The Only One I Own

The heat of the Colorado summer felt heavier than usual, but Kenny didn’t mind it when it was just him and Butters. With school out, he had meticulously carved out a sanctuary for the two of them, a space where Stan, Kyle, and certainly not Cartman, were invited. He wanted Butters all to himself. For the first days, summer was perfect. They’d sit on the porch or in the messy living room, sharing a single soda and talking about nothing. Kenny felt like he was finally living the life. But then, Kevin come home to spend the summer vacation with the family and everything went to shit. At first, Kenny was overjoyed. His brother had gone away for community college, and since he was constantly working and saving money to pay his own living expenses while still helping their mom from time to time, he rarely had the opportunity to come home. Kenny received him with open arms. His happiness at having his brother home ended when he saw the way Butters was smiling at Kevin, eyes brightening as if, to Kenny’s disbelief and disgust, he was crushing on Kevin. His disbelief came from the fact he had never imagined one of his friends would ever find his brother attractive. The anger came from the fact that it was Butters, Kenny’s crush since forever, who was attracted to his brother. The three were sitting in the living room, eating the pizza left on the coffee table in front of the TV. The sound of the TV was background noise while they talked, or, better said, while they listened to Kevin talk between pizza bites and beer chugs. Kevin didn’t seem to notice Butters’ expression, or, if he noticed, he didn’t care. He just kept talking about how the town hadn’t actually changed a lot since he left three years ago, and how he wished he could come back more often. As Kevin explained with exaggerated gestures why he was able to come back this time, Kenny frowned. This was a tale Kenny had already heard. He’d found it interesting and satisfying at first, but now he just thought it was annoying and unrealistic. “So after I told him I was going to take the days off they owed me for my overtime shifts and holidays, the asshole of my manager said, 'Good luck finding a new job because you are fired.'" Kevin put on an annoying voice so his listeners would have no doubt that his manager was unbearable and the villain in his story. Then he continued. "But he didn’t know the owner was right behind him and heard him being such a dick. The boss told him I was, in fact, taking the whole summer and he would have to cover for me, and if he didn’t like it, he was the one who was going to be fired.” He finished his tale, amused. “Oh, the owner sounds so nice,” said Butters. “He is, most of the time. He recognizes I do more than my share, but he likes me better because I helped his daughter when she was being harassed in the bar. I took two hits to the face for her. I didn’t know she was his daughter; I just thought I would hate for someone to bother Karen like that, so I intervened.” “Wow.” Butters made a silent clapping motion, and Kenny finally had enough. “Butters,” he said to get his friend's attention. “Let’s go to my room. I want to show you the baseball ball I told you about the other day." “Oh, okay,” Butters said, sounding sad because he would have to stop hearing Kevin’s monologue. He was so sad that he didn’t make a move to stand up, so Kenny had to take him by the hand and drag him to his room. The first 10 minutes in his room, Kenny thought he had successfully got back Butters’ attention, but then to Kenny’s irritation, Butters started to talk about Kevin. “Kevin has—changed a lot, hasn’t he?” he said, making it evident that he hadn’t heard anything Kenny had said until that moment. “No, he’s the same as always,” Kenny answered with a frown, trying to sound normal but unable to control the jealousy consuming him. Luckily, or not, Butters was too focused on Kevin to care about Kenny’s emotions. Butters hummed. “Well, maybe it’s because I haven’t seen him in a long time. He just looks more, I don’t know, mature.” Kenny averted his gaze so Butters wouldn't notice how his frown deepened. He took a slow breath to calm down and told himself that whatever Butters was feeling was only momentary. His friend was just impressionable, and Kevin had become a commendable young adult. Kenny was also proud of his brother. That was clear to anyone who spoke with him, but now he was finding his brother annoying. Loving his own brother was one thing, but Butters loving his brother was an entirely different matter. “Hey,” Kenny took Butters' hands to again get his friend's full attention. “Tomorrow can we leave Stan house early, and, I don’t know, go to eat ice cream only the both of us? I don’t want to have the others talking on my ear all day.” Butters looked at their intertwined hands before nodding. “Sure. I’ll bring the chocolates my mom gave me last week. We can share them without worrying about Eric eating them all.” “Then it’s a date,” Kenny said with a hint of