September 1991, school, sex, drinking, drugs, being the new kid, parties, death, pregnancy scares, homophobia, STD's, sports, fashion, parents, fights, abuse, cheating, just some of the turbulent challenges any regular teen faces in the quiet New Ha...
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The piercing beeping from Hal's state of the art alarm clock are the first thing he hears on his first Monday back from summer vacation. Junior year had officially begun.
His hangover from Saturday night was still in effect, and he had truly underestimated the impact of spirits, marijuana and unknown mixed pills had on the soul body and mind. His head was pounding, like the edge of his skull was being repeatedly hit with a sledgehammer and he needed something to take the edge off pronto.
Taking his cellphone out of his bedside drawer, he dialled up Hiram. He didn't care if he was asleep, he needed something strong to stay awake and would be expecting him to have it as soon as he would arrive to school, because Hal was always used to getting what he wanted.
He wasn't a regular drug user, he'd smoke a joint or something every now and then, just to calm his nerves, just like everyone else would, but he wasn't afraid to try everything under the rainbow, not down to pressure or anything, but because he found enjoyment in it.
The only thing that ever made him think twice about going down that thrilling and liberating road were his parents. His perfection and reputation obsessed controlling parents. Caroline and Lewis Cooper, coming right from the bloodline of one of Riverdale's founding families, the most respected family in all of town.
Reputation and putting on a facade of perfection was their main priority, it certainly came before their children's general well-being, and Hal had realised that from a young age. Their controlling nature and pressure on him and his elder sister Cassandra to be impeccable in every aspect of life from their education, their hobbies, their behaviour and even their physical appearance had slowly but surely taken its toll on him over the years, causing him to feel trapped and constantly on a string run by his parents.
He didn't feel like their son at times, he felt like their puppet, which is exactly why he'd use drugs and alcohol, routinely get fucked up at parties and screw any girl with a pulse in order to boost his ego, and give him that little bit of control he had been deprived of his whole life. And he was smart about it too. He disguised his drug usage from his parents very well and as for the girls he sought out, he chose a specific kind. He was picky, like any other man on the planet. He liked blondes mainly, blondes with nice bodies, perfect skin and pretty faces, not too much make up, which was probably the first thing he noticed about Alice Smith.
She was the archetype of his ideal woman. She was a bad girl, a rebel from the wrong side of the tracks and in his mind that was hitting the jackpot and striking gold, not because bad girls were the best type of girls, but because he knew that meant she came with baggage and rough background, so to him she had to have some sort of low self esteem issue along with vulnerability by default, which in a sick way, made him feel good because it meant she was susceptible to control, his control. He also assumed she'd be good in bed, which was an added bonus.
