels were on display. He gulped nervously, hesitating for a moment before making his decision.

Butters slowly reached out to touch the different fabrics, feeling the softness between his fingers. He couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of guilt, but the thrill of doing something he wasn't supposed to was too much to resist. He pulled out one of his mom’s skirts, one of her signature purple ones. It was easier to hide when his mother did the laundry. He began to undress himself before slipping the skirt over his hips. It was a little tight on him, even when he tried to lift it to his waist, but he didn’t want to try to loosen it and tear it by accident.

He looked back in the closet to see what else he could use to add to his outfit. He began to chew on his bottom lip as he tried to look as fast as he could. His time would run out soon. He ducked and leaned back to widen his view and that’s when he saw a box on the top shelf. He squinted and leaned closer to see what it was. He saw that it was a shoe box, the little picture of what it held inside showing him that they were low-heeled boots. It might be the pair his mother had ordered in the wrong size. She must’ve forgotten to return it.

He reached up to grab the box to get a closer look at them, but some sort of bag tumbled off and landed in front of him. He leaned down to pick it up but froze for a moment when he realized what it was.

Looks like the universe was finally on his side today. He picked up the bag and opened it. It was a blonde wig. He remembered his mother complaining about how her hair was beginning to thin. She must’ve ordered the wig to hide that. Feeling another wave of giddiness run through his body, he pulled it out, feeling the softness of it. Oh, how he missed this feeling. After taking a moment, he placed it off to the side for now and decided to check out the shoes. He opened the box to reveal the black booties that were stored away. He sat on their bed and pulled them on to see how they fit. He twirled his ankle with a frown. They were a little too big, but they would have to do. He pulled on the other shoe before standing and walking back over to the closet. After looking through the closet once more, he figured he didn’t need a top from here, he could use one of his own. He quickly dug through the clothing and pulled out a black coat. Moving back over to the dresser, he opened his mother’s jewelry box and looked through his options before choosing a matching silver and black set. He made sure to grab the wig and his clothing before returning to his room to find a top.

He was buzzing with excitement. He placed everything on his bed before pulling out a white turtleneck from his drawer. He pulled it over his head, careful to avoid his eyes, and tucked it into the skirt before adding his accessories. Now it was time for the wig. He brushed his hair back and put it on, adjusting it as best as he could without looking at his reflection.

Nerves suddenly flooded through his veins. What if someone saw and recognized him? What if his parents came home early? All the thrill and excitement he felt before suddenly vanished, replaced by a sense of panic and anxiety. But he couldn't back out now, he had already gone too far. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to calm himself. When he opened them, he was once again determined to go through with it. He grabbed his phone, headphones, wallet, and home key before slipping out of his room and into the hallway. Steeling himself, he made his way toward the bathroom. He took another breath and turned on the light, stepping in front of the mirror.

And there she was. Marjorine - the name he took when he dressed this way or felt particularly more feminine.

It was like she was looking at a completely new person, though she knew that wasn’t the case.

She began to fix her hair so it framed her face better, staring at herself. The wig wasn't exactly her taste, it was long and honey-colored, but she wasn't allowed to grow her hair out or buy her own at the moment.

She couldn't help but stare at herself as she adjusted the wig. This was the first time she had dressed up like this in months. It felt like she was coming back to life after being stuck in a drab existence for so long. She felt the thrill of the forbidden course through her once again, energizing her like nothing else. She couldn't wait to feel the rush of adrenaline that came with going out in public like this again.

She felt her eyes sting and she took a breath to stop herself from becoming emotional to prevent her makeup from being ruined. She was so happy to dress like this again even if it wasn't her usual style. She posed, blowing a kiss at her reflection before laughing at how ridiculous she was being.

