Disclaimer: In no way shape or form do I own any part of South Park, its characters, or any stories. Everything belongs to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

You pace slowly in the First Class lounge, your permanent scowl greeting the carpeted floor. As you walk up and down the short corridor waiting for your delayed flight, you begin to question your flight plans. What am I going to do once I get to New York? Ask strangers if they know a Wendy Testaburger? There's millions of people in the city, what are the chances of finding her? What's the point of finding her?

Then you remember why she's so important to you. She's the only one who listened to you. Everyone else would only roll their eyes when you'd go off on a passionate rant, but she'd fight back. She'd make the fire under you burn hotter. She's the reason you wanted to prove to everyone that there's more to life than doing the bare minimum. She's the reason you're waiting for a stupid flight to a stupid state that has too many stupid people in it. Fucking bitch.

As you're getting ready to sit down in one of the dark purple seats you hear your flight number get called over the intercom. Finally. You grab your carry on luggage and go to stand in line, noticing that there's only maybe seven other people flying first class tonight. Relieved, and yet feeling another crush of loneliness; they're all couples. There's young couples and gay ones too. In fact, that one pair are both blondes. They look familiar too; who the hell are they? Wait, no, seriousleh?

"Kenny? Butters?" You call out rather loudly and the other people in line look surprised to see the grumpy man sound confused.

"E-Eric? Is that you?" Butters nervously stutters out.

"How the hell could you afford first class, you poor piece of shit?" You loudly ask Kenny, who right away grins at hearing your taunts.

"Man, I haven't been called poor since college. Feels refreshing. I'm actually a surgical doctor now, so it's Dr. McCormick to you, fatass." The look of smug satisfaction was clear on both the blonds' faces. Fucking faggots.

"That's bull shit, 'Dr. McCormick'," you refuse to believe that your best friend from high school not only passed high school, but med school as well, "I would've known that."

"It's not like we're on your Christmas card list, Ass Master." Kenny beings to turn his lover, Butters around, "I bet you don't know I'm married with kids either."

As he finished his sentence, you notice that the shorter man has two young sleepy infants strapped to his chest. As your jaw drops to the ground, Butters nervously strokes the children's feet.

"They're twins; Jesse and Jakob" You begin to respond, but as you're about to freak out over your childhood friend having kids himself, the two men in front of you are called to the desk. Without waving goodbye, they leave down the long hallway on their way to finding their seats. The young brunette woman asks to see your identification again, but you stand there, dumbfounded.

"Sir, I need to see your boarding pass and ID."

"Here." Cold. So very cold.

After having a rude scowl passed your way, you being the long decent down to the plane. So much has changed in the last few years. You haven't kept in touch with anyone from highschool. What's Stan and Kyle doing? Or Token and Craig? Where has the time gone? You secretly begin to hope your seat is near that of Kenny and Butters so you can ask where everyone landed in this world.

Shimmy, slide, shuffle and you're at your seat. Looking around, you are grateful that no one is sitting beside you and the gays are across from you. Sweet lady luck is on your side. As the flight attendant safety video plays, you lean over to Butters, the closer of the two, to begin your in-flight chit-chat.

"Ok, so I'm sorry for acting the way I was, but I'm just shocked to see you guys together. Honestly, I thought Kenny would be dead by now!" Butters slyly looked over at his husband.

"Actually, Eric, Kenny has died. Twice. Heart attack."

"What!" Yelling, you don't even notice the annoyed looks of the other passengers or the irritated cries of the babies strapped to Butter's chest.

"Yup," Kenny said nonchalantly, leaning forward in his seat, "After that scare, I promised Butters kids and a life together. 'Cause, you know, I'm a sucker for romance."

You scoff, trying to imagine Kenny doing anything for someone other than getting them off.

"Well, Eric," Butters begins to relax his shoulders, which is always good, "Why are you flying to New York?" What should you tell them? That you're chasing a girl from high school or that you're going for a business meeting? What would they say? Since these guys would probably know where she is, you chose to go with honesty.

"To be truthful with you guys, I'm looking for someone from high school."

"Really? Who?" Kenny seemed to be getting ready to be leaning forward throughout the rest of the flight.

"Well, to be honest, Wendy."

"That's perfect!" Butters perked up faster than Tweek on espresso, "We're going to her cottage up state! That's why we're on our way there too!" An instantaneous smirk played on your lips.

"She wouldn't be picking you guys up would she?"

"Of course she is! Oh, this is wonderful!" Your smile begins to falter; damn, was Butters a total queer now, or what.

"You don't think she'll mind seeing me?"

"Knowing her, she'll kick your ass right into baggage claim. Cause, you know, you did pretty much kill off her idea of men."

"What?" Your eyes bug out and you begin to take on similar qualities of a confused dog. "What the hell are talking about Kenny?"

"You don't remember? Damn, that was the talk of the town for, like, a year!" Kenny seemed to be angry at you, for some unseen reason.

"You broke her heart on the night of grad. Remember?"

Flashbacks began to trickle their way into your mind. Wendy and you dancing. A lot. There was lots of booze, you know that much. Bumping and grinding seemed to be the theme of the night. Everything else is a blur though. You lock eyes with Kenny, pure concern on your face.

"I can't remember anything from that night besides drinking. But, come on, that was like ten years ago. She wouldn't still be mad, would she?" Awkward glances were shared between the couple across from you. Shit, she still is.

"Well," Butters perked up a smile, hoping it'd help your state, "Let's hope that she's forgiving!"

You shrug your shoulders, not knowing what to expect now. She could explode upon seeing you, and that's never a good thing.

Leaning back, you try to remember the entire grad day you had ten years ago with your old crush. You envision her, beautiful as always, wearing a flowing light pink dress with a low cut sequined top. Her corsage was a small collection of white roses and pink orchids. You were able to convince her to be your escort, since Stan decided Bebe would be a better option, for some odd reason. You see her crying her blue eyes out hours before you were due on stage.

"Hey, ho, why you crying?"

"What, like you care?"

"Actually," you bending down to her level, on one knee, "I care more than you'll ever know."

She lifted her face from her hands, puffy eyes and smudged makeup, which didn't take away from any of her beauty.

"Cartman?" Not another word was spoken since there was no way to. Your lips softly graced her's and as you cupped her jaw, her tears ended.

"Cartman?" That wasn't her voice. Damnit.

"Cartman, are gunna have a snack?"


The flight carries on as any other flight from Miami to New York would: boring. You sit with your headphones on as Jesse and Jakob wail from their little ears popping. As you finish up the third straight episode of 'Pals' you hear the twins quiet down. Passing up this silenced time would be stupid. Leaning over, you catch Kenny's attention.

"Hey, since I know where you guys and Wendy have ended up tell me about everybody else." Kenny thinks quietly for a moment, trying to think of who to start off with.

"Well, Stan is married to Bebe, they have three kids. Umm, Kyle is in Israel becoming a Rabbi, big surprise. Token is in a pretty successful cover band in LA, I'm not sure what his situation is. I think Clyde and Craig are in New York too, but I'm not to sure. Tweek is still in South Park, running Tweak Bros Coffee. And that's all I'm sure about, man."

You take in all of this new information. Seems like you made it out on top. Sweet.

"Well, that's all I needed to know. Wake me up when we land."

"Sure thing, fatass." As you close your eyes, you see Stan and Bebe together and a very depressed Wendy as her Maid of Honor. Poor thing.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and PMs so far! If there's anything wrong or needs editing, please let me know! I write these chapters on my phone, so with the chances, something's probably wrong! Thanks!