"So," said Jughead, having waited an excessively long time for his counterpart to get back from the bar. "If you want my complete and honest advice—"

"Not really," the other Jughead interrupted, "but go on."

He sat back down on the seat opposite and raised an eyebrow at Jughead.

"I think you should tell Betty."

The other Jughead considered this, before making his mind up in no time at all.

"I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"Because... what if I really am aromantic like you say I am?"

It was Jughead's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Would that really be the end of the world?"

"It would be the end of us," said the other. "The end of Bughead,"

"Wait, Bughead?"

The other Jughead clarified:

"My intel sources at the River Vixens confirm they have indeed started shipping us. And the ship name they chose... is Bughead. Personally I'd have gone with Jutty, but nevermind."

"That is so..." Jughead began, before realizing that he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "But you're not, are you? Aromantic, I mean."

"I dunno," the other boy said. "That's how a parallel universe works, right? We were both born the same, lived two different lives. But underneath it all, we're still essentially the same person."

"Hey, you said it, not me."

"Actually, it was you who said it."

"I may have implied it," Jughead said guiltily. "So... sorry."

"S'alright. Listen, I know asexuality is a thing you're born with, like being gay or straight. So my guess is that aromantic works in more or less the same way. Am I wrong?"

"Well, yes and no," said Jughead "I've heard of people becoming ace who weren't before when they were like, fifty. People change, or they don't change. Either way is cool in my opinion."

The first time Jughead had been told this in his own universe, it had been explained to him by Betty's older sister, the one who worked as a news reporter. He liked her, but the way she used the word 'valid' four times in a single sentence confused him. Jughead never enjoyed explanations like these. He chose instead to explain it in the way that made the most sense to him, hoping this would make sense to his double too.

"Wait. Really?" said the other Jughead, understanding the sentiment but missing the point. "You mean I might not be..."

His eyes lit up at the thought that he might just be normal, or at least a little less weird.

"Buuuut, probably not in my case," said Jughead. "Cause, yeah. I'm pretty sure I've had the hots for food since the day I was born."

"Way to get my hopes up there, buddy," he sighed. Jughead couldn't help feel some of the other guy's disappointment, even if he was being kind of a jerk about it. As if the thought of his being aro-ace really was the end of the world. The end of his world, perhaps? Given what he'd already said about Betty, that might actually be too far from the truth. It was sad to watch really, but some people really did get this dramatic about their high school romances. It shouldn't be that hard to believe. But of all people, this was the last thing he'd expect from someone called Jughead Jones.

It strained his belief that such a universe could even exist where the local version of himself was like this. Because surely if universes existed with impossible things in them, he ought to have come across at least one with cold fusion, or a magical tree that grows burgers that were both good for you and tasted extraordinary, despite being grown on a tree and therefore vegetarian.

Then again, if the other guy really was aromantic, he would at least come across as such? An aromantic guy wouldn't fret over relationships like every other hormone-addled teen boy ever. As such, it bothered him that this guy seemed worried he might be aro when clearly he was not.

"You know what? I think maybe you're not aro after all. I'm just not picking up that vibe from you. Your attraction to Betty feels 100% genuine. It's like you love her or something."

The other Jughead was taken aback, almost as if he'd never used quite that word to describe his feelings for Betty before, but now that someone else had pointed it out to him, he couldn't not admit it.

"I... what?"

The boy in the whoopee cap barreled on regardless.

"As for me, I love her too, as a friend. Y'know? Or at least the Betty from my universe. Heck, who knows if they're the same person? But you and me, bro? Totally different. You aren't just knee-deep in relationship drama – you're actively hungry for it."

"How typical of you to use a food metaphor."

"Well, I do like food, a lot," said Jughead. "Oh, and speak of the devil..."

At that moment, Pop Tate came over to their table carrying a tray with a meal on it, the one the other Jughead had ordered as a direct result of this conversation. And Jughead couldn't help but feel a little proud of this fact.