playfulness. Butters snorted. “A date, yeah.” Kenny would have liked to say that his 'date' with Butters went so well that Butters was finally seeing him in a different light. But to his utter disgrace, he was still just a good friend to Butters, maybe his best friend, but still only a friend. He was planning to ask him to be his boyfriend this summer, but only if he was sure Butters would say yes; he didn't want to make things awkward between them. So, he would have to be patient. At first, he had assumed he was lucky to convince Butters to spend most of his days at his house after his summer job. This assumption held until that afternoon, when, after taking a shower following a grueling six-hour shift hauling crates at the local warehouse, he got out to find Butters already in his living room. And then, I just told the guy, 'Look, if you want the engine to turn, you gotta actually put oil in it,'" Kevin said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, his bike keys dangling from his hand. He was dressed to go out, clean jeans, a shirt without holes, striking that effortless "older guy" pose. Butters was perched on the edge of the recliner, leaning so far forward he was practically falling off. "Gee, Kevin, you sure do know a lot about everything. I wouldn't even know where the oil goes!" Kenny frowned again and felt like screaming. When Butters looked at Kenny, there was warmth and comfort. But when he looked at Kevin, his pupils dilated, his posture straightened, and he looked dazzled. It was "more" of everything. More light in his eyes, more frantic nodding, more desperate seeking of approval. "It’s just common sense, kid," Kevin said, giving a small, dismissive shrug. The he checked his phone. "Anyway, I gotta go. Meeting some guys at the bar." "You are not 21 yet," Kenny complained, so Kevin stopped bragging. But Kevin chuckled. "Like that has ever stopped me." "Oh! Well, have a real nice time!" Butters chirped, his voice reaching a pitch he never used with Kenny. Kevin glanced at them, nodding curtly. "See ya. Catch you on the flip side, Ken." He didn't wait for an answer before strolling out the door. He didn't care about Butters' admiration; he just accepted it like a small tip left on a table, something expected, but not worth staying for. "I wish I had that same vibe," Butters sighed. "He's just Kevin, Butters," Kenny snapped, his voice coming out harsher than intended. "I work a part-time job too, you know. I actually worked overtime today. And if you want to get drunk, we can do it too. It's not that hard to get alcohol." "Oh, I know, Kenny! And you're real hardworking," Butters said, but his eyes were already wandering toward the window, watching Kevin’s retreating figure. "It’s just—Kevin’s seen so much of the world. College and all." Kenny felt a dark cloud over him. He was the one who was here. A few days later, Kenny’s shift ended twenty minutes early. He biked home fast, chest heaving, excited to surprise Butters by arriving first. But as he was about to enter the house, he heard voices. "So, you really think I could learn to fix a bike?" "Sure, Butters. It’s not rocket science. Just takes a bit of grease." Kenny froze. Through the screen door, he saw Butters and Kevin chatting. He hadn't arrived yet. He wasn't supposed to be home for another half hour, but Butters was already there. He wasn't waiting for Kenny on the porch like usual. He was inside, standing in the living room while Kevin made a sandwich in the kitchen. Butters hadn't just come early, he had come for Kevin. Kenny felt a hot, prickling sensation behind his eyes just before tears welled up, blurring his vision with salt. He stayed hidden behind the corner of the house, watching his brother casually chat with his best friend. Kevin looked bored, clearly just passing the time until his own plans started, but to Butters, this was the highlight of the day. Kenny rarely allowed himself to want anything, wanting was a luxury for people who had money. He was an expert in deprivation, conditioned from birth to expect nothing. Not enough food to ever have leftovers, not clothes without holes, not a life with a semblance of ease. Poverty had taught him that everything, even the love of some people, had a price tag. Yet he knew, with a certainty that was both his salvation and his torment, that Butters’ love wasn't for sale. If it existed at all, it was the one thing that couldn't be bought, the one pure thing that might be given to him not for what he could pay, but for who he was. So he dared. For the first time, Kenny dared to want something with his whole, bruised heart. He dared to love Butters, to ache for him, to dream of claiming him as his own. Not as a borrowed comfort, but as a possession in the most sacred sense, something finally, irrevocably his. This yearning was more than desire; it was a rebellion against a lifetime of lack. And the cruelest joke of all was watching the very "stuff" he craved, the love, the attention, the simple right to be cherished, be