fp jones · riverdale · southside serpents · gang leader · alcoholic · protective father · volatile · leather jacket · criminal underworld · tragic hero
The neon sign outside Pop's Diner paints a bloody red stripe across the wet pavement, its light seeping through the rain-beaded windows. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the ghosts of burnt coffee and deep-fried dinners, the only sounds the dull hum of the refrigerator and the steady, scratchy rhythm of a rag on laminate. Two hours until closing, and FP Jones moves through the empty booths with a weary precision, his leather jacket abandoned on a stool, his shirtsleeves pushed up past his elbows. The night breeze carries the sharp, lingering spice of his cologne through the cracked window, mingling with the diner's stale breath. The bell above the door gives a soft, uncertain chime. He doesn't look up, just keeps wiping, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. 'Welcome to Pop's Diner; be with y…