Chapter Text
Stan Marsh was ten years old when his best friend left.
He did everything he could to get him back. Including singing a song about the importance of electric cars-which, frankly, he didn’t give two shits about.
Nobody cared.
Stan tried his best to keep in touch. He told Kyle all about the latest insane thing happening in their mountain town or the latest thing his idiotic dad did.
Kyle responded with enthusiasm at first. He talked about getting his parents to visit. Maybe change their mind about San Francisco.
Calls were shorter. Texts ended up being far and in between. By the time Stan was in middle school his best friend became radio silent.
It’s nothing he would ever admit to anyone, even Kenny, but the loss of his best friend made his depression feel even worse.
The brunette boy had plenty of friends. He went with the flow and took things with a grain of salt so most people liked him. But they didn’t know him.
Not like Kyle did.
He started to put his feelings on to music. It started as a way to express his anger about living on a farm in bumfuck nowhere and then it went to everything.
So by the time Stan Marsh was sixteen he was the lead of a punk rock band called Crimson Dawn.
He dyed his hair a sort of combination between dark blue and a darker version of his original black. His hair was more shaggy and his clothes were less Terrence+Phillip and Broncos and more band tees and the occasional ripped jeans.
Some people stopped talking to him. Cartman was one of the first, considering him a “faggy emo” and said he couldn’t associate with that. He focused on football and trying to get laid and failing miserably.
Kenny became a more floater. He was friends with everyone, so he was constantly bouncing between groups depending on the day. He also was considered the guy with connections. Most guys went to him if they wanted something for parties or recreational use. So even though Kenny could be considered his closest friend Stan still didn’t have a best friend.
Once Butters started figuring out how he felt about his family, who were fucked up even by South Park standards, the blonde boy ended up putting all his aggression in the music and completely embracing the punk scene along with him. He was a pretty cool guy, once being a Melvin wasn’t such a priority.
Jimmy and Kenny were also part of the band. But really Butters and Stan were the ones that really embraced the aesthetic.
“Are you ready to rock?” he screamed into the mega phone at the place they managed to book in Denver.
The audience screamed. Stan grinned and let his band start and he frantically started whipping his head and yelling into the microphone. Butters emphasized his words.
Eventually their playing ended. As they were taking care of their equipment and all heading to their respective vehicles, Butters stopped and waved with a call of, “See you Monday!”
He smiled. Stan couldn’t say life was the best. But it was okay.
What Stan didn’t expect going into Monday was a new kid coming in. A new kid apparently everyone was excited about.
He watched as the majority of the junior and senior crowd gathered up to a tall boy. Stan couldn’t see their faces but he could hear Kenny laughing.
Guess he already made a friend, thought the boy. That was faster than usual. He took a drag out of his cigarette.
Butters ran towards him. He was just getting to school, apparently. His rents were getting on his case for something again. Once he was next to him, Stan offered a cigarette and Butters took it. The blonde boy took a drag.
“Did you see that boy in that massive group?” inquired the blonde. He pointed over where the tall, lanky looking boy was. “Doesn’t he look like Kyle?”
Stan shook his head. “Kyle Broflovski?” he asked, skeptical.
Butters nodded. His eyes gleamed in excitement. “Yeah, he had the same red hair and everything.”
The other boy snorted. He threw his cigarette down and put his shoe over it to break it. “Think he’s up in San Fran, dude,” he said.
Butters smiled, taking his last drag before blowing the fire away and throwing it away in the nearest trash. “Wouldn’t that be something, though? You guys were thick as thieves.”
Stan couldn’t help the nostalgic smile that crossed his face. They were a good team.
“Yeah.” he said softly. “It would be.
The bell rang and everyone was rushing to get inside. Stan went to his locker. He could hear the faint buzzing of words going around.
“…..hot”
“Can you believe?”
“…..date….”
Stan rolled his eyes. He could only guess whoever this new stud was at the school is going to be the new flavor of the week.
South Park never really got new people. So whenever they do people get way, way, too invested.
He was walking to his theatre class when suddenly he saw Cartman. The bulky guy was talking to the redhaired one with an almost flirty look on his face, flexing.
What.
Since when was Cartman into dudes? If he was, why would he go for a redhead? Last time he checked that guy considered them practically soulless.
Kyle, the ginger, was his rival years ago.
What in the Twilight Zone is this shit?
“I’m Kyle.” said the redheaded boy, his expression in a lazy grin.
Stan stopped in his tracks. He almost ran into Bebe Stevens and Wendy Testaburger. He mumbled a ‘sorry’ before trying to hide.
You can be discreet in a school hallway, right?
Stan looked over at the boy. He was tall and lanky. The perfect build for a baseball player. His hair was curly. He frowned. But there was no ushanka. No way that’s Kyle, right?
His eyes looked to be green in the lighting, though Stan couldn’t help but notice it looked red at some points. Was he high?
Stan tuned out after Cartman introduced himself and Kyle complimented the boy.
There’s no way.
The two other boys walked away, seemingly not noticing Stan, and he heard the warning bell.
“Kyle?” he whispered.