ᵍᵒᵈˡʸ • ˢᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵏ

[2]

⇾ MEDIA TEASE

I didn't know what to say then, and I don't much know what to say now. I know what I want to say of course. I also know what I want you to say. I probably know what you yourself want to say, or maybe something close to it. Some say life's about wanting. Or more honestly, getting what you want. I think I believe it.

You'd been working on your confidence this year, or at least that's what you'd decided on for a new years resolution. Though even with that, it was hard to scoop the words out of your mouth or numb the buzz in your mind and all the way down through your fingertips long enough to foster a response.

"So can I pick you up tomorrow night at 11?" His question echoed in your mind. You couldn't tell how many seconds had passed at this point, but you guessed it couldn't really matter. He had to be sympathetic to your situation, or at least you hoped that he was. It's hard to really trust people after what happened, and Stan had to recognize he played a key role in things becoming the way that they are now. He hurt you, and he knows that.

"Look," He continued on slowly with a sigh, "I just thought we could change things. Theres no reason for us to keep wanting for something so fucking bad, and even seeing it there right in front of you. Knowing it's within reach, and still just wishing. Maybe it's just me, but that's how I feel at least."

You stopped sucking on your teeth. The way he spoke the words "wanting for something so fucking bad" made your hand clam up around the phone. Made you ache, and he knew it too. "Heh, so will you?" He pressed further, a little desperation on his tongue.

"I guess so Stan, but don't think I'm just ready to jump back into things right away." You took a deep breath that leveled out into a sigh, "I hate waiting.."

-

You spent the summer long holed up in your bedroom, rather than living it up in a shared Hawaii beach house with most of the girls whom you called peers. Now, as it was nearing an end with only a week remaining, you felt more disposable than ever.

"What a waste." You grumbled to yourself, hardly audibly as your soft tone got lost in the harmony of light taps of rain against the pavement.

As your well worn red rubber ladybug rain boots dove through mud puddles you pondered how you'd survive junior year with all the rumors that had been circulating online. Though they weren't, and would never be true, they still had you wrung as if hundreds of slimy earth worms resided in your veins. The cause of this wicked string of lies?

Most definitely Eric Cartman. A unique talent of his seemed to be recognizing nearly anyone's distress and carving a target out of them. He ran the 'anonomous' pignose blog that disclosed bundles of incriminating rumors about students of South Park High.

It was no suprize when you turned up as the next hottest thing, with false screenshots to display a 'relationship' between you and Kenny McCormick. The worst part was this all took place when you and Stan were 7 months deep into your bittersweet relationship. Those who were ravenous for drama had devoured this whole, of course. With Kenny's reputation, it wasn't far fetched to believe he'd paid you for certain services. Those who were dumb enough ignored the small fact of his financial state, of course.

You didn't know why his own best pal had been on the receiving end of Eric's scheming, though it plummeted Mr. Charming on the popularity scale all the same. Not that it mattered much anymore really. People tend to forget about things, seemingly when it came to just about anybody but yourself.

Whipping wind suffocated your reddening face, pulling the snot from your sinuses as well as water to your distracted eyes. It'd been unusually cold all throughout August, though you wouldn't have gone out if you knew it was this freakishly chilly. Your fingers fumbling for warmth inside your pockets were starting at numbness. After several minutes of powering through the wave of shivers rocking your body you yearned to duck inside Tweek Bros for refugee.