Prologue.

The Nintendo DS wasn't Jughead's.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure whose it was. It was bright pink, bedazzled with different stickers, glittering unicorns and stars that had since faded. The casing was chipped slightly. The on/off switch got stuck sometimes and he had to press extra hard on the Y button to get it to work.

It did have Pokemon though, so the console's condition didn't really bother Jughead. He'd swiped it from the lost and found office, though never had intention to take it home. After all, the DS wouldn't last two seconds in St Mary's. One of the younger kids would have it in their grasp the second he walked through the door, or more likely, an older kid declaring it theirs once they glimpsed it in his backpack.

So, instead of risking having the DS taken from him completely, Jughead made sure to put it back after every lunch time, slipping it back inside its matching case. The office was usually empty, so it was easy to sneak in and out. Being a freshman made him pretty much invisible. Which was a plus.

He often wondered if one day the owner might come back for it, but it had been weeks. Jughead liked to sit under the bleachers in the shade, losing himself in the world of Pokemon. He was curled into himself, chin balanced on his knees, eyes laser focused on the bright screen, ready to fight a higher level Pokemon, when a voice sounded, a prepubescent squeak startling him.

"Hey, what are you up to?"

Glancing up, Jughead blinked rapidly. He'd been staring at the screen for far too long, reality bleeding back into focus. Ahead of him was the football field, dotted with kids, either lounging around in groups, soaking up the sun, or members of the football team running suicides. The sun sat in a crystal blue sky like an unspoiled egg.

"Uh, hello? Dude, what are you doing?"

The voice belonged to Archie Andrews. Also a freshman. But unlike Jughead, the boy was popular, already a favourite to join varsity in Sophomore year. Tearing his gaze from the screen, Jughead fixed the boy with a frown. It was definitely odd that Archie Andrews was talking to him, considering Archie ruled the high school hierarchy despite the fact his voice was yet to break, while Jughead was a ghost, slipping in and out of the shadows unnoticed.

The boy sported a Letterman jacket that looked at least three sizes too big for him, hanging off his thin frame at an awkward angle. Archie was tiny compared to the towering seniors, yet to have a growth spurt. But the colours suited him; vivid blue and gold complimenting pale skin and his usual mop of red curls sticking from a baseball cap. Jughead tried not to look down at his own clothes, though it was hard not to.

St. Mary's obviously couldn't afford to buy him the latest designer labels, so he was stuck wearing thrift store jeans and shirts. Usually, he didn't mind, but with Archie standing so close to him, he couldn't help but wrap his arms around the discoloured Levi's jacket twined around his waist. It was the most expensive thing he owned.

Last Christmas he'd been given twenty dollars to get himself something, and the jacket had been something Jughead had been eyeing up for a while, in the window of a thrift store on Main Street. He'd worn it every day ever since, over his usual flannel shirt and scuffed jeans. The beanie he usually had over his head of messy raven hair was more of a shield, allowing him to walk the halls of Riverdale High, reduced to a shadow in the corner of a kid's eye. Archie's jeans looked brand new. His shirt was surely from some expensive store in the mall, and the converse were most definitely a gift from his parents.

For a moment, Jughead couldn't speak, before he managed to steel himself. Thankfully, his voice had broken. That was one thing he was grateful for at least. "Nothing," he replied nonchalantly, slamming the DS shut with far too much force. He gestured to the Letterman, his lip curling. "Aren't Letterman jackets only for kids on the football team?"

Not exactly first impression material, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and the Letterman jacket admittedly looked good on the boy. If not a little ridiculous, considering Archie was barely out of middle school. The colours stood out though. Deluged in a halo of sun-kissed blue and gold, the Andrews boy looked like an otherworldly being.

As usual, Archie was smiling. He was always smiling, brown eyes teeming with the kind of optimism that Jughead could only dream of having. He'd recently had his braces off, offering Jughead a blinding grin. "One of the seniors gave it me!" he said excitedly, his voice squeaking again.