handed carelessly to Kevin. Kevin, who hadn't earned it, who didn't fight for it, who didn't even want it. It was being offered to someone who would treat it as an afterthought, while Kenny, who would have treasured it like a lifeline, stood on the sidelines. He waited five minutes, listening to them and recomposing himself, then walked up the steps, making sure to step heavily so they'd hear him coming. "Oh! Kenny! You’re early!" Butters said, jumping slightly. He looked guilty for a split second, but then his face broke into that same wide, dazzled smile. "I was just—I was looking for you and Kevin let me in! We were havin' the grandest talk." "Yeah," Kenny said, his heart feeling like lead. "I bet." The 'coincidental' meetings were becoming a routine that made Kenny’s stomach turn. Every day, Kenny would finish his shift, rush home, and find Butters already there. Sometimes sitting on the porch with Kevin, sometimes hovering in the kitchen while Kevin got ready to leave. "Oh, hey Kenny! You're just in time," Butters would say, but his eyes wouldn't leave Kevin until the older boy left the room. Kenny tried to pivot. He decided if he couldn't keep Kevin out of the house, he’d keep Butters out of it. "Hey, Butters, let's go down to the Stark’s Pond today," Kenny suggested one afternoon, blocking the doorway to the living room where he knew Kevin was napping on the sofa. "I found a cool spot behind the bushes. We can just hang out there. No one to bother us." Butters bit his lip, casting a longing glance toward the sofa. "Oh, well, I was hopin' to ask Kevin about that community college stuff again. He was tellin' me about the programs and—" "He’s sleeping," Kenny said firmly, grabbing Butters’ arm and steering him toward the street. "Come on. I bought some beef jerky with my paycheck." For a few days, it worked, mostly. They sat by the pond, but the conversation was lopsided. Kenny would talk about his day, and Butters would nod distractedly, eventually circling back to the same topic. "Does Kevin ever talk about me when I'm not around?" Butters asked, poking a stick into the mud. Kenny felt a surge of jealousy so sharp it was almost physical. "No. Why would he? He thinks about work and beer and his friends. He doesn’t have time for—kids." "Oh. I guess that makes sense," Butters murmured, looking dejected. But the dejection didn't last. It turned into a quiet, stubborn curiosity. The breaking point came on a Tuesday. Butters arrived at Kenny's house early, but to his bad luck, Kenny was already there. So when Kenny tried to lead Butters away, Butters had to be direct and tell him in a firm voice, "I don't want to go to the park. I want to talk to Kevin." "He's not home," Kenny snapped. "And why do you want to talk to him? You're supposed to be hanging out with me." "I am hanging out with you! You made sure I only hung out with you the whole week," Butters finally lashed out, making it clear that he'd noticed Kenny meddling in his friendship with Kevin. "But I like Kevin, too. And you keep actin' all weird whenever I ask about him. You say he’s busy or that he doesn’t care about us 'cause we're kids, but when I talk to him, he's real nice!" "He’s just being polite!" "I don't think that's it. I think he likes me too." Kenny snorted. "He doesn't like you. Just forget about him." "I can't!" Butters was furious now. "And why can't you?" Kenny knew the answer. He knew that by asking, he was about to hear the one thing he dreaded most. Yet, he had to ask. He couldn't stand the situation for a second longer. Butters breathed slowly, clutching his hands together. "I-I, well, I— think—I think I might be in love with him, Kenny. Real love. Like in the movies." The world seemed to stop spinning. Kenny felt like he had been punched in the gut. All the hours he’d spent protecting Butters, and Butters was throwing his heart at the one person Kenny couldn't compete with. "You’re not in love with him," Kenny hissed, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low growl. "Yes, I am! He’s so intelligent, and he’s brave, and he’s got a nice smile—" "And he doesn't want you!" Kenny screamed. Then he didn't think. He just let the bitterness pour out. He realized he was tired of being the 'good friend' who was just lucky to be there. He was tired of sharing. If he couldn't have Butters' admiration, then he would make sure Kevin didn't have it either. "You want to know the truth?" Kenny said with a serious voice. "Kevin told me you’re a bore. He told me you’re an obnoxious little kid who doesn't know when to leave. He only puts up with you because I'm his brother and he feels sorry for me for having such a clingy friend." Butters flinched as if Kenny had struck him. His face went pale, his lower lip beginning to tremble. "He-he said that?" "He says it every night," Kenny lied, stepping closer, looming over Butters. "He laughs about it. He calls you a 'nuisance.' That’s why I tried to keep you away. I was trying to save you from the embarrassment, Butters. I didn't want