#all of his former colleagues have seen him and drunk and giggling and fully admitting what he was thinking at the time and oh boy

[adorebughead]

Multitudes - Part 2

/ Part One /

*Read on AO3*

Thank you so much for the response to this fic so far. I really hope that you’ll enjoy it as much as I’m enjoying writing it! I wanted it to be ever so slightly less heavier than my previous fic (which isn’t hard to do seeing as FBOW was crazy) but still with tonnes of angst - cause I absolutely live for that shit. I hope you like it, anyway! If you take the time to leave a comment, thank you so much. It means a lot to me and continues to drive me to write!

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This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,

Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,

Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the  themes

thou lovest best,

Night, sleep, death and the stars.

“Ok,” Veronica announced, emerging from the bathroom looking as though she were about to attend the Vanity Fair Oscar after party which, believe it or not, she had actually done twice before. “I’m ready.”

“V,” Betty replied with a smile, “you look beautiful… but now I do feel a little underdressed.”

Smoothing down her skin tight black dress, Veronica popped her red lipstick into her sparkling clutch bag and shrugged. “I have to make an effort. Archie’s going to be there.”

“Archie?” Betty teased, finishing up her faint layer of mascara and blinking at her own reflection. “So, you actually know his name now?”

Veronica laid a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. I always knew his name, thank you very much. You know, after Kevin stalked his Facebook profile in depth for me last night.”

“Oh, really?” Betty raised an eyebrow, chuckling as she ran her fingers through her hair and secured a tight, high pony tail with an elastic that had been beginning to hurt her wrist.

“Archie Andrews, former captain of the football team, part time musician, single, interested in women, dog lover; always a necessity, may I add-“

“Wait,” Betty interjected, throwing the mascara into her makeup bag and zipping it back up. “Archie Andrews?”

“Yeah. What? Do you know him?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “We went to high school together; he was kind of known for being a player. I haven’t seen him in a while but-“

“Ah,” Veronica mumbled, “the downside of going to school in New York. Well, whatever. Haven’t you seen those movies where the innocent, down to earth girl gets the town playboy to fall in love with her and completely change his ways forever?”

Betty smirked. “Sure, but life isn’t a movie, V. I mean, if it’s want you want then go for it. Just be careful, ok?”

“Ok, fine,” she replied, with a teasing huff.

“And since when were you innocent?”

“Anyway,” Veronica sighed loudly, narrowing her eyes as Betty giggled, “enough about me. Have you spoken to Trev since this morning?”

She flinched at the sudden mention of his name, leaning back in her chair and placing her hands in her lap. “No. I’ll probably phone him tonight, after the party.”

“What are you going to say?”

Betty bit her lip, picking at a small piece of skin around her nail. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Veronica declared after a momentary pause, walking over to Betty’s bedside table and opening up the top draw before carefully rummaging around.

Betty’s brows furrowed as she twisted around away from the mirror. “What are you doing?” “Aha!” She cried, retrieving the diamond ring with a victorious smile.

Raising an eyebrow, Betty tilted her head and folded her arms. “Are you proposing to me now?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Wear it.”

“What?”

“Tonight,” she continued. “Wear it. See how it feels.”

Betty shook her head with a snigger. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Pretend for the night that you are engaged to Trev and see how you feel about it. Nobody’s going to know us at this thing, anyway. Kevin said it’s mainly going to be a bunch of out-of-towners who Archie went to college with.”

Betty hesitated, an uncertainty masking her face as she studied the ring sat in the palm of her best friend’s hand. It really was beautiful. Trev had always known what she’d wanted, if ever the day were to come. It was traditional and classy and not to mention totally breath taking. The ring was perfect. The ring wasn’t the issue.

“V, I don’t know-“

“Come on,” she insisted, perching on the end of the bed to face her and picking it up between her thumb and forefinger with a shrug. “You might surprise yourself.”