The boy did a little spin, stretching out his arms, the jacket slipping off his shoulders. The excitement was practically radiating off of him, and Jughead swallowed a groan. Was Archie striking up a conversation with him just to show off the jacket? Jughead had known Archie since kindergarten, though they had only been in the same classes, maybe exchanging offhanded greetings through the years.

It was no secret that Jughead was an orphan. Kids weren't stupid, and Archie Andrews might have been clumsy, constantly falling over himself and bumping into lockers, but Jughead was fairly sure the redhead knew of his lack of parents. He didn't have a last name, either. The orphanage didn't bother with one, so he was just Forsythe or Jughead. Archie had barely even made eye contact through the years. Which made it even more mortifying now the redhead was suddenly deciding to talk to him out of the blue.

Jughead arched his back, the DS slipping into his lap. The grass was warm beneath him, tiny wands tickling the backs of his legs. He studied Archie, waiting for the boy to turn and run off back to his friends. He was surprised when instead, Archie stepped closer, ducking his head under the bleachers. His grin grew wider, eyes sparkling.

"Neat, right?" The boy pulled the jacket tighter around himself. Jughead figured he'd eventually grow into it.

"Sure." He said flatly. "Neat."

Archie nodded, oblivious of the raven's icy stance. He leaned closer, straying strands of red fraying in wide brown eyes. "What are you playing?"

"Pokemon."

"Oh! Which one? Is it X or Y?" Archie was practically bouncing on the heels of his converse and it was getting progressively more irritating. Jughead frowned. "It's just Pokemon, Archie," he rolled his eyes at the boy. "do you need to go to the bathroom?"

He chuckled. "No, I'm just excited. It's my birthday today."

Jughead offered the redhead a mocking smile. "Happy birthday," he said, "did you want to talk to me, or..." he trailed off and gestured to his DS. "I'm pretty busy trying to win a gym battle, so I mean, happy birthday dude, I'm truly happy you got to live another year. Congratulations." the words came out before he could stop them, and Jughead automatically felt bad. Especially when Archie's smile shrunk significantly.

"I mean," Jughead shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be mean. I'd just prefer to spend the rest of my lunch trying to level up." He forced a smile, waving the pink brick. "the battery's dying too." not true. He made sure to charge it every time he put it back, hiding the console and charger behind a mass of old senior folders in the office.

When Archie only frowned at him blankly, Jughead bit back a hiss of frustration. "Dude, I'm trying to play a game, okay? I already said happy birthday-"

"Are you busy tonight, Jughead?" the redhead cut him off, and Jughead nearly choked on saliva. The fact that the boy knew his name shouldn't have been surprising. Though it was more that Archie knew his nickname. Teachers called him Forsythe, as well as the house mother at the orphanage. Potential foster parents insisted on Forsythe. Archie was the first person to call him Jughead. Which made him curious how exactly the boy had come to learn it. His cheeks reddened, and it took everything in him not to start stuttering.

"What?"

Archie shrugged. "I'm having a birthday party, and I was wondering if you could come."

Studying the boy's expression for traces of tease, Jughead only found sincerity. That, however, didn't knock his barriers down. There was only one reason why a popular freshman kid like Archie would invite Jughead to his party. "I'm good." he managed to get out.

"Jughead-"

"I said I'm good." he gritted out.

"Why?" Archie's voice deepened for a moment, before cracking. "My dad said-"

"Your dad said what?" Jughead snorted, unable to help himself. He clenched his fists in his lap. "Invite the orphan kid to your party so you can feel better about yourself?"

The redhead's expression darkened. It was the first time Jughead had seen the Andrews boy look serious. His brown eyes turned steely, lip curling. The boy looked hurt, and Jughead tried to ignore the pang in his chest. "No, I invited you because I wanted to invite you." Archie said. "I don't care if you're an orphan. If I'm honest I always see you playing video games, and you're like, the only kid who actually seems cool and doesn't want to talk about girls all the time. Plus, you don't think Pokemon is dorky."