you to know how much he actually hates having you around." A second of silence passed before Butters let out a small, broken sob, covering his face with his hands. "I-I thought we were friends. I thought he liked talkin' to me." "He was just being 'nice' because he had to," Kenny whispered, reaching out and pulling the sobbing boy into a hug. He felt a dark, twisted sense of triumph. "It’s okay. I’m here. I’m the only one who actually wants you here, Butters. You don't need him." Butters buried his face in Kenny’s orange parka, crying loudly. "Thank you, Kenny—thank you for tellin' me the truth. I'm so sorry I was such a bother." Kenny stroked Butters' hair. He wasn't happy that he'd made Butters cry, but at the same time, he didn't regret his words at all. Butters was his, and everything was going to be fine now. Some days later Kenny was sitting on the floor of the living room, mindlessly clicking through channels on the TV, when the front door swung open. Kevin walked in, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on the empty spot where Butters usually sat. "Hey," Kevin said, tossing his work jacket onto the nearest couch. "Where’s Butters? He hasn’t been around for a few days." Kenny didn't look up, keeping his voice casual. "Butters? I don't know. Probably home doing chores." "That’s weird," Kevin muttered, opening the fridge to grab a beer. "He told me he wanted me to show him how to patch a bike's inner tube. I figured he’d come sometime this week, waiting on the porch an hour early, vibrating like a hummingbird." Kevin laughed softly at the mental image. “I like him.” Kenny’s heart skipped a beat. He gripped the remote a little tighter. He hadn't expected Kevin to actually notice, let alone care, Butters wasn't around. Usually, Kevin just moved through the house like everyone else was background noise. "I thought you’d find him annoying. Like my other friends," Kenny said, trying to sound indifferent. "I mean, he's a bit much sometimes, but he's a good kid," Kevin said, leaning against the doorframe. There was a softness in his eyes a look of real fondness that Kenny had rarely seen directed at anyone but Karen. "He’s funny. And he’s nice to have around, honestly. Way better than that fatass Cartman or your other friends who act like they're too cool to breathe. Butters actually listens when you talk." Panic flared in Kenny’s chest, hot and sharp. Kenny’s whole life had been a series of hand-me-downs. He looked down at his own sleeves, the fabric was thin and the cuffs were frayed, a shirt Kevin had worn three years ago. His jeans were Kevin’s. His shoes were Kevin’s. Even his bed had once been Kevin’s. He had watched his mother scrounge to find "new" things for Karen, dresses from thrift bins or hand-me-ups from neighbors, and Kenny had never complained. He was happy Karen had things of her own. He didn't mind the stiff denim or the oversized coats because they were just things. He remembered a flash of a memory from years ago. Finding a discarded, half-melted Hershey bar in a theater parking lot. He hadn't eaten it himself. He had run home, sat on the floor, and carefully broken it in three to share the treat with Kevin and Karen. He had always shared. He had always taken the smaller half. But not this. Not Butters. Butters wasn't a shirt or a piece of candy. He was the only thing in the world that made Kenny feel like he wasn't just a shadow. The idea that Kevin was seeing the value in Butters, that Kevin might want him to share the one bright spot in Kenny's life, made him want to scream. He had to do something. "Yeah, well—" Kenny let out a long, heavy sigh, letting the remote drop to the floor. He turned to look at Kevin, his expression carefully crafted to look pained and embarrassed. "I don't think he’s coming back here, Kev." Kevin’s brow furrowed. "Why? Did you have a fight?" "No," Kenny whispered, looking down at his worn-out sneakers. "It was—it was Butters. We were talking the other day, and he told me he likes me—that I’m his best friend and all—but he just can’t stand coming over here anymore." Kevin paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. "What do you mean?" "He said the house makes him feel 'sick,'" Kenny lied, the words tasting like lead. "That it's dirty and he’s tired of smelling like ‘old trash’ every time he leaves. He said he loves hanging out with me, but only if it’s at the mall or the park. Somewhere —'cleaner.'" As he spoke, Kenny managed to convey the authentic sadness of someone who had truly heard those words, because, in a way, he had. Not from Butters, but that didn't mean they hurt any less. Kevin stared at him, his face going pale first then red with anger. "He said that? Butters?” Kenny nodded. Kevin stood still for a long time. The disbelief was clear on his face. It didn't fit the Butters he knew. But then he looked around the kitchen. He saw the peeling wallpaper and the general layer of grime they could never quite scrub away. His insecurity, the one he fought every day, flared