YELLOW || Jughead Jones

03

chapter song: "Comfortably Numb" Pink Floyd

     Samantha woke up due to a lack of warmth.  She found herself settled in the soft soil of the poppy field, looking up at a dark, arched sky speckled with stars. The sun had yet to rise and renew the black canvas into one of peachy pinks. The night was refreshing, and a slight breeze stirred the plants she lay among. It must've been around 3 AM. This wasn't uncommon - Samantha wandering into the field and remaining there until the next day. The field was her sanctuary, an escape. It is such a beautiful, serene place it bewildered her that nobody else in the small town of Riverdale, knew about it. Even her dad didn't know, because Samantha always managed to sneak back into her room before he awoke, before the sun tinted the sky. Her mother knew about the field though. Little Samantha was the one who showed it to her. Samantha doesn't have to worry about her mother revealing the location to anybody, simply because her mother died when she was eleven. She decided to remain there in silence, usually soft music is playing from her phone, but not today. The dark thoughts she tends to have go away when she's in her field. Perhaps Samantha feels like she's with her mother somehow, perhaps it's just the feeling of being content, perhaps it's all the yellow flowers surrounding her.

     After watching the sunrise, Samantha stayed in the field. After a few peaceful hours of humming to herself and wandering around the field stealing the occasional flower, Samantha was building up an appetite. She continues her scenic journey and walks to Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe. She takes her own route that consists of walking a small path that winds through the trees that seem like they reach the clouds, and releases her at the back of Pop's.

Samantha's POV

     Opening the door and stepping into Pop's I notice its busier than most afternoons. I suppose it's the morning buzz, seeing that adults are ordering coffees on their way to work, and teenagers and children are collecting small foods to go as they continue their course to school. A boy across the room stands taller than skyscrapers and compared to me he is touching the clouds with the tips of his fingers. His eyes are a combination of the grey sky after the rain passes and blue water that lines a tropical coast, from a distance he is beautiful but as you near him you slowly see his tragic downfalls that call to me with with such benevolence. Jughead Jones. An outsider, a writer, a boy who is unfazed by most, but knows more than he lets on.

     I know of  him, I personally do not know Jughead Jones. But I want to, God do I want too. He has an aura surrounding him that is so alluring, but I've learned not to fall for that. He reminds me of an old song that you hear on the radio, the kind that fills you with nostalgia and gives you chills along your spine, the good kind- the really good kind. Jughead Jones reminds me of the middle of November when the breeze is crisp but the air is warm and everywhere you look you see people adorned in sweaters and when you breathe you smell the season. His skin looks so pale, it looks so grunge, he makes it look like there's an abundance of things he's never done. Oh dear, his lips look so soft - i know they'd mold against mine wonderfully. I shouldn't be thinking this, I don't even know the boy.

Screw it, get out of my comfort zone.
It's fine, just human interaction.
Oh God, human interaction.
No, no, no, it's okay.

     The thought process of Samantha almost stop her in her tracks, but she pushes on.

     She walks over to the booth Jughead Jones himself is starting to settle into. Just as he opens his beloved laptop, Samantha Cross slides into the seat across from him,

     "Hi."

💛

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pastel-floyd (previously pastelpanic)