-

Upon approaching Archie’s house, which, Betty noted, was the size of about fifty of her tiny apartments put together, she and Veronica exchanged a sideways glance of utter astonishment. It wasn’t just the fact that the house was practically a mansion, but it was also located right at the edge of the town’s beach, completely out of the way and surrounded by the most beautiful view of the sea.

“So, he’s rich,” Veronica observed, pursing her lips together and nodding. “Can’t say I’m disappointed.”

Betty rolled her eyes, looping her arm through her dumbstruck friend’s. “Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

Just as she had anticipated, the place was practically swarming with people left, right and centre, either already drunk or very much on their way to it. The music, which was more just a tonne of repetitive bass than anything else, was earsplittingly loud. The interior was clearly very aesthetically pleasing when not overflowing with drunken youths and crumpled up red cups, a notion Betty expressed aloud to Veronica as they made their way through the crowd.

“Youths? Who are you, your gran?” Veronica chuckled between various mixtures of excuse me and can you get out of the damn way? The male gaze very blatantly following her as she did so.

That was the thing about being best friends with Veronica Lodge. You were usually always in her shadow, a fact that Betty had typically welcomed, the thought of being the centre of attention not something she particularly favoured. However, tonight, she could’ve sworn that some of that gaze had also diverted onto herself.

“Betty! Veronica!” A voice bellowed, the both of them twisting their heads to meet with the glistening blue eyes of one of their colleagues and closest friends, Kevin Keller.

“You look amazing,” he exclaimed, observing Veronica up and down, his eyes widening as he did so. “I would consider selling my soul for those heels.”

She chuckled in response before Kevin’s regard switched onto Betty, altering into an abrupt double take.

Of course, after a fair bit of disputing back and forth, Betty had finally allowed Veronica to give her that of a slight makeover seeing as her initial jeans and plain t-shirt were apparently completely unacceptable. Instead, she had ended up opting for a black pencil skirt paired with a white v neck blouse, a neatly tied choker and a pair of nude heels that had been gathering dust in her wardrobe ever since Veronica had given her them for her birthday two years ago. Not only that, but a deep burgundy lipstick lay perfectly on her lips, one her mother had always scolded her for even considering wearing, and her hair was half up, half down; a few soft waves perching just beneath her shoulders. Truth be told, she felt pretty damn good.

“Who would’ve thought our little Betty Cooper could look so fierce,” he cried with an impressed albeit slightly stunned nod.

Betty’s eyes fell to the ground as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, hugging her chest with a small smile. “Thanks, Kev.”

“So, where’s your latest squeeze?” Veronica enquired with a wink, her eyes darting around the room.

“Joaquin is at home, in bed, pretty sick and pretty weak,” he replied with a sigh. “I think I’ve worn him out.”

Betty laughed as Kevin zipped his lips with his fingers. “Annnnd… that’s where this conversation ends.”

“So, let me guess, you’re looking for Archie,” Kevin sneered, tilting his head to catch Veronica’s attention which was clearly momentarily elsewhere.

She whipped her head back around and blushed. “Maybe.”

“And by maybe she means a damn straight yes,” Betty giggled.

“I can introduce you,” Kevin started, “our dads are pretty close so we chat now and again. Unfortunately, I had to turn him down when he told me he wanted me,” he teased. “We all have to make sacrifices.”

The three of them laughed, Veronica’s eyes lighting up at the sudden prospect. “Will you really introduce us?”

“Of course,” he replied, holding out his hand and gesturing them to follow. “But let’s get you a drink first.”

“Liquid confidence,” she smirked. “Good call.”

Grasping Veronica’s hand to shuffle after them both as they made their way to the kitchen, Betty scanned the room for a single familiar face, failing in her endeavour. However, it only took a few seconds before she saw it. A pair of dark eyes fixated firmly on her, but when she furrowed her brows and quickly looked again, they were gone.

“Double vodka and coke, B?” Veronica chirped, as Betty wrinkled her nose in response.

“Maybe just a single.”