up; making him instantly dislike Butters. Also, he trusted Kenny. Why would his little brother lie about something that clearly hurt him so much to say? "I guess I was wrong about him," Kevin said, his voice flat and cold. "I'm sorry," Kenny said softly. "I didn't want to talk about it." "What are you sorry about? It's not your fault," Kevin snapped, his jaw set tight. He reached into his pocket to check the time on his phone, but his hand came back empty—he’d smashed it at the garage a week ago and hadn't been able to afford a replacement yet. He cursed under his breath. "Whatever. If he’s that shallow, he’s not the kind of person you should be hanging around either, Ken. You deserve better friends than that brat." "He's not a brat," Kenny said, turning back to the TV so Kevin wouldn't see the dark gleam of victory in his eyes, or the anger flaring because Kevin had called Butters a brat. "He's right about the house being a dump. I forced him to come and spend time with me here. I basically forced him to tell me those things." Kevin sighed. "Kenny, that's not right. You deserve better." "I'm going to be better," Kenny said, looking back at Kevin. "Like you." There was such determination in Kenny's voice that Kevin put a hand on his shoulder and told him he was proud of him. He meant it, even though he still thought Kenny needed to pick better friends. Kevin then stomped off toward his room, the floorboards groaning under his weight. Kenny felt uneasy, but he didn't regret his words. He would never share Butters. For the next weeks of summer, Kenny lived in a world of his own making. He and Butters, spent their days at the outskirts of town, or by the creek where the grass grew tall enough to hide them from the rest of South Park. It was exactly what Kenny had wanted. No Stan, no Kyle, no Eric, and definitely no older brother. Butters was quieter than usual, though. Sometimes, while they were skipping stones or sharing a bag of cheap chips, Butters would gaze off toward the road, his expression drooping into something small and hurt. Kenny knew exactly what he was thinking about. He was thinking about the ‘mean things’ Kevin supposedly said. "Hey," Kenny said, nudging Butters’ shoulder with his own. "You’re doing it again." Butters blinked, coming back to reality. "Oh. Sorry, Kenny. I’m just—I’m still just so embarrassed. I can’t believe I was such a nuisance to your brother. I feel like a real goose." Kenny felt again the twinge of guilt mixed with cero regrets. "You aren't a nuisance to me. You’re the best part of my day. Who cares what Kevin thinks?" Butters looked at him, his eyes shimmering with that familiar, naive gratitude. "You’re real good to me, Kenny. I don't know what I’d do without ya. I guess you’re the only one who really sees me for who I am." "That's right," Kenny whispered. "Just me." He reached out and took Butters’ hand. Before summer, their touches were brief, a high-five, a shove, a quick pull out of a car's way. Now, Kenny was determined to be different. He laced their fingers together, feeling the soft skin of Butters' palm. Butters didn’t pull away. In fact, he squeezed back and leaned his head against Kenny’s shoulder. As the sun began to dip, painting the sky in bruised purples and golds, Kenny turned his head. Butters was looking up at him, his face just inches away. Kenny leaned in. He could smell the laundry detergent on Butters’ shirt and the faint scent of the sun on his skin. He watched Butters’ eyelashes flutter. Kenny’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. This was it. This was the moment he had dreamed of. The moment they would finally cross the line. He could almost feel the phantom pressure of a kiss. Butters’ cheeks went a bright, hot pink, the heat radiating off him so strongly Kenny could feel it against his own skin. Butters didn't close his eyes, though; he just stared at Kenny, breathless and wide-eyed, his mouth slightly parted in a silent "oh." Kenny stopped just an inch away. He didn't want to rush it. He wanted to savor the fact that Butters was letting him be this close. He wanted to enjoy the fact that he was finally making Butters’ heart race. "Leo," Kenny breathed. "Let's go back home. It is getting cold." Butters let out a shaky little breath and tucked his chin, hiding his glowing face against Kenny’s parka. "Oh, yeah, it's also getting late. Don't want dad to get mad and ground me." Kenny caressed Butters' cheek before standing up and helping him to his feet. They held hands before they reached the street, and as they walked, Kenny felt like the luckiest, happiest person in the world. He wished the feeling would last forever. The South Park mall buzzed with the energy of a Tuesday afternoon. Kenny walked close to Butters, his shoulder occasionally brushing the other boy’s. He had a few crumpled bills in his pocket, enough for two sodas and maybe a shared pretzel, and was just about to ask if Butters wanted some, when Butters spoke up brightly. “Oh, look, Kenny! They’ve got the new Terrance and Phillip figurines!” Butters pressed his face against the toy store’s glass, his breath fogging the pane. Kenny smiled, leaning against the wall. “Maybe I’ll get you one for your birthday.