"I don't play video games." Jughead said, albeit stubbornly.

"You're holding a Nintendo DS."

Before Jughead could open his mouth, Archie continued, folding his arms across his chest and pulling the Letterman tighter around him. "I was going to say my dad said he'll pick us up from school and can drop you home later tonight." pulling a face, the boy turned to go with a dismissive wave, scoffing. "It's fine though," shooting Jughead a bright smile which was definitely not as peppy as usual, more of an ironic grin. Jughead didn't even know the boy was capable of being angry or pissed. "I'll leave you alone and go and find another helpless orphan and invite them to my party to make myself feel better."

The boy's words stung. It was word for word. Jughead usually brushed off insults from the other kids at St. Mary's. Their taunts, however, were mosquito bites compared to Archie's blow. It felt like a physical pain thrumming in his chest, twisting his gut. Before the boy could disappear, Jughead straightened up with a sigh. He was going to regret this. Friends, or even the idea of them, didn't matter to him. Jughead kept to himself the majority of the time, and when anyone bothered to make conversation, he pushed them away.

In this case, however, Archie was different.

"Wait." he said, and when the redhead ignored him, Jughead hissed out a breath. "Archie, wait."

"Hmm?" Archie turned, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes were hard, but a glimmer of kindness remained. "Sorry, did you say something?"

Rolling his eyes, Jughead couldn't resist his own smile. "I get it," he groaned. "I was an ass."

"Yes." Archie turned fully and marched back over. "You were a total ass, dude," he chuckled. "I was only inviting you to my birthday party, and you bit my head off, accusing me of treating you like some kind of charity case."

Shrugging, Jughead tried not to smile. Archie's energy was contagious. Though he felt strangely comfortable talking to the kid. "Yeah, sorry about that." He tucked the DS into his jeans pocket. "I'm not used to getting invited to parties."

"Clearly." Arching a brow, the redhead cleared his throat. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Do you want to come?" Archie pulled off the Letterman, bundled it up and threw it at Jughead, who caught it with a soft gasp. "There's going to be cake."

The jacket was warm in his arms, a bundle of blue and gold. The inside was lined with fake fur. Jughead shook his head. "Archie, I can't take your jacket."

"Sure you can," the boy grinned. "The Letterman's yours if you come, it'll suit you more anyway." He pulled a face. "Reggie Mantle only gave it me because he lost a dare."

Jughead must have looked horrified, because Archie rolled his eyes with a light laugh. "It's just to chill at my house, dude. I've got Crash on PS2 and we're getting takeout burgers from Pops." That time Jughead couldn't hide his smile. Burgers sounded good. Cake too. He hadn't had either in ages, since St. Mary's had an obsession with eating healthy.

"You've still got a PS2?"

Archie huffed. "Dude, it's nostalgia."

"It's a kids game." Jughead found himself laughing, and it felt right. His barriers came crumbling down one by one. It felt...good. He hadn't laughed in a while, unless it was to himself. With Archie, it felt natural.

"It's not a kids game!" the redhead shot back. "Bro, yes or no?"

Jughead huffed. "Sure." he said, "is it just us? or have you invited half of the freshman class?"

A blush spread across Archie's cheeks, and Jughead pretended not to notice. "Ah. There is one more person," his voice broke into that irritating squeak once more, and Jughead half wondered if hitting the boy in the throat would quicken the process. Maybe he was destined to always sound like a cat being choked. "though she kind of invited herself?"

"Oh?" the Letterman was suddenly heavy in his arms. Jughead felt dread coil in his gut, the overwhelming urge to turn away from the boy and not look back, hit him like a brick to the face. That was the best thing to do, right? Hanging out with Archie for one night sounded good. Maybe even fun. Even if the boy was practically a jock in the making. But a girl? Knowing Archie, it was probably a cheerleader. "and who is this mystery person?"