“Make mine a triple,” Kevin winked, holding out his cup as Veronica poured the drinks. The three of them released a subsequent cheers as they clinked their plastic cups together.

Two, or maybe three, drinks later, paired with five minutes straight of crying laughing at Kevin’s college reminiscences, Betty was certain she was tipsy. The three of them had swiftly moved from the corner of the kitchen to the centre of the large, open hallway and started to dance, twirling each other around and chuckling loudly as if they had no problems in the world. Betty hadn’t done anything quite like it in a while. In fact, she wondered if she’d ever really had fun like this at all in her whole entire life.

“There he is,” Kevin yelled excitedly, seizing Veronica by the shoulders and swivelling her around to see Archie standing in all of his glory at the top of the staircase like some sort of Hollister model, chatting away to a couple of his friends with a drink in his hand.

Veronica’s eyes widened as she bit her lip. “Oh, Archie Andrews, you don’t know what’s about to hit you.” “Nice to see that liquid confidence is working a treat,” Betty giggled.

“Are you coming?” She asked, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Actually,” Betty started, “I think I’m going to get some air. It’s way too hot in here.”

Veronica raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Ok,” she countered, “I’ll find you in a bit.”

Finally making it outside after awkwardly pushing through what felt like hundreds upon hundreds of people, Betty welcomed the cool breeze she had been craving as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Yep, she thought, I’m definitely tipsy.

Almost instantly, she reopened her eyes and her gaze fell directly onto somebody sat out in the distance, on the ground just above the sand. He was perched over a book, his dark hair falling ever so slightly in front of his face, the rest tucked up inside of the crown-shaped beanie that she wondered if he ever bothered to take off.

Of course he’s here, she rolled her eyes to herself, walking over to where he was sat before she could even stop herself.

“Whitman?” She cried, folding her arms sarcastically. His head lifted slowly, turning to see the source of the voice before stopping slightly as his eyes studied every inch of her sudden change in appearance. After a fleeting moment, he turned back around.

“Jones,” he replied nonchalantly, tucking his pen into the crook of his notebook and closing it shut.

“Never heard of them,” she scoffed, taking a couple of steps forward to admire the view before her as she plonked herself down a few feet away from him.

She studied him from the corner of her eye, waiting for some sort of sarcastic comment, but instead noting how he’d quite briskly returned to silently scribbling away in his notebook.

“What are you always writing in there?” She asked, a tone of mockery and confidence in her slightly slurred voice that actually rather amused him.

He didn’t take his eyes away from his half-filled page as he replied. “The names of all of the coffee shop baristas I’ve pissed off this week.”

She looked away then, a smirk of annoyance appearing on her face as she rolled her eyes. “Well, no wonder it’s taking so long.”

Glancing at him once more, she shook her head and pulled herself back up onto her feet, the sudden movement causing his gaze to switch to her as she smoothed down her skirt and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Going so soon?” He jeered. “What a shame.”

Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands firmly on her hips. “You really like annoying me, don’t you?”

He shrugged, passing the pen between his fingers. “I think you enjoy it more than I do.”

“Ha!” She cried, a little louder than intended. “Don’t flatter yourself, pal. Just because you’ve got a James Dean thing going on-“

His head shot up as he raised a brow in amusement. “James Dean?”

She froze, wondering how the words she had just thought inside of her head had somehow left her lips without any form of warning. “Well, yeah, no, I didn’t mean it like James Dean was hot. I mean, he was. But-“

“Interesting.”

“No, no,” she raised a finger and shook her head. “No.”

After a moment, his stare dropped to her left hand that was still resting on her hip and his grin faltered, if only fleetingly.

“Well,” he mumbled, “I sure as hell send my condolences to that guy.”

It took her a moment to comprehend what he was referring to before the realisation that she was in fact wearing her engagement ring, and had been doing so all night, suddenly overwhelmed her. She blinked, unsure for a moment, unexpectedly feeling its heaviness.

