I Need a Date
Author's Note: Ahh, I'm actually posting something, eh? Well, since it's been so long, I am not at my best right now, so I'm sorry if it sucks. xD; Uh. Warnings, if you don't like perversion, foul language, or lesbianism, I suggest you press Go Back right now. People who know me should know that the pairing is of my OTP.
Everyone wanted Bebe. It wasn't uncommon to think "Boy I'd like to tap that" or "She's so hot, I'm sweating here" or even "I'd do her… right here, right now" just by looking at her. Actually, it'd almost be murder not to think that if you were into girls… well, even if you weren't into girls. Only the best of the best dated Bebe. They were all A) hot, B) rich, C) athletic, and D) someone who reminded her constantly of her good looks.
Bebe instantly knew this as soon as she hit her preteen years. Boys young and old came to her even in the sixth grade. (Those pervs.) But when she brought this up with her mom, she had found out many, many things. She learned to use it to her advantage. And that…is a very, very good thing. So ever since a young age, she started manipulating men the way she wanted. Nearly every night she came home with shopping bags, a full stomach, and hickeys. Lots of them.
By fifteen, Bebe was no longer a virgin, and was immediately the sex symbol of the school (not that she wasn't before, but it was more so now). But she wasn't a slut, oh no. She hadn't forgotten about the lessons she had learned from her mother. She wasn't some dumb blonde, you know. There was still the gifts she needed to receive, and of course the feeling of control itself. In relationships, it almost seemed as if she wore the pants if you looked really, really hard into it. But most wouldn't even look that far into anyway. The guys were just in it 'cause of bragging rights. She knew what to expect, and figured out how to twist their thoughts.
This time, more than any other, Bebe was smart. This time, she knew. This time, she knew it would be a different guy. This time, she figured out how she was going to get the right guy. Auditioning.
…Yeah. That's right. Auditioning.
So here she was, sixteen-year-old Bebe Stevens. She was just sitting there behind a plastic fold-up table after school on campus grounds. Oh, and a whole line of students that were auditioning. Her eyes scanned the line in surprise. She hadn't expected this many people to come after school when she was posting up the little paper notice on the bulletin board. It's almost as if people were spreading the word like wild fire during the morning. …Hm, was she really that popular?
In an instant, her body tensed. She didn't wanna be known as some bimbo blonde!
I guess it's too late for that now… she thought. I hope there are a few good guys in here at least… like I hoped.
"Uh, okay, here we go," Bebe muttered to no one in a panicky voice, brushing the blonde hair in her face behind her right ear. "Ah, audition entry number one?"
The line got a little quieter as the first person in line realized that it was his turn. In almost a nervous attitude, he was away from her just a few yards. Now she had a better look at him. His blonde hair was a bonus. (She always had a thing for blondes and red heads.) And his nervous persona made her… wait a minute.
"Butters… Stotch?" Bebe said out loud.
"Uh…uh yeah?" Butters replied innocently. She didn't know whether she wanted to wince or giggle at his cute shy nature.
"Um…" she started, "err… you want to be my boyfriend?"
"That—that is correct; y-yeah…" he nodded. "You are r-really pretty."
She almost blushed. Too bad she heard that many a time before. She smiled in a soft way to him, almost sarcastically. He started continuing on how he always admired her, and how beautiful she was. She hardly was paying attention. She glanced down at the paper under her nose. Bebe picked up the pencil and quickly jotted down: 1) Butters. He's much, much, much too sweet, although gullible. Which is a good thing. A little too easy, but seems easy enough to give all attention and support.
She glanced back up and smiled at him again. He paused from his admiration speech and smiled back.
"Thanks, Butters, I think that would be enough," she smiled.
"Oh… oh okay," grinning, he left. "Ah, th-thank you."
She looked back at the line as the next guy—a shy freshman—came into step.
"Hi, uh, you, um, don't really know me, and, um, I don't really know, err, you…" said the guy.
"That's alright, I just need to know your name," she said in as nice and comfortable tone as possible.
"Aw crap, um, it's," he paused, "Alex."