She really loved this part of herself, though she had to hide it away ever since her mom had found the clothes she kept for these times. She remembered it like it was yesterday. She had received the lashing of a lifetime that day. Her mother was snooping around in her room and found the clothes she had hidden away, apparently not good enough. So, of course, she had put two and two together and told his father, which made him livid. Her father yelling at her was engraved into her brain.‘You’re not a girl! Boys don’t dress like girls!’ But she was a girl, just as much as she was a boy. Even if her parents tore up and threw away all her belongings, it didn’t change that fact. Now she was given sets of specific clothing, ones that her parents chose for her. All of them pointedly masculine, and only masculine. Nothing she owned was by her own choice.

Though they may have taken away what little she had to express herself, she knew that one day she would finally be able to get out of this nightmare of a town and nobody will be able to stop her. She refused to let her parents' narrow-mindedness bring her down.

She took a step back from the mirror, smoothing out the clothes and adjusting her poses to admire her outfit. She couldn’t help but feel proud of the person she saw in the reflection. She was brave enough to be who she truly was, even if she had to do it in secret. She knew it wasn't fair that she had to hide this part of herself, but for now, it was the only way she could be true to herself without facing the wrath of her parents.

As she was spinning around to let the skirt move to add to her confidence, the phone began to ring from downstairs. She felt her blood run cold as she froze. Her father was calling. Clutching her belongings to her chest, she left the bathroom and rushed to the phone downstairs.

She cleared her throat and picked up, trying her best to not sound nervous. "Stotch Residence."

"Butters! You're working on your list?'

"Yes, sir, I am. I’m workin’ on the bathroom right now."

"Good good. You better not be lying and goofing off. I will be checking everything, you remember that."

"Yes, sir, I know. I'm not goofin' off."

"Good, you go hurry and finish up now."

"Okay, bye, dad." Her father hung up without responding.

Now, it was time. She only had approximately two hours and counting until she needed to be back home. Her time was limited and she needed to leave now. She rushed to grab her belongings and moved quickly. She made it to the front door and paused, checking her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. The wig looked good and the makeup was still intact. She gave herself an encouraging smile before opening the door and stepping outside. The cool air hit her face, and she took a deep breath to really take it all in before starting her way down the sidewalk, knowing exactly where she wanted to go.

As she walked down the street, she felt a sense of freedom that she hadn't felt in a long time. The wind felt good against her skin, and the music in her ears drowned out all her worries. It was as if she was living in a different world, a world where she didn't have to worry about her parents and their constant rules. She couldn't help but feel a sense of rebellion wash over her. She had always tried to be the perfect child, doing everything her parents asked of her, but now she was finally doing something for herself. Something that made her feel alive.

She smiled shyly at the people she passed, walking with a purpose. She just needed to be in and out and her parents would never know. She kept reminding herself. She couldn’t let herself get too carried away.

Finally, she arrived at her destination: Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door as she took out her headphones, the little bell announcing her arrival. The store was quiet, with only a few other customers seated at the cafe. She felt a sense of relief wash over her as she realized she wouldn't be drawing too much attention to herself as she waited in line. It wasn’t like she didn’t want people to know, it was just too reckless to have too many people knowing this about her.

Only a few close people knew this about her. Kenny, Nichole, Wendy, and-

“Marjorine?”

She felt her stomach drop as she turned to see Heidi who let out a small gasp as she got closer. "Oh, it is you! How are you?" Heidi opened her arms for a hug and Marjorine returned it. “I thought you were going back to Texas,” She said as she took in her appearance. “I love this look, by the way.”

Marjorine looked down at what she was wearing, smiling. "Aw, thank you. I'm doing swell!" She tried thinking of something quick. "We decided to come back and stay a little longer. My classes are online anyways so I figured it wouldn’t hurt."

Heidi clasped her hands together. "Really? For how long? Maybe you can stay at my place."

"Oh, I-I'm not too sure. My mom likes to travel a lot, y'know. Maybe a week, maybe a month." She shrugged, hoping it was a good enough excuse to avoid suspicion.

Somebody scoffed from behind them. “Can you two hurry up?”

