(Y/N) (L/N). A name well known in the small town of Riverdale, "The town with pep!"
Everyone will know who you're talking about when you say the name (L/N), and it's all because of the wrong reasons.
Rich, but not loving the spoiled lifestyle. Beau...
Run up the field. Run back. Do it again. Run up the field a longer distance. Run back. Do it again.
Suicides can be fun to run if you're doing it just for the hell of it, or to make a joke of yourself. I wish I could affirm that this is purely for embarrassment's sake, but that sadly isn't the case here. I have to face the music here: I am running suicides because I'm stressed and I need to find a way to alleviate all of it.
I don't understand what's going on with Jughead. He's been getting nervous, and I'm getting worried. It's out of character for him, so I've been getting worried. This little detail isn't visible to just anyone, but it's been more obvious since Cheryl pulled me over to the booth in Pop's. I quite frankly want to get down to the bottom of his worries, but I do have a fair amount of questions; is something going to happen? Is he in danger?
Oh, who the hell am I kidding. I'm trying to juggle a ton of bullshit currently, so why do I think I can handle the mystery that is Jughead Jones III?
"(Y/N), honey! You might want to come back inside. We're opening up the mechanics shop tomorrow," my dad yelled from the back door. I stopped running and turned to look at him, a light sheen of sweat glinting off of my forehead in the moonlight. I nodded and started jogging over to the door.
"Got it, Dad. When do I need to be up again?" I inquired. I do need to know when to wake up as the two of us need to prep the business early in the morning for incoming customers.
He shrugged. "I'll just wake you up, if that's good with you?" I responded with a short 'yeah' before almost-stomping into the kitchen area. I made an immediate turn to the fridge for a bottle of water. Once I found a nice and cold one, I started chugging it.
My dad walked in after me and up the steps to the second floor. He turned to the direction of his room, but he paused and leaned over the railing before continuing his adventure to the comfortable bed. "How long are you going to take to get ready?" I simply shrugged.
"More than likely about thirty minutes at the most. I'll be ready way before we leave. The opening starts at eleven, right?" He curtly nodded and continued on the way to his room. I checked a nearby clock. 11:03.
I need a shower. That could help me relax, possibly even think of an explanation.
I finished the bottle of water, crushing it and pitching it into the nearby trash can before marching up the steps to my room. Once I got there, I began to rummage through my closet, looking for an outfit I could wear tomorrow.
While I was digging through the closet, I was thinking. Jughead...is something hurting him? Is his father abusing him? Neglecting him? Is he getting too stressed? Dear god, I wish I knew...
After finding an outfit, I set them out on the seats by the set-up mirror and grabbed the undergarments I could change into once I'm done with my shower. After checking over the outfit for one last time, I exited my room and went to the bathroom.
(This is the bathroom, just so you have an idea of what it looks like. If it isn't to your personal preference, feel free to reimagine it however you like.
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