Archive of Our Own

They found her. They always did. It was only a matter of time—one post on Instagram, a picture of her retreating figure. Her flowing red hair always gave her away; it was her signature look. It got her an in with the producer, made her famous.

She tucked a strand behind her ear and turned away from the closed curtains.

Fans were milling about four stories below, their eyes never far from her hotel room balcony. She’d made the mistake of peeking out earlier while she’d been pacing. She knew better, but in a moment of weakness, she’d opened the curtains. Immediately, screams had floated up. She’d given a brief smile before letting the curtains collapse again. She couldn’t blame her fans; her feelings of discomfort and unease were her own. They only knew her as the happy-go-lucky pop singer who went through boyfriends faster than Taylor Swift. If only they knew.

Cheryl sighed. She hadn’t been in Riverdale for long, but she could already tell she hated it. She only had to get through this insufferable night before she would be on tour again.

Archie would meet her soon. Their agents had valiantly tried to get Cheryl to stay with Archie at his family home in the heart of Riverdale. It was what any serious couple would do, and Cheryl had fought back just as hard to have her own space. She and Archie didn't even like each other all that much. It was hard enough keeping up appearances without the weight of parents and their expectations.

There was a knock on the door, two quick taps. Cheryl strode toward the door and pulled it open. Archie stood on the other side. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his expensive jeans. They were twenty-two and he still acted like a child.

"Hi," he said softly, a smile playing on his lips.

"You're late," Cheryl said as she shut the door.

Archie took a step back, eyes widening. It was always like this, the give and take. Cheryl wasn't sure why he stuck around. How much would he put up with before he left? Were her sharp words worth the price of a boost in his own music career?

"I know, I'm sorry. Traffic was crazy. Did you know there's a mob of girls down there waiting for a picture with you?" His eyes lit up this time, light dancing off of them, and Cheryl knew that he was picturing himself in the same position. It was probably his dream to have a mob of girls screaming his name.

"I do," she said. "Somehow they found out I was staying here."

Archie's brow crumpled. "Oh." A pause. "Well, do you still want to stay here?"

"Where else would I go? This is the only five-star hotel in Riverdale."

"With me," Archie said. He took a step forward and placed his hand on Cheryl's arm. Cheryl shifted back, starting to pull away, but the look in Archie's eyes made her hesitate. He took it as an invitation to continue. "Look, I know you and I haven't always seen eye to eye on this relationship."

Cheryl scoffed. "We're not in a relationship."

Archie scrunched his nose. "That's...that's not what I meant. But I don't have a better word for this thing between us."

"Deception." Cheryl said it so quietly she wasn't sure that Archie heard her. She hazarded a quick glance into his eyes, but for once he gave nothing away. Louder, she said, "A show for the world. Nothing more."

"That's not true. I may not feel anything for you romantically, but you and I are bound together for another year. We might as well make the most of it and get along."

Cheryl opened her mouth, then clamped it shut. She fought off the wave of hope Archie's words brought her. They meant nothing. They couldn't. Once the contract was up, that was it. She and Archie Andrews would part ways for good. When she spoke this time, it was through gritted teeth. "You and I can get along, but that doesn't mean I'm spending a second more than I have to in your family's middle-class home."

Archie's brow furrowed. He looked like he wanted to add more, to fight her more, but in the end, he merely said, "Okay. You don't have to. I'll talk to the receptionist and get you a new room that doesn’t face the street."

Cheryl rolled her eyes. A new room wasn't going to help. Nothing would. But she smiled anyway, a small one that barely turned the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you," she said.

Archie smiled back. He always did.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked. "I know I got here a little early."

Cheryl eyed his outfit. He was dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt, a sharp contrast to her small, black dress that fit snugly against her thighs and stomach. She'd wanted to wear red--had picked out the outfit, even--but with her fans already on high alert, she didn't want to make it easy on them to find her. This was supposed to be a low-key night, with only a few photos making their way to the internet.