“I’ll have you know that my fiancé is going to be a successful businessman,” she boasted. The word fiancé dropping out of her mouth with a slightly bitter taste before she could even stop it. She wasn’t sure she liked the way it sounded.

He shook his head with a derisive leer, heaving himself up and tucking his notebook into his back pocket. “How very predictable.”

She frowned. Taking a single step closer, folding her arms as he turned away from her. “Excuse me?”

“What is it that you do, may I ask?”

“I’m going to be a teacher,” she said confidently as he rolled his eyes and faced her once more.

“Figures. The businessman and the teacher. What an utterly drab life you are going to lead. Just like everyone else stuck in this place.”

Her brows furrowed as her jaw dropped in astonishment, her eyes widening as his smug yet vacant face burned a hole into her brain. God, he was so irritating.

“I am not stuck anywhere. And my life is far from drab.”

He released an uninterested laugh. “Say it again and maybe you’ll start to convince yourself.”

Her lip quivered as she turned on her heel. “Stay away from me,” she ordered, “and stay the hell away from my spot.”

She stomped away, disallowing him another inevitable snarky remark, her sense of direction wavering slightly as the vodka mixed with frustration and adrenaline began to well and truly go to her head. How dare he speak to her like that.

She wasn’t stuck. She was perfectly happy in Oakwood Bay and she had never had any intentions of leaving. She had been born there, grown up there, just like her parents and grandparents before her, and that’s exactly the life she wanted, and had wanted since she was a little girl, for her children, too. Her life was far from drab, and the fact that this ridiculously rude and highly conceited stranger had even suggested otherwise caused her blood to boil.

“I see you met Jughead,” Kevin announced, leaning against the doorway as Betty trudged over, dangling her heels beside her.

She barely looked up as she tried to shake off her anger, pulling herself out of the depths of her, now rather clouded, brain. “Who?”

“Jughead Jones,” he replied, gesturing over to where she had just come from, the place where black-coffee-guy was now walking out of sight. “He lives here. Just moved in with Archie. You didn’t hear it from me, but he had some trouble back where he came from, so Archie’s dad took him in. I think they went to college together, but I don’t really know much about it.”

She lifted her head in confusion. “Trouble?”

“I don’t know the full story,” he shrugged. “Something with his family. All I know is that he’s had it pretty rough. Rough enough that he had to leave home, anyway.”

Betty gulped, her frustration still hovering slightly as she watched him disappear into the crowd. “Well, all I know is that he’s a nasty piece of work.”

Kevin nodded in agreement, a look of wonder subsequently washing over his face. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to you.”

She slipped her feet back into her heels and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why?”

He shrugged, raising a brow as he studied where her gaze continued to rest. “Because,” he uttered, “he doesn’t talk to anyone.”

-

Once returning back inside, Betty decided that it was probably best for her to call it a night. She had drank slightly more than she was used to, and the exhaustion that followed was beginning to encompass her entire body.

Shaking her head with a smirk at the sight of Veronica’s face latched firmly onto Archie’s at the bottom of the staircase, she decided to sneak past and drop her a text in fears of ruining the moment she’d been dreaming of and obsessing over for weeks. What kind of friend would she be if she’d have broken them out of their slightly unconventional fairy-tale moment?

Betty (23:42): Need my bed. Stay and have fun. Try to come up for air every once in a while ;) Speak to you tomorrow. B x

The walk home wasn’t typically a very long one. In fact, she only lived ten minutes away, but for some reason it felt much longer than usual. She had grown conscious of the clip clop of her heels on the concrete quite early on, echoing throughout the rather deserted streets with every step that she took. Any Oakwood Bay resident who wasn’t at Archie’s party would most definitely have been in bed a good three hours earlier. The sense of isolation had quite rapidly grown a little bit unnerving.

Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, she saw it. The same dark eyes from earlier, but this time they were approaching rather rapidly, and there was an unsettling coldness inside of them. The face they belonged to wasn’t one she felt she could trust. Something in her gut told her to turn back around, and to do so quickly.

