The next morning in Riverdale started deceptively normal—birds chirped, the sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, and Veronica Lodge sat with her Le Creuset registry in one hand and silent resentment in the other.

Archie, meanwhile, was on his way out of the apartment, sidestepping eye contact like it was a landmine.

Veronica, from the kitchen, mumbled under her breath, "You wanted narcissism? Buckle up, Andrews."

Archie heard it. He just chose violence—specifically, the kind that involved him not replying. Instead, he slammed the door behind him and left for a sacred mission: Operation Blood Pact.

He rolled up to the front entrance of Riverdale High, where his loyal groomsmen—Jughead, Kevin, Reggie, John B., and Spencer—were already waiting.

"Gentlemen," Archie greeted like a man about to donate blood for clout, "today we make history."

"You actually got the Etsy confirmation for the confetti cannon?" Reggie asked, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Custom LED color bursts, biodegradable confetti, remote-triggered—oh, and it can launch glitter, petals, or rose-scented fog," Archie said proudly.

Spencer fist-bumped him. "This wedding's about to be international."

Kevin rolled his eyes but grinned. "It's also about to be weird."

They stepped into the blood donor drive set up in the gymnasium, which was filled with a mix of high schoolers trying to be brave, elderly locals hoping for free juice, and middle-aged moms who looked like they just needed a reason to sit down for 20 minutes.

As the guys waited in line, Archie looked around, scanning the room, only to spot a familiar redhead across the gym.

"Is that—?"

"Yep," Kevin confirmed. "Cheryl Blossom."

Sure enough, Cheryl sat elegantly in a reclining chair like she was donating champagne instead of blood.

"Cheryl!" Kevin called from the line.

She tilted her head, rolling her eyes but intrigued. "I'm busy getting my blood drawn. Unlike you, who looks like he's here for a school field trip."

Archie waved. "We're here too. Groom squad. Wedding prep."

Cheryl blinked. "You're getting your blood drawn for your wedding? You finally cracked, Andrews."

Spencer stepped forward. "It's for the bag of blood."

"Bag of—what?" Cheryl narrowed her eyes.

Archie sheepishly nodded. "Yeah. It's a… requirement. Kim Petras is performing, and her team sent this rider. There's something about a 'blood pact.'"

Cheryl, intrigued but disturbed, crossed her arms. "A literal pact of blood? And you're just... going along with it?"

"I've already got the confetti cannon," Archie replied, dead serious.

Cheryl blinked again. "So is this blood being collected in like a grocery bag or...?"

"No," Archie said, pulling up the email on his phone. "They use these hospital-grade blood packets. Like a Capri Sun but make it goth."

"I'm speechless," Cheryl said flatly. "Which is rare. I will see you fools at the wedding." She reclined back, tossing her hair over the shoulder as a nurse wheeled over the next IV stand.

Back in line, several people in front of them chickened out due to the needles, giving the groomsmen a faster path to glory (and blood loss).

Meanwhile, back at Veronica and Archie's apartment, Veronica sat on the plush ivory couch with a steaming mug of matcha and murder in her eyes.

She'd added the Mist Grey Dutch Oven to the wedding registry.
She'd coordinated the stemless wine glass set.
She had already picked the charcuterie board in walnut finish.

But that wasn't enough.

Oh, no.

Archie wanted narcissism?

She'd give him Winter Blanco.

She opened Instagram and typed: wiintrr.

There she was—Winter Blanco in all her chaotic glory. A feed full of lip gloss, LED lighting, acrylics, fights, and fits. The woman who made "I don't do humble" sound like a TED Talk.

Veronica scrolled to a video of Winter dragging Christina Rome from Baddies: ATL at a club and liked it with purpose.

Then she slid into her DMs like a villain in heels.

VeronicaLuxeLodge: Hi Winter, I'm Veronica Lodge. I'm getting married in Paris and want an unforgettable guest. Are you down to come through and turn the party up?
It's going to be luxe. Think Eiffel Tower, pastels, BBQ catering, and one soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend if he keeps acting up. LMK

She hit send, smirking.

Then she returned to her wedding website dashboard and began updating:

"Veronica & Archie's Wedding – A Parisian Affair"
Updates:
– Live vocals: Josie and the Pussycats
– DJ: Broward the Beat King
– BBQ by RiverGrill International
– Dress Code: Pastel Royalty
– Special Guest: TBA

Her phone buzzed.

DM from Winter Blanco:

Ohhh this sounds like a vibe. I'm DOWN. Paris gonna know who the real baddie is send me the details, sis.

Veronica's eyes glinted.

Archie had no idea what was coming.

Because while he was donating blood to impress a pop star, she had just RSVP'd a certified social disruptor to his wedding.

And this time?

Veronica Lodge was playing for keeps.