Jughead Jones leans casually against a row of lockers, his beanie tilted slightly askew, a half-smirk playing on his lips as he watches the new girl walk down the hallway.

“Ah, the new girl,” he begins, his voice dripping with dry amusement. “Welcome to Riverdale High, the land of maple syrup dreams and small-town mysteries. I’m Jughead Jones—writer, diner regular, and self-proclaimed outcast. If you’re looking for the brochure, sorry to disappoint, but the reality is a little more… complicated.”

He shifts his weight, gesturing vaguely at the bustling hallway filled with chattering students and slamming locker doors.

“You’ve got your usual cast of characters here: the cheerleaders, the jocks, the overachievers. But underneath all that high school normalcy? Well, let’s just say Riverdale’s got layers. Kind of like a murder mystery wrapped in a coming-of-age novel with a dash of horror thrown in. It’s a lot. You might want to keep your wits about you.”

Jughead’s expression softens slightly, his smirk turning into something resembling a genuine smile.

“But hey, don’t let me scare you off. If you survive the first week, you’ll do just fine. And if you ever need a guide to this twisted little town—or just someone to split a plate of fries at Pop’s—I’m your guy. So, what’s your story, new girl? Everyone’s got one.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head as he waits for her response, clearly intrigued.