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Butters chirped, turning back with a rosy glow. “Just walkin’ around with you is treat enough.” It was then when Kenny saw a familiar mop of brown hair. His heart did a sickening drop. Kevin was there, standing with two of his local friends near the fountain. They were laughing. Kenny tried to steer Butters toward the department store exit, but it was too late. Kevin’s eyes scanned the crowd and locked onto them. Kevin said something to his friends, and they started walking over. Kenny’s grip on Butters’ arm tightened. “Hey, let’s go to the theater side, I think I saw Eric over there and I don’t want to deal with him.” “What? Oh, but I wanted to see the—oh.” Butters stopped mid-sentence. He had seen Kevin. His entire posture changed instantly, the warmth vanished, replaced by a stiff posture. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, trying to look tough, but his eyes darted to the floor. “Hey, Ken,” Kevin said as he approached. He looked at Kenny with genuine concern, but when his gaze shifted to Butters, it turned icy. “Surprised to see you here, Butters. I figured the mall wasn't ‘refined’ enough for your tastes anymore.” Butters flinched, his head snapping up. The hurt in his eyes flickered into a sharp, defensive anger. “Well, I’m just here with Kenny. I didn’t know I had to ask your permission to be here.” Kevin looked at Kenny, his eyes saying, 'Why are you still hanging out with this brat after what he said about us?' But aloud, he just sighed. "We were heading to the food court for ice cream and sodas. You guys want in? My treat." "No thanks, we're—" Kenny started, already trying to pull Butters away. "I’d love some," Butters interrupted, his voice dripping with a sarcasm that didn't fit his face. "I’d just love to see how the big college man spends his hard-earned money." Kenny’s blood ran cold. "Butters, let's just go—" "No, Kenny," Butters said, stepping toward Kevin. "I want to hear about Kevin's last days here. He always sounds so fascinating." Kevin frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately, it seemed he didn't care to fight with a kid, so he just ignored Butters. Five minutes later, they were sitting at a plastic table. Kevin’s friends had wandered off to a nearby shop. Kevin sat across from them, nursing a soda, his eyes narrowed at Butters. "So, Butters," Kevin said, his voice tight. He wasn't holding back anymore. If Kenny wasn't capable of defending himself, he, as his big brother, had the duty to protect him. "How’s life in your nice house?" Butters flinched, but he didn't back down. "My house is just fine, thank you. In there, no one talks about anyone behind their backs, so it's pretty nice." Kevin scoffed, looking at Kenny briefly before going back to Butters. “I'm going to stop beating around the bush. I don’t know why you’re still fluttering around Kenny. I told him he shouldn't waste your time with people who don't respect him.” "Kevin!" Kenny tried to stop him, but the older boy raised a hand to make him shut up. “I respect Kenny just fine!” Butters snapped, his voice trembling. “He’s a way better friend than you are as a person. He doesn’t go around tellin’ people I’m a ‘nuisance’ behind my back, just because you think you're all that for going to college.” Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “A nuisance? Kid, you’re the one who suddenly said our house is too dirty. You are a little brat," Kevin hissed, leaning over the table. "I work forty hours a week and go to school at night. I didn't have everything handed to me on a silver platter like you did. It’s not my fault I’m poor, and it’s not my fault I have to work to keep myself afloat while you sit around in your polished shoes judging people. You can think whatever you want about me, but don't you go around saying shit to my brother. Not when he's too nice to stand up to you.” “I never said that!” Butters shouted, a few shoppers turning to stare. The air between them turned electric with hostility. Kenny felt like he was standing on a landmine, his lies about to come to light. “Hey, hey! Let’s just—Butters, let’s just go.” "No!" Butters snapped, his voice sharp. "You act like you're so commendable, takin' hits for people at bars, but you're just a hypocrite! You told me you liked talkin' to me, and then you went and told Kenny I was a stalker? You're pathetic!" Kevin let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “I never called you a stalker, but maybe I should have. You’ve got a real attitude problem, Butters. You need a serious reality check so you stop being a snob.” “I am not a snob!” Butters cried, tears of frustration pricking his eyes. “And yes, you did. I know about it. Kenny told me you said it.” Kevin froze. His eyes shifted from Butters’ tear-streaked face