You just moved to south park as a goth. You had your heart broken by everything. So you bought black everything and got black eyeliner. Your mom cried sometimes how you talked and your dad was always drunk. So off to school you went. You grabbed your dads cigarettes and goth poetry book and left. You arrived early at the back of the school. You sat and smoked until more goths came. "What are you doing this is our spot." A girl said. "No, I'm depressed and don't care." You quoted from the book. "That's from my favorite book!" The goth with the red hair said. "So?" You asked smoking again. "You can hang I guess. Michael." The tall one said. "This is Pete, Henrietta, and Firkle." He introduced. "Cool, (y/n)." You said leaning on the stairs. They all sat and smoked with you. You soon grew close to Pete and never realized it. When you did, you murmured all the time. "No, your a non-conformist. Can't do it, not possible." But one day Pete showed earlier than you. "Hey (y/n), I need to ask something." You sat by him with a poker face like Craig's. "Would you go out with me? We can still be goth but I just can't help it." He said. You leaned in and kissed him quickly. "Sure. Why not? I'll still be goth even if you break my heart." You said. And then you smiled. You haven't done that in ages.
