I did it for me.

5

Stan wanders around the town of South Park aimlessly, wanting to find something to do. He wonders if he should just return to his seat at the bar. He decides to go and stumbles slowly through the town with broken streetlights, the cars driving past being his only light source.
‘They should really get that sorted.’ Stan mumbled to himself.
He slowly pushes open the creaky door to the bar he spent most of his time in. This place is his escape from everyone. His escape from the world, from his world. From Kyle. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot release his thoughts from the redheaded boy.
He squats down in his usual seat at the bar and orders a corona beer, Kyle's favourite drink. He sips it sadly, reminiscing over their time together once again. He thinks of how different they are now. Kyle was always there for him. He would look after Stan whenever he got too drunk at parties or got into fights. Kyle would help him with his homework, help him get through every breakup with Wendy, help him with his fear of kissing girls. Stan had a fear of kissing girls.
‘How did I not know!’ Stan mentally screams at himself as he bangs his head on the bar.
“You good, Stan?” The woman working the bar asks, her name tag reads ‘Trixie’.
“Line up some shots for me, Trix. I need to get hammered.” Stan replies with a grunt, taking his head off of the hard wooden countertop.
The brunette does as she is asked and lines up five shots of the hardest but cheapest liquor the bar stocks and Stan shoots them all back, loving the burning sensation overcoming his throat. It reminds him of the first time he drank.

He was mis-diagnosed with aspergers which he later found out to be depression. The whole world became a pile of shit to him. It started with his music, his only escape from the world. When nothing sounded the same as it used to, he panicked. Stan was never a fan of change. He discovered his fathers bottle of whiskey under the sofa and grew curious. His dad seemed to enjoy drinking this poison, he wanted to know what was so good that his father chose this over going to his basketball games.
He took the bottle and walked into the kitchen. He opened the bottle and the smell immediately started to burn his nostrils. He takes his plastic Terence and Phillip cup out of the bottom cupboard and poured a half cup of whiskey into the red and blue cup.
He smelled the drink again and took a big swig into his mouth as it travelled down his throat, burning it. He enjoyed it. He knew this would become a problem for him as soon as the feeling went to his head. Everything seemed normal again. Everything seemed okay. He actually enjoyed life right then. Until he woke up the next morning with the most painful splitting headache he’d ever experienced.