Archie looked nervous. He shifted his baseball cap, raking a hand through thick strands of red hair. "just a girl in some of my classes. Her mom is friends with my dad, so I kind of have to invite her." he smiled reassuringly. "She's nice, I promise! We can hang out as a three? Ronnie likes video games too. Well, Just Dance. But we can take turns."

The boy was almost stupidly naive. "Ronnie?" Jughead repeated. "as in Veronica Gomez, the cheerleader with a major crush on you?" he waggled his eyebrows and Archie turned crimson. Veronica Gomez, like Archie, was a Freshman who had managed to strike lucky and become popular.

She was the first ever freshman Vixen cheer captain and already had boys (and girls) flocking around her. Except Ronnie ignored them. She only had eyes for Archie Andrews, the clumsy redhead whose voice still sounded like a mouse on helium. Veronica wasn't a bitch. She was worse. Her fake kindness and nice-girl facade wasn't fooling Jughead. He knew underneath the maple sweet smiles was trouble in a cheer skirt. Sure, she was captain of the LGBTQ society after coming out as bi, and ran several school charities for disadvantaged kids, but Jughead wasn't taking any chances.

Nice cheerleaders didn't exist. And if they did, they were rare.

In other words, Veronica Gomez was possibly the worst person Archie could have invited.

Ever.

"Jughead," Archie's expression creased with worry. "is that okay?"

No. the word was on his tongue, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't speak. "Sure." he said weakly, "the more the merrier, right?"

The redhead broke out into a grin, and Jughead struggled to make eye contact. "Awesome! I'll meet you outside the gates, okay? Dad will be picking us up."

Nodding, Jughead's jaw was aching from smiling so much. "Alright, I'll be there."

"Sweet." Archie backed away, brown eyes warm, lips stretched into a smile. He nodded at the jacket still hanging in Jughead's arms. "Wear it, bro. It'll suit you."

Jughead had been too choked up to reply.

I'll be there. His own words thrummed in the back of his head, all the way through 4th and fifth period. The lie was painful, but it was better than subjecting himself to a night with Veronica Gomez. Jughead sat through English Lit and AP Chemistry, zoning out to the sound of his classmates chatter, reduced to white noise in his ears. He'd read ahead in his studies, so listening to the teacher's robotic droning wasn't top priority.

Luckily, Archie wasn't in his afternoon classes, so he could avoid the boy at all costs, and despite Archie's kindness, never see him again. Jughead had a plan - sort of. As soon as the bell rang he'd get out of school as fast as humanly possible. As far as he knew, Archie didn't know where St. Mary's was.

As for afterwards, ghosting the boy wouldn't exactly be hard. He was Riverdale High's very own phantom after all. Though despite the brilliant plan taking shape, Jughead couldn't help the twinges of guilt begin to creep up his spine. The boy was expecting him to be standing at the gates at 3:30 and instead, Jughead would be locked in his room in St. Mary's, curled up under his duvet.

After a tedious hour of sitting with nausea twisting his stomach into a frenzy, the bell finally rang, and Jughead was jumping up, his backpack already slung over his shoulder. He'd planned ahead; packing his workbooks five minutes before the bell rang. Just to be sure, he'd dumped Archie's Letterman jacket on the hallway before class. Hopefully, some idiot would pick it up and claim it. Bulldog jackets were special after all.

It was cruel, he kept thinking. But necessary. Veronica was bad news, and the idea of spending a whole night with the two of them sent bile crawling up his throat.

Archie would forgive him eventually, right?

He didn't care either way. At least, that's what he told himself.

Joining the stream of kids heading out of the school, Jughead kept his head down, slipping his beanie over his eyes. The mass of kids standing in groups made his head hurt. He spotted Vixens in signature cheer skirts, ribbons tied into ponytails. Veronica, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. Jughead had no doubt Archie hadn't told her about his impromptu invitation. He was halfway to the gate, when something stopped him in his stride. Kids pushed past him, nearly sending him to his knees. The Nintendo DS.

