A/N: This is my first Kenny x Kyle story ever, so I hope you like it! If people do then I might continue it, if not... then it's just going to be a oneshot. Mi Estrella means My Star in Spanish. Just if you wondered.

I don't own South Park or any of it's characters.

It is in Kenny's POV.

I think after so long I just stopped caring about everything.

I stopped caring that Cartman and almost every other person in this shit hole town thought because I was so poor, they could pay me for an easy lay. Hell, it's probably true.

I stopped caring that Stan hated me so fucking much, that he couldn't even stand being in the same room as me. I guess I had that one coming after I got his girlfriend pregnant.

I stopped caring about school, how I looked, the fact I hardly got to eat, or that no one looked at me like I was really a person. To them all, I was just an object. A poor broken and beaten toy for them to play with.

If you don't live in this town, and you don't know how things work here, then you'll probably be feeling pity for me right now. Don't. Pity is worse then the million different kinds of deaths I had to go through when I was younger. It's true that I'm a nobody, it's true I'm a whore, and it's true that one day everyone I know will leave me to rot in this fucking town.

Isn't life great?

I sighed as a gust of smoke left my mouth, floating up to the sky. It was a really nice night, and if there wasn't the pounding beat of music spilling from the house behind me, it would have been peaceful too. Right now I was sitting on the back porch at Stan's house, trying to escape from the crazy party that was going on inside. Things were fine, until the alcohol came out. If you've ever had it, you would know that enough of the shit can make people do some fucked up stuff.

Taking another puff from the cigarette in my hand, I leaned against the railway while closing my eyes. Blocking out all the noises, I let my thoughts drift. Why did I even come to Stan's party? It's no secret he absolutelyhates me. Plus, these parties always either make me feel invisible or like a hooker when drunk girls and guys come to me looking for sex. I never refuse them either. It's always quick, messy and full of fake pleasures and emotions. I've never fell in love with anyone, and no one has fell for me either. We all just use each other. Sex is easy. Looking at the person in the mirror after words isn't.

Kyle told me once that I do it because it makes me feel noticed. Like I'm not a nobody. Maybe he's right, but I try not to think about that much. Something about it makes me feel funny and sad at the same time. He's tried to make me stop, and for all he knows I have. That's not the truth though, and I don't know how he misses it again and again. Why I lie to him is another question too. What about Kyle makes me not want him to be disappointed or sad?

"Kenny?" Speak of the devil...

I turned around to see Kyle's bouncy red curls appear out onto the deck. He had ditched his dorky green hat a few years back, letting his hair finally be free from its prison. Since then they had curled down into spirals, curving around his face making it look small and pretty. Wait... did I say pretty? Um, I meant nice. Ya...

He plopped down beside me stealing my cigarette and throwing it somewhere in Stan's lawn. Then he turned towards me questioning, "What are you doing out here? It's fucking freezing out."

His slight shivering form only reinforced his comment. I hadn't noticed before, but now that he had mentioned it, I could feel the cold seeping through my thin-bare orange parka. I must have drank one too many of those beers before...

I shrugged before replying, "I just needed to get away from all that, you know?" I waved towards the house slightly. He gave me a puzzled look with those bright green eyes, "No I don't, Kenny. Come on back inside, ok? Stop being so serious and have some fun with us." He started tugging me towards the house, and I fought only a second before giving in. I never have won an argument with Kyle, and I doubt I ever will.

Soon enough, I was back into the tightly packed crowd all dancing to the same beat, with all there eyes filled with the same drunken lust as they grinded whoever was closest to them. All the songs, dances, and drinks blurred into one big messy picture. I smiled, laughed, flirted, danced and played my role perfectly. The poor boy, the flirt, the sex demon, call me whatever you wanted and I would be it. No one cared what I truly was like, or what I was feeling.

Somehow, I found myself back on the deck with a pounding head and an aching body. I ruffled my blonde hair with a sigh, grasping at blurry memories. I was drinking with Butters and then... Blank. I wonder what kind of mess I made this time.

Right about then, I noticed how quiet it was. Turning around, I noticed that the house was dark and that there was no one around. Fuck how long have I been out here...

The click of the door opening surprised me, and for one second I was hoping that it was Kyle again. I was disappointed when I came to face Stan.

He looked at me strangely before letting out a slurred cry, "Keennee! There you aree! I waz lookin' for youuu." He smiled brightly before lifting me up to my feet. Stan had mutured a lot since we were little. He had gotten taller and pulled out strong muscles from no where. He was one of the best players on the football team, and was basically Mr. Popular.

He ended up dragging me into his house while blubbering on about nothing, before crashing on the first couch we found. I just raised an eyebrow, before deciding to start heading home.

The worst part about South Park, is that it was always fucking cold and wet. Whether wet meant snow, rain, hail, or sleet. It's two times worse when your poor and don't have warm clothes or a heater in your house. Ya, I love good old South Park.

Even though it was cold and snowy, it was still a beautiful night. I stared up at the silver stars as I walked along the side walk. The only sound was my feet slapping against the icy ground and my breathe. I hardly ever had moments like this, moments were I was calm and happy. Where no one was screaming at me for being so worthless or people pretending to like me for something. Sometimes I felt like the night sky, I was there but hardly anyone ever looked up to appreciate it.

My name being called broke me out of my thoughts. I glanced back to see Kyle sliding down the sidewalk towards me. I waved before waiting so he could catch up to me, so he could smile at me like I was a real person and looking at me when I talked like he cared. Those little things just seem to brighten up my world. They make me actually care about things for a while.

Ya, life is pretty great.