CryBaby (COMPLETED)(South Park)

Chapter 6| Tweek

I storm into the boys bathroom dramatically, pushing open the door with my arm outstretched. I walk into the bathroom with my arm still stretched out in front of me, and stop when I reach the sinks.

I stop at the sink on the far end, gripping onto the sides of it and staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I've been having non stop rehearsals for the play, even though it's a good few months away. This is stressing me out! I don't know my lines, and I always know my lines. It's embarrassing to call out 'line!' every few minutes, and it's even worse to have my script on stage with me, as everyone else are perfectly capable without the pink books.

There's one reason why I haven't learnt my lines.

When you have an extremely attractive boyfriend, you tend to kiss him a lot. When that extremely attractive boyfriend moves into your house, and stays in you room with you, you tend to do a lot more than kissing a lot more often.

That is a huge distraction, especially since my boyfriend is the most attractive person, besides myself of course, on this entire planet. And my boyfriend is very good at doing a lot more than kissing, which means that I can't complain when it takes up my time.

This is a very valid reason for me not knowing my lines, but Ms. Davis, the drama teacher, doesn't know this reason and I don't think she will ever want to know this reason.

So I'm stuck looking unprofessional, when I'm one of the most talented, because of my boyfriend. I sigh in annoyance, and stare at my reflection.

"Come on Tweek, you're an amazing, super talented actor. People always tell me that I'm going to go far with acting. I can do this play, and I can learn my lines. Craig's dick will not stop me from shining." I tell myself, gripping onto the sides of the sink and giving my reflection a look of pure determination.

Happy with my own pep talk, I let go of the sink and clear my throat, turning to leave the bathroom. However, a few loud sobs escape someone's throat. They're covered up quickly, as if the person crying doesn't want anyone to know.

The sons came from one of the stalls, and I glance at them all, one question on my mind.

Do I confirm the crybaby?

Okay, calling them a crybaby was a little harsh. Something terrible could've actually happened to this person. I bite my lip in thought, and sigh in annoyance.

Why must I have such a good conscience?

I causally stroll towards the stalls, seeing all the doors are closed. I tap my foot and cross my arms, knowing that they would've heard my footsteps, meaning that they know I'm outside the stall door.

"So I heard your sobs." I start, hoping for a response. I get none. "Christmas is coming," I announce, "I've got to do something good to get on Santa's nice list, and I think comforting a stranger is a deed that will get me to the top of his list."

I wait once again for a response, yet don't get one. It's quiet, but I hear a small sniff come from the centre stall.

"If you're not coming out, I'm coming in." I say simply, shrugging.

"I'll c-come out." I finally get a response. The voice is shaky and small, and they sniff every few seconds.

I instantly feel for the person, as I immediately relate to anyone who has or had a stutter.

The toilet flushes, and the door slowly creeks open. There's a short boy standing in the door way of the stall. He has round, glassy brown eyes, pink, tear stained cheeks and messy hair.

I recognise the boy as the proclaimed 'Crybaby' of the year, and as the same boy Kevin saved from Red and Lola. He stares at me with eyes filled to the brim with despair and sadness, his bottom lip quivering.

A silence quickly settled between us, as we just stare at each other. The boy clutches a tissue, and continually lifts it up to his eyes and wipes them whenever a tear escapes.

"You're Tweek, r-right?" He asks, his brown eyes boring into my green.

"Yes.." I answer hesitantly, trying to think of his name. I don't want to offend him and make him cry more. From what Kevin has told Craig and I, this boy is very emotional.

I try and try to place a name to his face, knowing that Kevin has talked about him countless times. But I can't think of one.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall your name." I tell him, my voice gentle.

"I never told you my name." He says, the stutter disappearing from his words as he dries his eyes once more.

"Oh." I say bluntly, "what is your name then?"

"Clyde." He says softly, fiddling with the tissue in his grasp.

"Well Clyde, why are you so upset?" At my question, more tears build up in his eyes. I curse under my breath, throwing up my hands and waving them. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Don't cry!"

"It's nothing you did." He sniffs, looking down at his shoes. Tears continually roll down his cheek, and drop onto the tiled floor, shining in the bathroom lights. "It's just.." He takes a shaky breath, "my g-girlfriend broke up with me."

I stay silent as I just stare at the boy, and he shrugs. "I mean.. I don't r-really blame her. She could do so much better, as she said.."

"Wait, she said that she could do so much better than you?" I look at him in disbelief. I've only had one break up in my life, a girl that eventually moved, but she told me that I could do so much better (and I could).

"Yes.." Clyde says, shaking slightly.

"Wow, she must be a bitch." I say bluntly, uncrossing my arms and slipping my hands into my hoodie pockets. "Who was your girlfriend?"

Clyde looks a little unsure on whether he should answer the question or not, and this causes another small silence to settle upon us. I open my mouth to apologise, but he speaks before I do.

"Bebe Stevens."

"Oh, that makes sense now." I reply, and he looks at me confused. "Bebe is really self centred, and she always claims to look out for 'number one', IE herself." I explain, and Clyde nods.

"I'm a-aware. We had been dating for around two years."

My eyes widen, and I stare at him in disbelief. "Two years and she's breaking up with you?!" Clyde nods. "I've been in my relationship for what, a year?" Clyde shrugs. "Oh, does that make me a bad boyfriend? I don't exactly remember how long we've been together."

Clyde shrugs once again, but I know what he's thinking. Yes, a bad boyfriend is what I am.

"Anyway, returning to the topic at hand," I approach Clyde and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I don't think you should cry over Bebe, she clearly didn't appreciate what relationship you had. Clearly, you're the one that can do so much better."

Clyde sniffs, wiping his nose. He stars up at me, and the corners of his mouth slowly turn up in a smile. "Thank you Tweek, that was almost as motivational as y-your pep talk."

I feel my cheeks burn as I give Clyde a look. "Let's not discuss that, you heard nothing."

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Tweek is the second person in this story to make Clyde smile

CYA LATER NERDZ