Her agent had stressed that this faux romance was supposed to be plausible. That meant meeting Archie's parents, getting pictures taken by fans and not the paparazzi Cheryl normally used when she wanted to call attention to her whereabouts. They were supposed to be selling a shy, lovestruck Cheryl Blossom to the press. One who wanted to avoid the spotlight when she wasn’t on stage.

She picked up her purse and nodded. "Just dinner with your parents, right? At a local, hole-in-the-wall place?"

"Actually, about that." Archie ran a hand through his hair and gave her his best smile. "Do you mind if we make a quick stop? I promise we won't be followed by anyone. In fact, I don't think anyone will recognize you where we're going."

Cheryl wanted to yell. Wasn't that the point? To be recognized? To put the rumors of her and Heather to rest? But her heart fluttered at the thought of not being recognized for even a few minutes.

"How long?" she asked. She made sure to keep her voice brittle and angry.

"Not long," he assured her. "Half an hour at most? I just want to catch up with my childhood friend while I'm in town. I haven't seen him in months."

---

Archie brought them to a bar. Cheryl couldn't believe it, had almost told him to turn the car around the split second she'd noticed the fancy, three-story brick buildings giving way to dilapidated roofs and mossy vinyl. She'd opened her mouth to protest, but the way Archie was gripping the steering wheel and glancing over at her made her hesitate. It was as if he were daring her to say something, to insult the town he grew up in.

She bit her tongue. There was nothing nice she could say about this new place or the bar. The Whyte Wyrm. Even the name sounded poor. It didn't help that thirty motorcycles were parked out front. A few people in leather jackets were smoking near the entrance. They didn't seem alarmed by Archie and Cheryl, though; one look at Archie's antique car and they returned to their conversation.

"Ready?" Archie asked. At Cheryl's nod, he hopped out of the car. Before she could reach for her own car door, he opened it for her. "Thirty minutes, I promise."

The bar was slightly less dingy on the inside. The paint was fresh on the walls, and her heels didn’t stick to the floor. The lights were dim; the room was flooded in red from the fluorescent light behind the bar. It made the patrons hooded in shadows, and despite the upkeep of the building, something didn’t feel entirely right here.

Movement from behind the bar caught Cheryl's attention. A small woman was filling a glass with something from the tap. Cheryl wasn't sure if it was the lighting, but the woman's hair almost looked pink in the dim bar lighting. As if sensing someone was watching her, the woman looked up.

Cheryl's breath caught. Even from a distance, she could tell that the woman had beautiful features--soft brown eyes and even softer lips.

Archie grabbed her hand and led her away from the entrance. Cheryl wanted to protest--if nobody knew them here, then why hold hands? What would the beautiful woman at the bar think? But his hand was pleasantly warm in hers, a source of comfort in this unknown bar. They only made it halfway in, past the pool tables and a few tables, when a figure in a dark jacket approached them.

"Archie!" he said. And suddenly Archie was letting go of her hand and hugging the man.

"It's been too long!" Archie said. He drew the other man in tighter and gave him a few hard claps to the back.

Cheryl wrapped her arms around herself, uncomfortable. She hazarded a glance around the bar. It was relatively full, but outside of the commotion caused by Archie and his friend, nobody had even glanced their way. Cheryl wasn't sure how it was possible that in an entire bar nobody had heard of her, but it wasn't like she was pushing her music onto middle-aged motorcyclists.

"You must be Cheryl," the other man said, finally pulling away from Archie. His voice was carefully neutral, but when Cheryl looked him in the eye she only saw faint dislike.

"Yes," she said. "And you are?"

"Jughead." He said. "One of Archie's closest friends." Cheryl nodded, willing them to move on with the conversation. Jughead raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for the polite back and forth of how much Archie talked about both of them to each other. When Cheryl didn’t reply, Jughead said, "Archie's talked about me before." It came out as a statement, cool and confident, but his eyes still flickered to Archie for confirmation.