Heidi’s face dropped, now void of any emotion, as she turned to the man that stood with his arms crossed, dressed in a black suit. “We aren’t done.”

“Oh, I haven’t decided what I want yet,” Marjorine added.

“And she hasn't decided what she wanted.” She rolled her eyes. “We aren’t even in line! What are you waiting for?” She turned back to her and smiled, acting as though nothing happened. “Why don’t we spend the day together?”

The man behind them muttered under his breath angrily but walked around them.

"I'm sorry, Heidi, I'm in a bit of a rush."

“Oh, come on. We can catch up with each other! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’ll even pay for your drink.”

She looked at the clock hung on the wall. She had about forty-five minutes until her mother would call. "Oh, just for a little bit then."

Heidi beamed with excitement and locked her arms with hers. “Oh, goodie! I can’t wait to catch up with you. There was so much going on the last time I saw you.”

“Right,” she let out a small laugh. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

“I know! I’ve never seen you that drunk before. You were wild!” Heidi gripped her arm with radiating excitement. “We should do it again!”

Marjorine waved the suggestion off. “Nah, I shouldn’t. I might’ve gone a little overboard. I-I should watch myself.”

“Oh, alright,” she said with a pout. “But if you ever want to do it again, you can always call me. I can set everything up with the girls.”

“Of course, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

The man in front of them moved and they stepped forward together, now face-to-face with a familiar twitching teen. Even more so than he usually was. He yelped when he made eye contact with the two of them. “Gah! W-welcome to Tweek Bros.… what can I get started for you?”

“Hi, Tweek. I’ll have a vanilla latte with oat milk, small,” Heidi started.

Tweek nodded, hand shaking as he typed in her order. "And for you?" He asked, looking up at her.

"Oh, um, I'll get a small mocha cappuccino, please."

“Oh…kay.” Tweek’s eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted as he watched her, eyes wide.

Feeling her stomach flutter with nerves, she turned away from him. “I’m gonna go find us a seat," she told Heidi, who nodded and let her arm go.

She took a quick glance around the shop before deciding on a small table in the corner of the shop. She pulled off her coat and set it on the back of her chair before sitting down. Immediately, she went to the comfort of rubbing her knuckles as she waited, anxious. She was supposed to stay for only a moment. She had to be extra careful with her time now. Oh, bad Marjorine!

After a few long minutes of self-chastising, Heidi came to the table with both of their drinks. "You have to tell me everything. What's been going on with you?"

Marjorine fidgeted in her seat, feeling a sense of guilt for not being able to tell Heidi the truth. "Well, uh, not much, just tryin' to keep up with school and stuff at home," She told her before taking a sip of her drink, savoring the chocolatey taste.

Heidi leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And what about boys? Have you met anyone special yet?"

Marjorine felt her face heat up at the question. "N-no, not really," she stammered out.

Heidi tilted her head with a knowing smirk, her eyebrows raised. "Are you sure? You seem a little pink."

This made her cheeks and ears grow warmer, which made Heidi giggle.

She couldn't bring herself to tell Heidi the truth, so she decided to… embellish it a bit. "Well," she cleared her throat. "There is this one boy…"

Heidi gasped before she could continue. “Is he cute?”

Marjorine brought her hand up to try to cover her continuously darkening face. “V-very.”

Heidi leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do tell."

Marjorine took another sip of her drink, gathering her thoughts. “He's in one of my classes and we've been talking a lot lately. He's really funny and kind and… cute." She felt herself blush even harder as she spoke.

Heidi’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. "Wow, that’s really nice! What’s his name?"

"Um, his name is...Steven," she said, coming up with a name on the spot, though almost giving it away.

Heidi squealed with delight, clapping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! Have you gone on a date yet?"

“Um… Not yet,” she decided to avoid revealing anything close to the truth, “but we’ve been talking about it.”

She nodded, taking a sip of her own drink. "Well, you have to introduce me to him sometime if all goes well!"

Marjorine chuckled, feeling a little more at ease. "I will, I promise."

