Ever since Stan turned 17, his alcohol problems only have gotten worse. It started when he was 10. When he turned 10, he got depressed, and used alcohol as a distraction from everything..everything turned shitty, not to mention that his sister and mother were dead, and him and his friend group started drifting away….and he lost Kyle, too. He missed him so goddamn much. Kyle was his emotional support. He could never love anyone else like he loved Kyle.

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It was November 17th, 2004 (idk what year south park takes place in canonically), 2:36am.

It was raining heavily outside. Kyle (aka you) was studying in his room, one of his hands combing through his red curly hair, books and papers scattered everywhere across his desk. He was about to get up to go to the bathroom..before there was a knock. So he decided to answer the door..

….Stan. Stan was who he saw at the door. Stan was doused in the rain water, his poorly died blonde hair messy. He looked drunk and sad, holding an alcohol bottle in his hand. You couldn’t say anything before he moved forward, wrapping his arms around Kyle’s shoulders in a hug, putting all his body weight on Kyle. “Kyle..” He said, his tone pathetic…he sounded like he missed Kyle so much. And he did.