Chapter Text
Brooke Holliday loved the Twilight Drive-In.
Her love of the place had blossomed at the ripe age of five when she had first stepped onto the property. Sure, she enjoyed seeing new movies down at the Bijou, but there was something almost ... too nostalgic about the drive-in to pass up, even in a town as seemingly anachronistic as Riverdale. The Twilight specialized in older films, movies that had at least fifteen to twenty years on them. Tonight was a testament to that fact, the sign at the front gate lot displaying the title Rebel Without a Cause.
But, unfortunately, right above the film's title were the words The Last Drive-In and Closing Night. Brooke had known about this change for days, almost a week even, but the decision still left a glare to her eyes and a bitter taste in her mouth. The closing of the drive-in was something that everyone had seen coming — it just wasn't bringing in as much money as it used to. And half the time the place actually had customers, they lost out on fares in the form of teenagers smuggling in their friends under blankets or in the trunks of cars to avoid paying for multiple tickets. And then, of course, there had been the final nail in the coffin.
When the announcement of the drive-in's closing had been made official, it had come straight from Mayor McCoy's office. And it wasn't hard to see why the pristine mayor deemed the closing as a necessity on her to-do list. The Twilight Drive-In was located smack dab in the middle of the Southside, the rundown part of town that wasn't exactly sunshine and roses. Not that Northside was perfect, but Southside didn't exactly have the best reputation. Once you crossed the tracks, white picket fences turned into rundown buildings and trailer parks, gang members strewn around as far as the eye could see.
The largest gang on the Southside by far were the Southside Serpents, a group of petty thieves and bikers that had taken to loitering on the drive-in's property over the course of a summer. If the Twilight had seen dwindling patronage because of ticket prices, the presence of the Serpents had warded off almost all that was left. Between that and an anonymous buyer making the Mayor an offer she simply couldn't pass up? It had been all too easy to close down the drive-in permanently. And while there were people like Brooke who weren't pleased, there were residents of Riverdale who had been just downright thrilled over the news.
Shannon Holliday, Brooke's mother, was one of those people. It wasn't hard to see why. Shannon had despised the Serpents, and the Southside in general, with a burning passion for years. She had always detested Brooke crossing the tracks to see movies, always reiterating what most other Northsider's say. The only people who go to the drive-in are people who want to buy crack or you're likely to end up getting attacked on the Southside.
Yeah, okay, sure. In all her years visiting the Twilight, the worst experience that Brooke had ever had with a Serpent or Southsider in general was getting glared at. She was a big girl, she could handle some glaring.
Case in point, she was wearing one herself as she traipsed across the lot, clutching her ticket. The kid working the booth had given her a strange look considering she had shown up sans car, but Brooke didn't pay him much attention. She hadn't come here with the intention of watching one of James Dean's only films through a windshield or from the bed of a truck anyways.
Instead, she headed towards the projection booth, the very place she knew will hold the person she's looking for.
Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, more commonly known as Jughead, was quite possibly Brooke's best friend in the entire world. When they were just little kids, the two had been part of a tightly knit group that included the two kids who live across the street from Brooke — Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper. For years, they'd been the closest group of friends one might have ever seen, a reinvented Four Musketeers — a name that Jughead had tried vetoing on several occasions, the literary nerd he was trying to argue that there were only three musketeers.
Middle school and freshman year of high school had sought the disbandment of the group, although the four still manage to remain in somewhat close contact even now.
Jughead and Archie would probably always be friends, their messy summer road trip situation aside. Archie and Betty had their whole windows across from each other trope still going strong. And it was hard for Brooke not to be close friends with Betty and Archie, seeing as they were bound to bump into each constantly, a byproduct of all living on Elm Street.
But regardless of all that, Jughead still managed to hold the title of Brooke's best friend. Perhaps it was because they were only thirteen days apart birthday wise, the month of October inexplicably tying them together. Or perhaps, it was because, somehow, they got each other without ever really having to say much at all.
Brooke hadn't bothered to text Jughead that she was on her way — or even asked if she could watch the last film with him — but she figured it was fine. Ever since he had gotten a job here two summers ago, they had always watched movies together in the booth. Neither of them had a car, so it was just easier to watch in there. So, with little warning that she was going to be bothering him, she showed up on the doorstep of the projection booth and rapped on the door.
