Note: This story was written with the comics universe in mind, but I do see as a blend of the show and the comics.

1.

When the final bell rang, the usual clamor of students echoed through the halls of Riverdale High. Kevin was stowing his books away in his locker when Jughead joined him.

"Want to get a burger after school?" He asked without preamble.

Kevin shook his head, giving him a chagrined smile. "Sorry, but I've got to go home and finish my homework before swim team practice tonight, and then I have to get the student government posters done."

Honestly, he could make the time if he wanted to. He hadn't slept well the past few nights despite feeling absolutely fatigued. If he truly desired, he could complete both his homework and the posters after practice; it was better than being stuck with insomnia, tossing and turning and worrying that there was something he was forgetting, that he was going to fuck up and make a mistake for everyone to see.

Jughead shrugged, already turning away, and Kevin realized his response was expected.

"Okay," Jughead said. "Maybe some other time."

"Yeah," Kevin agreed, hoping the cheerfulness in his voice didn't sound as forced to Jughead as it did to him. "I should have finished my megalomaniacal takeover of Riverdale High by then," he joked.

Jughead laughed with him, then said a quick goodbye and departed, moving through the throng of students milling about the hall.

Wondering if Jughead knew he was deliberately putting him off, Kevin watched him until he vanished around the corner. It wasn't that he didn't like Jughead or didn't want to hang out with him. Quite the opposite, actually—they were best friends, and Kevin was interested in Jughead in a way that went beyond platonic. And if Jughead's continual invitations were anything to go by, which persisted despite Kevin always having another obligation elsewhere, he felt the same. But it was just as well they never got together.

While "it's not you, it's me," was one of the all time clichés for ending or preventing romantic relationships, Kevin couldn't help but feel it sincerely applied to himself and Jughead.

Kevin's social success wasn't so much that he was good with people as much as that he was good at manipulating people. As someone who had unwillingly moved across the country as well as to different countries on a regular basis, he knew that a good reputation was an essential tool for surviving in a new community. Which was why he began signing up for student government, sports teams, and various clubs the moment he set foot in Riverdale. Image was everything, and he had to cultivate the ideal picture of himself, a person the people around him would not only accept, but admire and appreciate. In a way, he wasn't so much an individual as he was a brand that he constantly needed to market to everyone around him.

Everywhere he went in Riverdale, Kevin found himself playing a role. At school, he was the all-American: junior class president, top athlete, national honor society leader, governor and member of numerous other clubs, and just generally a nice guy. At home, he played the role of both parents, as they were off travelling for work more often than not, and the sole caretaker of his younger sisters. As much as it exasperated him at times, being forced to take on adult responsibilities while he was still in high school, it was better than the alternative. Kevin didn't particularly like his parents, and he doubted they liked him, so he preferred that they stayed away and left him alone.

He wasn't anything else because he couldn't be anything else. He did what he did because he needed to get by, not because he wanted to.

One of the reasons he so readily gravitated toward his set of friends from the very beginning, was because they didn't seem to care very much what others thought of them. Well, Veronica and Reggie both did and didn't. Veronica wanted to own the latest fashions and accessories, to be recognized as stylish, as a trendsetter, but it didn't matter to her if people called her spoiled or snobby along the way. Reggie wanted to be on top, to be declared the ultimate winner, but didn't seem bothered if he had to step on others along the way.

But no one's opinion ever seemed to bother Jughead, and Kevin admired him for his unflappability. He didn't appear to have many goals beyond eating, sleeping, video games, and just was utterly content with his existence to the point that Kevin couldn't help but envy him. He wished he could have spare time where he didn't feel consumed by a feeling of wrongness, that the universe must be out of alignment if he didn't have some task or another to plan and complete.

Despite his lackadaisical efforts in school, Jughead was much more perceptive than most gave him credit for. He had a gift for looking at people, observing their behavior and pinpointing their strengths, weaknesses, and attitudes.

If Jughead and Kevin were to begin dating, he would undoubtedly uncover the truth: beyond his dozens of activities and playing single father to his little sisters, Kevin was absolutely devoid of any meaningful personality. He had restructured his character and demeanor so many times during his family's frequent moves that there was no true identity left, just an empty facade.

Being found out for his inadequacies was Kevin's greatest fear. Beyond that, he valued Jughead's friendship, his humble, nonjudgmental companionship, too much to risk being discovered as a fraud. And if it meant rejecting Jughead, then that was what he had to do. Besides, Jughead deserved better than some shallow con man, anyhow.