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Betty’s videos weren’t actually supposed to be her main source of income, but…well, things happen, and apparently AdSense revenue is easier to come by than a job in journalism that pays a living wage.
She’d taken a class in college that had required her to take up some social media platform as a semester-long project, and vlogging had seemed the most interesting to her, even if it was a bit mundane. Her days weren’t all that exciting, but she found herself doing more to have more content and talking a bit more honestly about her feelings when she looked into the camera than she would’ve looking into a mirror.
The first year or so, she hadn’t gotten much traction – they’d mostly been vlogs for her own catalog, or videos where she expounded upon some of the topics she covered in her classes. She learned how to edit and gotten better with her lighting and sound setup…and by the second year of her channel (her senior year in college), her videos were doing above average. She’d even participated in vlogmas, that year, dragging Archie to every stupid winter-themed activity she could find in the greater Riverdale area. He didn't mind – he’d even held the camera for her a few times while she did some hot chocolate taste testing at a Christmas market in Greendale.
She gets a manager after one of her vlogmas clips goes viral (she was doing a Christmas lingerie challenge to promote and discuss body positivity), and she starts getting brand sponsorships a few months after that.
She graduates college with honors, zero job prospects, and a ton of footage about the stress of your last semester that she edits together artfully and honestly. Even the footage Archie took of her graduation was woven in (though, she kept the raw version with Archie’s ear-splitting cheering and near-constant, “that’s my girl!”’s off the vlogs – her fans already speculated way too often about their relationship status, even though Betty had addressed it a few times in her videos) and the series got quite a bit of media attention. The first video of the series surpassing a million views in its first week online hadn’t hurt.
She moves to LA six months after her college graduation, because after twenty-three failed job interviews, she realized that maybe her way in was already in her lap – she could make content about what she wanted to talk about, use the resources she had available, and still make a difference in the landscape of journalism. Archie and Fred help her pack her UHaul – they seem to have some special way to arrange the furniture that makes everything fit perfectly, not realizing she’s not the one who will be unloading it anyway – and she tries not to cry when she hugs them goodbye. She fails, but she tries. She drives cross-country with her mother – which, in hindsight, was an awful idea – and the two of them scout townhomes for a few days before Betty finds the perfect little bungalow on the West side, a few blocks off the beach in Venice that is absolutely gorgeous and has a second bedroom she can use as an office. It’s a little out of her price range, but it’s the best of the places she’s found and with more brands reaching out to her for sponsorships, she figures she can swing it. She signs the lease, hires movers to unpack her stuff, leases a car, and drives her mother to the airport all in the span of a few days.
Archie waits about a month to hop on a plane and come out for a visit. She picks him up at the airport and manages to catch their reunion for the vlog. He waves to the camera when they’re back in the car and then takes it from her, asking her rapid-fire questions as she drives them back to her house.
“Wow, Betts,” he whistles as he walks through the door, “this is…wow.” She flushes – it’s embarrassing, honestly, to have him looking at her expensive rental house when she knows he knows her, in a real way.
“It’s for now,” she shrugs. The camera is away. He pulls her into a hug and she tucks her head under his chin, closing her eyes.
“You should be proud of yourself,” he says, his voice quiet. “This is awesome, and you did it all on your own.”
“You held the camera, sometimes,” she laughs, tilting her head up and scrunching her face at him. “People still think that Christmas lingerie was something I filmed for you, they ask me about it all the time.”
“Lucky me,” he chuckles, and she rolls her eyes at him.
Archie brought his guitar, which Betty had advised against but he said he couldn’t take a vacation and not bring it along (“she might have separation anxiety,” he’d chuckled into the phone,) so he decides to sign up for a few open mic nights at the bars in her neighborhood. They walk down Abbot Kinney and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, his guitar slung over his other arm, and she turns the camera on him. “Tell them what we’re doing,” she says, grinning over at him.