Jughead could feel it practically burning through his jeans pocket. The mess with Archie had distracted him from his usual routine of taking the damn thing back. If he ran back to the lost and found office, there was a huge chance of bumping into Archie. The lost and found was right next to the boys changing rooms, and Jughead had an inkling the boy would be hanging with the Bulldogs. After hesitating, he continued on, quickening his steps. The DS would have to go home with him for one night. Just one night, he promised himself. If he brought it back tomorrow, it wouldn't be classed as stealing, right?

Jughead stood, lost in his thoughts, his mind a confusing spiral, watching the myriad of kids jump onto awaiting school buses. His gaze was on what looked like a Sophomore boy who looked like he was going to throw up, when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Flinching, he twisted around, expecting Archie.

"Hey! Forsythe, right?"

Or not.

Jughead looked up, his cheeks already smouldering, to see a raven haired girl smiling brightly at him. The girl was pretty. Of course she was, it was Veronica Gomez. Though she wasn't exactly his type. Jughead had always seen her at a distance, laughing with her flock of Vixens or grabbing things from her locker.

Except now she was inches away, he noticed little things. Her hair was silk obsidian framing a heart shaped face, warm chestnut skin perfectly defining her features. She wore her cheer uniform, vivid blue and gold blurred together, the skirt fluttering in the slight breeze, ribbons dangling from her hair.

He expected her expression to be creased with irritation, since he was apparently crashing on her and Archie's night, but Veronica seemed almost as happy to see him as Archie. Jughead swore, just like the Bulldog, she was bouncing on the toes of her sneakers unable to keep still. Suddenly aware of his own looks; eyes shadowed with sleep circles, pale skin, greasy curls slipping from his thrift store beanie.

It became increasingly harder to breathe.

"It's Jughead." he managed to reply, swallowing hard.

Veronica nodded. "Right. Sorry," she giggled. "I'm so bad with names, so you're going to have to remind me at least a thousand times." Her eyes were surprisingly kind, and he had a hard time making eye contact with her. "So, you're still coming to Archie's right?" she nodded, as if answering for him. "Arch told me to come and get you, in case you tried to run off." she winked, and Jughead resisted a groan. Of course. Archie wasn't stupid.

"This is great and all, but I really should get home. I have to study for a test." the words were flitting from his lips before he could stop them, but Veronica was rolling her eyes and laughing. "Jughead, trust me. We don't bite! We're going to have fun!"

"No, really-" he spluttered, trying to find his voice.

Except the girl was already wrapping her hand around his bicep, dragging him in the opposite direction. "Archie says it'll be better to wait for Mr Andrews where there's less kids," she sang. Her energy was dizzying. Jughead tried at first, spluttering out excuses. But the girl brushed them off, insisting on him joining them. According to her, Jughead was vital to the party. Besides, it was Archie's birthday and if he wanted Jughead to be there, then Veronica was going to make his wish come true.

The two of them ended up on the other side of campus, straying kids and staff still dotted around. The sun was far too hot, burning through his shirt. Jughead could barely keep up with the girl. Despite being small, she had a wicked hold, keeping a vice grip of his arm. He ended up awkwardly stumbling after her as she marched towards the parking lot. Her movement was captivating. Golden skin shining underneath the late afternoon sun, cheer skirt swishing side to side with every thump of her plimsolls on the asphalt.

"Do you like double chocolate chip frosting?" the girl turned to him, flashing Jughead a grin. He noticed glitter speckling her cheeks, tiny gold hearts drawn under her eyes.

"Uh, sure?" the reply came fast before he could stop it, and Veronica squealed. She let go of his arm and clapped excitedly. "Oh, Jughead, you're going to love the cake! Mr Andrews and I picked it out!"

The urge to run was no longer a shadow at the back of his head. Jughead found himself walking freely beside Veronica. His mouth was watering at the thought of proper cake. He'd only had the cheap version, or cupcakes if the little's at St Mary's baked.