"Hi Alex. …You know my name right?" Bebe asked, worried a little for his own understanding.
Boy is this gonna be a long afternoon… she thought.
The guy that had just auditioned was someone she had a fling with a long time ago, probably in junior high. That wouldn't work out too well, she knew. It never did.
"Number 16?" she called out.
It was already at sixteen? Jeez, there was no guy that stood out so far, other than the ones she already knew what were like. All the answers were the same, even from her ex's. The guys were all the same (okay maybe except for that one guy who was totally emo and was probably crying by now). It was just all the same.
When she looked up to see number sixteen who was coming up, immediately she cried out: "Okay, next!" No way, ever, would she allow this guy to even have a chance with her.
"Oh come on, you fucking ho!" And this came from an overweight guy in a red wrinkled, and not to mention stained, T-shirt, who she knew had the tendency to insult people on a daily basis.
She softly grunted to herself, and then yelled at him, "Cartman! You've been such an asshole to me; do you think that I'd let you have a possible chance of getting into my pants?"
Cartman scowled at her response. He pause after analyzing her for a second. "Damn, you're such a bitch, you know? What? Just 'cause I'm a little big-boned you won't let me audition? That's a whore, that's one big whore, exactly like you."
Bebe squinted at him, and in a loud voice, "Fine! You—"
"No! I've had it with you and you're little girly-girl-bitch friends!" Cartman yelled.
She sighed in an audible tone. "What the hell, Cartman." She knew he wasn't actually gonna do anything. Most people got used to this. Then again, most people, like her, knew him since grade school.
He was already walking away when she was about to make a snide remark. So instead of dealing with the likes of Cartman, who was already long gone, she called for the next person in line. Number seventeen.
"Hey Bebe," said the next guy.
Bebe stuck a bored expression on her face. "Token, you know it's not gonna work out with us again."
"Aw, but I wanted to try," he said, giving her a little smile that made her melt a little on the inside. "And you know how much your parents love me."
"Yeah, but I'm gonna have to make this fair…" she said, lifting her chin a little which made her feel a lot more confident. He nodded, knowing that these were auditions. "I'd like to know," and now in almost a robotic tone, "what are your likes and interests?"
Token let a chuckle out but held most of it in. "Ah, you should know this by now already. But for competition's sake, well… I love to go out and do virtually anything from mall-hopping to rock climbing to arcading. Mainly I like to admire you from afar." He gave a little wink. She really wanted to gag right there, but at the same time go up to him and squish him in a hug. She had to stop this! She already knew what kind of guy he was and the reasons why she shouldn't stay with him, but…
"Okay, Token, that's all I needed to know. I'll tell you later if you made it to the finals," she gave him a half-fake smile.
"Oh I'll count on it," Token smirked her way when he walked backwards.
I would too, she thought to herself. She looked down at her paper to number 17. She reread what she wrote: 17) Token. Ah, too much history. But perfect. Must reconsider.
And that was when she realized that the auditions line was much longer than she thought.
The past two guys took so long taking their time talking, she thought that they should just date each other so that they could chat away. They weren't even that great looking, she reminded herself. The next guy was suave. She didn't really dig Asian guys, but then again, she didn't really dig guys literally competing for her love. Or rather her ass. She shook the thought off. She knew she can weed the bad ones out. They were easy to pick.
It was at number twenty-one, and already so many people who were waiting impatiently in line had left. Ah, Bebe wished she could leave. But then again, it was her idea to have auditions. But screw it. It was going a little less what she had imagined it to be like. She expected few guys, who were actually interested, and perfect, and… you know.
"Wanna get high?"
"Okay,next!" It seemed to come out as one word.
As soon as the towel was out of her face, she slumped in her seat. Okay. This was going relatively worse than she thought. She felt a shadow cast upon her face. Slowly, she looked up at the silhouette (okay that was a little over dramatic; the lighting wasn't that bad to make a perfect shadow).
