-this december-

-chapter 5-

TW: fat phobia, bullying, curse words
November 29
No one POV

"i'm sorry Clyde, but this really is for the best." Bebe sighed. "I-" she hesitated, trying to find the right words. "You are an amazing person, and you don't deserve this. You don't deserve me. It's unfair to you for me to drag you along in this relationship when I don't feel that way for you. When I love someone else. You deserve someone who will give you their all and love you. I can't give that to you."

"I'm sorry."

-
Tolkien POV
My phone buzzed. Someone was calling me. Jesus Christ.

Of course, it's Clyde. I pick up.

"Clyde, what is it? I'm kinda busy right now."

There's a muffled sob from the other end.

"Wait, Clyde? Is everything ok?" I ask. Clyde does cry a lot, but it still worries me when he does. It's not really a bad thing, he's just a little sensitive.

"Uh- yea. y-yea everything's ok. Sorry for bothing you, T-Tolkien." There's a beep, telling me he's hung up. It's not like him to lie to me.

I'm going over.

-

I walk upClyde's house. Everything in South Park is very close together so I was able to walk here and make a stop at a taco place in less than 30 minutes. His dad must not be home, the car isn't in the driveway.

I dig around in my pockets for the key to his house. About 2 years ago, me, Clyde, Craig, Tweek, and Jimmy all gave each other copies of the keys do our houses in case of some kind of emergency. It comes in handy every so often but mostly we just use them to walk in whenever we want.

Unlocking the door, I poke my head in and call out. "Clyde?"

No answer.

"Clyde, I know you're in there! Come out!" I step in and shut the door, gripping the taco bag in my hand. I set it down on the coffee table.

"Dude, come down here. I'm worried." I yell again. A door opens and closes upstairs.

"Tolkien?" A red-eyed Clyde appears at the top of the stairs. "Y-you didn't have to come over."

"I know, but...I wanted to make sure you're ok." He sniffs and looks away.

"Well, I-I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. What happened?" He turns back to me.

"I-," His voice cracks.

"Hey, come on. You can talk to me." I take a step up the stairs.

"W-Well-," Clyde covers his face with his hands and begins to sob. I hurry up the stairs.

"B-Bebe, sh-she broke up with me!" he cries as I wrap my arms around him.

"Oh, dude. I'm so sorry, Jesus."

"She- she's in love with someone else!"

"That's not your fault," I tell him. "People- sometimes people don't love each other anymore, and it's ok. You're still a great person, dude."

"I-I know, but...it still hu-hurts," he clings on to me.

Clyde sniffs again, his sobs subduing.

"Hey, um. I brought you some tacos," I tell him. "If those might make you feel better."

"Tacos?" I nod. "Aw, d-dude. You didn't need to. W-where are they?"

I stifle a laugh. "On the coffee table, let's go," I tell him.

We walk downstairs. "I'll get you some water, you eat,"

"Ok, thanks mom," He jokes, opening the bag. I walk into his kitchen and grab a water glass, filling it up with water at the sink.

I hear something drop in the other room.

"Clyde? You ok?"

No response.

I walk back in the living room, water glass in my hand. Clyde's sitting on the couch, hands shaking. The tacos bag is open in front of him and his phone is sitting face up in his lap.

"Dude, what's going on?" I ask, walking over to him. I set the cup down of the coffee table.

"Bebe, sh-she posted about...about me."

"What?" I grab the phone from his lap and turn it to face me. A Coonstagram post. From Bebe's account.

Bebe.-the.-best.:

Clyde Donovan is a stupid, fat dickbag. He actually thought I loved him. And @mr.swagclyde, lay off the tacos, porky. you could stand to loose some weight.

that-bad-bitch:
@Bebe.-the.-best. you're so right. clyde is even fatter than cartman lol and stupider too

Bebe

that fucking bitch