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

Henrietta and Mysterion are Dramatic AF

At nightfall, Henrietta struggled to climb out onto the fire escape of the girls' dorm. Maybe she should lose some weight.

Not that she'd ever admit to even considering it.

She sat down, legs dangling off the edge, and lit her cigarette, taking a deep inhale and waiting. She knew Mysterion would come poking around there, and once he did, they could settle this once and for all. You weren't there to get in the way anymore. Henrietta could finally talk some sense into her dark Romeo. She'd even dressed up for the occasion. Everyone knew that Kenny, the man behind the mask, was a bit of a horn dog. Even if he hadn't been acting that way lately. Henrietta was sure her low cut dress-that was just a tad too small for her-would be able to sway him, if just a little.

Mysterion would be hers.

As if by schedule, Henrietta spotted a muscular teenage boy clad in purple striding onto campus after a long night of patrolling for criminals. She gave a while and waved as he looked up. Growling under his breath, Mysterion made quick work of climbing up the fire escape. It was a windy night, the smell of rain thick in the air, and every now and then the wind would whip his hood off, revealing for a brief moment a few locks of sun kissed blonde hair before he would aggressively hide it again. He really should figure out a way to fix that. Or Henrietta could do it for him. He finally made it to the roof and towered over her, his arms crossed. "What do you need, Biggles?" He asked in that Christian Bale voice, though it was laced with a bit more animosity than she was used to. Henrietta smirked and stood, stepping forward so their chests were touching. As much as they could with the height difference between the two. "We need to discuss our relationship."

Mysterion immediately stepped back and turned, his cape fluttering as he headed back towards the stairs if the fire escape. "If you don't need help, I'm leaving. Besides, we have no relationship."

"Oh, but we do." Henrietta countered, smirking with a hand on her hip. "We've had something ever since I helped you rescue your sister from Count Fagula and his loser friends at Casa Bonita all those years ago." Mysterion had paused now, and she walked towards him, picking up his cape and twirling a bit of it around her finger in what Henrietta figured probably looked seductive. "We've flirted. We've even kissed before. And now that you know the truth about that douchebag (Y/N), you can finally stop kidding yourself with the silly idea that light can be in your life. Take a moment to think hard about what you actually want~"

At that, an image of you flashed through Mysterion's mind. You standing next to him, your cheeks pressed together as you looked through the view finder. He could feel a knot twisting and forming painfully in his stomach. You really were a douchebag. The douchebag. The original. And you hadn't told him. How could you not tell him? Could he trust you now, knowing you'd kept something so important from him?

"Clearly (Y/N) was just too scared to let anyone know the truth. I almost can't blame her. If I knew everyone in town would be out for my head, I wouldn't want to tell anyone either."

Henrietta's words, meant to get him on her side, hit Mysterion like a truck.

You were scared.

It was such a fucking obvious conclusion once he thought about it. That's why you didn't tell him. How could he have been so fucking stupid.

Henrietta had kept going on. It was the usual. How they shared a darkness. How there was pain inside him that only she could understand. Mysterion wasn't really listening anymore. He had lifted his head to stare at the few Clusters of stars that were peeking out through the growing dark clouds, and he wondered if you were staring up at them too. Wondered if you would come back.

Mysterion wouldn't be surprised if you didn't.

After what Cartman did, how could you? What was even left for you here? Your friends, maybe. But would that be enough? Were you willing to come back to this absolute hell of a town just for them?

"You aren't listening!" Henrietta snapper at Mysterion, managing to take him from his thoughts, but not enough to take his eyes off the stars. "You'd had your chance, Henrietta." Mysterion spoke, his Bale impression home, but his voice was cold. "You has many chances. How many times have I already tried to have this very conversation with you, and you just waved it off? I lost interest in you a while ago.." He trailed off for a minute, the next words struggling to leave his mouth. It felt like he didn't have the right to say them, as true as they were.

"...All I want is (Y/N), though I'm sure she could never feel the same, not after I failed her like I did."

"How can you still have such a hard on for that conformist liar?!" Henrietta was LIVID. So much so she'd snapped her cigarette holder in two as she balled up her fists. The rain had started to fall, as if her angered telling had made the skies cry in fear. "She's a bitch who hurt you! And she's a poser who pretends to be goth for fun!" She snarled the last word, and Mysterion rolled his eyes, finally looking back to her. "That's what subcultures are, Henrietta Biggle. Things that are supposed to be fun. Where people can be around others like them and find happiness together. In fact," Mysterion challenged, "You two could probably even be friends if you stopped acting like a mopey bitch for five minutes!"

Henrietta was dumbstruck by his outburst. This challenge to everything she believed goth was.

"I have absolutely no interest in you, Henrietta Biggle." Mysterion turned from her again, standing at the edge of the roof and preparing to make his way down the fire escape. "And that's never going to change, under any circumstances."

Mysterion hopped down-

and his foot slid off the rail due to the rain.

By now, he was out of sight, and Henrietta didn't see him fall to the ground, cracking his head on the concrete below.

Huh. It had been a while since Mysterion had died.

Ashe lay there, his warm blood mixing with the cold puddle he'd landed in, Mysterion found himself staring up at the sky. Were you looking at the stars too? Was the wetness forming in his eyes from the rain, or tears?