86 Feelings (Stan x Kenny)[Completed]

31

(Day 550)

The board scraped against the concrete with a painful screech as Stan tried for about the hundredth time that day to pull off a trick he knew he couldn't do. He wasn't even trying to show off for anyone either, in fact, the skate park was completely vacant.

Dusk fell over South Park as Stan continued to push himself to tune out the rest of the world, and keep skating. He never imagined this would work for him, but for the last two weeks it had actually helped to keep Kenny off his mind. No matter how many times Craig insisted that he was 'dog-shit' at it, at least he was doing something else. Screw Craig, anyway..

But, since he'd been skating all day, and had barely taken any breaks, Stan was making more careless mistakes. He didn't notice his own sloppiness until he was late on picking up his left foot, and it sent him tumbling down the ramp.

Well, fuck!

Stan laid sprawled out in the middle of the bowl, staring up at the darkening sky as he fought against the pain from his head taking the brunt of the impact. Although he could also feel bruises forming, and possibly a broken rib or two, he appreciated the silence. It was warm - he couldn't believe he was there alone. Stan felt a smile ease onto his face as a firefly floated by, lighting up as a greeting to the biggest loner in South Park. He figured the ease he felt was from the guaranteed concussion.

And yet, even in moments like this, Stan wished Kenny was there with him. They barely saw each other lately, and while they regularly worked together, Kenny seemed distracted. Stan couldn't blame him, of course, but that's why he'd been at the skate park all day - he wasn't going to just sit around, and wait for Kenny.

The disappearance of the sun only reminded him that he finally had to go somewhere else. Stan figured Kyle would be with David, so what was the point in going home? His options were limited, and he was desperate to do anything, but self-destruct. For once in his goddamn life, Stan was trying like hell to persevere. If he was supposed to be with Kenny, he had to do better to really deserve him.

"Ah!" Stan yelled out when he finally pushed up to a sitting position, ribs screaming at him for mercy. Definitely broken. "Goddamnit.."

He stumbled across the bowl while he searched for the dip to escape from the darkening park; as soon as Stan spotted his bag, he made an agonizing climb to level ground again. The pain in his ribs was enough for him to consider stopping by the urgent care, but with the thought of a medical bill on his dad's insurance, he decided to suck it up instead. Stan would live, and it was just a friendly reminder that he needed to get better, anyway.

Staggering through downtown as the lights flickered to life, Stan couldn't fathom the chances of the first thing his eyes landed on; it was funny, he'd lived there forever, and yet, he missed something the entire damn time. How many times had he missed it? How many times had he walked past the thing - no, the person - that made him feel the most alive?

He didn't understand because now, seeing Kenny McCormick on the other side of the street, walking in that stupid, orange jacket, Stan couldn't comprehend how he missed him. The store's advertisements behind him danced around his peripheral as he watched Kenny's steady stride, and his captivation in deep thought.

It was the first time Stan really smiled in a while.

Kenny..

Stan held his mouth firmly shut, though. They were taking time apart for a reason, so he wasn't about to bother him. Electing to look into the store front behind him instead, Stan frowned when he noticed it was closed. For some reason, most of the stores downtown seemed to be closed already, and now, the rest of his impulsive ideas were ruined. There were no more excuses, he had to go home.