“Where are you off to?” He said, something about the expression on his face causing her skin to crawl. She had never seen him before, he was much taller than her, he was wearing a red, v neck t-shirt, his dark hair was shaved and his lips were curved into a smirk.

She decided to ignore him, instead quickening her pace. Her apartment was so close that she could see it. The alarm bells in her head were blaring as her fingers ran over her keys inside of her purse. Everything started to move rather quickly.

“Hey, Blondie,” he bellowed, a little louder and a little closer this time, causing her to flinch, “maybe we can take the party elsewhere.”

She retained her gaze firmly in front of her, clutching onto her cardigan tightly, really wishing that she hadn’t worn heels. “No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on.” She could feel his breath on the back of her neck now, her heart slamming against her rib cage as her thoughts started to race. She knew she shouldn’t have left by herself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Almost as soon as the words had left his lips, and just as she was gearing herself up to strike him and run as fast as she possibly could, a large thud stopped her in her tracks as she released a small shriek. There was an abrupt silence. She couldn’t feel his breath anymore.

“She said no,” a voice hissed.

Turning around slowly, Betty stole a glance at the guy with the dark eyes who was now on the floor just a few feet away from her, grasping his jaw which was starting to bleed. Beside him was the one person that she hadn’t expected to see again, his face filled with rage as his clenched fist hung in mid-air.

“Get out of here, Chuck,” he spat. “I mean it.”

She blinked, the cold air raising goose bumps on her arms as she stood fixated in her spot. Her feet were throbbing. Chuck laughed with not even a glimmer of remorse, his eyes flitting between the both of them before heaving himself upright, his smirk now turning into a snarl.

“Watch your back, Jones,” he growled, before turning on his heel and briskly making his way back to wherever he had come from in the first place. She watched after him and felt a shiver possess her body.

After a few moments of complete, deafening silence, he cleared his throat. “Are you ok?” He said quietly, the tone in his voice unlike the one she had heard before. He went to reach out his hand, but retracted it almost instantly.

Her breath caught in her chest. “…Y- yeah.”

His eyes burned into hers for a brief moment, so much so she could hardly breathe, his expression twisted into something she had not seen before. His once vacant eyes were now overflowing with something new. He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t smirking. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. He wasn’t wearing his beanie.

They drank each other in for a few seconds longer. It was as if he wanted to say something but decided against it, before releasing a single, subtle nod, and stepping backwards. Pushing a couple of dark curls out of his face and tucking his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, he turned, and he left. She stayed, frozen, for a good minute as she watched him fade further and further out of sight. He didn’t say another word, and he didn’t look back again.

Once she had returned to the safety of her apartment, she briskly locked the door and shrugged off her cardigan. Turning on the light switch beside her bedroom door, she bit her lip and walked over to the window, peering outside into the darkness of an empty street, lit by nothing but the moon and all of its stars. A clear midnight. She exhaled deeply.

Pulling her curtains shut and leaving just a small crack for the light of the moon, as she always did, she kicked off her shoes and perched herself at the end of the bed. After taking a few moments to stare into nothingness, she retrieved her phone from her bag and allowed the screen to light up.

One missed call from Trev.

She sighed then, placing it face down onto her bedside table and throwing her head into her hands.

As she laid her head that night, she thought not of the boy in his London hotel room desperately staring at a blank screen. She thought not of her future or of her mother’s forceful hand smearing her red lipstick across her face when she was sixteen years old. She thought not of the beautiful diamond ring which was again buried under a pile of books at the bottom of her drawer.

No, she didn’t think of any of these things.

Instead, her thoughts travelled to the words of Whitman. To the beauty of the moonlit sea, sparkling even when she wasn’t looking. To a pair of piercing green eyes. To the way his quickening breath had hung in the air. To the burning smothering the pit of her stomach.

And, with that, she fell into a deep slumber.

#bughead fic #bughead fanfic #riverdale fanfic #bughead #multitudes