“Well, you see Betty-bots,” Betty snorts – he’s been trying on new names for her fans for the past six months, but none of them have stuck – and he grins into the lens, “I’m a musician, so…I’m going to go play some music, and see if I get any bites. ‘Cause the sooner I can get someone to hear me play and like it, the sooner I can move out here and join our girl, here.” Betty shakes her head, flipping the camera back to her and explaining the open mics in a more detailed way, then flashes it back to Archie.
“You nervous?” She raises a brow as he looks at her over the camera.
“Me? Never,” he grins, and she notices it’s a little bashful. “Well, a little. I’m always a little nervous. It helps that I know exactly one person in this state, though, and she won’t make fun of me if I mess up.”
“Oh, I’ll make fun of you,” Betty laughs, rolling her eyes at him. “Not only will I make fun of you, I’ll record you and put you online for everyone to see.”
“Great,” Archie deadpans, “that really helps the nerves.”
They make it to the first bar, small and a little dingy, and Archie sets himself up. He plays through a few songs and gets a bit of applause. It’s like that at the second bar, too, but the third is where he really hits his stride. Betty films him close to the stage, and she catches him looking right at her a few times, a smile radiating up to his eyes.
She really loves watching him play, and apparently the sentiment is shared by the rest of the crowd, because he gets a few people coming up to him when he’s finished. Betty hangs back by the bar, ordering them beers and waiting for him to finish chatting.
When he comes back over, he’s holding a few business cards. “I think I’m going to be able to get some session work,” he grins, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a bar napkin and then taking the beer she’s holding out for him.
“Arch, that would be great,” she squeezes his arm. “You sounded amazing up there.”
“Thanks,” he smiles, taking a pull on his beer. “Hey,” he says, after a long few moments, “do you think if I actually wind up booking gigs…I could stay with you? Not for long, just a-,”
“Archie, of course,” she taps his calf lightly with her foot, “you think I have a second bedroom just for fun? You’re supposed to come visit me as much as you want.” He doesn’t say anything, just pulls her into a sweaty hug. She doesn’t miss the way his hands linger a bit on her lower back before he releases her.
Archie books session work – a lot of it. He winds up in LA at least twice a month, even though he does what he can remotely in a studio in New York. It turns out he’s good at improvising riffs for TV scores and he’s got a fast enough turnaround that he gets booked up pretty quickly. After a few months of the back and forth, when Betty’s driving him back to LAX for what feels like the ninetieth time, she brings it up. “Why don’t you just move here?”
Archie blinks at her. “It’s expensive here,” he shrugs, “and my dad…I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Arch, I have a spare room – you could have it…and your dad would be alright. It wouldn’t have to be forever, just,” she shrugs, “you’re so tired. Traveling sucks, especially like this…I bet it would be easier on you if you just stayed in one spot.”
“Yeah,” he runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll think about it,” he shrugs, “I don’t know yet. I…it’d be a big deal.” Betty squeezes his forearm.
Archie thinks about moving to LA for the entire flight back to New York. He talks about it with his dad on the car ride home, and by the time he’s there, he’s decided.
“I’m coming,” he says, when Betty answers the phone. “I mean, moving. To LA. If your offer still stands.” Betty screams so loud that he has to pull the phone away from his ear.
Archie moves to LA on a Thursday, hugging his Dad in the terminal and sniffling his way through security. Betty finds him in the arrivals lane and, even though she has mentioned a million times how getting out of the car is absurd, jumps out of the car to squeeze him into a huge hug. He laughs and stumbles dramatically, grinning when she smacks him on the shoulder.
Betty pulls out her camera in the car and hands it to him, and he records the both of them. “I wanted you guys to meet my new roommate,” she laughs into the camera as Archie turns it on himself, grinning.
“That’s right, Betty Bees, you guys are stuck with me.”
“Betty Bees?”
“It’s better than Betty Wasps,” Archie shrugs, then turns back to the camera. “I was getting too busy for New York…and besides, my favorite person living across the country? Didn’t like that.”