Archie was waiting for them, sitting on a wall, legs dangling. The redhead was holding the Letterman, and Jughead felt the guilt come over him once more in waves.

"Hey!" the boy jumped off the wall when he spotted the two of them, eagerly making his way over. Veronica wrapped her arms around Archie, chuckling. "I caught him," she giggled, gesturing to Jughead. "You were right, he was trying to make a run for it."

Jughead struggled to find words, but Archie didn't look mad. He offered a warm smile, handing over the jacket. "I believe this is yours? I found it on the hallway."

The word "yours" was a funny one. At least for Jughead. He'd never really owned anything. Everything had to be shared at St. Mary's; everything in the entertainment room including the beaten up Xbox and scrappy collection of Harry Potter books. Even when Jughead had bought a comic book, some kid had took it, insisting that everything was shared. Even the DS still burning a hole in his pocket wasn't really his property, despite how far he'd gotten in the game. Jughead wasn't used to things well and truly being owned by him.

With shaking hands, he took the Letterman. Which was his, he thought, slipping his fingers through the warm material. Finally something that was his.

He didn't put it on, instead keeping it in his arms. "Thank you, Archie." his first words that were meaningful to the redhead. Except his apology earlier of course.

"It's no sweat, man," Archie chuckled. "like I said, you suit it more than me."

Veronica nodded, joining in. "Definitely," she nudged the boy teasingly. "now I can stop pretending to compliment you."

"Hey!" he shot back. "It's my birthday, and you said you were going to be nice all day."

"It's too hard!" the girl mocked a groan. "Come on, Archie! You say or do something dumb like every five minutes!"

"I can uninvite you, y'know!"

While Veronica and Archie engaged in playful back and forth, Jughead glimpsed a car pulling into the lot. At first Jughead thinks he's imagining things, but no. The car was a shiny red Tesla, which looked straight out of the newest catalogue.

Jughead couldn't take his eyes off of it, marvelling at the exterior.

Definitely the car of his dreams.

"Uh, Archie." Veronica grabbed the boy's arm. "Is that your dad? And since WHEN did he own a ride like that?"

The boy shook his head. "That's not my dad's car."

The Tesla however, stopped right next to them, front windows sliding down with a satisfying bzzzz. A man popped his head out. He looked to be in his late thirties with longish dark hair and scraggly looking beard. "Hey kids!" he smiled brightly at them, his gaze flicking to a confused looking Archie.

"Happy birthday, Archie! Jesus, you've grown since I last saw you, aint cha? How old are you now, son? Sixteen?"

"Fourteen." the boy corrected.

"Damn, it's not been long at all, then!"

When the redhead only smiled politely, raking a hand through his hair, the man chuckled, leaning on the window. "Oh. Sorry, I should have been more forward. I'm an old friend of Freddie's, but he's a little tied up at the moment and asked me to come and getcha."

"Oh!" Archie nodded eagerly. "Oh, right! You must be the one my dad's always talking about!"

"In the flesh!" the guy grinned. "Now, you kids get in the back. I aint got time for dillydallying." he gestured to Jughead and Veronica. "These your friends?"

The redhead was already moving towards the back, watching in amazement, as the doors slid open on their own. "Yeah!" Archie was way too excited about the Tesla to start questioning a stranger claiming to be a friend of his father's. He jumped into the backseat. "Uh, meet Veronica and Jughead. They're coming around to hang out."

"Nice to meet you kids!"

Veronica was quick to follow Archie, squealing in delight when her hands brushed against expensive leather. The girl dived into excited chatter with Archie but Jughead hesitated.

The man noticed him teetering on the edge of the sidewalk. He cocked his head, lips curling. "Are you getting in, Jughead?" there was something about the man's expression that was strange, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Shaking the thought away, Jughead nodded silently and jumped in, shifting himself across the seats, sitting himself comfortably next to Archie. He was barely congenial before something cool zipped across his chest. When Jughead tried to move properly, he found he couldn't. It practically strapped him to the seat. Veronica squeaked, and the guy laughed.