"That's a fish filet burger and sweet potato fries," Pop declared.

"So close..." Jughead moaned.

It wasn't exactly his trademark order, but he tried not to be judgemental of the other Jughead, not least because he'd already berated him enough for one evening.

They made room on the table and Jughead watched as the other guy added condiments, then proceeded to tuck into it. He presumed that their food-sharing agreement from earlier was reciprocal, and so he picked at one or two of the sweet potato fries. It actually tasted pretty good, for a vegetable.

They didn't say much over the next few minutes, but every so often Jughead would hear the occasional notification noises from text messages. He presumed they were coming from the other Jughead's phone.

After a while, the boy in the beanie spoke up again.

"Okay, let me tell you something."

"About what?"

"Me and Betty."

"Oh. Are we still talking about this?" Jughead was about ready to change the subject, but since the other guy didn't respond, the implied answer was, apparently so. "Go on then," Jughead added once the pause had gone on a little too long.

"The day Betty and I first kissed..." Jughead prepared himself to hear a sappy love story. "I distinctly remember it was a Saturday because that was the day of the school variety show, the same day we went to visit Polly at the... institution she'd been consigned to. We'd been on quite a few of our adventures by this point, and on this particular trip, I knew I was mainly there to provide moral support. I don't think she could have made that visit without me, even though I still think I could have done more. Especially when her mom came in, and good grief. I presumed she had quite a big fight with her parents afterward because she texted me about it, saying not to use the front door. It was clear she still needed me, so I climbed in through her window all hero-like and I think I said something like—"

"Wait a second," said Jughead. "You climbed in through her window?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"You mean that thing the boyfriend does in... I dunno, every tacky teen romance drama ever?"

"I'd have gone with Romeo and Juliet, myself."

"The original tacky teen drama," sneered Jughead.

"Eh, maybe you're right. It's hard to tell sometimes. 'Cause right now my life feels like one of those dramas."

"Really?" said Jughead. "That sounds dull. I personally think of my life as a mystery-adventure comedy-thriller movie. Starring me of course."

"Hey, now there's a thought," said the other Jughead. "If your life was a movie, who do you think would be in the starring role."

"Oh geez, I haven't thought of that," Jughead replied. "Ezra Miller?" he said with a shrug.

His double thought to himself for a moment.

"How about the Sprouse twins?"

Jughead tried to remember which was the last episode of Friends he had seen them in.

"Really?" he said. "But they look nothing like us."

"Yeah, but I was thinking," said the other guy. "We'd get Dylan to play me, and Cole could play you."

"Oh sure, give me the evil twin!"

"Fine, you get Dylan and I'll take Cole. Is that better?"

"A little," said Jughead, with a grin. "So uh, tell me what happened after you went and climbed into the window."

He casually sipped on the remains of his drink, which by now was just thawed ice cubes.

"Well, you have to understand, I was still in the mindset of providing moral support. Otherwise I don't think I could have done what I did that day. And I knew what Betty was going through. I told her exactly what she needed to hear."

"Which was...?"

"About how crazy we all are, and that she is not either of her parents. Then there was this long, awkward silence, like maybe she thought I'd had something else to say, but I had no idea what else it could be. Then it occurred to me that she might really want me to kiss her. I wasn't really thinking about myself or what I wanted. It just... felt like the right thing to do. And yeah, that was when I kissed Betty Cooper. The relationship pretty much snowballed from there."

Jughead widened his eyes, daring to believe what he'd just heard.

"Wait a second," he said. "You're telling me that you started a romance that you didn't want?"

The other Jughead was just about to break under his questioning.

"Yeah, well... I gotta admit, I did like some of the relationship stuff that came afterward," he said, backpedaling at once.

"Sure. But are you telling me..." he said, "that this whole relationship with Betty... is a sham?"

The other Jughead froze, as if frightened by the mere suggestion.

The Jughead who was asking the questions began to think maybe he'd gone too far with that one.