THE UNIVERSE HAS A funny way of bringing people together.

Couples who bumped into each other in the movies, soulmates who sat at the bench in the park together, friends who grew up in the same town together.

Every couple, whether there be or not be a romantic bond between the two, has a story to tell.

Betty and Jughead's story started in a club.

The Le Bain Nightclub is one of the most prominent bars in New York City, located on a rooftop with a splendid view of the city. From a hundred feet high, the buzz of the busy and stressing city life is drowned out by loud music and drunken conversations. Sweaty bodies were pressed up against each other, grinding together, intoxicated people crowding the nightclub.

Everyone was finding a way to escape, not from a dark room or an iron cage, but from the harshness and extremeties of reality.

There are many ways to find release. It may be under a partner's hand, driven by sexual desires. Or, it may be under the influence of alcohol, and that was exactly what Betty was doing.

※※※

BETTY

Elizabeth Cooper craved release. She had just arrived in New York City after she was kicked out by her own father, when she went against his wishes for her to become a lawyer and instead she pursued journalism. She took initiative in suggesting that she leave home and figure things out on her own, an offer which her father quickly agreed to. Obviously, Betty didn't think this through, because the second she arrived in New York City, she had driven straight to the nightclub and was drinking away her problems.

She didn't realize until she was kicked out that she had a little amount of money in her wallet.

She didn't realize until she was kicked out that she had no place to crash.

She didn't realize until she was kicked out that she would be completely alone, no support from her family, no friends to rely on, no one but herself to tell her that it would all turn out fine.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"Betty murmured to herself through gritted teeth, holding the glass of cosmopolitan delicately in her fingers. She had worn a skimpy red dress for the night, hoping the day would end with someone sweeping her off her feet and giving her some kind of release. That was all she wanted.

Release.

JUGHEAD

Jughead Jones wanted release too. Well, he wanted it, but never really craved for it. He didn't know what it was like to want something so much that he would do anything for it, he didn't know what it felt like to actually fight for something.

Sure, he fought for scraps of food and soup cans when he was younger, but it was different.

Usually, he would go out with his friends for a wild Friday night at the club, but since he moved to New York, he wandered around alone, looking for someone he could take home with him. Someone who could offer him release.

Jughead took a cab to the Le Bain nightclub, leaving his car back in the underground parking lot of his apartment building. He had been in New York City for a week already, and since then had been looking for a decent person who he could share his apartment with, which he has valid reasons to do so.

First of all, NYC isn't cheap. His apartment cost him a lot, and even though he has money stashed off in a secure bank account, he'd rather split rent with someone else and share rather than pay the whole bill all by himself and risk losing more money quicker than he anticipated.

Second, his apartment is big enough to shelter two people. Although Jughead liked keeping to himself and the darkness, the nights get lonely at times and he couldn't avoid the chills that ran down his spine as he laid in the dark. What was he supposed to do with all the extra and unnecessary space?

Lastly, Jughead sought companionship. He could have bought an apartment that's small enough just for himself, but the flicker of hope that ignited deep in his heart was inevitable. He could feel it right up to his fingertips—his thirst to have someone with and by him.

That was Jughead's release, companionship of any kind. It was similar to Betty's, who would accept just about any kind of release there is that is offered to her.

It was like the universe glitched, and everything crashed against each other. It worked its mysterious ways, and it was as if the world suddenly revolved around the two of them. Jughead's scrutinizing gaze scanned the entire area, until it stopped and fell on the blonde-haired that sat alone by the counter. He let his eyes linger on her figure longer than he was supposed to, watching as her fingers tapped lightly on the surface of the black marble counter and her drink nearly empty beside her hand.

Jughead thinks she's beautiful, the prettiest he's ever laid his eyes on, but he decided to keep any compliment to himself. He watched as she stared at the mirror wall across her, her fingers resting on the counter, her posture straightening as she crossed her legs together.

From then, it didn't take much time for Jughead to approach Betty, walking towards her in quick and long strides. His knitted grey beanie sat on top of his unruly raven black curls, taming its volume and matching the grey dress shirt he chose to wore to the club that night. Half an hour before he had gone to the club, he had nursed a glass of whisky, the alcohol becoming the main factor of his sudden burst of fortitude. He took a seat on the stool beside her, keeping his head up high, his gaze set on the wall across. Betty kept her head down, fingertips skimming the rim of her glass lightly.

What should I tell her? Should I just say "hey"?

I'll sound like a creep. I look like a creep.

She's pretty. Does she have a boyfriend? Or a roommate? I need a girlfriend. And a roommate.

How is she so pretty?

What if she thinks I'm a weirdo and runs away the second I say "Hi"?

"Hey."

The word slipped out of Jughead's mouth before he could even gather his own thoughts together and work them out in his mind. A sudden chill ran down his spine and he remained silent, gulping silently as he waited for a response from the blonde. Jughead noticed her lift her head up, head tilting to her side to face hum, her eyes wandering around his face.