Cheryl shrugged. "Archie and I don't talk about our pasts very often."

"Really? Why not?" Jughead's expression darkened as he waited for a response.

Archie placed a hand on Jughead's forearm. "Come on, Jug, let me buy you a drink and we can catch up. We have to go meet my dad for dinner soon."

Jughead softened. "Okay, but I'm buying. It's my bar." They took a few steps away. Cheryl didn't follow. She didn't think she could stand one more minute in the presence of Archie’s friend.

Archie shot Cheryl a look over his shoulder. A flash of annoyance passed over Cheryl. How dare Archie be upset by this? She didn't want to follow him and Jughead. She wanted to be as far away as possible from the two of them. Why had Archie brought her here?

She turned away. "Go, catch up. I'll wait at the bar."

Archie's furrowed brow evened out. A mix of uncertainty and relief crept over his features. "Are you sure?"

Cheryl cast a look around the bar. It was the dingiest place she'd ever been in, but not a single person had so much as looked their way once they were farther into the establishment. Nobody recognized her; at least that much of Archie's promise was true.

"Yes," she said. "But you only have fifteen minutes."

Archie merely nodded. "Let me get you a drink." He fished his wallet out, intent to give her cash.

Cheryl turned away in disgust. Sometimes Archie and his ways were too much for her.

The bar top was packed; Cheryl crammed herself against the wall, leaving one empty barstool between herself and the next patron. She tapped her fingers against the wood, waiting for the waitress to recognize her. It didn't take long. Almost immediately, the same woman from earlier approached her.

"Hi," she said. Cheryl leaned forward. The woman's voice was husky, and Cheryl wanted to bask in every minute of it before she had to go to an insufferable dinner with Archie and his family.

"Hi," she parroted back when the woman said nothing else.

“What can I get you?” The woman leaned closer, elbows pressed to the bar top. She tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly as if she was trying to figure out a familiar face. Normally being recognized sent a flash of annoyance through her, but for once Cheryl felt a small thrill.

“Cherry coke and rum,” she said. It was her signature drink, the one she always told reporters. “With two cherries.”

The woman nodded. “Okay, coming right up.”

She pulled away, elbows coming to rest at her side. Cheryl watched her move to the opposite side of the bar, pulling rum off the shelf and rummaging below for a glass to put the drink in. Cheryl couldn’t take her eyes off of the woman. She wasn't normally like this, couldn't be. But if nobody knew who she was, then she didn't see the harm in finally being like herself for one minute out of the day.

The neon sign changed from red to a deep blue. Cheryl's eyes darted to the woman's hair. It was hard to tell, but it seemed like it was still pink. Interesting.

A minute later, the woman was back, drink in hand. A soft smile played on her lips as she passed the drink over to Cheryl.

"Let me know if you need anything else." A man farther down the bar signaled to her. She turned away.

"Wait," Cheryl said. "What's your name?"

The woman turned back, eyebrows raised. "That's a little forward of you, isn't it?" For once, she wasn't smiling. "I've heard it all before. Ask for my name, then tell me how beautiful I am."

Cheryl faltered. "I--I didn't realize, I'm--" She clenched her fist, angry at herself. This woman probably had men flirting with her all night. She wanted to promise the woman that she wasn't coming on to her, but that was a lie; she wanted to know this woman, wanted to find something to enjoy in this awful town. "I'm sorry," she said. And for once, she meant it.

The woman hesitated. Her eyes met Cheryl's and held her gaze for a long moment, as if judging the authenticity of her apology.

"I'm Toni," she said. "I accept your apology."

She turned away. Cheryl wanted to call her back, ask her something else, but bit her tongue. Instead, she pulled her drink closer to her and took a long sip. It burned down her throat, more rum than soda.

She glanced behind her, spotting Archie and Jughead almost immediately. They were halfway across the room, heads bowed together, engrossed in conversation. Cheryl sighed and downed the rest her drink.