Betty laughs, taking the camera and turning it off, tossing it into her bag.
When they get to the house, Betty watches as Archie loads what he has into the guest room – his room. “Listen,” she says, scrolling through her emails and frowning, “I ordered your mattress, but apparently it’s a little delayed…s’running a day or two late, but they said it’ll be here by Saturday at the latest.”
“No big deal,” Archie waves a hand, “I’ll be fine on the couch for a day or two.”
Betty rolls her eyes at him, “Arch, how many times have we shared a bed in our lives? C’mon, you’ve been traveling and everything – you deserve to sleep in a bed. Besides, mine’s pretty big, you won’t even notice I’m there.”
“You don’t have to do that, Betts,” Archie gives her a soft smile, already knowing she won’t take no for an answer.
They sleep in her bed for three nights, falling asleep far apart and waking up cuddled in each other’s arms. It’s not awkward, or anything – Archie even kisses her on the head, one morning. She can’t say she doesn’t miss him when his mattress finally does arrive.
She’s vlogging her daily coffee one morning in the kitchen when Archie walks behind her without a shirt, opens the fridge, and starts rooting around for food the way he always does. She waits for him to settle on cereal – Froot Loops, as per usual – and take a heaping bite before she turns the camera on him. “Say good morning to the vlog,” she says, smirking as he dribbles milk down his chin and onto his chest.
“Morning vlog,” he says, his mouth full. She rolls her eyes.
The next day, she’s scrolling through comments when she notices several – “are they dating?” and, “barchie is living together??!?!?” and, “omg WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN he is SHIRTLESS IN THE KITCHEN”. She texts Archie a screenshot, adding, ‘We have a fan club’ and he texts her back almost immediately, ‘they call us barchie? that sounds like a disease.’
The comments don’t stop, though. She’s sure it’s because Archie’s in her vlogs more, now – they live together, so even if she’s not doing something with him, they’re still around each other more. Plus, he rarely wears shirts in the house – which, she can’t exactly say she minds. He’s her best friend, though, and he always has been. Sure, sometimes they cuddle up on the couch and she’s caught him looking at her legs a bit too long before, but…well, he’s Archie. She’s sure if that ship was supposed to have sailed, it would have already – right?
So, she vlogs – she tries new things, like cooking, and Archie almost always winds up popping into her videos. She finds that she has more fun editing when he’s there, that she likes being able to laugh at them together, at the way he acts around her again and again as she edits his pauses out, amplifies his sound.
She doesn't question why sometimes she just winds up watching the clips she cuts of him over and over, smiling at the sound of his voice, at the grin he always seems to be wearing.
Archie gets a gig at a bar she's actually heard of, and she dresses up for it. He's got to be at soundcheck early, so she shows up alone in a short dress and heeled booties with her hair blown out. Archie grins when he sees her out in the audience, playing through the bulk of his set and then leaning into the microphone. "I have one last song, but I just wanted to give it a proper introduction, here," he strums a little, looking down at the guitar and then back out at the audience, "my best friend, Betty, is the best person I know, and I wrote this song for her -- she hasn't heard it, yet, but I know her pretty well...so I think she'll like it. Thanks for always having my back, Betts," he shoots her a grin before launching into the song, and she feels her heart in her throat as Archie sings about a green-eyed girl who could never be denied.
Some of her fans find her at the bar after Archie's set, and after she takes a few selfies and grabs herself a drink, she sees the same gaggle of girls bum rush Archie. They giggle and he smiles for photos, then makes his way over to her.
"Arch, the song was beautiful," she smiles, putting her hand on his sweaty arm. "I...I can't believe you wrote that for me."
"You can't?" He grins at her, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. "Betts, I," he lets go of her, smiling down at her. His cheeks are pink, and she can't tell if it's because of the heat or because he's blushing. "You're the best person I know, 'course I wrote that for you. I could write a whole album for you and it wouldn't be enough."