"Jug? It's Brooke!"
It was silent on the other side of the door for a moment before some shuffling was heard. The lock unlatched and the door slowly cracked open, the familiar face of Brooke's best friend peeking out. Jughead barely stuck his head out, Brooke just barely able to make out the crown detailing on the beanie he was adamant on wearing every damn day of his life.
Jughead gave her a smile, one Brooke could instantly tell was forced. "Hey, Brooke, right now isn't — "
Brooke cut him off, rambling on second he started talking. "I didn't grab snacks yet because I wanted to see what you wanted first. And no, before you ask, everything on the menu is not an option nor has it ever been. I probably should have texted you first, but I figured we haven't watched a movie in here since this summer and what better way to spend the last night here than shoving junk food down our throats watching this movie. Also, by the way, don't act like I totally didn't notice you picking this movie the literal second Betty suggested it. You're not slick with the heart eyes and the right Betts thing you had going on, mister."
He rolled his eyes, opening the door a little wider. Brooke could see his full frame now, but the door was still closed enough that she couldn't really peer into the booth. Dryly, Jughead replied, "Ha ha, very funny, Holliday."
"I'm just saying, if you're crushing on our precious Betty Cooper, you're going to have to slay the dragon that is her feelings for Archie Andrews. And not to intimidate you or anything, but word on the street is that he's quite the stud since he got abs," Brooke said sarcastically.
"Word on the street?" Jughead deadpanned.
"I can only go off what I hear, because honestly I don't see it — ginger's not exactly my type," she chuckled. She glanced behind her to where the concession stand sat. Jutting her thumb towards the sad row of, like, three people that one might call a line, she asked, "So what do you want? I should probably go get snacks for tonight before they run out of stuff and — "
"Actually, Brooke," Jughead started, giving her a sheepish and somewhat guilty look, "I, uh, was kind of hoping that I could just spend tonight alone."
Her eyes narrowed in confusion, brow knitting together. "Seriously? But it's the Twilight's last night, you seriously want to spend it alone? Like, I get that emo loner kid thing is, like, your brand, but that's just sad."
Jughead sighed, leaning up against the door jamb, the door to the booth opening a little wider. "I just want to be alone with my thoughts, have a quiet final night. And besides, it's sort of cramped in here with the projection equipment and everything else."
Cramped? He was telling her it was cramped in there? Of course it was fucking cramped in there, the place is, like, the size of a closet for God's sake. She'd been in it before, it wasn't like she came here expecting quality leg room. She stared at her friend oddly, a million thoughts bubbling on her tongue as she tried to come up with an adequate response.
And then she caught something out of the corner of her eye, just behind Jughead.
Pushed up against the wall was a tiny cot covered with a worn out sleeping bag and a pillow, a hot plate, an assortment of food items, and a backpack overflowing with clothes and other items Brooke recognized as Jughead's belongings. Her gaze fixated on them for only a moment, but it was enough for Jughead to notice what she'd seen. His eyes widened in alarm and he swallowed thickly as he watched the wheels in Brooke's head begin to spin.
So here was the thing — she'd known for a while that things hadn't been going well in the Jones family. It had been pretty clear that the family was falling to shambles when his mother took off with his little sister to stay in Toledo all those months ago. Gladys left Jughead high and dry, leaving him behind with zero remorse to stay in Sunnyside Trailer Park with his dad, who was no better a parent than she was. FP had been a mess for years, relying on alcohol for support more than his family, and Brooke knew in that exact moment that she's seeing the effects of his addiction playing out in front of her eyes. As per the routine of their friendship, Brooke understands Jughead with no words being spoken.
He was living on his own in the projection booth. Suddenly, his intense anger at Pop's earlier that week made total sense. He wasn't just upset because the Twilight was closing and that he was losing his job. With the closing came Jughead losing a roof over his head. If him living in the booth was any clue, it was a no brainer that Sunnyside wasn't an option for him; he'd be effectively homeless come sunrise.
It was also something he was clearly ashamed of, considering the way he had tried to hide the interior of the booth to her and that he hadn't mentioned a single thing about this to him. As far as Brooke had been concerned up until now, Jughead had been living in the trailer park. And given the way he was looking at her right now, he didn't want to talk about it.