She hadn't eaten since mid-morning; the drink was strong enough that she could feel it, a warmth coursing through her body and pleasantly numbing her mind. She couldn't have another one, but she wanted to. Desperately. She propped her head up on her palm, eyes darting back to the empty drink in front of her.

"Another?"

Cheryl glanced up. Toni leaned across the bar, elbows against the wood.

"I can't," Cheryl said.

Toni raised an eyebrow. "Can't?" Her eyes darted to Archie. Her lips dipped into a frown.

Cheryl followed her gaze. "It's not because of him," she said quickly. "We have plans after this." She couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face at the thought that Toni, a woman she'd known for only a few minutes, was willing to go to bat for her. "And I can't be seen in public looking like..." She trailed off, realizing her mistake too late. Give her a beautiful woman with big, understanding eyes and Cheryl would tell her anything.

"Can't be seen tipsy in public?" Toni asked. Her brow laced in confusion. "What, are you some sort of public figure?"

Cheryl laughed. "Really?"

"Really what?" Toni asked. She leaned closer. When Cheryl didn't reply, her eyes widened. "Wait, are you?"

Cheryl bit back a snarky retort. Archie had said nobody here would recognize her; it was hard to believe, considering her megastar status, but maybe he'd been right after all. "Are you really asking me that?" she finally asked. She tried to play it off as flirty, but her eyes must have given her away.

"What's your name?" Toni asked.

Cheryl picked up her straw, swirled it around the remaining chunks of ice at the bottom of her glass. After a moment, she looked up through hooded eyes to see Toni eyeing her intently.

"What, I tell you mine, but I don't get yours in return? That hardly seems fair."

Cheryl brought the straw to her lips. The drink was mostly water now, but it bought her time. "You didn't ask me," she said.

"I'm asking now," Toni said. "Come on, maybe I've heard of you."

Cheryl smiled. "You're making a lot of assumptions on me not wanting to be tipsy in public."

Toni grinned back at her. "Nobody argues this much over their name unless they have something to hide."

"Cheryl."

Toni's eyes got comically large. Cheryl's heart pounded. After a long pause, Toni said, "Never heard of you." She winked. "Sorry, but you must not be that famous."

Cheryl's mouth fell open. "I--"

"I'm kidding," Toni said, cutting her off. "Cheryl Blossom? I think I've heard a few songs. They're catchy; not really my thing, though."

Cheryl frowned. "Normally people don't tell me to my face that they don't like my music."

"Of course not. You're beautiful and famous and people will do anything to make you smile." Toni leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. “But don’t you deserve the truth?"

Cheryl faltered, anger washing out of her system and too caught up on the first half of Toni's words. Of course Cheryl knew that she was beautiful, but it was always nice to hear from an equally beautiful woman.

"Yes," Cheryl murmured. "I suppose I do." She pushed the empty drink forward. Toni took it, stepping away. When she came back, another drink was in her hands. Cheryl opened her mouth to protest, but Toni beat her to it.

"It's just cherry cola, no rum this time. On the house."

"Thanks," Cheryl said as she lifted the drink to her mouth. When she set it back down, Toni was looking at her expectantly. Cheryl frowned. "What? Don't you have a shift to get back to?"

Toni glanced down the bar. Another bartender was in the opposite corner, lining up shots.

"No," Toni said. "I will in a few minutes. It's not every day a celebrity comes into the Whyte Wyrm." She grinned. "Maybe I'm building up the courage to ask for your autograph."

Cheryl scoffed. "Why, so you can show it to people and then say, 'I'm just not that into her?'"

"I didn't say I wasn't into you. I just don't like your music."

"Oh, so now you don't like it at all? When you insulted me before you at least called my songs catchy."

"They are catchy," Toni said. "I just don't like the lyrics."

Cheryl bit down on her straw so hard it cracked beneath her teeth. She set the drink down. She knew she shouldn't be prying--one woman's opinion didn't matter when she had hundreds of thousands of fans--but she couldn't seem to let it go. "What's so wrong about the lyrics?"

