Jughead Jones, the mysterious lone wolf outsider at Riverdale High whom no one understood. There were some things about himself even he did not understand, but he knew this much at least: he hated parties. That was why he had the good sense to leave this one as soon as humanly possible, which for him was a little more than five minutes after blowing out the 16 candles on his birthday cake.

He'd made it the rest of the way without incident, though he did at one point have to duck into a back alley when he saw Cheryl's gang coming the other way with a couple of beer kegs. Now he was sitting with a table to himself in Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe, sipping on a milkshake, waiting for all this to blow over, at which point his friends would eventually come find him.

All the while he passed the time by typing a sappy love poem into his MacBook Air, just so he could let Betty know he wasn't mad at her, because he really wasn't. They only needed to work out some differences in their relationship.

This really wasn't working though. Jughead stared in irritation at the 80 or so words he'd written, before changing his mind and promptly backspacing them all.

It wasn't especially late, but even for a Tuesday night, the place was eerily quiet; Jughead found he was the only one here. He thought briefly about getting up to request a song from the jukebox, but no sooner than he'd decided to do so, the door swung open and someone else emerged, someone who was wearing a funny looking hat.

At first, jughead thought he didn't recognize him, then he thought maybe he did after all, then he couldn't make up his mind. And Jughead was no stranger to funny hats either, being as he wore one himself. But for all that, he couldn't so much as take his eyes off the newcomer, hoping eventually he would turn his face.

He was about the same height as Jughead. And the part of his face Jughead could see showed just the corner of a carefree smirk. Moreover, he was wearing that same purple 'S' shirt as the one Jughead had in his regular rotation.

Now he was ordering something from the bar. Jughead couldn't make out what he was saying to Pop, but he seemed to be waving around a piece of paper and claiming to be some kind of coupon. Jughead didn't know if Pop's accepted coupons. From the look of it, neither did Pop. They appeared to argue for a moment. Then, with a resigned look, the boy handed over some cash, and sidled up to a seat, one table over from Jughead, facing directly at him.

That was when they both saw each other.

For one thing, this guy had very similar hair to him, but the crown-like hat, which he wore at a jaunty angle, was different to his own favorite beanie. Well okay, it did look a bit like it. But beyond that, even his face was similar. No, it was the exact same face. Did Jughead really look like that? He stared into the needle-nosed face of his doppelganger, feeling nervous in the way that he normally only felt when looking in the mirror. He pretended to be distracted by something on his laptop screen in case the other boy noticed him staring.

And that might have worked, for about thirty seconds, but now Jughead was insatiably curious. He couldn't simply wait for the guy to get up and leave. He had to at least ask.

"Do I... know you?"

The reply came back almost immediately.

"I don't know, do you?"

It was in a slightly higher register than him, but despite that, it sounded exactly like his own voice. It even gave Jughead a strong sense of this is how my voice sounds on a tape recorder and I don't like it.

"No really, who are you?"

"Well," the boy said. "People call me Jughead."

Just what exactly was this kid playing at? Could Reggie have sent someone here to prank Jughead on his birthday? But how did he manage to find someone that looked so exactly like him? And what would be the motivation of such a prank?

"But... I'm Jughead," he managed to say after a moment of being tongue-tied.

"And I am you," the other boy explained, as if it were completely obvious.

Jughead furrowed his brow as the brain behind it searched for any possible way of explaining what he saw and heard. His long-lost twin perhaps? What if FP had conceived a twin with another woman? Wait, how would that even work?

"You're me?" he repeated incredulously.

"Well, technically... I'm you from a parallel dimension,"

"Oh, okay," said Jughead, as if this were all the explanation he needed.

It was not all the explanation he needed. But he couldn't very well count on this guy to tell the truth.

It was drugs. It had to be drugs. That shouldn't even be possible, and yet here it was. Jughead couldn't remember taking drugs at the party, but for all he knew, that was a side-effect of being on the drugs. Could someone have put hallucinogens into the cake? No, that was absurd, he thought for a while. But then the sudden realization hit him about the true nature of his double, and soon Jughead knew where he recognized him from.

"This is a dream," he said, pointing at the other Jughead. "That is the only way explain your existence."

"Are you saying I don't exist?"

"Oh, I'm not just saying it. I know. I'll prove it right now."

And with that, Jughead pinched himself hard, closing his eyes, expecting that when he opened them again he'd be on the spare mattress at Archie's place, safe.

The other Jughead's voice was the next thing he heard.

"Why do you do that?"

"I was trying to wake up."

"No. I mean, why do people pinch themselves when they think it's a dream? Waste of a good dream if you ask me. Like, you could try and fly or become a pirate captain if you really wanted to prove you're dreaming. But instead, you take the one choice that literally erases my existence."

"It didn't work," Jughead replied, somewhat irritably.

"Well geez, am I supposed to apologize for that?"

Jughead sighed. "I'm sorry, man. It's just that I've just been having some rough dreams lately. Including one where I looked exactly like you, with the same weird hat and everything..."

"It's called a whoopee cap."

"...Except Archie was there, and he was pissed at me for some reason. I think in the dream I'd hurt him real bad."

"Oh that's nothing," said the other Jughead. "I once had a dream that Archie was a hamburger, and I ate him! It tasted okay but I felt real bad about it afterward."

At this, Jughead had to laugh, if only for a moment.

"So you really are me?" he asked, still not quite believing it.

"Yup!"

"So, um... Is that why you ordered food for both of us?"

"Huh?"

The other Jughead looked over his shoulder to see Pop Tate walking over with a tray that had two large burgers on it.

"Quarter pounder with fries," Pop said. "And a cheeseburger with extra cheese."

The other Jughead accepted the meals graciously as Pop walked away.

"Um..." a sheepish grin broke out on his face. "They're both for me."

"..."

"But you're welcome to pick at the fries."

Jughead scowled across the table at Jughead, then reconsidered. With some reluctance, he closed the laptop and scooted over to be in arm's reach of the other Jughead's food.

"Are you really gonna eat all that?" he asked.

This prompted the other Jughead to raise his eyebrows, as if that was somehow a strange question to ask.

"What, you've never seen Jughead Jones eat two burgers before?!"

When Jughead shook his head, the other Jughead continued.

"Then buckle up, kid. You're about to see something amazing..."