"Do you think Archie will sneak out to come and watch us perform?" Valerie Brown asked her friends in a tone filled to the brim with absolute hope and anticipation. It was as clear as day that the Pussycat was crushing on the ginger heartthrob in question. Josie took a casual sip from the lemonade in her plastic cup, purposefully ignoring the fluttering that cascaded down her stomach at the mentioning of his name—it was most likely just pre-show nerves.
Fred Andrews stood a mere few feet away from where the three girls were huddled, conversing with a meek-looking Ms. Grundy. Half the town had come out to attend "The Taste of Riverdale". Every navy blue banner and ochre yellow decoration was perfectly in place, the welcoming scent of puff pastry bites specially catered by Pop lingered in the air and the town hall was buzzing with conversation and friendly energy. "His dad's, like, right there. He'd have to, like, wear an invisible cloak or something—ha, like the one they had in Percy Jackson!" Melody joked.
"Mel, I think you mean Harry Potter," Val chuckled fondly, correcting her bandmate whose dopey tendencies made her all the more lovable.
Melody's brow crinkled and she innocently scrunched her nose in confusion. "Are they not the same person?"
"Let's forget about Archie and focus on us," Josie demanded softly, sending her bandmates a grin. "We're about to perform one of our best songs yet—"
Whack!
"How dare you!" An angry voice suddenly shouted out causing all of their heads to dart across the room to its centre where Alice Cooper and Penelope Blossom were arguing vehemently by the snack table. Mrs Blossom's face suddenly crumbled as she spoke, an angry sob racking through her body and she went limp in the arms of her husband, who was holding her back and attempting to drag her away.
"Hey, hey, hey. Leave it. Leave it." He hushed, comforting his wife. They had caught the attention of virtually everyone. No doubt, this would be what everyone would be gossiping shamelessly about tomorrow.
It was definitely time to start their performance. Quickly, discarding of her empty cup in a nearby bin, Josie and the Pussycats sprang into action, filing up the stage-side steps one by one. Josie scolded herself for not doing anything sooner. She, Val and Mel hastily strutted across the stage, each of them taking to their positions, Josie at the front and centre. Mediocrity is not an option, the words of her father echoed in her mind, Josephine you either have to be great or go home. For a split second, the stage lights felt too hot—her skin was on fire—and a slick coat of sweat covered the once clammy palms of her hands. For a split second, as Josie McCoy stared out dozens of faces at Riverdale town hall, she felt exposed and vulnerable to the world.
"Hey, uh—Riverdale!" She giggled awkwardly into the mic. Her chip voice filled the hall, shoving the tension and animosity to one side. The gaggle had broken up now, a dishevelled looking Mrs. Cooper and her husband walking to one side of the room and the Blossoms going to another. The Pussycat found her mother's face across the room, smiling and nodding at her encouragingly. Her nerves fizzled away as she gestured to the pair of proud and pointy pussycat ears that stood amid the vibrant curls of her hair and introduced her band, announcing smoothly, "We are Josie and the Pussycats. Are you ready to rock?"
In all honesty the young musician hadn't expected any kind of response, but was taken pleasantly by surprise when a masculine, enthusiastic voice burst out in excitement. "Yeah!"
Glancing to her right, she nodded to where Val was, holding her tambourine with nimble fingers and ready to sing back up. Before she knew it the beat had kicked in and the music had taken over her body. Josie bopped her head to the rhythm, taking in a breathe before and–
Paintings on her skin
Colours in her hair
Come around the corner
Make you stop and stare
But she don't pay no mind
'Cause she don't really care
What you think about her
Think about her
A flash of copper hair appeared in the corner of her eye. Josie continued to sing sweetly into her microphone, her voice growing stronger and richer as the song lyrics illustrated her perfectly-written story. People were enjoying it; Mr Andrews stood in the front row, swaying side to side ever so slightly and Pop stood at the back of the hall, nodding his head enthusiastically to their song. As much as Josie hated to admit it, she was glad that Archie had showed out.
Moving through the streets
She travels on her own
He had snuck up the stairs swiftly with long lithe and silent strides. He's on the balcony talking to Jughead Jones, she instructed herself, don't look, just focus on performing.
And if you try to tell her what to do she says
I don't care what you want me to be
'Cause it ain't for you
No it's all for me
However, she couldn't contain the urge to glance up at where he was, crouched behind the edge of the hall balcony, a pair of warm chocolate brown eyes peered back down at her, having the audacity to send her a cheeky wink before gazing at her with a raw and unfiltered amazement.
That fluttering sensation was back again and Josie felt herself flush. It took every fibre of the Pussycat's being to continue singing and not pause mid-song and march on up there. He was playing with her—he had to be. But she refused to give in to his charms. All guys like him had to do was breathe and the girls would come crawling by the hundreds and thousands.
Not her though. Josie McMcoy had dreams and aspirations that no boy would ever get in the way of. Yet somehow, she couldn't drag her eyes away from his and they remained that way until the performance was over.
…
Luckily, Josie was able to slip away from the event after The Pussycats finished their song. The applause and cheers had practically raised the roof and the appreciation provided the lead singer with a buzzing high that was unmatched. The sky outside was pitch black with the delicate clustering of sheer white twinkling stars and the full moon hung high and proud. The chilly night air hit her like a ton of bricks, causing a shiver to overtake her frame as she surveyed the empty street searching for a signature red head of hair. She couldn't see him anywhere. Although, across the street was a hooded figure, fiddling with the lock on a lone bicycle occupying the rusty bike rack adjacent to one of the many streetlights that were dotted along the sidewalk. The awkward and hurried clanging of metal was the only thing audible in the quiet town centre.