They get interrupted by the booker calling him over to discuss future gigs. She's almost thankful, because she's not sure where that was going, but her heart feels like it might actually beat out of her chest.
He's lying on the couch one day while she sits at the kitchen island, looking through comments and responding. Almost every other comment is about her and Archie -- ranging from, "they are absolutely fucking, look at how he LOOKS at her," to, "god they are the cuuuuuutest, i can't take it," to, "do you think we're ever going to get a boyfriend tag? you guys aren't stealth," -- and she really doesn't know what to do. Are they right? She decides to watch a fan-made compilations -- "three minutes of barchie being obliviously in love" -- and plugs her headphones in, chewing on her thumbnail as she watches.
A flash of her, staring at Archie with big eyes. Her, throwing her head back laughing as Archie pokes her in the ribs. Archie, lifting her up and spinning her around on the beach. Archie, flicking flour at her the last time they baked. She watches Archie leaning over to kiss her on the side of the head, pull her into his side, press his face into her hair. The video ends with a time lapse she'd taken a few months ago of them watching a movie on the couch, wherein she'd fallen asleep and snuggled into his side, and he'd covered her with a blanket, kissed the top of her head, and ran his fingers along her arm for the duration of the movie.
Fuck. Were they in love? She feels like she's been smacked in the face by something that's just been sitting right in front of her, but she thinks maybe they love each other. She thinks back to the song Archie sang in the bar -- his lyrics still burned into her brain, "honey you should know, that I could never go on without you." She sucks in a breath. Could she go on without him? She shuts her eyes. She knows she couldn't.
She opens her eyes and hears him laughing through her headphones at the TV. She shuts her laptop and takes out her headphones, walking over to the couch and sitting down next to him. He pulls her feet into his lap like it's second nature and she smiles softly. "Hey, Arch?"
"Yeah," he's a little distracted by the TV, but then he turns to look at her and smiles, turning it down, "what's up?"
She presses her lips together, looking at his hands casually grazing her calves rather than his face. "So, I've been doing...well," she tries to shake off her nerves, "I was just...going through the comments on my last video, and I was just...you know how vocal they are, lately." He furrows his brow in confusion, but nods for her to continue. "I was just...thinking. You know, for research-purposes. If I...wanted to kiss you right now," she looks down at his lips because she can't not, "how...how would you feel about that? Hypothetically, of course."
His hands continue their little graze over her calves, and she watches his face carefully for any kind of falter. He's watching his own hands, too, but he's got a smile on his lips. He peeks up at her. "I would say," he says, slowly, "that you should go for it, 'cause I've been wanting to kiss you for a while and I haven't known how." She watches his neck grow hot. "Hypothetically, of course."
"Of course," she breathes, and it kind of smacks her in the face -- the way they are together, the way they've always been together. She finds his eyes. "Of course," she smiles, softly. She pulls her legs back beneath her and sits up on her knees, leaning forward to bring herself closer to him and closing the space between them before she can think better of it.
The second her lips are on his, she feels like an idiot, because this is easily the best kiss she's ever had. His hand moves into her hair and he pulls her body closer, brushing his thumb along her cheek as she slides her tongue along his lower lip. Her last rational thought before she gives up on thinking is that she really should have been doing this for years.
When they pull back, he runs his thumb over her lower lip, smiling at her and letting out a slow breath. "D'you think they're gonna think we're dumb?"
Betty wrinkles her brow at him, not sure what he's talking about for a long moment. Then it hits her, and she lets out a laugh. "I think they already think we're dumb," she mumbles, crawling into his lap and kissing him softly. "I don't blame them," she mumbles against his lips, "I think we're dumb."
"Yeah," he mumbles, chuckling against her mouth. He presses a hand against her lower back, pulling her closer. "Enough," he says, when they pull away for air, "with the thinking, though."
She nods, running her fingers through his hair. She's glad, at least, she won't need the footage to remember this moment.