Her voice must have been slightly off because Toni winced and looked away, as if finally realizing that she'd said too much. "It's nothing," Toni said. "Just a personal preference."

Cheryl waved her hand for Toni to continue. When she didn't, Cheryl said, "you might as well just tell me. You can't tell me I deserve the truth and then back down on your promise."

Toni scratched the back of her head, eyes not meeting Cheryl's. "You're right. Look, the lyrics just don't speak to me. I'm not a teenage girl living in a fairytale world with a happily ever after."

"I'm not a teenage girl either," Cheryl said. "But real life is depressing enough. Why would you want to imagine a world where the guy doesn't get the girl in the end?"

"Maybe I don't want a guy to sweep me off my feet," Toni said. After a moment, she asked, "Do you?"

Cheryl's breath caught in her throat. She didn't trust herself to respond. Toni studied her for a long moment. Cheryl braced herself, hoping that years of burying the truth would hide her from Toni's gaze.

Finally, Toni said, "Does Archie really make you happy? Because, to me, it looks like you’re at a bar flirting with me instead of over there talking with him."

Before Cheryl could respond, Toni said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that. We just met and I don't know what I was thinking." She gave Cheryl a weak smile, one Cheryl didn't respond to.

In the time it took Toni to bumble her way through an apology, Cheryl had built her defenses up. She'd been so caught up in Toni; the drink must have been stronger than she was used to for her to lose herself like that. She never let her guard down like that. And there was a good reason--five minutes into a conversation with Toni, and she was about ready to tell her everything. How her career was built around lies--around fake boyfriends and love songs she didn't feel because the pronouns were wrong. Interviews where she swore her current fling was the one, all smiles and flutters of her long eyelashes and a little too much makeup so it looked like she was blushing for the camera.

Cheryl steeled herself, avoiding Toni's eyes. She didn't want to know what she would see, didn't want to test herself against Toni's sad, apologetic gaze.

"You're right. You have no business asking me that."

Toni gestured behind her. "I'm going to get back to work. Again, I'm really sorry. I was just caught up in the moment and I thought--" Toni shook her head, cutting herself off. "I'll see you around?"

"Unlikely," Cheryl said.

Toni nodded. This time, Cheryl couldn't help herself; she met Toni's eyes, then quickly looked away. When she looked up again, Toni was on the opposite side of the bar, a smile on her face as she talked with one of the other patrons.

Cheryl rolled her eyes.

The bar was even louder. During their conversation, more bikers must have come in because the room was packed. Cheryl peered around a group playing pool, trying to spot Archie and Jughead. She was ready to go; she didn't want to spend another second in this horrible place.

So, of course, Archie was nowhere to be found. His spot was now occupied by a group of four young men, all busy doing shots. Cheryl let out a huff. She wasn't about to go wandering around the bar looking for a guy she could barely stand. Even if nobody recognized her as Cheryl Blossom, famous singer, she was still an incredibly attractive woman alone in a dive bar. Now that her back was to the bar top, she could see all the curious faces turned toward her. One man with a day-old beard and muddy boots raised his fingers to his lips and blew out a catcall. Cheryl scrunched up her face in distaste.

She pushed herself off the stool. She had to get outside, away from everything.

After being inside the stifling bar, the fall breeze felt like a godsend. She shut the door behind her and fell against the side of the building, eyes closed as she breathed in air that wasn't tinged with alcohol and sweat.

She wasn't alone for long; just as soon as she found peace and quiet, she lost it again when the door slammed shut and the same man who had catcalled her stepped into her line of sight.

"Hey," he said. There was a small smile on his face that sent a knot of fear directly into Cheryl's stomach.

"Hi," she said. Her voice was tight and high. She looked away, hoping against hope that he'd come out here to smoke and not for any nefarious purpose. But he didn't bring out a cigarette; instead, he leaned into her space. His breath reeked of alcohol. She winced and took a step away.

