Hi! A few things -
I know there's technically a spelling error in the title. It's intentional.
This is my first foray into a fandom - that isn't HP - in a long time. I'm nervous about it. But I love Riverdale way too much and I just cannot not write for it, especially since we get no more new content until October 11th.
This one is an AU. (I'm currently working on a few other small ideas that are waaay more canon in nature, but I can't resist a good AU. Obviously. So to clarify: Betty grew up in Riverdale, but Archie, Jughead, and Veronica did not. Don't worry, they'll be around soon enough.
She hits 'Upload' and purposely turns away from her computer. Her gut is in knots and she doesn't know what will happen or if people will even take interest - they probably won't and she'll have about 7 views and then she'll know this wasn't her calling after all - but all the same -
It's nerve wracking.
Betty Cooper moved to New York City for a fresh start, for something more than Riverdale could offer her. Small-town charm was, well, charming, and she missed it sometimes. Walking down very quiet side streets, never having to worry that someone might be following her in the dark. Hearing the June bugs in the grassy meadows behind Pop's, the heat of summer stifling and humid against her skin.
Of course, New York had that too. It was like the buildings held the heat from the sun and radiated it back to passers-by, regardless of the fact that the most recent heat wave had been, quite literally, deadly. Heat stations were popping up across the city in an effort to give citizens a resource when it came down to the hottest temperatures New York had seen in a few years.
Being a bundle of nerves was no new experience for Betty, and so to combat the roiling in her stomach, she pulled on her runners and descended from the penthouse suite into the bustling streets. As she warms up for a run around the neighbourhood, she tries to push the thought of her first YouTube video out of her mind.
It's harder than she thought, ignoring the gnawing feeling in her intestines, the dizziness that crops up when she thinks about the fact that she had just uploaded her face to the internet and now it's out there and it can never really be undone, even if she changes her mind and takes it down.
The pounding of her feet on the sidewalk, though, helps. It's rhythmic. Rhythms and patterns and predictability had always suited her, especially when she feels like she isn't completely in control. She keeps the beat even, her legs pumping in even-paced synchronicity. Against all odds, the background noise begins to fade and the sound of her own steady breathing fills her ears and pleases her in a way she's sure can't be entirely healthy. She spends the rest of her run counting the beats between inhales, the beats between each left step, and examining the carefully-curated pattern they create together.
Betty arrives back at the penthouse she still isn't sure she actually lives in, sweaty and flushed and thirsty as all get out. The summer sun had spent the entire time beating down on her shoulders and making her skin damp and sticky. The doorman greets her kindly, as he always has, and lets her into the lift.
With every floor that she ascends, Betty can feel the tight grip of anxiety on her trachea grow and she shoves it away under the metaphorical carpet.
This whole experiment had been a side project to keep her busy while she settled herself in the city; having no friends made her keenly aware of her own loneliness and actually posting the video had been an exercise in human connection. Her roommate was great, but they hadn't spent much time together since her move in day.
Veronica Lodge was a busy woman. Busy with what exactly, Betty wasn't sure. The dark-haired goddess that lived down the hall from her always seemed to be dressed like she was on her way to a formal dinner or philanthropic fundraiser. Veronica was hardly ever home as well, due to the fact that she spent copious amounts of time at her boyfriend's place.
It suited Betty just fine, but the apartment was sometimes much too quiet for her liking.
She peels off her clothes upon entrance into the suite, balling up the warm, damp fabric and dumping in her laundry bin as she passes her door. The bathroom was magnificent, and Betty still wasn't used to the luxury she seemed to have stumbled into, luxury she was sure she would never see again after moving out, whenever that came around.
The ad on Craigslist had intentionally not had good quality pictures, according to Veronica. She didn't want hoards of people to interview for the position of her roommate. She was a very particular girl, it seemed, and she had spent 40 minutes interrogating Betty about herself before concluding that yes, she was a good match.
And the rent was surprisingly cheap.
"I'm not here trying to gouge you; I already know that you're enrolled in school and you likely can't work full-time. I just want a trustworthy roommate who isn't a total ass, who respects privacy, and in return, you have a nice place to live at less than the cost of a gross bachelor suite in any place not on the East Side. Pretty simple," Veronica had replied after Betty asked why the rent was so low, low enough that Betty's saving account probably wouldn't even have to be dunked into. "Besides, Daddy owns the place."
Betty was incredibly grateful.
The brunette had given her the tour, and Betty had been speechless. Wide-open windows, expanses of hardwood, veined marble. Betty hadn't even known how pretty authentic crown moulding was until every room of the apartment had showcased it obviously.
"I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness," she had mumbled at the time, to which Veronica had scoffed.
"Hardly," she'd answered. "Plus, I have a feeling we'll be great friends."
Betty didn't really see how, considering their incredibly different upbringing, but nonetheless, her roommate was pleasant and cheerful and she couldn't ask for more.
After scrubbing her skin squeaky clean, Betty emerges from the palatial bathroom in a cloud of steam and a plush white robe with her initials monogrammed on the front pocket. Part of Veronica's welcome gift. She wasn't used to girls being so friendly and not having ulterior motives. Back in Riverdale, well…
It was a small town. Football and cheerleading were the epitome of popularity, and Betty had definitely not been a River Vixen. Cheryl Blossom had seen to that, perpetually making Betty the awkward centre of attention just so she could embarrass her.
But, thankfully, Veronica was different.
Weeks passed.
As usual, Betty had been overreacting to the posting of her video. While she did get more than 7 hits, it wasn't that many more. But no mean comments or hecklers, so she decided to keep posting little pieces, and seeing where it might go. In the very least, she would have something to look back on and something to put in her portfolio, if she decided to go the journalism route. She could appreciate having a secret card in her back pocket to pull out in case of emergencies.
And then -
Then her 5 minute-43 second video on animal conditions at a local pet shelter was cited in a Buzzfeed article, and everything changed.
A/N: Let me know what you think so far!