Brooke took a breath before giving him a halfhearted smile. Jughead waited, probably wondering if she was going to make him explain just what the hell had gone down between him and his father to lead to this. But she didn't.
Instead, she swallowed every single question she had and pursed her lips.
"You know what," she started, giving him a half shrug of her shoulders. "I think I'm going to go watch with Kevin and Veronica, they're supposed to be around here tonight."
Visibly, Jughead relaxed, his shoulders slumping down from his previous tense posture. "Yeah, I think I saw Kevin's truck pull in earlier."
She nodded. Brooke gave him another empty smile before turning to leave. But then she paused, glancing at him. "Text me later, okay? Maybe you and I can have a sleepover like when we were kids."
Translation? If you need some place to stay, you know which window is mine.
Despite how hard he was trying, the corner of Jughead's mouth turned upward in a small smile. They both knew the underlying meaning. Her invitation was not for a sleepover, but an offer to stay in her room. Brooke was not going to stand here and badger him all night about living in a fucking projection booth — although she really wanted to — but she wanted to make sure he knew that he had a place to go. Granted, being forced to sneak into the Holliday house under her mother's nose, considering Shannon was basically president of the Anti Jughead Jones club, wasn't exactly ideal. And he'd have to deal with her hogging the covers unless he wanted to sleep on her floor. But they had heating. And running water. And actual food to eat in place of ... was that a can of beans near his hot plate? Gross.
Brooke was offering him a place to stay, something she knew he'd do for her if the shoe was on the other foot. After nearly twelve years of friendship, Brooke Holliday was still looking out for her best friend.
"We'll see," Jughead told her with a laugh.
Translation? Thanks for the offer, Brooke.
It wasn't much of a guarantee that he'd show up, but was enough to satisfy her. Brooke nodded, giving him one last smile before he shut the door to the booth. She walked away, mind buzzing with how she really, really hated Jughead's parents.
Slipping her phone from her pocket, she tapped through a few things before bringing up her text thread with Kevin Keller, one of her close friends.
She met him through Betty a few years ago, the Cooper girl having become as close to Kevin as Brooke is to Jughead. Kevin was a ridiculously nice guy, the son of the Sheriff, and someone that Brooke had come to love over the years. She knew for a fact that he was going to be at the showing tonight, more than likely towing Veronica Lodge along with him.
Veronica, in the span of only a week, had become a hot topic in Riverdale. She was the quintessential new girl from New York, a former bad girl socialite trying her hand at the fall from grace schtick thanks to her father's recent arrest. Brooke, along with most of her friends, had been skeptical when the dark haired beauty started to worm her way into their social circle, but she'd been quick to prove herself as a genuine reforming bad girl.
Tapping a few keys, Brooke shot a text to Kevin about her predicament, only waiting less than a minute before her phone buzzed with a reply. She snorted lightly when her eyes scan his response.
Kevin Keller: It's like you and Veronica WANT to ward of hot guys from seeing me smh
"Classic Kevin," she mumbled to herself.
Brooke had made the exact same warding off hot guys comment earlier at school that day after Veronica had suggested she might be Kevin's good luck charm at finding a nice guy who likes guys tonight. Out of all of them, Kevin was probably the one that needed a good date and a sweet Prince Charming to sweep him off his feet the most. But being surrounded by girls probably wouldn't help him lure in a guy.
Her phone buzzed again, another message from Kevin popping up.
Kevin Keller: But fine, bring more popcorn
Brooke grinned, sending him an affirmative before tucking her phone back into her pocket. She trekked across the lot, making a beeline for the concession stand. The line was still abysmally small, much like the turn out for the movie. All thanks to one variable.
From where she stood, Brooke had a solid peripheral view of the Serpents that loiter on the premises for the night, rows of motorcycles and leather jackets as far as the eye could see. They were rowdy, yelling and swearing up a storm, actions that made Brooke roll her eyes. She knew they were doing it to get a rise out of people, but she wasn't falling for it.
She noticed him then, when there was only one person left in line before her. She stood patiently in line, hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans as she rocked back and forth on her heels. Discomfort fell over her, the kind of feeling you get when you just know that someone was watching you. Against better judgement, Brooke glanced around, blue eyes eventually landing on someone watching her almost instantly.