Heidi let out a small sigh. “I’m so happy for you, Marjorine. You deserve someone who will treat you right.”

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment before Marjorine decided to speak. "So," she paused as she took another sip of her coffee. "Anythin' new with you? Any boys?" She asked in a teasing tone to get back at her.

"Oh… well… not with me, I guess."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Heidi sighed as she traced her finger on her cup. She stayed quiet for a moment longer before saying quietly, "One of my friends started dating the boy that I like."

Marjorine's heart sank as she listened to the confession. She could only imagine the hurt and disappointment her friend was feeling. "I'm so sorry, Heidi. That must be really hard for you."

Heidi gave her a sad smile. "It's okay. I mean, I don't own him or anything. It just sucks, you know?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But there are plenty of other guys out there. You'll find someone even better."

She shrugged. "Maybe. But right now, I just feel like I'll never find someone I like as much as him."

Marjorine reached over and placed a comforting hand over hers. "You will, I promise. And maybe you should drop your friend. What they did goes against girls' code."

"Oh, no, he didn't know."

He?

"I'm… happy for him. I really am, but it still hurts. I mean, I thought we would hit it off if we tried. You remember Stan, right?" Marjorine felt her stomach turn into lead as she forced a smile and nodded. "We sit next to each other in Life Science. I'd like to think that we get along really well. And we even have some things in common! Did you know he's a vegetarian? I'm a vegan, which is different, but even then, if we were to get together, we could work on each other's food preferences. And he’s a dog person like me! Have you met his dog yet? He’s such a cutie!" Heidi rambled on, her eyes distant as she spoke of the boy she liked. “It’s not just that, though. He can be really sweet and kind and funny… and I feel like Wendy just took him for granted sometimes, you know?"

Marjorine took another sip of her coffee so she wouldn't have to respond. She knew exactly who she was talking about and it was going to be hard to play dumb.

"Maybe that's why they broke up. I never really pegged him for someone who's into guys." She shrugged. "I wouldn't care though. He's an absolute dream." She finished with a blissful sigh.

Marjorine stared down at her cup, trying to find something, anything to say in response to this. She went back to tracing her knuckles. It was like a bad case of deja vu. “Well…” She chose her words carefully. “I'm sure Stan’s not as perfect as you’re making him out to be.”

Heidi was quiet for a moment. “Well… yeah, I know that. But there’s nothing wrong with that.” Marjorine looked up and locked eyes with her. Her face was hardened. “Just as long as I think he is, I don’t think that matters.”

Marjorine felt a warmth run through her body and she gave her a small smile. “Right. I-I’m sorry.” She took another sip and tried biting back other comments she had. “There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Marjorine knew the feeling she currently felt very well. It was jealousy. She was jealous to know that she wasn’t the only one that had been pining over the ravenette. She was even more jealous to know that Heidi was right. She was sure that if Stan had to choose between herself and the girl sitting across from her, he would choose Heidi. She was really pretty after all. They did have a lot of things in common and a relationship between them would probably work out… And knowing this only hurt her.

She knew she had no right to be so… possessive over Stan. But it wasn’t fair that she still felt like had to compete with someone else, just to most likely lose in the end. And with the chance she had right now with this dare, she wanted to be as close to him as she could before it was all over.

Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket with the jingle she had set it to. She jumped in her seat and pulled it out, seeing her mother’s contact photo. “Oh! Um, I-I have to take this,” she quickly told Heidi before leaving the table and running to the bathroom.

She locked herself into the single bathroom and picked up. “Hello?” Her voice was higher than usual due to nerves.

“Hello, Butters. How’s everything going with your chores?”

“Good,” she cleared her throat and began to pace the small room, “it’s going good, ma’am. I’m going through the list just like dad told me to.”

“Alright, then. I should be-”

A loud flush resounded and Marjorine froze. She had walked a little too close to the toilet and it automatically went off.

“What was that?”

