The next afternoon in Riverdale was calm. That rare type of calm that only ever shows up in the hours before a complete mess. Veronica Lodge had left her and Archie's apartment in a blur of productivity, ready to lock in the wedding DJ for their big Parisian celebration. She was on a mission—securing the sound of the night, locking in the rhythm of romance. What she didn't know, however, was that Archie had just woken up with an idea that was, in every possible way, bound to explode.

And he thought it was brilliant.

He paced the living room in basketball shorts, one sock on, one sock off, chewing on a pencil like it was licorice. "If she gets Josie and the Pussycats," he muttered to himself, "I at least get one thing." He whipped out his phone, fingers flying.

He Googled. Searched. Found it. KIM PETRAS - REPRESENTATION CONTACT.
Because if Veronica Lodge was bringing a hometown Riverdale vibe to Paris, Archie was going to bring Paris nightlife to Paris.

After a couple of wrong numbers, accidental inquiries about a gluten-free catering company, and one uncomfortably long conversation with someone who thought he was trying to book RuPaul, Archie finally got the real Kim Petras contact. He dialed, cleared his throat, and tried to sound businesslike when a high-pitched, clearly-exhausted voice answered the phone.

"Petras Management, this is Lindsay."

"Hi, uh, Lindsay! My name's Archie Andrews, I'm getting married in Paris in a few weeks, and I wanted to talk about having Kim perform at our wedding."

There was a pause. A long pause.

Then Lindsay sighed. Loudly. "You want Kim. At your wedding."

Archie winced. "Is… that a no?"

"No, no," Lindsay replied, sounding like she was replying from under a mountain of dry cleaning and drama. "But do you know what it takes to get her to show up? Kim is… how do I say this delicately… an experience."

"I mean, it's Paris," Archie offered, proudly.

Another pause. "Alright. Hold, please. I'll go scream into a closet and then check her schedule."

Hold music clicked on.

And it was Kim's own song: "XXX".

And that's when Archie made the mistake of letting his mind drift. That song. That beat. That one lyric. The memory it triggered: the one time at senior prom. The hallway. The blue light. Betty Cooper.

"Nope nope nope," he said out loud, smacking himself on the cheek. "Focus. This is your wedding, not memory lane."

Lindsay came back with a dramatic exhale. "Alright. She's in. Kim is available. She'll do the wedding. Paris. Headline. Confetti cannon extra."

Archie's jaw dropped. "Wait, really? Like, she'll actually do it?!"

"She said, and I quote, 'Paris is cute. I'll bring glitter and chaos.'"
"Perfect," Archie said breathlessly. "And, um, this is kind of important… my fiancée? She can't know."

"Oh God," Lindsay muttered. "You're sneaking a diva into your wedding?"

"I'm not sneaking, I'm… supplementing," Archie corrected. "She wants Josie and the Pussycats."

"That sounds fake."

"It's real. Very… Riverdale."

Lindsay sighed. "Fine. You didn't get this call from me. I'll send over details and a blood pact contract soon."

"Bless you," Archie whispered, before hanging up.

He opened his group chat titled: "Groomzilla and the Bros"
Archie: Gentlemen, big news. Kim Petras is performing at our wedding. Paris is about to go off. Veronica thinks it's just Josie and the Pussycats. This is Paris, not Riverdale snooze. DO NOT TELL HER.

Jughead: Veronica will murder you.

Kevin: I already ordered my outfit. Do we match Kim's aesthetic or just bow in her direction?

Reggie: KIM PETRAS?! I am going to cry into my protein shake.

John B: This is either genius or the stupidest decision you've ever made. Which makes it… perfect.

Spencer: I don't even know who she is but I'll vibe.

Meanwhile, across town, Veronica was at Platinum Spin DJs—a black-owned DJ company Tabitha Tate had recommended.

The energy in the office was sharp, rhythmic, filled with synth-heavy demos playing from the back room and a record wall that gave everything the perfect edge.

Veronica adjusted her sunglasses. "Hi, I'm Veronica Lodge. I believe we had a 1:30?"

A tall, confident woman came out to greet her. "I'm Crystal. You must be the bride. Tabitha told me you'd be coming."

Veronica smiled warmly. "She's been raving about your work."

"Flattering and factual," Crystal said with a grin. "Let's talk vibe."

For the next thirty minutes, Veronica laid out the vision: black tie but bold, romantic but modern, a dance floor that felt like heaven with heels on. She also dropped the name Josie and the Pussycats casually—emphasizing that they'd be doing live vocals for the reception.

"I want energy," she told Crystal. "But I also want people to cry and sweat in their dresses. Is that too much?"

Crystal grinned. "We do tears and twerking. Consider it handled."

Then Crystal's phone buzzed. She glanced at it.

"Just got word from Tabitha. You're officially booked. DJ's locked for Paris."

Veronica exhaled dramatically. "One less thing to stress about."

They shook hands, exchanged contact info, and Crystal promised playlists would be curated by the end of the week. As Veronica left the building, she felt powerful, put together, and ahead of schedule.

But of course, she had no idea her fiancé had just booked one of the most iconic pop stars alive to crash her Riverdale-perfect reception with backup dancers and smoke machines.

And she definitely didn't know Kim Petras would be entering the venue on a rhinestone scooter shaped like a wedding cake.

But for now, Veronica was content. The DJ was locked in. Josie was prepped. The seating was done. And the bride was at peace.

Too bad that peace had an expiration date.

Because somewhere across town, Kevin was Googling "Is it illegal to surprise your wife with a pop icon?" just in case.

And Archie?
Archie was trying to find confetti cannons on Etsy.

It was going to be a beautiful wedding.

Or an absolute mess.

Possibly both.