#shq.starter

It had been weeks since the fire, the collective traumatic event shared between the residents of Riverdale. And through private therapy sessions and various other distractions, she found herself somewhat starting to get back to normal. Whatever their normal was anyways. Betty hadn’t spent a day to herself in days, if not those weeks. And there was only one place she knew where she felt comfortable and at home, under the neon lights of Pop’s. She walked past the normal booth, opting for the back corner before she slid in. Hoping no one was going to notice her. Feeling a presence beside the table, she looked up from the menu she was mindlessly looking over to order, when she realized that it wasn’t a waitress ready to take her order.

Tabitha was standing behind the counter preparing a milkshake for a pickup order when someone came and sat down at the bar top. Assuming this was their milkshake, and knowing the reputation of the people in Riverdale she turned towards them to give them a fair warning. “Listen, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I am not like my grandfather.” she started, sarcasm lacing her voice as she sat the milkshake she had just finished, down on the counter top and sliding it towards them. “You do have to pay for things you know. You can’t just keep a running tab open. I bet you owe, like at least a thousand dollars by now.” Tabitha tilted her head to the side and smiled her charming smile, as she looked at the customer. “Pay up. I take cash or card only. your choice.”

it certainly was  … a bit of a mess. frosting covered her nearly from head to toe, all over her hands and shirt, some had even managed to splatter onto the counter. her chin automatically ducks out of embarrassment, eyes avoiding their gaze.

Betty was giggly as she made her way out of the upstairs bedroom that her and Jughead had snuck off too. Still buzzing and high off their good time they had shared. Fixing her dress she casually made her way back down the party that seemed to still be in full swing. Acting as nothing had ever happened and just as she was about to find a familiar face in the crowd to chat with, the electricity in the Lodge going down. With screams from the other patrons from the shock of the sudden darkness, it was like Bettys buzz had completely worn away instantly. As her gut feeling from earlier in the evening got even more intense. Betty knew this party was too good to be true, that something was going to end up happening. 

It took an act of Sweet baby Jesus himself to get Cheryl to even think of coming to this party in the first place, and she had shown up fashionably late as she always had. Looking flawless in her sequined red cocktail dress, but that was neither here or there. Between the lackluster music choices and performances of people so drunk they could barely stand. Seriously, If she had to hear one more person sing a bad Britney Spears song off key one more time, she was going to lose it. To the two-star (at best) food choices, Cheryl was on her way out of the door. She had barely, if at all, talked to anyone in the past seven years as it was, and this party was only confirming why she hadn’t.

“Are you just gonna stare at my ass all night or are you going to at least buy me a drink?”

Sitting in the small coffee shop, Winter tapped the end of his pencil on the open sketchbook laid out before him. In need of inspiration, he took to one of his favorite places in the city to people watch. He watched an elderly man with a large crooked nose fight with what seemed to be a plastic wrapped biscotti -probably brought from home. Looking over he noticed a pretty blonde with large sunhat adorned with little ruby red flowers. Tilting his head a little, the male watched as she sipped her drink before the corners of her mouth gently curved skyward in enjoyment. Looking down at his sheet of paper, the male began to sketch as quickly as he could. He glanced from his subject to the page, trying to capture whatever it was that drew him to her. Perhaps it was the curve of her lips or the way her delicate fingers gripped the cup, or maybe even just that ridiculously over the top hat. Whatever it was, he needed to capture it, but alas his hand wasn't quick enough.