to Kenny’s pale, wide-eyed expression. The gears were starting to turn. “Wait,” Kevin said, his voice dropping to a dangerously quiet level. “What exactly did Kenny tell you?” The air in the mall food court felt like it had been sucked out by a vacuum. Kevin was staring at Kenny, his eyes narrowing. Butters looked at Kenny, at first startled and then frightened by the sudden thought he had. “He told me,” Butters whispered, his voice trembling with dawning realization, “that you called me a nuisance. He said you only put up with me because you felt sorry for him.” Kevin’s face went from confusion to a cold, hard anger. He looked at Kenny, then back at Butters. “And he told me that you thought we were dirty. That you were embarrassed to be seen at our house.” Butters’ jaw dropped. “I never! I would never say that, Kevin! I-I love being at your house. I love talking to you! In fact—” He took a shaky breath, looking at the floor before blurting it out. “In fact, I’m in love with you, Kevin! That’s why I was always there! I was so sad you were leaving for college that I just wanted every minute I could get!” Kevin blinked, the anger momentarily stunned out of him. He looked at the sixteen-year-old boy in front of him, the boy who was vibrating with raw, honest emotion. Then he looked at Kenny. Seeing his brother looking utterly destroyed, he finally put the pieces together. The situation was so astonishing, so ridiculous, and so sad. It was incredibly disappointing. “Butters,” Kevin said, his voice softening but remaining firm. “I didn’t know that. I never called you a nuisance. But about your feelings, I'm older than you—it’s just not right. I liked you, kid. Like a friend. I enjoyed the time we spent together.” Then he ran a hand through his hair, almost pulling it, and looked at Kenny. He wanted to scold him because 'what the hell was his brother thinking?' Whatever was going through his head, Kevin sometimes forgot that Kenny was just a teenager, more of a stupid kid who probably thought, whatever he thought, that Kevin was going to say something different when Butters came and confessed his feelings. The silence that followed was deafening. Butters was at first hurt by the rejection, but that was to be expected. He had just given it a shot because why not. But what was not expected was Kenny’s behavior. He turned his head slowly toward Kenny, his eyes filling with tears of betrayal. “Kenny? Why? Why would you tell those awful lies?” Kenny felt the walls closing in. The "peace" he had built was crumbling into dust under the fluorescent mall lights. The scarcity, the hunger, and the years of wearing Kevin’s old clothes and eating Kevin’s leftovers finally boiled over. “Because you’re mine!” Kenny screamed, the force of it making people at nearby tables jump. Then he looked at his brother. “Everything in my life is a hand-me-down, Kevin! My clothes, my bed, my toys—I’ve spent my whole life taking whatever didn't fit you anymore! And Butters was the only thing that was mine! And then you had to have his love first, too!” He turned to Butters, his eyes wild and desperate. “He was taking you away from me! You used to look at me like I was everything, and then he comes back for one summer and suddenly I’m just nothing! I couldn't let him have you! I’m tired of sharing! I’m fucking tired of having nothing for myself!” “I’m not a thing, Kenny!” Butters shouted back, his face contorted in anger. “I’m a person! You don't 'own' me! How could you be so mean? You made me feel like I was garbage just so you could keep me all for yourself?” Kevin stepped forward, his expression one of deep, cutting disappointment. He looked at his little brother. The brother he had tried to protect, the brother he had shared everything with, but whom he had failed. “Ken—I didn’t know you felt like this. All this time, I—” “Fuck off, Kevin!” Kenny spat, his voice cracking. “And it's not just about how I feel. You’re twenty! He’s sixteen! It’s just wrong, anyway! I did you a favor! To both of you. I was helping you not look like a creep and you,” he looked at Butters, “to not make a fool of yourself, like you always do!” Kevin sighed, rubbing his face. He looked exhausted and worried because people had stopped their shopping to look at them. “God, you’re being so dramatic. I already told him, I only see him as a friend. But what you did—that was just selfish, Ken. It was cruel. We need to take this to Mom and Dad, maybe some counselor.” “I hate you,” Kenny whispered. “I hate both of you. How you both make me feel.” Butters stepped back, shaking his head. “I don’t—I don’t even know what I feel about you. I don’t think it's good for us to keep being friends.” Kenny finally snapped out of it and realized he had lost. His happy world was gone, and he was standing in the middle of the debris, still wearing Kevin’s old shirt, still the poor kid with nothing. He couldn't live in a world where they looked at him like this. He couldn't live with the memory of this failure. He needed to hit a