Bughead Oneshots

"I thought it was cute."

(Part 2 of  "What the hell is this?", but it can also be a stand-alone if you so wish)

Jughead didn't leave because Betty Cooper turned on him. He might've been a fool in love, but he's not actually that much of a loser. No offense. No. He left because his already shitty everyday life turned into even more of a nightmare when he started to be seen as Riverdale's resident stalker. His father couldn't deal with the extra whispers and disgusted glares thrown at them, so he fled, whether from life or just from Riverdale, Jughead doesn't know.

Anyhow, then he left, too. He left Riverdale, went north, and ended up in New York for the last few months of his senior year. He finished high school, maintained a low profile, got an academic scholarship (he's not religious, not at all, but he thanks God for that one), and started an English degree at NYU.

Now, he's in his second year, and his name is still mostly unknown. It's totally voluntary, though, because he's done public shit. Written in the school newspaper, had short stories posted in the real (!!) newspaper, but all has been done under a pseudonym. He doubts that his few half-friends know that it's him. They probably don't even know his real name. Whatever.

He doesn't think much about his old life anymore. Not about the parts that hurt, anyway. The only thing that he does think about, however, is Betty. Not super surprising, but still. In a weird way, he still loves her. Sometimes he thinks that it's only because she used to be the only stable part of his life for a scarily long time, but other times, he thinks that he actually was in love with her.

That's probably it. It's never worked with anyone else. Sex? Absolutely. He's had loads of that, with loads of different people. But relationships? Love? No. He's still as single as ever.

This Saturday morning, like most others, he gets flirted with by the customer in front of him. Maybe flirted isn't the right word. More like being stared at and having to watch the guy in front of him smile a suspiciously white smile at him while they're waiting for the receipt to print.

When it does, he silently thanks the gods. The guy in front of him is the type that Jughead would go for literally any other day of the week. Tall, preppy vibes, cute smile. But today he's fucking exhausted. Just like he's been the last week or so. He's stayed up during the nights to finish an essay that's due on Sunday night, one that's, like, a quarter of his grade pre-exam, and he needs to get at least a B on it. If his grades drop, he can say bye bye to his scholarship. So. He's exhausted.

This exhaustion is what he will later blame his offer to teach the new barista on.

See, during his last shift, his boss had come up to him, practically begged him to take care of the new barista starting Saturday, and well. He was too tired to listen, so he'd just nodded along, and just like that, he had promised to teach the new barista the ins and outs of barista-ing (is that a word? He's too tired to care).

And now Saturday's here, and he regrets just about all of his life choices. At least those that led him to this particular moment.

Just as he's about to take his break to go out and have a smoke, to calm his racing brain a bit (and feed his raging addiction, because who is he kidding?), his boss calls on him, and he dejectedly looks down at the unlit cigarette in his fingers and internally screams each and every swear word he knows.

When he turns back around, and steps into the back room, his boss is there, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Again, so great that you could take on this mission. You're the only one I trust not to teach our newbies how to cheat about doing the dishes."

Jughead rolls his eyes, but puts on a smile, because he does try. "Sure."

His boss his almost out the door again, but manages to press in a, "She should be here any moment now, so just stay here. See you!" before leaving, and then Jughead's alone.