𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄, riverdale [2]

NINE

The Southside was the last place that Mariah had ever expected to be. But here she was, sitting in her car outside of a bar called the Whyte Wyrm. She stared up at the little building before pulling out her phone. She skimmed through the missed calls and unanswered text messages. Some were from Archie and Veronica, some from Cheryl, but the majority were from her mom.

She was so dead.

Mariah sent Jughead a text, asking him to meet her there. His reply came a few minutes later.

Jughead🧠: the whyte wyrm? mariah what the hell are you doing there?

She sighed in annoyance at the text before replying.

Just meet me here, please.

His response came a minute later.

Jughead🧠: alright, fine

Mariah let out a sigh before turning off the ignition of her car and unbuckling her seatbelt. Mariah opened the car door and stepped out into the crisp night air. She looked up at the building again. Yeah, she was dead.

The blonde walked forward and toward the bar's entrance. She opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately all eyes turned to her and she pulled her jacket closer to herself. It was obvious that she didn't belong there. She stuck out like a sore thumb in her designer boots and her designer backpack. Her attire practically screamed rich Northsider.

Mariah glanced around the dimly lit bar. She ignored the stares and walked over to the bar. She sat down in a stool and looked up at the bartender. "Can I have a beer?" She questioned. The bartender looked her up and down before scoffing. "You lost?" He asked. "No, I'm right where I want to be. Can you change that beer to vodka. Vodka is strong, right?" She replied.

The bartender looked her over again. "ID," he stated. Mariah looked at him in annoyance before taking out her wallet and pulling out a fifty dollar bill. "I'm fifty," she said, placing the money on the bar and sliding it over to him. The man chuckled, "Looking a little young to be a fifty year old."

"What can I say, I aged well," she replied smoothly. He scoffed and looked down at the money on the bar top. He shook his head and looked at her, squinting his eyes.

Mariah scowled, "You gonna get me a drink or not?" The bartender looked down at the fifty again before finally snatching it off the bar top. "Vodka?" He questioned. "If it's your strongest drink then yeah," she replied. The man looked at her for a moment before nodding and getting a glass before pouring her a drink. When he was done, he slid it across the bar and to her. She picked up the glass, "Thanks."

"Whatever," he muttered before beginning to wipe down the bar. Mariah took a sip of the drink. She coughed when the liquid slithered down her throat. A gag left her lips and she set the drink down. She coughed a couple more times before sighing. She took another sip and began coughing again. "What the hell did you put in this?" She asked him. "You wanted it strong, I made it strong," was his reply.

The door to the bar opened behind her and she could hear rowdy teenagers entering. Mariah paid them no mind as she contemplated taking another sip of the alcohol. She didn't hear the footsteps coming toward her and didn't know that anyone was behind her until a voice spoke up. "What the hell are you doing here?" A deep voice questioned from behind her.

Mariah turned around and looked up at the source of the voice. Her eyes scanned the boy's face, taking note of the bruise that was forming underneath his left eye and the tattoo of a snake on his neck, before they trailed down his body, where she noticed his Serpent jacket. She turned back around in her stool.  "Having a drink," she replied simply. She picked up the drink and took another sip.