Fluorescent Adolescent~Jughead Jones

thirty

His breathing hitched. That, that was good right? Medicine would help him get better and it would make his life better and his therapy helped. Kusho had been taking her's since she was thirteen. 

It'd been late then they'd talked about it. One or so in the moring last year, the windows of her old station wagon cracked open the slightest bit so the smoke could escape without the cold of autumn getting in. Kusho didn't really talk about her feelings. Or her thoughts. None that were deep anyways. No 'what do you think happens after death?' or 'what's really inside McDonald's chicken nuggets'. Nothing like that. She'd just say stuff in passing and you'd have to pick up on it. Things like this she never spoke if she was prompted. 

Kusho thumped her head against the back of the head rest, letting out a long exhale of smoke. "I'm depressed." Poet raised his eyebrows and stayed silent, only nodding for her to go on. She took another drag. "I'm on meds and stuff. I haven't told anyone that. Just you and my mom really know. Don't tell anyone." Poet took an inhale of his cigarette and nodded. "I won't." He was silent for a minute. He could remember how small, young he felt in that moment with Kusho. She was always older than him in age and in knowledge. He didn't know how, because she'd lived in Riverdale all her life and Riverdale wasn't really the smartest place. 

"Do they help?" He'd squeaked out, instantly regretting it, thinking he'd ruined the moment. Kusho said nothing at first but then nodded. "Yeah. They help. In this world you gotta use whatever you can to keep moving forward. Even if it is man made chemicals. Whatever happens you can't get stuck. You got that?" She looked at Poet and Poet looked at her. He nodded and let out a smoky exhale. "Yeah. I got it." 

Poet looked up at Mrs. Keaton and nodded. "They'll help right?"

She gave him a cherry lipstick smile. One he assumed a mother would give to her child. "Yeah. They'll help." She stood up and opened the door for him. "Until next time Poet." 

⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢ ⇠⇢

Shoveling Lo Mean into his mouth, Poet looked up and smiled. The Jones trailer had become a second home to him at this point. First home actually, considering that shit shack Derek called a house was nothing like a home.  

Taking another bite, he shifted making Jughead grunt. Jughead looked down at Poet who was resting his head on his lap. "What are you so smiley about?" Poet bit his lip, containing his smile. "Nothing. I just feel good." 

Jughead met his smile and ruffled his hair, slightly damp from his earlier shower. Any moment Poet was happy was worth his attention. With everything happening it was nice to have little moments like these with Poet. Ones where they could just pretend like nothing was wrong. Where Jughead was just circling maps for fun and not for the Serpent Land. 

Poet held up his chopsticks, Jughead taking the bite before going back to his papers. 

Poet dug around the almost empty Chinese carton, enjoying the silence. A faint Stevie Nicks record played in the background, Jug's marker screeching every so often. 

"My therapist wants to get me a prescription for depression meds." Poet spoke, lowering his eyes to avoid Jughead's gaze. Jughead stopped and leaned back, wordlessly gesturing for Poet to sit up. He did, still not meeting his eyes. 

Jughead cupped his face, forcing Poet to meet his gaze. "That's good right?" A small smile rested on Poet's lips and he nodded. "Yeah. I think so. I gotta forge the papers since Derek definitely isn't gonna sign them. It's easy if I just try and write like a two year old." 

They shared a small smile and Poet went back to his Chinese food, not bothering to look at this fortune. He didn't believe in that shit. 

Jughead's phone rang and Poet leaned away, freeing his arm so he could answer. He watched as Jughead's expression turned from confusion to shock. "I'll be right over."

Poet furrowed his eye brows in confusion. He had a hunch who it was. "Jug, that better not be who I think it is."

Jughead turned to him with a pleasing expression. "It's Betty."

"No."

"Poet, she sounds bad."

"No! She bad news, Jughead. Every time you see, her something happens and it makes you feel like shit. No." Poet growled. Not to mention she fucked with Jughead every time they saw each other which in turn made Jughead distance himself from being in a relationship. 

"Please, Curls. She needs me to come over, she says it's serious."

"Jughead-"

"Please. Just this one time and that's it." Jughead looked at him with pleading eyes, holding his phone in his hands. Poet looked back, sucking on his teeth before he sighed and hung his head. 

"Fine. But I'm coming with you."

----------

Heyyyyy guys, sorry for not updating in like forever. I kinda lost the inspiration for writing and for any of my stories and have just been making new stories but not actually publishing or writing them. You, know, the usual. 

I hope you guys like this, I know it was short and kind of a filler but it's important for the story.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it and as always,

vote, comment, follow! Love you guys!

(P.S. What's a fascination / obsession of yours? I have a lot, a lot of plants and crystals)