It was the kind of afternoon that felt oddly calm in Riverdale—too calm, if anyone really thought about it. Veronica Lodge sat in her apartment with spreadsheets open, color palettes organized, and three tabs about French florists on standby. She had her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, tapping her pen against the wedding planner like a maestro preparing to conduct chaos.

Across town, Archie Andrews was walking into Pop's Chock-lit Shoppe, eyes gleaming like a man with a dangerous secret.

The booth in the corner already held his groomsmen: Jughead Jones, Kevin Keller, Reggie Mantle (who was casually sipping an energy drink like it was a fine bourbon), John B. Routledge, and Spencer James, all mid-conversation when Archie plopped down next to them.

"Gentlemen," Archie said with the kind of smug energy that only comes from someone who just booked a pop diva without telling his fiancée, "I have something in mind. And it's bigger than milkshakes."

Jughead glanced over his menu. "It better be. You texted us in all caps like it was a hostage situation."

Archie leaned in, grinning. "Kim Petras is officially performing at our wedding."

Kevin choked on his root beer. "Wait, what? You actually booked Kim Petras?"

"Yeah," Archie said proudly. "Her rep said she'd bring glitter and chaos. There might be a confetti cannon. Possibly plural."

Reggie, who had just been casually scrolling through Instagram, slowly lowered his phone and leaned over the table. "I'm sorry, but did you just say Kim Petras? I didn't realize the wedding was going to make me this…horny."

"Dude," Spencer groaned, "Can we not?"

"Can we always?" Kevin added, fanning himself dramatically.

Unbeknownst to the groomsmen, Tabitha Tate—Pop's server, wedding DJ whisperer, and Veronica's close friend—was working behind the counter. And unfortunately for the boys, Tabitha had supersonic ears and a deep loyalty to the bride.

"Oh, God," Archie continued. "Veronica thinks it's just Josie and the Pussycats, but come on. We're getting married in Paris, not hosting a Riverdale yearbook party."

Jughead winced. "You're gonna get murdered in Paris. Like, softly. With love. But still."

"Exactly," Archie said, ignoring the concern. "So I'm ordering confetti cannons from Etsy tonight. And, get this, her rep mentioned something about a blood pact contract. No idea what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's showbiz lingo."

John B. raised an eyebrow. "I'm gonna stop you right there. A blood pact contract is not a thing you order. That sounds more like... witchcraft."

"Yeah," Spencer nodded. "You sure she didn't mean, like, a metaphor?"

"I was thinking of hitting up the local blood donor center, just to be prepared," Archie replied, dead serious. "Could be cool. Like, very vampire-chic."

Kevin blinked. "Are we planning a wedding or rebooting True Blood?"

Just then, Tabitha strolled over, order pad in hand and eyebrow already raised to lethal height.

"Hey boys," she said sweetly. "You ready to order milkshakes… or are we just openly plotting wedding sabotage now?"

Archie turned red.

Kevin immediately panicked. "Oh! We were just talking about Josie and the Pussycats, actually. Huge fans. Just reminiscing."

Tabitha stared at him. "You mean, reminiscing about Kim Petras, confetti cannons, and a bag of blood?"

All five of them froze like kids caught by the principal.

Tabitha leaned on the table. "So. Who's gonna tell Veronica?"

Archie raised his hand like a defeated student. "It's already done. Kim is booked."

Tabitha crossed her arms. "And you didn't think the bride should be told?"

"She's already got Josie and the Pussycats!" Archie argued. "It's fine! We'll alternate sets. Josie does one hour, Kim drops 'Coconuts' on the second. It's balance."

Tabitha gave them one last glare. "You do realize she will end you, right? Veronica doesn't do surprise weddings. She curates."

"She'll be fine," Archie said. "It's Paris. It's Kim. It's—"

"She's gonna use your blood for real," Tabitha muttered, walking away.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Veronica was in her zone. She was on the phone with a venue representative from The Shangri-La Paris, her accent perfect and her tone elegantly assertive.

"Bonjour, je suis Veronica Lodge, et je planifie un mariage somptueux à Paris," she said into the phone, twirling her pen as she jotted notes.

On the other end, the venue owner replied in French, asking for the wedding colors.

"Pastels clairs," she replied. "Avec des accents dorés. Très doux, très romantique."

She scribbled down more details. "Pour la musique, Josie and the Pussycats en tête d'affiche, et un DJ nommé Broward. Et le service traiteur sera… barbecue."

There was a pause. The French venue rep repeated, "Barbecue?"

"Oui," Veronica said, smiling. "Texas style. Avec sauce Carolina Reaper."

After they finalized a few more details, she hung up the call, victorious. Then she opened her group chat with her bridesmaids: Betty Cooper, Olivia Baker, Emily Cooper, Tabitha Tate, and Mindy Chen.

Veronica: Ladies. Venue locked. Music locked. Food locked. But we're not done yet. More to come.
We ride at dawn.

Back at Pop's, the boys sat in silence for a moment after Tabitha walked off.

John B. looked at Archie. "So… still getting the confetti cannons?"

Archie nodded slowly. "Yeah. And maybe a dry-ice machine."

Reggie whispered, "What about the blood?"

Kevin finally smacked his menu shut. "Okay, no more blood talk unless it comes with a side of fries."

As they awkwardly sipped their milkshakes, Archie leaned back in the booth and whispered under his breath, "What could possibly go wrong?"

At that exact moment, Tabitha was already texting Veronica.

Tabitha: You need to call me. Now. It's about Archie. And Kim Petras.

It was official.

The countdown to wedding madness had begun.

And Paris… was not ready.