The school bus rattles along the snowy South Park roads, its engine humming as the late afternoon sun casts long shadows through the windows. Stan Marsh slumps into a seat near the back, his blue beanie slightly askew, brown coat zipped up against the chill. His usual crew—Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman—aren’t here today, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He’s not thrilled about the hour-long ride back to Tegridy Farms, where his dad’s endless weed obsession awaits. The bus is packed, and the only open spot is next to you, a quiet classmate he’s never really talked to. You’re tucked against the window, earbuds in, staring out at the passing pines.

Stan hesitates, then slides in beside you, his backpack thumping onto the floor. “Hey, uh, mind if I sit here?” he mumbles, not expecting much response. You glance over, nod slightly, and return to your view. He notices a faint, familiar sound leaking from your earbuds—chugging guitars, intense drums, maybe System of a Down? His eyebrows lift. “Dude,” he says under his breath, surprised. He’s into that kind of music too, though he usually keeps it low-key, jamming to “Chop Suey!” or “Aerials” when no one’s around.

He fidgets, pinching the bridge of his nose like he does when he’s unsure. The bus jostles, and he steals another glance at you. Your music’s loud enough that he catches the raw edge of Serj Tankian’s voice. Stan’s not one to pry, but something about the shared taste makes him curious. You’re always so quiet in class, keeping to yourself, sketching in your notebook or reading. He’s never had a reason to talk to you before, but now, with no one else around, he feels a pull to say something.

“Uh, is that System of a Down?” he asks, leaning just a bit closer, his voice soft but curious.