“Oh, uh, th-that was- I’m trying to finish the bathroom.”

“Well, Butters, I’m talking to you right now. That’s a bit rude!”

“I’m sorry, mom.”

“Ma’am!”

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am,” she quickly corrected.

She huffed in annoyance but continued on. “I should be done early today. Remember, Butters, if you’re not finished with that list, you’ll be grounded up until next week.” She said before hanging up.

Marjorine’s breath quickened as nerves ran through her body. She needed to leave. Now! She fumbled with the door before pulling it open and leaving the bathroom. She tried not to draw attention to herself as she rushed over to the table she was previously seated at.

Heidi noticed her panic. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She pulled on her coat and began to button it up. “I’m sorry, Heidi. I-I have to go. My mom wants me back.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.”

She pulled out her wallet to pull out what little cash she had from her weekly allowances. Well, weekly as long as she behaved. “Here. For my drink.”

She waved it away. “It’s fine. Just make sure you text me more often, yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. See you, Heidi.”

“See you.”

She gave her a small hug before rushing out of the coffee shop. As Marjorine stepped out into the chilly autumn air, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. She walked as fast as she could without slipping on the sidewalk. She wasn’t far. She could make it home and take everything off just in case.

She passed by the variety of buildings on the main street, trying to focus only on getting home. She tried to ignore the people around her, but as she passed by the hand-down retail store, she froze when she heard a wolf whistle. "Damn, little girly, you come around here often? How about we head back to my place and have some fun?”

She turned to the voice, ready to snap at them for being so vulgar, but stopped and rolled her eyes when it was a familiar blonde clad in his work uniform. "Ken, don't do that!"

Kenny laughed. "How're you doing, darlin'?"

“I’m fine,” She replied stiffly.

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound fine. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She turned and began to walk again. “I have to get home.”

She heard him begin to follow and she rolled her eyes. “I thought they took your clothes,” he said as he bumped her shoulder with his.

“They did take my clothes. These are my mom’s.”

“Oh.” She felt his hand wrap around her shoulder and she glanced at him for a moment before keeping her gaze steady forward. "Look, I wanted to talk to you."

Marjorine clenched her jaw. "I have to get back home,” She repeated.

“I don’t want us to fight anymore.”

“Well, that isn’t my fault. Now, is it?”

“You’re right. I just…” He went quiet.

"What are you doing over here anyway?"

"I was walking Karen to work. Then I was gonna hang around until my shift starts."

“Well, you’ve done that. Now leave me alone.”

“How could I leave such a beautiful thing to just walk past me like that?" He joked, giving her an exaggerated wink.

Marjorine gave him a skeptical look. He always did this; hiding behind jokes. She kept on walking, not allowing herself to give in to respond to him.

"Oh, c’mon! Not even a little smile?”

“No.”

“Just… talk to me.” He grabbed her arm to stop her from walking any further. “Please.”

“Oh, so you only want me to talk because you’re ready to?”

“No! Marjorine, please."

She paused, her face scrunching up as she pulled her arm away. She hated the warmth she felt from him saying her name - something that she should be used to by now. "What?"

She watched as Kenny fumbled over nonexistent words. "I, um, I just-" He let out a frustrated sigh. He stopped and just looked up at her, staying silent. His ocean-blue eyes wavering as time passed slowly.

Refusing to read his apology through his eyes, she scoffed and turned to leave. "I don't have time for this, Ken! I have to get home before-" She slipped on a patch of ice, making her yelp as she fell backwards.

Luckily, Kenny was able to catch her just in time before she hit the ground and ruined her clothes. "Careful, don't need you falling for me again," he said with a light chuckle as he carefully pulled her up.

But Marjorine didn't find it amusing. She felt her face grow warm as she tore herself away from him. "Will you stop it already!?" Kenny flinched. "You always do this, Ken! You make jokes and pretend that the problem disappears, but it doesn't!"

He sputtered as he put his hands up in defense. “I-I just worry.”