It was a guy, probably around her age, leaned up against the wall of the concession stand only a few feet away. He was tall, unreasonably tall in a way that made Brooke wonder if he'd even tower over her despite her own height. He was a mess of dark hair, dark eyes, and a mischievous smirk. He was easy on the eyes and Brooke couldn't seem to stop herself from becoming preoccupied with looking at him in return. He didn't go to Riverdale High, that much she could conclude. She knew for a fact she'd remember a face like that.
Those were the things that she noticed first.
What she noticed next was that she definitely wasn't imagining things — he definitely had his eyes trained on her. They seemed to roll over her figure, as if he had zero shame, not a care in the world. She could feel her cheeks heat up, but then she noticed something that threatened to make her pale.
Brooke saw the ink on his neck at the last second, a tattoo branded on the skin of his jugular. A double headed snake, the perfect compliment to the worn leather of the Serpent jacket he wore. It was at that moment that her eyes widened, just the slightest bit, and she forced herself to face front again.
Trying to ignore the fact that she could totally still see the Serpent staring at her, his frame shaking with laughter just visible out of the corner of her eye, she gave a weak smile to the boy behind the concession counter when she realized it was her turn.
"Hey, Ben," she greeted. Her eyes flickered to the menu on the wall and her movements were a bit jittery, unnerved just a bit. "Um, can I just get a large popcorn, a medium Sprite, and a box of Twizzlers?"
Ben Button nodded with a smile. "It'll just be a few minutes on the popcorn."
"Thanks, Ben," she called quietly, watching as he headed off to fill her order.
Brooke was left virtually alone then, the Serpent leaning against the wall only a few feet from her. She was uncomfortable, to say the least. It wasn't the fact that he was a Serpent, she didn't really care about any of that shit. But there was still that inkling in the back of her mind that managed to repeat most of the Northside's opinions of the gang.
Dangerous. Bad news. Troublemakers. Scum.
And — Jesus Christ, his tattoo was on his neck. What sane, non-dangerous person got a tattoo on their neck?
Overall, it was the staring that was sending a chill down her spine. She could still feel his eyes on her, burning a hole in her side, trailing up and down her form like she was something to eat. Was he checking her out? Was that what was happening? A Serpent checking out a Northsider? Did hell freeze over without giving her a memo first?
Brooke glanced over, even though all the thoughts bouncing around her brain pointed towards not doing that. Her eyes locked with his and she could see his lips pull upwards into a stupidly smug grin, a chuckle visibly vibrating through his shoulders. It was that cocky expression molding his features that made the discomfort seep out of her body almost instantly, leaving her with nothing but annoyance.
Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but let a string of biting words fall from her lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
He scoffed, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "You talking to me, princess?"
The nickname dripped off his tongue tauntingly and it made her lips purse in annoyance. Her brows knitted together for a moment before she rolled her eyes. "You're the one who seems to have an eye problem. And I don't know who the hell you think you're calling princess, but call me that again and see what happens."
This made him laugh, her cheap threat doing nothing but adding to his amusement. Annoyance remained masking her expression, although basically every sane part of her was telling her to cut the shit. Getting into a fight with a Serpent? Yeah, that one was probably at the top of the list entitled Things Brooke Holliday Shouldn't Do.
"For someone who doesn't like being called princess, you sure got that Northside princess attitude," he fired back, a sneer to his tone that dripped heavily over the word Northside.
Another eye roll. Raising an eyebrow at him, she asked, "Don't you have someone else to go bother?" Surely he needed to go run back to his obnoxious friends and leave her in peace.
"What, worried your little Bulldog boyfriend's gonna come over and see you slumming it with a Serpent?"
At the word Bulldog, Riverdale High's football team, Brooke nearly gagged. Most of those guys, in Brooke's experience, could easily be divided into two categories — friends and gross Neanderthals. No matter how badly the school's social hierarchy deems that she should, Brooke was certain she'd never date a football player.
"Okay, first of all, there's literally no slumming going on here right now," Brooke told him, waving a hand between the two of them. "And despite whatever your preconceptions of Northsiders are, my standards are a little higher than a Bulldog, sweetie."
Sweetie fell inevitably from her lips and she wanted to smack herself. When the hell did she start calling people like she was on some shitty soapy teen drama? God, that was a little too much embarrassment for a fucking school night. On the bright side, it seemed to throw him for a loop for a moment, before he rolled his eyes at her.
