The people that you must remember (Kenny x Reader) (COMPLETE)

Just because the school week is over doesn't mean the shit show is

Your first Saturday in South Park and here you were, spending it packing for a funeral.

Awesome.

And the whole time you were going through your closet to find suitable funeral clothes, you couldn't help but find that you were internally arguing with yourself. Yesterday had been a fucking trip, from Cartman bringing your bitch of a mom to school, to tearing up Tegridy farms with Stan and the others.

Sitting in the back of your truck, Kenny's arms holding you to him as you both laughed, Stan spinning the truck like a mad man as he plowed over his dad's hemp field. Despite how terrifying the earlier day had been, there with Kenny, you'd felt..safe.

You should really tell him the truth about the 'old' Douchebag.

But god, did that thought scare you. More than seeing your mother had scared you.

God, you needed to get your shit together.

A knock on your dorm door caught your attention and you looked up from the closet, which you'd been staring at blankly for the last ten minutes. Hopefully whoever it was hadn't been waiting long. Probably Wendy or Sprinkles or Karen.

Or Kenny.

"Uh..It's open!" You called, and immediately regretted it as the goth kids, minus one Firkle, came in. Henrietta paused in the doorway and glanced around your bedroom. Posters for The Birthday Massacre, Creature Feature, CaveTown, and Daughter. Your bed was pastel purple with unicorn skeletons on it, and you had a number of stuffies sitting on top, such as Deady Bear, an All Might plush, Sonic the Hedgehog, and Hello Kitty. She gave a snort. "Poser." "...The fuck do you try harder want?" You asked, stepping away from the closet and crossing your arms. Henrietta stepped inside and specifically blew smoke into your room. Wrinkling you're nose you snatched the cigarette holder from he hand and put it out on the window.

"Either tell me what you want or get the fuck out. I'm busy."

"You May trick those preppy posers, but I see right through you." Henrietta scowled, holding her hand out. You gave her back the holder, meeting her glare with your own. "Yes, as you keep saying. Are you stuck on repeat? Are you broken? Should your goth gang take you to get repaired?" "You're hiding something."

Ah fuck.

Henrietta was talking out of her ass. You knew that. But the fact was, she was right. And you didn't like that. "Oh yeah? Like what?" You snorted, despite your better judgement. Henrietta crosses her arms, smirking. "You're a bad person. And not the fun kind. You're some sort of loser trying desperately to fit in with the popular bitches. And you're only barely making the grade." 

You couldn't help but notice how bored Pete and Michael looked. It seemed they weren't as invested in Henrietta's whole..whatever this even was. In fact, Pete was eyeing your Deady Bear doll, Which was signed by Voltair.

"Okay, and? Even if I am, what's it to you, Enoby."

"That's not my name!"

Hah. She had no idea how perfect it was that she'd said that.

"Kenny hates liars, you know."

Fuck.

You turned back to your closet, trying to seem indifferent to her comment. "Whatever. Can you and your groupies go? I have a funeral to pack for." "I'm going to look forward to the day everyone turns on you." Henrietta relit her cigarette and started to leave your room, "Especially when Kenny is one of them." With the last word, Henrietta left with Pete, but Michael lingered for a moment. You gave him a glare, and he held up his hands.

"Hey, no, I just...I'm sorry for your loss."

"....Thanks. Now get out."

Michael left, closing the door behind him. You turned on Spotify on your laptop and just started tossing random things into your coffin shaped traveling bag.

And I'm a liar and I am a thief,
Taking things from those better than me.
Pathetic little man with some pathetic little dream,
I hope you all can forgive me.