Random and slightly pointless introduction: So this is from Kenny's POV. I'm not entirely sure where this is going, so, um... Yeah. I wrote this really fast when I was bored, so... Please review and stuff, it makes me a happy person.

Warning: Well, they swear. That's it so far (yes, so far).

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Every day was the same. It's like South Park had become a normal town, ever since Cartman left. Sure, everyone said they hated him, but wasn't life better with him living here? More interesting, at least. I could tell that even Kyle missed him. Stan did, too. And Craig, and Clyde. And everyone else. I think Butters misses him the most. They kind of became best friends when I ditched Cartman. Butters always hung out with Cartman. They could've become closer than Kyle and Stan.

But then Cartman's real mother had to come find him. That was in seventh grade. Cartman came to school, looking pale and sad. He told us (Kyle, Stan, Butters, Tweek, and I) that he was moving to California. Butters cried, Tweek had a panic attack, Kyle laughed, Stan gave Eric a hug. If I remember right, I just stood there.

After he left, it just wasn't the same. The five of us stood at the bus stop the morning after he left in complete silence. Even Tweek was still. Cartman leaving changed everything. Butters started dressing in black, and he no longer stuttered. Kyle, for some reason or another, stopped wearing his green hat. Stan was a lot quieter. And me, no one really noticed how I changed, or even if I changed. I stopped having a best friend to do that a long time ago.

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Four years after Cartman left, and we're all 11th graders. I walked down the hallway. Tweek and Token were arguing about God knows what. They always argue. I ignored them, as always. About ten feet after, Stan was standing with his arm around Red's waist, next to Craig, who was holding Bebe's hand. Fifteen feet ahead of me, Kyle and Clyde were encircled by people chanting "Fight!". Not again.

I walked away quickly and snuck behind the school. The four original Goth kids were sitting one the steps with their two newer members: Butters and Wendy. "Hey," I said, lighting a cigarette. Luckily, I was one of the few non-Goth people that they liked. I'm not entirely sure why me, but who cares.

"Hey Keny," Wendy replied. She had grown her hair out until it reached her waist. She had choppy bangs that covered one of her violet eyes. She had light purple streaks in her hair and she wore a ton of makeup. She had a black lacy tank top on, and black skinny jeans, with shiny black strappy high heels.

Tyler, the Goth kid with the red roots, nodded at me. "Hey, Ken."

Henrietta took a drag on her cigarette. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "The usual. I'm living the same day again and again. Not literally, of course."

Sam, the 8th grader, snorted. "Aren't we all?"

I grinned, inhaling on my cigarette. "This is South Park, what should we expect?"

The curly haired Goth, Andrew, snorted. "The elementary days?"

I laughed. "Now that would be more interesting."

Butters sipped his black coffee. "Whatever happened to those days anyway?" His side-swept black bangs had dark blue streaks. He had a plain black t-shirt, and black skinny jeans with silver chains.

I sighed. "Cartman left."

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The teacher droned on. I tuned out. what class am I even in, anyway? What's the point of knowing, I'm not going anywhere with my life. But I think I might be in science class... Do I have biology or chemistry? Does it matter? It definitely doesn't. Wait, or is this Lit? Maybe I'm in Spanish. No, I'm not asleep yet, so it couldn't be Lit or Spanish. Wait, it is Lit... Why am I not asleep?

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around to see two bright green eyes staring at me. Tame red curls fell over them and Kyle bit his lip. "Hey, uh, Kenny... Could I borrow a pencil?"

I snorted. "The first thing you say to me in two years, and you're asking for a pencil. Are you fucking kidding me, dude?" I turned away, fists clenched.

"Asshole..." I heard him say under his breath.

I spun around. "You wanna say something, say it to my face," I growled.

His eyes hardened in anger and he leaned in a little closer. "You're an asshole, Kenny."

"I didn't ditch my best friends, bastard," I hissed, glaring fiercely into his cold eyes.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oh, get over it, pussy. It was eighth grade, and you didn't really care anyway."

"So? Stan cared."

He raised one eyebrow. "Did it matter to you if Stan got hurt?"

The bell rang and everyone rose and left the classroom. Once I was safely in the middle of the hallway, I turned around and punched Kyle in the nose as hard as I could. Trickles of blood slipped down his face and he stumbled back from the impact. "Yeah, dude, it mattered," I said calmly.

"You. Fucking. Asshole," Kyle said through clenched teeth. His hands curled into fists. He punched me in the stomach.

I grabbed his wrist as he tried to pull his hand back. I twisted his arm and he inhaled sharply in pain. Kyle slammed his foot onto mine and I let go in shock. I recovered quickly, despite my throbbing foot, and I slammed my fist into Kyle's chest. I was about to punch him again, when I felt someone's hand on my shoulder.

I turned and saw my current closest friends, Craig and Butters, behind me. Craig lifted his hand away and said, "He's not worth it, Kenny, trust me."

I relaxed my fists and sighed. "You're right." I shot a last glare at Kyle. His girlfriend, Millie, had come over and handed him a tissue to wipe the blood away. "Look after your girl, Ky. She goes to certain parties that you don't go to."

Kyle glared at me, and didn't respond.