"Sweet Pea."
"I — what?"
"My name is Sweet Pea, not sweetie."
What the fuck ...
Like, look, okay, Brooke knew that people in gangs sometimes went by nicknames, that was just a given from TV shows and movies. But Sweet Pea? Weren't gang names supposed to be, like, menacing? Like Killer or Blade? Or at least something a little more intimidating than a flower?
She tried to hide her confusion — and amusement — but it didn't really work. "... Your name is Sweet Pea? Seriously?"
He nodded, glaring at her like her question offended him. "Seriously."
And then as if the universe decided Brooke needed more proof, someone from across the parking lot called out his name. Sweet Pea and Brooke turn their heads, gazes landing on a tanned teenager waving the former over. The nameless Serpent looked a little confused to see his friend talking to Brooke — honestly, same, dude she thought — before he made a gesture for Sweet Pea to hurry up. His eyes strayed to Brooke for a second, looking at her intensely before turning back to the bikers beside him.
Brooke glanced away, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Well, now she just looks stupid for questioning his name. Who would lie about their name being Sweet Pea, anyways?
A moment passed, Brooke's teeth releasing the pink flesh of her mouth. "So, uh ... you weren't kidding about your name being Sweet Pea, huh?" she asked awkwardly.
Sweet Pea looked amused. "See you around, princess," he told her, turning to head back to his friends and leaving her standing alone.
Brooke stood there in silence, all once thoroughly confused with what just happened and annoyed with herself for not telling him off for calling her princess again. Also, a possible strand of attraction because like ... well, she was only human and she had eyes and, like, just look at that ass in those jeans walk away.
Stupid neck tattoo asshole ...
"Brooke?"
She blinked, turning towards the source of the voice. Ben was leaning against the counter, her order in front of him.
"Oh, shit, yeah," she mumbled under her breath, having forgotten the fact that she was at the concession stand for a reason. It was amazing what a split second conversation with an asshole (read as: an asshole was attractive) can do to a girl's brain.
She shook her head at herself as if that was going to reorient her before digging through her pockets. When her hand closed around a few bills shoved in her jeans, she asked, "How much do I owe you?"
"Twelve fifty."
"Jesus Christ," she swore. Well, there was another reason this place was losing business. She handed him the money, shuffling the items into her arms. Sending Ben a grin, she told him, "Have a nice night."
With that, she started across the lot, willing herself not to glance over in the direction of where the Southside Serpents were camped out. The feeling of someone watching her was long gone, a good sign, but one that sort of made her feel a bit ... deflated?
Okay, wait, no. That was an issue for another day. No one had time to unpack all of that right now. Shoving it down, she made her way through the rows of cars filled with teenagers making out and families trying to get their overactive kids to settle down before the opening credits started rolling.
Eventually, only a few rows ahead of where the Serpents were parked, Brooke managed to pick out the tail end of Kevin's truck facing the screen. She sighed before plastering on a smile to greet her friends with.
"Hey guys," she greeted, climbing in without preamble.
"Hey girl!" Veronica responded, offering Brooke her signature million-dollar smile as she scooted over to make room.
Kevin, on the other hand, took a bit of a different approach. He plucked the tub of popcorn from Brooke's hands and settled back down, asking, "What took you so long? There's barely a line over there."
Brooke laughed, realizing that he was probably still in a mood from not having a date tonight. Climbing further into the bed, she managed to wedge her body between the truck's side and Veronica. She shrugged at Kevin. "Sorry, there was this guy and — "
"Oo, a guy? Do tell, Brooke, do tell," Veronica interrupted, a mischievous gleam to her eyes.
On Veronica's other side, Kevin perked up. "Oh my God, you were flirting with someone? Who was he? Was he hot? Do we know him?"
Brooke bit her lip, holding back a laugh as she contemplated her next words. Had she been flirting with him? Well, not really ... but, he had been attractive.
Reaching over Veronica, Brooke snagged a few pieces of popcorn from the tub. Tossing the buttered pieces in her mouth, she shrugged again. After swallowing, she sent her friends a grin, an amused glint to her eyes.
"Well, let's just say ... he's definitely not a Bulldog."