Stan laughs at the memory, allowing the alcohol to wash over him.
“Alright, big guy. You've had enough.” Trixie speaks to Stan but he just waves her dismissively.  Stan decides he wants to have a smoke but as soon as he lifts himself off of the seat, he falls back onto it. He laughs at himself excessively before trying to stand, slowly.
He manages to make his way to the door after bumping into multiple people. He got a few “Watch it, asshole!”s but he just laughs, apologies and steps out the door, sitting on a green metal bench outside the bar. Just sitting outside isn't good enough for him, he decides he needs a walk. He walks past the shops and the cinema and sits outside Tweeks Coffee Bros against the wall by the entrance. Stan lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it.
He sits there for a while, not thinking of anything. He stares at the floor completely in his own mind and slowly slumps his head forward practically falling asleep, his cigarette being forgotten and left to burn itself out. The door to the cafe opens and Stan quickly nods himself awake.
He feels someone grabbing him but the scruff of his neck and pulling him to stand up. He doesn’t think, his fight or flight kicks in as he launches his fist to the other person's face.
“Dude, What the fuck!” The taller man yells in a deep but monotone voice. Stan pushes the over six feet tall man backwards, the mystery man not fighting back.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Stan bellows to the raven-haired boy.
“Craig. Craig Tucker. What are you doing, Marsh? You stink like your dad. It’s not good for business.” Craig folds his arms. Stan just mumbles about how ‘nobody drinks coffee at night anyways’ as Craig drags Stan to his truck and throws him into it.
Craig jumps into the driver's side and starts up the truck. Stan recognises the route they are headed on immediately and begins to panic.
“Tucker, dude. I can't go there.” The anxiety is enough to sober Stan up as he sits up straight and looks craig in the face.
“Well you're not my problem, Randy.” Craig rolls his eyes and doesn't bother to look Stan into his now furious face.
“Fuck you, man. I am not my dad.” Stan looks out the window, dreading arriving where he was travelling to.
Craig stops the truck and points at the door on Stan's side of the vehicle. Stan shakes his head, refusing to exit the automobile. Craig sighs and opens his door, leaving Stan alone in the truck.
Craig knocks on the door of the mossy green house. The infamous Kyle Broflovski answers the door.
“Craig? What are you doing here?” The redhead questions.
“Your twat of a best friend was sitting outside my coffee house smelling like his dad on a tuesday.” Craig responds bluntly.
“He’s not my best friend, he's not my responsibility. This isn't high school. What do you want me to do about it?” Kyle is fuming.
“Best friend or not, he’s bad for business. Come get him out of my truck.”
Kyle just takes a deep breath and walks toward the vehicle, opening the right side. Stan falls out as he is resting against the door. Kyle just manages to catch him and hold him up on his feet. Craig nods a silent ‘thank you’ as he hops into his truck and drives off, not paying the ex-best friends anymore thought.
“Fucks sake, Stanley.” Kyle grunts as he pulls Stan into his parents house. Kyle pushes Stan onto the sofa as he walks to the bathroom to collect a cold rag for Stan's head as he feels a bit hot.
By the time Kyle returns, Stan is gone. Kyle walks into the kitchen to find him, helping himself to a beer.
“Absolutely not, dude.” Kyle takes the beverage out of Stan's hand. Stan lets out a whine and tries to grab it back but with Kyle being taller than him by a fair bit now, he is unsuccessful. Kyle guides Stan back into the living area and sits next to the blonde boy.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Stan? Why are you in such a state?” Kyle looks at Stan, disgusted and a bit concerned.
“I’m sorry, Kyle… I just… I don't know, dude.” Stan puts his head in his hands as a single tear slips from his faucets. Kyle doesn't say anything, he just places a comforting hand on Stan's shoulder.
“Kyle.”
“Yes, Stan?”
“I’m sorry.” Kyle takes his hand from Stan's shoulder and places it on the black rooted boy's leg instead.
“For what?” Kyle questions Stan. He genuinely doesn't understand the reason behind Stan's sudden apology.
“I know what it’s like now. And its torture. I'm sorry.” Stan repeats his apology now looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with the lanky framed person next to him.
“Know what what's like…? Stan, I'm confused.”
“I haven't stopped thinking about you. At all. I tried. I went out with Wendy.”
“Wendy?” Kyle cuts Stan off.
“Yes, Wendy. And she looks great, Kyle. She's tall, she cut her hair, she carries herself with such confidence-”
“Why are you telling me this, Stan?” Kyle cuts Stan off once again, even more confused and angry than before.
“Because, despite how great she was in the past and how great she is now, she could never compete with you.” Stan is now looking into Kyle's emerald eyes, desperate for Kyle to gaze back into his ocean blue eyes.
“Stanley-”
“No, Kyle. Let me tell you how the date went.”
“...Okay.” Kyle nods. Stan takes Kyle's hands and holds them, not breaking eye contact.
“So, we went to Bennigans, right? I got there before her. I waited out the front and there she was, stepping out of her car with the sexiest dress on.”
“Stan, what is the point in this? Are you just trying to get a reaction out of me because I swear to god-” Kyle takes his hands away from Stan and stands up.
“Fucking hell, dude, just listen.” Kyle sits back down.
“So, we walked into the restaurant. We had such a great time together, like there was no awkwardness about us at all. She must've thought the same because we ended up back at her place.” Kyle looks at Stan, the utmost disgust creeping onto his face.
“I don't want to hear this.”
“Yes, you do.” Kyle just sighs and leans back onto the sofa, preparing to hear the rest of Stan's endeavours with Wendy, the girl he hated the most.
“We make it to her apartment and she pins me to the door and starts to make out with me.” Kyle clenches his fists together, trying to control his temper. He wasn't really jealous, more angry with the fact that Stan felt the need to show off about getting with Wendy.
“Obviously I kissed her back, but it didn't feel right. Like usually i’d be hard this far in-”
“Gross, man, fuck!” Kyle puts his hands over his ears to try and save them from the rest of this story. Stan takes Kyle's hands off of his ears and holds them once again.
“Listen to me. So, we ended up in her place right? We were making out on the sofa, it was all going okay-ish and she started touching me up. It’s not like, bad or anything and I finally got a stiffy. But then she just stops everything. She looked pissed, dude.” Kyle looks at Stan, again confused by, well, everything.
“What, why?” Kyle questions.
“It’s a bit embarrassing really…”
“Dude, just tell me. There was no point telling me any of this otherwise.” Kyle gives Stan a stern look. The blonde folds.
“Alright, um. She got mad because I like, god this is so embarrassing. I moaned your name.” Kyle sits there in shock. He’s paralysed.
“C’mon, man. Say something for christ sake.” Stan looks and Kyle expectantly.
“That doesn't mean anything.” It is Stan's turn to be shocked.
“Dude, I just told you I was thinking of you whilst hooking up with a chick and that means nothing?”
“Yes, Stan. It means nothing. I’m going to bed.” Kyle quickly stands up off the sofa and walks towards the staircase leading to his room.
“Fucking hell, Kyle! I wanked over you last night. Does that mean anything?” Stan is now standing, pleading with Kyle. He wants Kyle to give him a chance, he wants to be with Kyle. He wants do do everything from going on cute dates to arguing about rent money to angry fucking and falling asleep cuddling each other. He wants Kyle.
“Go to sleep, Stan. We’ll talk in the morning.” Were the last words Kyle speaks to Stan before walking up the stairs to his room. Kyle hears a huff coming from downstairs, the sound of someone collapsing on a piece of furniture followed.

Kyle looks around his empty room. Everything is packed into labelled boxes from ‘clothes’ to ‘books’ to ‘paperwork’. He is moving from South Park tomorrow. He got a call just before Stan came over to tell him that he had been approved and could move in immediately. Kyle spoke to his soon to be place of employment and updated them about his current situation and asked about starting work. This time next Monday, he’ll be exhausted out of his mind in his new bed in his new place, just arriving home from his new job. And Stan wouldn't be there. Kyle knows how hard it was to cut Stan out of his life, he can't say goodbye a second time. Not in person anyway.