Summary: As a Serpent, Jughead had learned to expect the unexpected. But as an unknown dancer becomes the protagonist of his new novel, he realizes that there is nothing that could've warned him about the blonde hidden under the black wig.
Riverdale AU. Based on the CW Characters. Multichapter.
Inspired by Dark Betty and Riptide (Song by Vance Joy).
Chapter I: the mouse
I swear she's destined for the screen
closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you've ever seen
He was the only man with a book at a Whyte Wyrm. Ever.
Around him, people engaged in normal social activities. Some were drinking by the bar, others circled the pool table. The rest were scattered around the area doing things that he could not care less about.
His thumb clicked and unclicked the pen he was holding until it started to get stuck. The blank page in front of him tormented him.
It had been a while since he had been able to write on that book, even though it was with him most nights. Not the most common of sights, earning him a few sneers and mockery from other members of Southside Serpents in the beginning.
They had adjusted to his oddness many years ago, and as he grew older and closer to them, he would even recall times when some would ask him what he was currently writing about.
He had always wanted to be writer. Whether he was good at it or not, it was not for him to decide. But it gave him peace.
The only thing in his life that felt secure. Permanent. Books transcended time, stories never stopped being told. Good stories forever lived in the minds of those who were touched by them.
Words were printed, written, on paper. Unforgettable and unchanging. For someone who had lost so much and had so little in his life, something like that comforted him.
Jughead knew that there were countless tales waiting to be told.
But it had been a while since he had last picked up his book and pen and actually taken the step. The last few times he had tried, real life pushed him out of his fantasy. He did not know where to begin. Maybe it was a childish dream that he had once had. Something he could never accomplish.
His mind had been chaotic for a while, any thoughts of writing pushed to the back of it. But for that very reason was that he decided that he couldn't postpone it out of fear.
All he needed was an inspiration.
Inspiration could be in any corner, if only he knew where to look.
Whistles brought him back to reality and away from his thoughts, the small commotion directing him towards the back of the Whyte Wyrm.
A figure in the center of the bar caught his attention.
Her back leaned against the pole, both hands above her head, as she slid down the metal. Big, green eyes sparkled in the dim light.
His eyes had landed and refused to detach from the unknown, slender silhouette on the stage. There was something mesmerizing about it. About her.
The way her pale skin seemed to glow in the spotlight, contrasting the dark, lacy lingerie that hugged her body. Her midnight black hair following her movements like silk, lips cherry tainted.
In retrospective, the dancer shouldn't have been an extraordinary view to him. And she wasn't. There were, after all, women at the Whyte Wyrm every night.
The difference between those women and this one was that he knew the others. Or at least of them. Perhaps he was not fond of people, but if there was a quality he had mastered throughout the years was the ability to observe others. He did not merely watch strangers, but truly absorbed everything about those he encountered.
In his line of work, and especially in his territory, he had to be smart. And with intelligence came caution. The unexpected did not shock him anymore, as he made sure that he was prepared for the unexpected. That included keeping friends, enemies, and most importantly, strangers close enough.
Jughead tapped his fingers on the table repeatedly, green eyes filling more and more with curiosity by the second. He couldn't help but notice that there were no serpent-like tattoos around her very, if he may add, exposed body.
Only those associated with the Serpents would dare approach the snake-infested venue. There were no random visitors, no unwelcomed intruders.
He would've remembered her someone like her.
"Enjoying the show, Jughead?" The brunette to his right awoke him from the dancer's trance.
His only response to her smug smirk consisted of a shrug, as he leaned back in his chair, his vision perpetuated on the girl on the stage.
The black-haired man heard a snort and an almost inaudible, "Men," accompanied with a roll of Toni's eyes.
As much as he hated to admit it to himself, and as much as he would deny it if ever asked, he was doubtlessly captivated by the nameless dancer.
For obvious reasons, surely. She was undeniably beautiful, yes. He was not blind. Nonetheless, the most enticing thing about her was not her appearance, but something entirely different. It was the way she held herself on stage that fascinated him.
Usually, the dancers would radiate desperation for attention. They wanted to attract men. They wanted to excel over other women. It was an ongoing competition to the point that they became so common that others forgot they were there.
And he did not know a single thing about her. Yet, as he read in between the lines, he could tell that the reason she was up there, pole dancing out of all things, had nothing to do with the aforementioned reasons. Looking at her movements, how she closed her eyes to the music, it was evident that she found pleasure in it.
She did it because she could. Because she wanted to, as if no one was watching her. As if she were dancing in her own bedroom.
Jughead could've sworn that if he were close enough, he would have been able to hear her hum to the melody.
Others were too dense and superficial to notice anything beyond a half-naked woman, if they noticed anything at all. But was she was doing felt quite intimate.