“And I can handle myself.”

“I know! I know you can!”

“Then why do you treat me like you don’t?”

Kenny didn’t reply. He looked down at his feet instead.

This made Marjorine feel bad. Kenny was one of her closest friends and she didn't want to fight anymore. But, dear God, was he stubborn with his emotions.

“Kenny…” Marjorine sighed, trying to figure out the best way to say what she thought. “You don’t always have to be the hero, y’know.”

“I-I know, I just-”

“I don’t think you do.”

He was silent again. His eyes haven't left the ground.

Her face softened and she reached forward to tug his jacket to have him follow her as she continued her way back home. She kept her grip on his arm as he kept his gaze downward.

"It's a good thing, y'know. But everyone who you care about doesn't need you to hover around. Not me, not Karen…" She noticed his shoulders begin to droop. She was probably making him feel worse. She moved her hand to his shoulder. "Ken… I think you might have a savior complex."

He finally looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. "Savior complex? I don't have-"

"I'm not sayin' that it's a bad thing. It's great you want to help people. But sometimes that's all you do. I don't need you to be protectin' me all the time and you don't need to involve yourself in everythin'. It's gonna end up doin' you more harm than good." She noticed the corner of his mouth twitch. "Sometimes, other people aren't your priority. Okay, Ken?"

He nodded.

"If… if somethin' happens, I'll tell you. And you can help me all you want. But you gotta promise me to stop puttin' yourself in the middle."

Kenny’s mouth quirked up into a small smile. "Okay."

"Thank you." She was relieved.

She noticed Kenny begin to lean forward to press a kiss onto her cheek like he usually did, but she took a step back. His eyebrows twitched upward, but he didn't say anything.

"You can't do that anymore, Ken. What if Eric finds out?"

A frown etched onto his face. “It’s not like they’ll know.”

“Yeah, but you’re with Tweek.” The light in Kenny’s eyes dimmed when she said this. “And I’m supposed to be with Stan.”

“It’s not even real, Marji…”

Well, it's real to me.

It's what she wanted to say, but she knew it would've been bad. Both for her delusions and his feelings.

"I'm sorry, Ken."

He only shrugged. "It's fine."

Her house came into view, and luckily no cars were pulled into the driveway to warn her of her demise. She quickened her steps and reached the door. Marjorine unlocked the door and pushed it open, extending an arm. "Go on, but don't go makin' a mess. I need to finish cleaning before my parents get home."

"Why'd they ground you this time anyways?" He asked as he walked past her.

"I came back home after my curfew," she answered as she closed the door. She quickly went up the stairs, Kenny following close behind, and grabbed the clothes she previously wore before she decided to go awol. "Me and Stan went to see the meteor shower together." She went into her parents’ room and began to remove everything that wasn’t hers.

Kenny leaned against the doorway as he watched her undress and hide away the clothes she took from her mother.

As she pulled off the turtleneck to replace it with her earlier t-shirt, Kenny cleared his throat. “Does he know?”

It took her a moment to figure out who he was talking about. "Of course he doesn't know."

He shifted in his place. "I think you should tell him." Marjorine furrowed her eyebrows and Kenny held up his arms in defense. "I just think he'd be there when you need him for times like these."

She gave a huff of annoyance as she carefully replaced everything back to where they originally were. "I'll be fine. It isn't something for you to decide anyways."

"I know… but I know how much it bothers you too."

She shook her head. "It would bother him."

“Stan isn’t like that, he won’t care."

"Right, the same way he doesn't care about 'dating' me?"

"If you won't let me indulge in my 'savior complex,' like you say I have." He used air quotes as he said this. "Then you should let Stan help you."

“Right, replace one with the other. You both are just as bad as the other."

Kenny laughed at this. "You don't have to do it. It's just a suggestion. But I do really think he would help, as dense as he is."

She fiddled with the earrings for a moment as she took them off. "But… he was real mad when I tried holding his hand and stuff."