"It's just your belts. They're on automatic."

Archie didn't look convinced. He squirmed in his seat, but the belts were tight, firmly restricting the three teens. And it was then when the coil of dread returned to Jughead's stomach, slinking its way up his spine, icy fingers tip toeing down his arms and legs. "Uh, if you don't mind me asking, when did you last see me?"

The man chuckled and the car lurched forwards. "I haven't seen you or your father in years, Archie. But I gotta admit, it's good to see you again. I can understand why Fred hid you from me for fourteen years. The bastard took you away before I could even start to make you into something wonderful. You really are perfect. I'm so glad I found you again."

Twisting in his seat, he winked at the three of them. "Your friends are just a bonus."

Fuck. Jughead's mouth went dry. The world seemed to stop for a moment, while he attempted to comprehend what the man was saying.

"Wait, what?" Veronica whispered, and Jughead's gaze flicked to the windows. They were tinted black. He had no doubt they were locked. "Archie, who the hell is this guy?"

"I'm his father, of course! His real father." the man hummed. "Or should I say...creator."

The man's words reverberated around Jughead's skull, but he couldn't register them.

Archie let out a sharp hiss. "What?" He lunged forwards, struggling violently. "Look man, I don't know who the hell you are, but you're going to let us out right now. You're a goddamn psycho!"

"Oh, really? I'd like to see you try. This car is one of a kind, young man. It can't be detected, and blocks out radio, phone and WIFI signals. It's also sound proof. Also, I wouldn't struggle if I was you. The more you fight the belts, they only get tighter, which can get uncomfortable. And we've got a long car journey ahead, kids."

Veronica seemed to be locked into a state of shock. Jughead sat stiff, staring hard at the back of the passenger seat, trying to figure out what path had brought him to this moment.

The redhead leaned back, grimacing. Jughead wanted to reassure the boy, tell him it was going to be okay. But was it? He couldn't speak, his gaze glued to the Archie who settled the man with a look of confusion and terror. "What do you want?" his voice was a soft squeak. "You're... you're a friend of my dad's, right?"

"Oh, boy, we were more than that! He hasn't said much about me, has he? I can't complain though. Freddie was my partner. He took you away. All my hard work gone in the blink of an eye. Now I'm taking you back, and I'm going to make you better. Far better, Archie. I've made so many promises throughout the years, and now I can fulfil them."

There was a pause before the man turned to face the three of them, green eyes glittering with unkempt lunacy. Jughead couldn't take his eyes off of him, his crazed expression and twisted lips, while the psycho's words washed over him like waves of ice water.

"I guess it won't hurt to have a play around with your friends too."

3 Years Later.

"Sweetie, what do you think?"

Betty knew her mother's new husband, and now her stepfather, was rich, but she wasn't expecting him to live in a futuristic palace. Cocking her head, she stared, baffled at the structure in front of her. Betty was used to living in Riverdale's suburbia with a white picket fence and neighbours that greeted her on her way to school. This place was in the middle of nowhere, far, far away from Riverdale. Far from home.

But that was good, she told herself. She was away from her father, away from the accident with Polly. A new life, her mother had promised. A new life for the two of them.

"Elizabeth?" Alice Cooper's smile was bright for the first time in what felt like forever, and Betty couldn't help revelling in it. Betty liked to think she had inherited all of her mother's best qualities; bright green eyes, cat-like and mischievous, and light blonde hair she wore in a constant ponytail. Her nose however, was from her father, angular and narrow. From an angle, Betty was sure she looked like Pinocchio.

"It's...nice." was all she could say. The two heavy suitcases she'd pulled out of the car slipped from her clammy fingers and Betty took a moment to fully register what she was seeing. The house looked more like a building that was renovated into a home with its tall windows and spotlights.

