TRIGGER WARNINGS:

alcoholism, underage drinking & physical assault

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

CHAPTER THREE:

FP had never known what to do with his oldest son. He reminded him so much of his past self. This uncontrolled angry being. FP took another sip, running his fingers through his hair. He looked back in the closet. He always said today would be the day he would quit.

There hung Jason Blossom's jacket.

There hung his demise.

There he hung.

Jetsam, a boy who wanted to escape. Just like Jason.

Jason was someone's son and he took that away from them.

FP reached for the bottle.

—

Polly smiled politely at the Blossom's. She knew she had to be smart about this. She knew that she had to be devious and kind. It was quite easy, putting on a show. Her hand sat neatly on her pronounced stomach. She was neatly put together.

Of course, she knew there was a reason for the Blossom's hospitality— there had to be. She just didn't know what yet. Maybe it was to have Jason back in their arms, a part of his DNA in her child. Maybe it was to get back at the Cooper's.

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't for their own good.

But, everyone knew otherwise.

—

Jetsam sat next to Ethel in their English class. The two never really spoke, but he understood where that poem came from. It came from a place of hurt. His hands twitched. He wanted to reach for the lighter, but he didn't. He didn't know where to start with the hurt.

Veronica noticed him twitching. She glanced down at his fingers before looking up at Ethel, who was walking towards her seat. The bell rang shortly after, and the trio made their way to the student lounge.

The brunette talked with Ethel, and Jetsam sat alone. He always sat alone. Suddenly, he heard his name, "Um, what?"

"Yeah, Jetsam will be there." Veronica smiled her sweet, bright smile.

"No, I won't." Jetsam bit back.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. Kevin, want some pampering?"

Jetsam went back to his secluded world. He hummed underneath his breath, a show tune from Newsies. That had been his favorite since he was little.

There was talent in him, somewhere. There was a star to be born.

But, maybe he just needed to explode first.

—

Jughead didn't know where Jetsam ran off to at night. He got a call from Betty, though, asking him to come over. She pleaded, never saying why. Alice Cooper would not be pleased to hear that her youngest was crying out for a him at eleven o'clock at night.

But, he rushed over. Alice stood to the side, and Jughead hated what he saw.

He saw Betty trying to get the hunched over figure to look at her. Alice, watching the two. He noticed the leather jacket and immediately rushed over, "Jet?"

Jetsam had blood on his hands again. Jughead couldn't tell if he had been crying or if he was high. He hoped it was the foremost. Jetsam looked up at Jughead, his breath reeking of liquor.

"What the hell, Jet—!"

Betty scolded him, "Don't yell, Juggie." She looked at Jetsam, "Show him, Jet."

Jet looked up, a fat bruise on his eye.

"I went to go see Dad. I had been drinking, I don't know why I wanted to see him…" He muttered, rambling like Jughead had never seen, "And he yelled at me. He said I was the reason— I was the reason. But he never told me what the reason was." Jet looked down, "And I yelled and hit the wall, so he hit me. Just like he always wanted to."

Jughead rolled his eyes, "Don't be dramatic."

"We both know who brought me back, Jughead Jones." Jetsam looked up at him, "And no one here believes me."

Jughead bent down, "Dad wouldn't do that."

"Oh, you wanna bet?"

—

Cheryl walked into school the next day, eyes gazing for her lonesome, broody boy. Once she found him, she walked over, "Why hello there, Jetty."

Jetsam turned to her, "What do you want, Cheryl?"

"Oh, me, want something?"

He went back to his locker. Cheryl placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her, slowly. She pulled up his sleeve (it had always interested her why he wore long sleeves, even in the summertime). What she saw surprised her.

Burns.

"Jetsam…" Of course, she did care to some extent about people. No one in Riverdale (that she knew of) ever hurt themselves. They only hurt other people. Jetsam pulled back.

"Don't, Cheryl."

"You need to tell someone."

Jetsam bit his lip, stifling a laugh, "And you need to realize not everyone gets happily ever afters."

He slammed his locker and walked away. It was only after that Cheryl realized he didn't show his face.

—

Jughead realized Jetsam wasn't at Math today.

Ethel realized he wasn't in English.

Betty, in History.

Archie, at lunch.

Cheryl wasn't at any of their classes either.

—

"This is where he was shot." Cheryl looked over at Jet. Jet and Cheryl were sitting down. He had shown her how to skip rocks. She wasn't nearly as good as he was at it, but that didn't stop her. Jetsam bit his lip.

"Geez, that really sucks." Jetsam skipped another rock. Cheryl let out a laugh.

He noticed she even tipped her head back as she did so. Her pale cheeks flushed with color for a split second. Jetsam skipped a rock, chuckling with her. His arm wrapped around Cheryl's waist,
"Cm'here, Blossom."

She hadn't felt this relaxed in so long. Her hand traced his jacket.

"Jetsam?" Cheryl looked up at him.

"Yeah?" He looked down. Her layers were breaking, walls built up falling in less than a school's day.

"I've never skipped a day of school." She looked down, "I'm going to get into big trouble."

Jetsam shrugged, "You made the choice, Princess." He laughed. Cheryl looked up at him.

"It's not funny."

"Well, Miss 4.0, I think it's hysterical."

Jetsam didn't know why, but he kissed her forehead. He was like a moth drawn to a flame.

—

Cheryl didn't mind skipping the day for some reason.

Her parents were livid, as expected.

But she had never felt better.

A/N: So, random update! Yay? I hope y'all have enjoyed. As always, you can find me on dodierps for updates, sneak peaks, and whatnot.