Do You Even Care? / STYLE SOUTHPARK

☆ Chapter 01☆

...Kyle's POV...

I squeeze my eyes shut tight as the sound of throw-up lands in the toilet next to me. After a moment I glance over. Stan's gripping the edge of the toilet bowl for dear life and leaning over it. After a moment he slowly leans away from the toilet and loosens his grip. Then he sits on the floor, still facing the toilet, and lets go to the toilet.

Stan's an alcoholic. It's his way of coping with everything since last year when his dad died. He had a stroke. Since then, Stan has turned to either me or alcohol with all his problems. It worries me, of course, but I'll always be there for him.

"Here," I say as I hand him a full water bottle. He opens it and takes a quick sip, making a face as he does.

"Do I have to drink this? My mouth still tastes gross," he complains. I glare at him and he rolls his eyes before taking another drink.

"You want some ibuprofen?" I ask, shifting against the cabinets I'm sitting up against.

He nods, "Sure."

I stand up and grab the bottle from the shelf. The pills rattle about as I struggle with the child-proof lid. It opens and I grab two pills then set the bottle back on the shelf. He holds his hand out and I hand over the pills which he immediately pops into his mouth and swallows with one go.

"Dude! You're gonna choke!" I half shout and half laugh. He replies with just a sly smile. "You know, my birthday's a week from today," I tell him. He nods, taking a sip of water. "I was gonna invite you, Kenny, Butters, and Cartman over to do cake and then sleepover," I explain.

He smiles happily, "I'll be there, Ky."

He doesn't know it but when he calls me Ky it makes me want to explode. The nickname makes me oddly flustered. I mean yes, I have a crush on him but it's just a short version of my name it's not anything super personal. I've come to the conclusion that it's the way he says it that is what flusters me. Further proof being that I don't like anyone else calling me Ky. I hate how they say it, it just sounds dumb.

"Cool, everyone's gonna be getting there at six," I tell him. He nods, fixing his hair with one hand.

Stan and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. Which is why we know pretty much everything about each other. It also makes me feel a little guilty that I haven't told him that I'm gay but I'm just too nervous. Either way, he texts me with all his problems. We talked for long stretches of time every day after his dad died. About his dad or just randomly as a distraction. He talked to me about Shelly and her problems. How she was always arguing with him or hanging out with some guys a few years older than her. And when that wasn't what she was doing you could hear her crying through the walls. It's the end of her senior year.

Oh and Stan's ex-girlfriend, Wendy. It's very...awkward. Every time they see each other it's like they forget how to be normal people and just talk. But Wendy is a nice person. A truly good kid, she's cheer captain and on the honor roll.

"You've gotta stop this, dude,"  I say with a joking tone although I genuinely wish he would.

He chuckles in a sad sounding way and then lets out a long sigh, "I know." The way he said that makes me feel worried. I don't say anything about it though.

Stan stands up and walks out of the room. I flush the toilet and shut the door behind me. "Drink your water," I scold him.

"I am," he hisses back without turning around. I follow him into my room. He flops onto my bed on his back and smiles. "Want to watch a movie?" he asks.

I smile, "Sure." he grabs his phone and turns onto his stomach then I lay next to him. He chooses a comedy and leans it up against one of my pillows and we settle in. We watch without talking for a while. It's not bad movie so far. At a funny part I chuckle and glance to see Stan's reaction. I see that Stan fell asleep. A smile crawls across my face. He looks so cute when he's asleep, very peaceful. I lay a blanket over him and stop the movie. Then gently I lift his head and place it on the pillow. He twitches a little but doesn't wake up. I gently run my fingers through his messy, jet-black hair.

I stand up and go downstairs to grab a snack. Seriously? Why do we have nothing good to snack on? I grab a package of Ritz. Leaning against the counter, I open the package and munch on a few.

Afterward, I put it away and go back upstairs. I lay down next to Stan, just looking at how calm he is. Is it creepy to watch your best friend sleep?Maybe. I've had a crush on him since freshman year. He's not gay though. And nobody knows I'm gay anyway. So I just acknowledge it and suffer in silence.

As I watch him I start to feel my eyelids get heavy. Heavier. Heavier. I slowly let them shut and yawn. A small nap sounds nice. I grab the blanket and pull it over so we can share. I open my eyes one last time, night Stan...