"Don't be afraid," he said. He closed the distance again. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."

"I'm not afraid," Cheryl snapped. "I just don't want to talk to you."

He pressed a hand to her arm. "Why not? I don't see anyone else keeping you company."

She took another step back and firmly removed his hand. "I'm not interested."

It happened so quickly Cheryl barely had time to react; in less than the time that it took her to take in a breath, he had her pinned to the side of the building. She let out a cry of surprise. Her nails dug into the sleeves of his leather jacket. Where was Archie? This never would have happened if he'd been there. Better yet, if she'd never broken her own rule--never go anywhere without at least one bodyguard. But her agents had sold her on going without one when she was with Archie; it was better that way, they'd said. Archie was a strong, capable man, and having a bodyguard would just lessen the impact of the two of them being seen around the world together.

"Liar. I saw you looking at me," he said. His words puffed across her cheek, bringing her back into the present. "You just don't want to admit it."

"Get off me!"

And suddenly he was gone. Cheryl blinked her eyes open, surprised that her command had worked. But it hadn't been her words. Another person had joined them.

The man was crouched down, both hands covering his nose. He let out a pained groan.

"You heard her," Toni said. "She's not interested." She stood between the two of them, a small but effective buffer. She shook her wrist. "Go back inside, Tallboy, unless you want to deal with me."

He nodded once at Toni and then glared at Cheryl. When he was gone, Toni turned back to Cheryl. Her hands came out, almost making contact with Cheryl before she let them fall to her sides again, as if unsure that Cheryl would accept her touch.

"Are you okay?" She asked instead. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," Cheryl said. Her entire body shook, mind reeling with what could have happened.

"I'm so sorry," Toni said. "I came out as soon as I saw him trailing after you. I knew he was up to no good."

Cheryl wrapped her arms around herself. She barely took in Toni's words.

"Hey." This time, Toni placed a hand gently on Cheryl's forearm. Her knuckles were red and swollen. "He didn't do anything, right?"

After a long moment, Cheryl shook her head. "No, he didn't get a chance to. Thanks to you."

Toni shook her head. "Don't thank me. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't made you feel so uncomfortable back there. I didn't mean to upset you; I'm sorry that I pried. I won't do it again."

"Okay," Cheryl said.

Toni removed her hand. Cheryl found herself missing the warmth despite all that had happened that evening. She chastised herself for craving something as simple as the woman's touch. She barely knew her, but she felt drawn to Toni.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Toni asked.

"No," Cheryl said immediately. She didn't want to see that man ever again, even if he wouldn't dare touch her in front of Toni.

Toni nodded, eyes soft like she understood Cheryl's train of thought. "Do you want me to get Archie for you?"

"No." Cheryl ran a shaky hand through her hair. "Do you mind if we just stay here for a few minutes?"

Toni gave her a small smile. "Of course not." After a moment's hesitation, she leaned against the wall next to Cheryl. Their bodies were close enough that Cheryl could feel Toni's warmth. Every time Toni drew in a breath, their arms brushed.

For several minutes, the muffled shouts and music from within the bar were the only sounds permeating the night air. Cheryl let her head fall back against the vinyl siding. She was too tired to care what it did to the back of her hair. Fake romance be damned; when she found Archie again, she would cancel the rest of their plans. This entire trip had been a waste. Well, almost all of it. She turned her head toward Toni.

"You hurt your hand," she said. Her voice sounded loud and out of place in the darkness. Her words were barely above a whisper when she said, "I should be asking you if you're okay."

Toni let out a low laugh. "It's not broken."

Cheryl pursed her lips. "That doesn't seem like a very good way of judging whether or not you're okay."

Toni shrugged. The movement pushed her shoulder into Cheryl's. "It seems like an injured hand is a small price to pay for keeping Tallboy away from you." She brought her hand up, twisting it so the faint light from the bar caught her swollen knuckles. "I'll ice it when I get home."