A lot of people aay that the silence is calming, but Jughead thinks it's bullshit. It isn't always calming—it certainly wasn't in that moment. It was bad and awkward.

She's not speaking. She thinks I'm a creep.

Jughead has given up all hope as he let out an inaudible sigh. The girl must think he was a douche for invading her privacy. A beautiful girl like her must be hoarded with guys if she wanted to, and could be deserted and isolated from everyone else if it was what she desired. He had already swung one leg off of the bar stool, footon the ground and more than ready to leave her alone.

But one word from her lips, and he's a goner.

"Hi."

That's all it took.

BETTY

Betty felt it when someone claimed the stool beside hers.

She knew there was a sudden change in the atmosphere—it wasn't the horrible kind of change, it was just strange. She wasn't sure what to expect in New York City, but she sure didn't expect herself to be in a bar late at night with someone possibly trying to flirt with her.

She had already considered getting up from her seat and leave right away, but for some reason, she stayed. To her, it felt like gravity wad pulling her down, keeping her still and she couldn't move her legs at all. She couldn't quite see the person who sat beside her, and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them.

Who is this person?

She tried sneaking a glance, but from previous experiences, she's learned that she couldn't sneak one to anyone at all—she wasn't subtle enough to do those things, or at least she wasn't subtle enough to to get caught in the act.

What she knew, though, was that the person beside her was a man.

She could smell a hint of men's cologne in the air, and usually those liquids made her dizzy and lightheaded, but in that moment, it made everything fall into place, like everything was right.

Should I speak? If I do, what will I say? What if he thinks I'm boring? Or I'm not pretty enough?

She lifted a hand up, and with a finger stetched, she traced the rim of her glass with the tip of her finger. She kept her gaze down, glued to her drink.

Is he going to talk? Or should I start?

Is he shy? Maybe he thinks I'm too pretty and way out of his league, which is highly unlikely.

Or likely.

Betty had already parted her lips, ready to speak, or at least acknowledge his presence and greet him. Let him know that she's aware that he's there.

"Hey."

He spoke first.

Betty would be lying if she said she was shocked that he did. To tell the truth, Betty actually expected for him to initiate a conversation—no, as a matter of fact, she waited. She waited for him to speak, for him to say something to her. And he did.

It was the first time Betty had a good look at the guy, now that she had an excuse to do so without exerting any effort to be subtle. She was mesmerized by him the moment she saw him, enchanted the moment she met his cold gaze. Yes, cold—but as she looked deeper into the beautiful green storm that were his eyes, his gaze softened.

"Hi."Betty was tongue tied, unable to say more to him than she already did. She would love to get caught up in a staring contest with him more, but alas, the bartender approached them to ask if the man wanted something to drink.

"I'll have a Gin and Tonic, please."He said, breaking his gaze to nod appreciatively at the bartneder, a small smile on his lips. Betty wanted to slack her jaw at the tune of his voice, a sexy mix between low and seductive without having to exert much effort.

"Let me buy you a drink?"It came off more as a question than an actual statement, a suggestive tone in his voice, like he sought for her permission. Betty nodded as a response, taking her cosmopolitan and drinking the remaining content in one gulp. He snapped his fingers to get the bartender's attention.

"I'll have another Cosmopolitan for the lady, as well."

JUGHEAD

Jughead watched as she downed her drink in one gulp. The way she tilted her head back to accomodate her drink, the amount and expanse of her pale skin exposed to him as she drank—he wanted her.

He couldn't tear his eyes off of her, even when she had sat back straight and placed the empty glass on the counter. She tapped her pastel pink-manicured fingernails on the surface lightly, keeping her gaze on anyone but him.

"First time in New York?"He asked her, hoping it would be a good topic for a conversation and not some futile attempt for small talk. She couldn't help but snap her gaze to meet his, and he could almost hear her mind whine at her action, like she was doing such a great job at ignoring him up until the moment he spoke.

"Yeah."The blonde replied with a sigh. "I drove all the way from Riverdale this morning and arrived just a few hours ago or so. I've been going around places to kill time since then. What about you?"

"Me?"Jughead asked, choosing to ignore the bartender as he slipped their drinks beside them on the counter, moving quickly to attend to the needs of other customers. She shrugged her shoulders and took her drink, fingers touching the glass. "Is it your first time in New York?"

"Yeah."He replied, nodding. "I moved from Toledo to study Photography."It was the last thing Jughead expected he'd take up—growing up, he has always groomed himself to study Creative Writing and become a published author or English Literature so he could become a professor, but after his mother died after giving him an expensive camera as some sort ofgoodbye gift, he's got into photography instead.

All major preparations for him to be an author or a professor went down the drain as he picked up the camera and drove to a meadow where he shot pictures of it.