Bebe stared. And after a few moments, she collected herself, and smirked, "Ah, Wendy… I knew you were gay for me all along. And although you turn me on every time I see you and all, I'm really looking for a guy this time. But remember, you're still my main gal… So don't think of this as rejection, just as—"
"Bebe!" Wendy yelled with annoyance clearly in her face. "I'm not here to audition. That's just stupid. And you know I'm pretty tight with my boyfriend."
"But everyone knows that's going to fail sooner or later," Bebe pointed out with an added waving of her index finger.
"And it'll most likely be later," Wendy rushed angrily, "but we're not here to talk about my problems. We're here for yours." She paused. "This is such a bad idea! You don't know what kind of guys they really are! There are better ways to meet people, I mean… I have a cousin that's available now!"
This made Bebe look up with interest, a glint in her eye, "Is it the red head?"
"No, the brunette," she said blankly.
"Then bah! Leave will you! I'm doing just fine!"
Wendy stared and then turned on her heel. "Fine, I know you're lying. Knowing you."
Augh, this day wasn't going as well as she expected. She regretted this more and more.
She depressingly moaned, "Okay, number 23…"
When the next audition came up, her mind was too clouded by what Wendy was saying. Her best friend seemed to always leave an impact on her. Wendy always did that, seeing that she made her point clear. It was a wonder why Wendy and she were still friends, considering how different they were. Wendy being mature and all, while she… well…
That was something that had been a bit touchy for Bebe for a while now. She had her tendencies to be the classic blonde airhead who only cared about boys. She couldn't help it. Getting what she wanted took a lot out of her, and sometimes she need to be…an airhead. Okay, okay. That didn't make sense, but still! She didn't want to be like Wendy, who even if she got what she wanted, she didn't use seduction. She had—
"Ahem," said a male voice.
She looked up and found the next competit—oh wait, audition in front of her. Looking at him for a while, she shook her head. He scratched his messy blonde hair. (Yay blondes rang in the back of her mind.) After that, he stuck his hands in that orange Hoodie of his. This guy looked familiar. She brushed it off. It wasn't exactly a big city.
"Uh…name?" she asked in a bored tone.
He smiled and simply replied, "Kenny McCormick."
Oh. Now she knew who he was. It was that kid who always died, the one who hang around Cartman and the rest of them. She even remembered him when she hung around those guys when Wendy was dating Stan in middle school. While she was in her thoughts, Kenny had pulled up a chair (actually, more like spun it his way), and sat with the back facing front. He casually let his arms hang on the back rest. Oh yeah, it was then that she remembered the trait of being a pervert. Oh just great.
Then he gave her a smirk that made her look at him in a new light. He was a bit dirty. Maybe he played some ball earlier? Yeah, she liked athletic boys. Then he scratched his head, and some flakes fell out. Okay… maybe he didn't play.
Bebe's hands cupped her face and let it rest there. In the same robotic tone she used for Token, she asked, "Kenny, when you are looking at me right now… what are you thinking?"
Oh this better be good… she thought.
He paused and made a face, like he was questioning what she meant. Then, almost as if he changed his whole personality, he said in a serious tone, "Well, I immediately thought that that skirt should be much shorter," oh no, "because your legs are killer. I always liked legs. It shows how well a girl treats her body. Well, I made that last part up, but maybe it adds points to my score, right?" He gave off a hopeful, yet forcefully cheesy, smile. She couldn't help but laugh, at him and what he said. Then, as she was blushing at his comment about her legs, he continued, "Oh, and, your rack is huge!"
She stared at him.
"Okay, I think that's enough," she said with an aggravated tone.
Kenny started to scram, and after she shooed off the other guys in line, she rubbed her head. There she was, now close to four o'clock, about an hour after she started, all alone. Oh no. Why did she begin this? Why did she let herself be so careless?
A/N:Ahh, rusty, like I said. And yes, Token was her ex-boyfriend. In my world, he's the ex-boyfriend of everybody. Kind of a "classy whore". Hoped you liked it. But don't expect me to be updating all the time. I'm a major procrastinator, and those who read my KND fics should know that a lot of my fics go dead after a while. So, don't get your hopes up. :D