Present day.
On the I-95 from Providence, Rhode Island to New York
Betty:
It's almost 2:30 in the morning, but still sleep is eluding me.
Elude… such a weird word really. Covers all kinds of things, doesn't it? Maybe, I should try to put in a song. Great, another thing to consider instead of falling asleep.
Usually, I would follow the impulse, knowing that late nights on tour buses have given way to some of my best lyrics. But we're on our last leg of the tour, coming into New York in the early morning hours and I have to be ready to be on the breakfast show at some radio station in Midtown at 6 am. Hence, chasing Mr. Sandman for some desperate beauty sleep instead of just giving up. I twist and turn in my small bunk. The bedding is soft and grey, and it smells faintly of the lavender soap I use before bed. Finally, I take the earplugs out. They're not working anyway. Maybe the sounds of the road will help me relax.
Ethel won't say anything, but I see her worrying about me these days. She knows it has been harder than usual this time, keeping up the long hours and the constant buzzing of band members, sound crews, stylists and journalists around me every day. She knows I love it, even crave it sometimes, but she's also seen the end of my limits and how quickly I can reach them.
Sometimes I feel like she's the only person in the world who really knows me. She's been my manager since I started out and, in some ways, we've grown into this life together. I never would've gotten the recognition I have without her there to keep me going, to argue and defend on my behalf. But sometimes, it is like she knows me a little too well. Like she is the mirror I am trying to avoid.
I should really try to be extra nice to her tomorrow though, I know she hates being in New York. Ever since she broke up with Dilton six months ago, she's been weird about being there - as if Dilton got custody of the whole city in the separation and Ethel now has to sneak around to avoid him. 8 million people, but Ethel is still convinced that her ex-boyfriend will be right around every corner. I mean, I love her, but she can be such a drama queen sometimes.
Come to think of it, I have more reason than Ethel to dread coming back to New York. At least she and Dilton had some closure. Meanwhile, all I have are memories of three bewitching months in the East Village, summer nights listening to all my favorite blues records and dancing around a pair of blue eyes and a grey beanie in a pre-war apartment that seemed too good to be true. If I hadn't lived through it myself, I would think it was just a perfect song I'd made up in my head. And now here I am, riding this bus all the way to Manhattan, right into the home of the one man I'm trying to… elude.
.
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Author's note: I don't own anything Riverdale-related. Sorry for the short chapter, it's just how the story seems to unfold for me. Please read and review, I'm thankful for all comments.