"Where will you study?"She asked him, both of them relieved that they were able to break the ice between them and start an interesting conversation.

"At the New York Academy of Art."Jughead answered, drinking half of his drink in one gulp before he put it back down where the bartender placed it. "Why did you come here? I'm guessing you're here for college too."

"Yeah, I've been accepted to Columbia University. I'm studying Investigative Journalism, and I plan on working with a firm and take on research work about...stuff."The blonde answered, a soft giggle escaping her lips at the end, a smile lighting up her face.

"Seems like you've got it all planned out."Jughead commented with a chuckle, holding his glass. "Other than to go to college, I don't have much plans for the future."

Jughead was wrong.

BETTY

Betty didn't have much planned out. All she knew was going to be a journalist, one way or another.

"Just because I'm set on being a journalist doesn't mean I've got my life planned out."She countered, taking a sip from her drink. "I don't want to rant about my problems, but I have a lot of them right now."She groaned. "That's why I'm here in this club."

"I have problems too, if that's any consolation."He replied, hoping it would give her slight comfort to know that she wasn't the only on stacked with problems. "You know what, you can rant to me all you want."

"I could?"Betty asked him with a light huff, hesitant about lettinghiminherlife. She felt that if she spoke to him more, she's opening up a part of herself for him to see. She felt like she was already making him involved in her life. "I just met you. I don't even know you."

"Jughead Jones."The raven-haired boy replied, stretching a hand out for Betty to shake. She didn't know what to feel first—confusion or laughter because his name, apparently, wasJughead. He seems to have read her mind, because as he sensed the lack of a response from her, he burst into a fit of laughter.

"Before you say anything about my name, I think it's just fair that you know that it's just a nickname."Jughead replied. "Only my family are the people who know my real name, and those who I love dearly."

"You don't seem like you love a lot of people."Betty told him, and Jughead shrugged, but he was in total agreement with her. "I don't."

Betty didn't want to push the topic more, afraid that he might tense up more than he already was, but she could tell that he wasn't the kind of man who you could easily love, nor did he seem like the kind of man to love easily. There was such a little amount of love in him, that he couldn't just share it with everyone he gets close to.

"What's your name, Princess?"He asked her, a cheeky smile on his lips. Betty blushed lightly at the nickname, the tinge of pink on her cheeks difficult to notice in the dim light of the club. She could feel herself get hot, feeling herself tingly. "Betty Cooper."She answered shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine, Princess."There was it, that nickname again. Betty felt like she could explode. After they've withdrawn their hands back to themselves, ignoring the spark that remained ignited in their palms, silence settled over them once again, making Betty twist slightly on her stool.

"Besides attending Columbia University, I don't have anything else."Betty sighed, beginning to rant to clear the air between them. "I mean, I have my car and my stuff, but I have nothing else. I don't have a solid plan, I don't have money, I don't have food, a roof over my head—"

"I do."

Betty shot him an incredulous look. That was Jughead who said those last two words. Was he—no, he didn't mean that. But maybe he did, and if he did, how dare he say that?

"So, what, you just rub it into everyone's faces that you've got everything?"Betty asked in a voice of despite, crossing her arms over her chest as she cocked an eyebrow. Jughead narrowed his eyes, nlt quite getting what she was saying. "What? I'd never!"He protested.

"Well, it seems to me like you just did."

Jughead replayed their exchange of words in his head.

"Besides attending Columbia University, I don't have anything else. I mean, I have my car and my stuff, but I have nothing else. I don't have a solid plan, I don't have money, I don't have food, a roof over my head—"

"I do."

He really does.

"Look, I'm sorry if what I said came out the wrong way. I never meant to brag."He sighed apologetically, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What I'm trying to say is that I do have all those, but I could share."He corrected himself, making sure that his clarification was clear enough. Betty stared at him in shock, eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

This was it for both of them, they could get what they want. A first solution to Betty's problems, and a person to satisfy Jughead's thirst for companionship.

A mutual relationship where both of them got what they wanted, or more.

"Share with me?"Betty asked another time to make sure she heard right. She didn't want to assum anything, and when Jughead nodded his reassurance, she knew she wasn't assuming or imagining anything. "If you want to, of course."He told her, hoping she would say yes.

She would.

"Live with me, please?"

※※※

BETTY COOPER AND JUGHEAD JONES always seem to end up in bed...with different people.

It's just the way things were. They don't commit to people, to relationships, they don't do romance. All they know is that they have each other, they have a strong friendship, and that's all they need.

Betty and Jughead have been best friends and roommates for five years, turning to each other for companionship and support throughout those years since they've met.

Both of them have been developing feelings for each other, keeping them locked away deep inside themselves, a secret hidden from each other, but not from the watchful eyes that have watched them together.

It's been five years, and after an eventful—and at the same time disastrous-—night, both of them learned that secrets do have a funny way of getting out in the open.