Even though the sun was only setting, the spotlights were on, shining bright lights at all corners. It was like looking at a much smaller school. Betty could glimpse fancy wooden stairways through opaque exterior. The house was a series of rectangles constructed of steel and glass. It was unapologetically modern, standing out amidst the manicured lawn as if beamed there rather than constructed. The roof was flat and there was no visible chimney. She could just about glimpse the glimmer of a pool on the top porch, chlorinated water sparkling in the late afternoon glow.

"Nice? Come on, I'm sure you can think of a better word than that." A familiar voice boomed, and Betty twisted around to roll her eyes at the man still lugging suitcases from the car trunk. FP Jones wasn't usually the type of man her mother would fall for. After all, Hal Cooper had been blonde haired and blue eyed, a so-called gentleman.

A least thats what Alice described his teen self as. FP was the opposite. Despite being rich and owning a house which looked straight out of Architects Today magazine, FP still wore old flannel and forgot to shave sometimes. He was tall and gangly with five 'O clock shadow and warm eyes. FP was the best thing that had happened to her mother, and if Betty had to bite her tongue and pretend this man was her new father, then so be it.

"Beautiful." Betty corrected herself, smiling widely at the man. "It's really beautiful, Mr. Jones."

"Oh, please. Call me FP."

A smirk played on his lips. "It's a beaut... just like your mother, Betty." he slung his arm around Alice, pulling her into a kiss. "That right, Alice?"

Alice chuckled, pushing the man away with a laugh. "You're a tease, FP."

Betty had often wondered how exactly the two of them had met, since her mother was a real estate agent, and FP was apparently Elon Musk. Alice Cooper was everything he wasn't; pastel pinks, blue eyes and lavender perfume, a woman living a fantasy in suburbia, despite losing everything three years ago.

FP Jones smelled like old library books and motor oil. He wore the same clothes every day and barely shaved, often embracing his ever growing beard. Despite being what Betty was pretty sure was a millionaire, considering where he lived, he stayed humbled. Kind. He helped Betty with her homework the best he could, insisting on taking both her and Alice on days out to the beach or long road trips to LA. In other words, FP Jones was one of a kind. Alice Cooper was a force to be reckoned with. They couldn't have been any more different and yet they clicked.

It was love at first sight, Alice had told Betty, a huge grin spread across her lips. Though that's all the details Betty was given. The wedding was small, with just the two of them, Betty as a bridesmaid, and some of FP's family. Alice had insisted on keeping the wedding a secret from her side of the family. Her mother and FP had wed on a tiny island in the Mediterranean, cherry blossom raining down on them. Betty wore a long red dress that perfectly hugged her figure, a rose braided into her blonde curls.

It was the perfect reception and her mother had never looked happier. Even if the idea of happiness had been a foreign concept several months earlier. Betty and Alice were on the brink of being thrown out of their own house, after Hal Cooper had taken almost everything. After her sister's death, three years ago, Betty didn't think either she or her mother would ever recover. And it still hurt. Even now, she still felt hopeless, that deep cavern in her chest that had been Polly. Now though, with help, she could control it.

Betty could control her emotions, learning from a therapist every week until they could no longer afford it, that it was okay to cry. It was okay to bottle things up and just scream and scream until her throat was raw. About her father. About Polly.

FP had saved the two of them. At least that's what Betty liked to think.

As soon as they returned to Riverdale, he had offered them saving grace, insisting on letting them move in. Alice had refused at first. FP liked to call his home his place of work, and she insisted on not intruding on his work space. She wanted a real family home. Though "real family homes" were expensive. The Cooper-Jones's didn't have a choice.

And now here they were.

"Shall we go inside?" FP was playfully pulling Alice down the path before she could reply, Betty following along, lugging her suitcases.

"Elizabeth, leave your luggage. I'll get my assistant to bring them in," FP said over his shoulder. Betty hesitated before dropping them with a nod and hurried to catch up.

thanks for reading! :D I'll be updating this every Tuesday! Feel free to leave a review, and tell me what you think!