It made him uncomfortable. Like an intruder in his own house.
Her hands traveled up and down her neck slowly. When she slowly opened her eyes, she found him in the crowd, if only for a second. They seemed to have an unspoken conversation while looking at each other.
Her stare was so intense, that he started to feel naked as well. To him, it had felt like minutes.
"Have you seen her before?" he finally spoke without tearing his gaze from those green eyes.
Toni raised one eyebrow, answering, "I thought you had."
"Why?" Jughead furrowed his own.
"Don't you know everyone who walks through that door?"
The tapping of his fingers stopped, "It's not a flawless system."
"So a little mouse finally fooled the snake," his dark-skinned friend mocked him with a laugh.
A voice surfaced from behind them, taking a seat next to the pair, "Doesn't seem like much of a mouse to me."
Jughead snapped his face away from the dancer and towards the source, narrowing his eyes at Sweet Pea's taunting smile.
"I can find out about her, if you want," the man with a snake tattoo on his neck offered with a much more suggestive tone, "I wouldn't mind seeing more of her, if you know what I mean."
The girl with pink highlights countered, "A rock would know what you mean, Sweet Pea."
He chuckled in response, "I'm just trying to help a fellow serpent out. Jones obviously wants to see more of her than the rest of us."
"Not interested," Jughead dismissed him with a look.
"It sure looked like you were," the other guy teased.
"Leave him alone," Toni nudged the other black-haired man on the shoulder, "Trust me, you don't want him to be brooding more than usual."
His friends continued with their conversation adding more teasing and insults, but he had canceled out their voices. He turned around to the previously occupied stage and felt a wave of disappointment invade his senses as he found an older red-headed dancer instead.
Her, he had seen before. Not that he cared whatsoever. The only thing that was slightly relevant was the fact that the redhead wasn't whom he really wanted to see.
"I'm going for a smoke," before locking his jaw, Jughead announced without waiting for any acknowledgement from his friends.
The autumn air caressed his face as he leaned against the wall. He could only hear the music coming from the Whyte Wyrm, increasing its volume every time someone walked in or out the door. The streets, on the other hand, were uneventfully quiet.
Given the cold of the night, there was barely anyone outside. He enjoyed the solitude that the moment provided.
His hand ventured inside his leather jacket to pull out a box and a lighter. He took out a cigarette and brought it to his lips, cupping the area around it while trying to light it despite the wind. It took three attempts before he could take the first hit, smoke rapidly filling his lungs.
The faintest tingle roamed his body as the cigarette started to burn out slowly.
He noticed that he was completely alone. No one usually neared him when he smoked. Anyone who had ever met him knew that he preferred to be left alone in certain moments. Smoking was one of them.
It relaxed him, cleared his mind. Talking to people did the complete opposite. He took the opportunity to enjoy the fresh air as he smoked, ironically.
As the cigarette decreased in size, the final ashes falling to the ground, a creak alerted him that the door was being opened. He was confused when the music didn't become louder.
Jughead noticed that the front door remained unopened. Flicking his cigarette, he walked towards the side of the building, where he knew the backdoor was located.
Before he turned around the corner, someone was already walking in his direction.
Not just someone.
Pale skin, short black hair, red lips, and above all, those big, green eyes that for some reason he believed he would not be able to erase from his mind. This time, however, she was fully clothed.
The girl stopped in her tracks for a moment, locking her eyes with his. He could tell that she was scared for the shortest second, but she regained her calm as if that fear had never been there.
"What are you doing?" he questioned her, forehead creasing.
Instead of replying, she walked past him, completely ignoring his presence. He was a little taken aback for a moment. Anyone who knew who he was would show at least some respect.
"I asked you something," he tried again.
Silence.
The curly-haired man reached her, "Are you scared of speaking?" Jughead gritted his teeth in annoyance at her insolence.
She spun on her heels, facing him with one raised eyebrow. He blinked a couple of times, not being prepared to stand this close to her. Every detail of her face, he could really see.
"You heard me."
"I heard you," she challenged, "I just don't think that's the question you really want to ask,"
Her voice sounded like nothing he could've imagined it, even though he hadn't thought about it at all. But it was difficult for him to match that voice to that appearance.
It was surprisingly soft.
Jughead maintained his collected tone, "If I asked you your name, you would never give me the real one."
One corner of her lips lifted, "Smart boy."
He did not have much a chance to continue interacting with her, as she was already walking away.
"Smart girl," he whispered back for no one to hear.
He followed her silhouette until she disappeared into the distance, but not before a small blond curl escaping the black caught his attention.
That night, he finally decided what his story would be about.
Or whom it would be about.
Lady running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side
A/N: Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a Review!