Hate My Guts (Kenny x Butters) [Completed]

6

It was unusual nowadays for Kenny to skip out on classes. Since he was trying to eventually make it outside of South Park, he knew that he needed to attend his classes so he could graduate. Today though, Kenny couldn't move from where Clyde had left him in the courtyard. There was too much on his mind.

His thoughts were in a loop, repeatedly circling back to the assumed fact that Kenny was just a burden in everyone's life. When they were younger, he had been the one who kept everyone's spirits up; however, lately he was finding that he needed someone to keep his spirits up. Even before the problem of the Irish Mob appeared, Kenny was feeling as if he was going through a terrible shift. The constant feelings of abandonment, fear and anger swirling in his head uncontrollably - he didn't have an outlet.

Luckily for Kenny, his friends seemed to get the hint that he wanted to be left alone for a while. As much as he loved them, Kenny didn't get as much alone time as he should've since he was busy taking care of other people. He'd always preferred to keep it that way yet, that mindset was starting to show its flaws to Kenny, overwhelming him like waves crashing down on his head. He was drowning and didn't know how to call out for help.

Despite everything weighing heavily on his shoulders, Kenny finally stood up from his spot on the table, scowling at the empty cigarette pack in his hand. When he got to school a few hours ago, Kenny had a full pack and now that he had spent time in his anxious thoughts, he was going to have to go the rest of the day with no nicotine. That made him pretty grumpy.

Shoving his hands in his jean pockets as he lifted his hood onto his head, Kenny stared blankly at the grimey floor of the school as he continued on towards his fourth hour. He was easily one of the most recognized people in the school, but with his hood up shielding his unique face, Kenny was unbothered as he walked past everyone. As he walked depressingly through the hall, Kenny couldn't help but to think about Stan, and how he often folded into himself, shutting everyone out; Kenny was starting to understand his best friend more in that moment, a swirling dark cloud of depression following him.

With his best friend's own struggles on his mind, Kenny was relieved when he realized that only Stan and Craig were in the next hour with him. Of course they would be able to sniff out his odd behavior immediately, but at least it wouldn't be Kyle demanding to know what was going on. Sometimes Kyle could be a bit of a trigger for Kenny, reminding him of his mother.

The art class had already started a few minutes earlier, and much to Kenny's surprise, Stan and Craig were already staring at him as he slipped in the door. Unfortunately, David was also in this class, staring at Kenny with menacing eyes as he always did. Doing his best to ignore the glare, Kenny smoothly stepped over the leg David stuck out to trip him - he was already privy to the stunts that he would try to pull. It was too predictable, the little ways that David wanted to mess with him, and it would never work on an unfazed Kenny.

With a heavy thud, Kenny sat next to Craig as he looked towards the teacher's desk where she was watching Game of Thrones, seemingly unaware that she was supposed to be teaching. That was South Park High though, no one gave a shit. He rolled his eyes at this, pulling a notebook from his backpack as he felt his friend's eyes boring a hole in the side of his head. Trying to ignore them though, Kenny flipped to a random page of the notebook, and was surprised when he saw that he had already been writing a story a little bit ago. As much as he wanted to focus on the one hobby he had, Kenny couldn't ignore the persistent stares.

"Dude," Stan started flatly, causing Kenny to sigh heavily and drop his pencil in defeat. "What's up with you?"

A ping of annoyance hit Kenny's forehead at his best friend's question. They always want to know what's wrong with me, but what is that going to fix? Kenny thought to himself with a long exhale, deciding that he probably shouldn't attack his friends for caring about his mental health. "Nothing."