Squinting at the person in the hoodie, Josie realised it was exactly who she was looking for. Archie. She would recognise that build anywhere.
On impulse, she wanted to call his name and jog over to where he was, but instead she smoothed the palms of her hands on the front of her dress, taking in a deep breath before sauntering over to joining him underneath the circle of light. Archie's head jerked up upon hearing the heavy buckled foot fall of her biker boots, his hood falling back. He always greeted her in the same way, he would shoot her a slow and lazy smile that was meant to make her insides turn to mush, his deep brown orbs would trace the curves of her body, and then linger on her lips before finally meeting her own eyes. It made her stomach flutter every single time.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were grounded." She asked him sternly on arrival, crossing her arms to give off an impression of seriousness despite feeling flattered that he would risk being caught and punished by his dad for sneaking out to see her and the Pussycats perform. That took serious guts. Josie hadn't thought he was that serious about his music, she'd thought it was just another ploy to pick up girls, but it was clearly something more.
He grinned, rubbing a sheepish hand along the back of his neck, "Yeah I am. But I really wanted to see you guys perform tonight, I've never had anyone perform any of the stuff I've written before. Thank you, by the way, I know you had your doubts about letting me help out." Josie could see that Archie was genuinely happy and grateful. Red spots tinted his cheeks in embarrassment as the boy realised that he was rambling. He let out a chuckle, his breath visible against the cold night air. "You and the Pussycats did amazing."
Josie nodded, a reluctant smile forming on her lips, yet her tone of voice remained cool and calm. "We did." She agreed, refusing to sound meek and humble. Her father taught her to always be confident in her abilities, humility is for the weak, Josephine. "I'll admit it. You surprised me Justin Gingerlake, I thought song writing was just a joke to you."
"No, it's definitely something I'm serious about," he answered with a smirk upon hearing the infamous nickname she'd christened him with, a lock of that fine ginger hair falling onto his fine big-ass forehead.
"Good." She said back, noticing how his eyes turned a shade darker and dipped down to look at her mouth once more. He was always doing that, the Pussycat huffed internally, she'd deliberately ignored it before yet the more time they spent together the harder it became to miss.
Archie was gradually leaning down, inching closer. He was so close that she could feel the sheer heat of his chest radiating onto hers amid the chilly Canadian air. Josie's gaze narrowed, shooting him a sceptical glare and feeling unsure of what exactly she felt toward him.
What is he doing? Why is he so clo-
Placing his hands on either side of her face, Archie's head ducked down and closed the gap between them, his soft lips pressing themselves against hers. Josie stood stock still, frozen and reeling from the shock of it all. No, you don't have time for boys! Her conscience screeched. No no no stop right now! Her heart was racing, pumping at a million beats per second as her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips gradually began to move along with his, her arms still tightly crossed against her chest. She…she'd never really done this before. The breath of his mouth was deliciously hot and a shot of excite ran up and down her spine. The Pussycat heard a moan as their kiss grew more erratic–she didn't know whether it came from Archie or her—and her mouth opened wider letting him freely taste her Candy Girl coated, Cherry Crush glossed lips. Archie idly stroked the curve of her cheek with the pad of his thumb, his tongue running leisurely along her lower lip revelling in its fruity flavour before gently sucking and biting on her flesh, causing Josie's startlingly sharp intake of her breath.
No, stop! Suddenly, the lead Pussycat regained conscious awareness of where she was and what she was doing, her eyes flew wide open and she was pulling away from him. Both their chests were heavily heaving from soft arousal and astonishment at what had just happened. Josie took several hurried steps back until she was no longer near him and under the yellow gaze of streetlamp. Tenderly placing her fingers to her puffy and parted lips, Josie looked down, up, left and right–avoiding Archie's face.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments that lasted for an eternity.
The silence of the street swallowed both of them whole.
Josie's shoulder's tensed and she closed her eyes, taking controlled breaths in and out so that she could recompose herself. Reprimand in the form of her dad, made its way to the forefront of her head again. Fooling around with boys won't get you Grammy Awards and plaques, baby girl, only you can do that. Don't take your eyes off of the prize for a second. Her dull and monotonous voice sounded painfully loud and it practically echoed throughout the vicinity of the abandoned town centre. "No one can know about this. T-This didn't happen okay?" She couldn't believe she had broken her one rule, her father would be so ashamed if he ever found out.
Silence.
Turning around abruptly, the Pussycat drew herself up to her full height ready to re-cross the road. "Josie I –"
"I'll see you at school Archie!" Josie cut him off firmly, her frosty nature rivalling the cold weather as she headed back to the bustling town hall building with regulated strides of conviction. The low temperature of the night's atmosphere made her lips tingle with a slight pain after the way he had kissed her, her head was still disorientated and her ears were filled with the shameful rushing of her blood.
Read my glossed lips, Justin Gingerlake. That was what she had said to him the first time they had properly had a conversation. Gosh, how could you be so stupid! She scolded herself. Boys like Archie Andrews were trouble with a capital and emboldened T, and she would she damned if she ever let herself make the mistake of kissing him again.
The End