He rolled his eyes. "He's an idiot, but he doesn't care. He only cares when it's himself."

"What if he doesn't understand?"

"You know how he is. Even if he doesn't understand, he'll still try to help. You're still his friend."

Right, just his friend. “Are you two gonna get along again?” Kenny pressed his lips together at this question. "You're really just mad at him on my behalf and you don't need to do all that."

"I’m not even really mad anymore. Just more… annoyed. He hasn't even apologized."

"Yes, he has." Kenny glanced at her. "He needed to be sorry to me, not you. Has he done anything to you to be sorry for?" He stayed quiet.

She moved passed him and into the bathroom. "Can you help me, Ken?" She heard him follow close behind as they both entered the small room. "I need to make sure there's no more makeup." She told him as she turned on the light and turned to the mirror.

She looked at herself for a long moment, trying to soak in the image of herself before it went away.

“Are you ready?”

She sighed and forced herself to look away as she took off the wig. "Yeah…" She moved to sit down on the toilet seat and waited as Kenny pulled out a makeup wipe from under the sink.

"Okay, darlin', close your eyes for me."

She did as he said and let him remove the makeup. Kenny was gentle with the wipe, not pressing too hard on her eye, but he went over it again and again.

"Look at me." She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he inspected her eyes. He would carefully wipe away any excess that remained. "There we are. All done."

All done… back to being seen as only 'Butters,' the kid they can use and push around. Back to hiding away a piece of himself. She felt her eyes well up with tears and she covered her face to hide it.

“Oh, don’t cry.”

“I hate it here.”

“I know.” She felt Kenny wrap his arms around her, pressing his lips to her temple.

"I want to leave."

He hushed soothingly and rubbed her back. "I know you do. You're so close. Only a few more months and we can leave. Wherever you want to, yeah?"

Marjorine only nodded, her sobs making her unable to speak anymore.

She continued to cry as Kenny tried to soothe her. Whispering reassurances and rubbing her back as he held her. Kenny was always so kind and understanding. He knew every little thing about her, including how to calm her down.

She felt so bad for ending things with him, but she knew she would've felt worse if she had continued their relationship when she knew her feelings had changed.

Marjorine couldn't help her thoughts from bursting out as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Ken. I-I didn't want to… my feelings…" She wiped at her face. "You deserve-" She couldn't finish her sentence as another sob racked through her.

Kenny leaned forward with a smile and this time she didn't move so he could place a kiss on her cheek. "I understand. I'll still love you," her heart sank, "whether you're my friend or my partner." He told her as he handed her a tissue.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she

"It's okay, Marji."

They stayed silent after that. Marjorine slowly starting to become calm and wiping the rest of her tears away.

Kenny gave her a final hug before taking a step back with a crooked smile. "You think you'll be alright?"

She nodded. "I can distract myself. I still have to finish cleaning."

"Do you want me to check on you after work?"

She shook her head.

"Okay… I'll talk to Stan… and I'll try not to butt in between you two if he does something stupid. Unless you tell me to, of course."

Marjorine pressed her lips together and nodded again.

"I should go before your parents get back. I have to get to work."

"Yeah."

He winked and backed out of the bathroom. "See ya, sweet cheeks."

She rolled her eyes at this with a smile. "See ya, Ken." She listened as he went down the stairs and left, the front door opening and closing.

She sat by herself in the bathroom, trying to urge herself to get up and finish cleaning. But she was just so stressed and in need of a break. Just a little break. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning against the toilet, letting the silence ease her mind.

Though, the silence didn't last long. The house phone began to ring and she opened her eyes, flinching at the bright lights of the bathroom. Her father was calling again. Her break didn't last as long as she wanted it to, but maybe that was for the best. She took a deep breath. She had to keep it hidden again, only for a little longer, like Kenny had said. She moved to go downstairs towards the ringing. She made sure the door was locked and moved to the phone. She picked it up, just on time. “Stotch Residence.”

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