I first realised of Clyde Donavon's existence when I was a young boy. My father had taken me into the city, to see a marching band. He had leaned down to whisper, words I'd never forget:

'Son, when you grow up, will you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned?'

Clyde Donavon, was one of those I must be the saviour of.

Ha..

Ha ha..

If only my noticing of Clyde Donavon was as dramatic and thought provoking. My father didn't take me anywhere, as he was more engrossed in my twin sister, Esther (although she really despised the affection he threw her way).

I went somewhere myself, and that place was the Kingdom Of Kupa Keep. Dressed as Spock, I ran all the way to Eric Cartman's house in pure excitement for a real roleplay game. Charging into his back garden, I'd announced my presence as Spock and how I was ready to 'defeat the enemy battle cruisers'.

While Eric Cartman and most of his Keep couldn't stop themselves from cringing, Clyde Donavon had laughed. The 'God-bleeping-damnit Kevin' had been drowned out by laughter I'd never heard until then, and never realised I'd needed to hear until then.

Soon after his amazing laugh I had flushed scarlet, especially when he offered me a fist to bump. My chubby, dorky self could not handle that. I was dressed as Spock! For his kind, hand touching was intimate and special, romantic even!

I was not ready for such a commitment at such a young age, so I had ran. Exclaiming an apology to Eric Cartman, hoping Clyde and the rest of the Keep would estimate I left due to my incorrect knowledge of the roleplay taking place.

Since that one day, Clyde Donavon has never reached out to me again. Perhaps he had forgotten I existed; the only name he got was 'Kevin', and it was a pretty common name in the town apparently. It also isn't very likely he'd recognise me now.

What once was a short, chubby, braces wearing kid with horribly small eyes and acne was hit with puberty like a tonn of bricks.

I shot up in height soon after turning thirteen, even managing to challenge Craig Tucker in the leg length department. Somehow, a metabolism as fast as Sonic The Hedgehog had kicked in, causing my weight to drastically deplete into my now stick like form. Acne slowly disappeared, and the loss of weight in my cheeks had caused my once small eyes to look normal sized and perfectly Asian.

This also meant my eye colour was a lot more prominent, a striking ice blue complimented often by my three friends.

It was okay that Clyde Donavon didn't remember me. He didn't need to, because I remembered him.

Ever since the day which shaped me into the person I now am, I've been obsessed with Clyde Donavon. It started slowly; I'd spot him around school and flush, or I'd hear his voice and have to leave to the toilet for some tissue for my nose.

Then fantasies started. Dreams of Clyde beneath me, my lips on his. My hands roaming his body, disappearing under his shirt and caressing his soft skin. Lips on his neck, tasting how sweet he truly is.

It was after those dreams that I began to stalk him.

Lunch that wasn't spent with my friends, was spent watching Clyde from afar. Watching him talk with his friends, watching him smile and listening to him laugh. I'd even watch him kiss his girlfriend, listening to the sounds and slipping my eyes closed, imaging myself in the arms of the shorter male.

Sometimes, I'd follow him home.

There was a tree placed perfectly beside Clyde's window, but I'd never dared to climb it at first. I barely had control of my lanky limbs, that climbing seemed like such a stupid idea. When I'd finally braved up to the challenge, I'd manage to get had way up. However, the skin on my hands was broken and blistered and I had ripped my jeans.

Soon after, I tackled the tree again. Slowly, I began to get more confident climbing. I could feel muscle building in my legs and arms, and while small they have me a better shape.

When my friends had noticed, I'd easily told them the truth. We never lied to one another, as lies always tore friendships apart.

At first they tried to tame me. Tried to stop me from stalking Clyde and obsessing. But it was like a drug; I'd had that little taste of Clyde, that laugh from so long ago, and I craved more.

It's been three years since my obsession turned to stalking, and side then I've acquired a pair of Clyde's underwear and a shirt of his. I wear said shirt to bed every night, cuddling into the larger fabric which draped on my smaller frame.

Since then, I've come to realise what the origin of my obsession is. That's love. I'm in love with Clyde Donavon, madly in love.

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The 'bleeping' added in the Cartman quote is purely because I headcanon Kevin to not swear.