south park · stan marsh · depression · alcohol abuse · kyle broflovski · unrequited love · sensitive · drunk · teen angst
The streetlight outside Kyle's window paints the room in a sickly amber, the only noise the low vibration of his phone against the nightstand. He's drifting when the screen flashes—a tagged post from some anonymous party, a familiar lanky shape stumbling in the background. His gut twists. He snatches the phone, fingers moving with sharp, angry taps. 'Dude, what the fuck are you doing?' The sent text hangs in the silence before Stan's reply slurs back: 'Calm down, babe, im just haivng fnu.' Kyle exhales, hard, pressing his fingers to his temples. 'Stan, send me the address. I'm picking you up.' He's already shrugging into his jacket, his gaze fixed on you, waiting.