Cheryl fought back the urge to argue, to insist that Toni go to the hospital and get it checked out. For as nonchalant as Toni was acting about her injured hand, Cheryl had the sinking suspicion that this wasn't the first time Toni had punched somebody.

Toni was so far removed from her life of luxury, from the constant paparazzi and screaming fans and men who would do anything to catch her eye. Despite everything that had happened that evening, Cheryl found herself breathing more easily than she had in months. She felt safe with Toni.

Toni didn't know what the gossip magazines said about her; hell, she barely knew Cheryl's songs. And for once, Cheryl was okay with that. At any other point in her life, Cheryl wouldn't have looked twice at Toni. Tonight, though, she was glad that they'd talked. She connected more easily with Toni in a few short minutes than she had in months of being with Archie.

"I wish I knew how to thank you," Cheryl said. "You didn't have to come after me."

"You don't have to thank me for anything. It's what anybody would have done." With her uninjured hand, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Is this your first time in Riverdale?"

Cheryl turned to her, caught off guard by such a simple question. "Yes. Why?"

"Oh." Toni shrugged. "It's just..." She waved her hand around, gesturing to the bar behind her. "Not all of Riverdale is like this. I hope one bad experience doesn't stop you from coming back."

Cheryl laughed. "Bartender by night, Riverdale tour guide by day? I can't say I've had anyone try to sell me on a town like this before."

Toni's face fell. A wave of uncertainty passed through Cheryl. What was Toni trying to say? Was she asking to see Cheryl again?

"I don't think I'll be back here soon," Cheryl said slowly as she watched Toni's reaction. "My tour starts up again next week. I'll be in Washington D.C. and then all over the rest of the states. I'm not sure when I'll be back in New York again."

Toni gave her a weak smile. "I've never been there before. It must be exciting traveling all the time."

"It's exhausting," Cheryl admitted. "But it's worth it in the end. I love connecting with my fans over music."

Toni hummed her agreement.

"I have an idea," Cheryl said. Toni tilted her head, eyes finding Cheryl's in the dark. "You don't like my music--"

"Again, really sorry about that," Toni said. This time, she sounded genuinely sheepish about it.

Cheryl gave a half shrug. "You don't like it now, but I'm sure I could convince you that my lyrics aren't as shallow as you think they are." Cheryl paused, eyes darting around Toni's face, hoping to see what Toni was thinking, but Toni's face was carefully neutral.

"What are you saying?"

"Come to D.C."

Toni let out a sharp laugh. "I would love to, but I can't."

"Why not?"

Toni gave her a sad half smile. "I can barely afford to pay my rent. I can't afford a trip like that."

"Consider it an all-expenses-paid trip. Let it be my way of thanking you."

"I can't let you do that," Toni said. "As much as I would love to go."

Cheryl frowned. "I don't understand. If it's money holding you back, then why can't you let me pay for you?"

A slow smile spread across Toni's face. "If you want to see me that bad, why don't you take a break from your world traveling ways and pay me a visit?" She winked. "As the official tour guide of Riverdale, I'm sure I can show you some of our more beautiful locations. Something that will make you want to keep coming back."

Cheryl blushed. She'd already found something to keep her coming back. The admission was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit the words back. She was still deeply closeted, and Toni still thought she was dating Archie. But there was hope; there always was, even if Cheryl didn't normally feel it.

"Let's make a deal," she said instead. "I'll come back to visit this god-awful town if you let me pay for your trip." Toni opened her mouth to protest, but Cheryl quickly said, "Just two days. That's all. And if you’re really that upset about it, you can fly economy instead of first class."

Toni was quiet for a long time; Cheryl thought for sure she would say no. But eventually Toni nodded, slow and serious, and a grin broke out over Cheryl's face. It took all of her energy not to lean forward and wrap her arms around Toni.

"Wonderful," Cheryl said, and found that she meant it. "I can't wait to see you again."

Toni smiled back, eyes reflecting the hope that Cheryl felt deep in her chest.