Lost (in Your Emerald Eyes)

T W O

Reading books was like an escape from the world for Jughead. He could just lie on his pullout couch, ankles crossed, and get lost in somewhere else, with someone else, as somebody else. There wasn't anything better than that.

"Boy!" his father's voice called. Jughead jerked and sat up, pushing the book under his pillow and quickly lighting a cigarette next to him. FP walked into the trailer that exact moment and Jughead took a deep breath, releasing the smoke afterward.

"I told you not to do it in the trailer," the man grumbled.

Jughead rolled his eyes and stood from the couch, wondering that if he already lit it for a show, he could just as well finish it. Bumping into his dad's shoulder, he left the trailer, shutting the door behind him with a small thud, and sat on the few steps outside.

Releasing another steam of smoke with a growl on his face, Jughead looked at the homeless dog who was always wandering around the trailer park, looking for food and shelter. He had started calling him Hotdog a few years back, and the animal had adapted it pretty quickly.

He blew a whistle and the dog started jogging towards him immediately, the boy keeping his face neutral while waiting for the three-year-old sheepdog to run into his arms. Before that could happen though, the trailer door opened again, revealing his dad, and the dog stopped, afraid of men with alcohol smell on them.

"Jug." The boy didn't answer and simply kept smoking, staring at the dog twenty feet away who had started barking at FP. "You have a shift at the bar tomorrow."

"I know, I have it every night." FP frowned and scratched the back of his neck, getting Jughead's attention. Something was going on. "What?

"Uh... I need to get groceries."

Jughead sighed deeply and stared into the man's cold brown eyes, attempting to find the dad he had once known. There were no signs of him. But Jughead couldn't say no. He never could. So, pulling out some cash from his pocket, he pressed it into his dad's palm, and the man smiled, pushing the beanie he was wearing down to his nose.

Jughead hated it when people did that. The crown-shaped beanie had come to his life at nine years of age when playing on the street with other kids from the Sunnyside Trailer Park. Sweet Pea had kicked the soccer ball too hard and Jughead had been the one to go after it, into a large mud puddle. The beanie was in it, dirty and broken, but he took it with him and let his mom wash it.

Throughout the years, it had become his symbol of hope and memories. Ever since that day, no one had seen Jughead Jones, the 'prince' of the Southside Serpents without that crown beanie on his head.

There were theories on the Northside about him having a bald scalp, and his own friends made fun of it as well, but Jughead kept his head up high like always, having learned how to cope with tough emotions and moments in other ways than bullying them back.

"Get that dog away from here," FP grumbled, the animal still barking on the place. Jughead simply kept quiet and waited until his father was out of the sight, going 'grocery shopping' which he already knew meant buying alcohol, bacon, and chips. When he was gone, the dog stopped making the noise and ran over to Jughead, sitting down next to him while licking his cheek.

"Hey, boy," Jughead said, petting the fur with his free hand. "How have you been today? Did Toni feed you when she got home from school?"

"Do not worry about that, Jones." Jughead looked up and smiled a bit at the girl approaching him. "Hey Hotdog." She petted his fur and pushed the beanie on Jughead's head over his eyes as a greeting, making the guy groan. "Got more cigarettes?"

"You can finish this," he mumbled and handed the half-burnt one to her.

"Ooh, thanks." She took a long drag from it, sitting down beside her best friend. "Joaquin called," she said.