restart button. He needed to undo it all. The noise of the mall, the fountain, the distant pop music, the chatter of shoppers, all felt like a physical weight pressing against Kenny’s chest. Butters was looking at him with a gaze so full of loathing it felt like a knife. Kevin was looking at him with pity. Kenny backed away, his back hitting the cold metal of the third-floor railing, and he had a crazy but brilliant idea. He looked at Butters and Kevin one last time. In this version of the world, he was the villain. In this version, he had lost Butters. But he didn't have to live in this version. "This is going to hurt," Kenny whispered. “But I’m used to it. And it's worth it.” Then, before anyone could move, Kenny hoisted himself over the railing. He didn't scream. He just let gravity take him. There was a sickening, momentary rush of wind, a distant shout from Butters, and then a sudden, jarring crunch that ended everything in a flash of white heat and silence. Kenny gasped, his lungs burning as they filled with air. The first thing he smelled wasn't mall pretzels or floor wax. It was the familiar, stale scent of the McCormick house, burnt toast and old grease. He was resting on his bed. Sunlight streamed through the dirty window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. "Morning, Ken," Kevin said casually when Kenny entered the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, chewing on a piece of dry toast, looking completely normal. “You hungry?” “Morning,” Kenny said. He stared at Kevin, his heart slowing down as a smile crept onto his face. Kevin didn’t remember the mall. He didn’t remember the confrontation; otherwise, he would have remembered that Kenny committed suicide, and no one ever remembers him dying or anything surrounding his deaths. “I’m hungry.” "Well, eat up. I gotta head to the garage for my shift," Kevin said, standing up and grabbing his keys. "I'll be back late. Don't let Mom and Dad kill each other while I'm gone. And tell Karen to stay at home more often. I know she has a ton of friends and prefers to spend time at their houses, but I’m leaving to go back to school soon and I want to spend even just a day with her." Kenny watched him leave. He felt a surge of cold, calculated power. It had worked. But even so, he knew this wasn’t something he could do ad infinitum. Now he knew exactly where the pitfalls were. He just had to be more careful. He had to be more subtle. And with Kevin leaving for college soon, the window of danger was almost closed. He didn't waste any time. He headed straight to the town park, where he knew Butters would be wandering. He found him near the duck pond, looking exactly as he always did: innocent, cheerful, and blissfully unaware of the deceit. "Butters!" Kenny called out. "Oh, hey there, Kenny!" Butters beamed, waving a hand. "I was just hopin' you'd show up. It's a real nice day, isn't it?" Kenny didn't wait for small talk. He walked right up to Butters, taking both of his hands in his. He felt the warmth of Butters’ skin and felt a possessive thrill. This was his. He had died to keep this. "Butters, listen to me," Kenny said, his voice low and intense. "I've been thinking about what happened the other day—by the creek. And I don't want to wait anymore. I love you. I want you to be my boyfriend." Butters blinked, his smile faltering into a look of confusion and slight weariness. He looked at their intertwined hands, then up at Kenny’s hooded face. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, indecipherable. "Oh—gee, Kenny," Butters murmured. "Boyfriends? I—I don't know. I mean, we're such good friends and all, and I—" "I’ll take care of you, Butters," Kenny interrupted, stepping closer, closing the gap. "I’ll love you forever. You're the best thing in my life. Please?" Butters looked around the park, then back at Kenny. He looked small. He looked like he didn't have the energy to say no to the person who was always there. "Well—alright, Kenny. If it'll make you that happy—I guess—no, I’m sure I love you, too." Kenny leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't the magical, perfect moment he had imagined by the creek. Butters’ lips were stiff, and he didn't lean into it. When they pulled apart, Butters gave him a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was a polite, weary smile—the kind you give to a persistent child. Kenny didn't care. He watched Butters talk about what they should do for the rest of the afternoon, his voice a steady drone of nervous energy. Kenny felt no regret. He didn't care that he had lied, or that he had manipulated the fabric of reality itself. Two days later, he stood on the porch and watched Kevin pull out of the driveway, his car packed for college. Kevin honked and shouted a "see you" that got lost in the wind. Kenny waved back, but his eyes were already on the street that led to Butters' house. He had finally won something that didn't belong to anyone else before, and he was going to hold onto it until the world ended.