word count: 1,385

     BETTY COOPER GLANCED AROUND THE EMPTY DINER, her feet already hurting in the rollerblades she had donned. Granted they were cute, but not what the real waitresses wore daily. 

Ginny sat on the counter besides Jughead, bemused with the blonde's outfit. While Betty had desired a cute look with Pop's Diner shirt, Ginny wore her white apron with her hair pulled back into messy braids. There was no need to look cute while she worked. The humidity of the sweltering kitchen made the brunette's hair stick out like straw. Jughead looked adorable with his busboy outfit: white button-up shirt, white apron, and a black bowtie.

"No one's here. No one's coming," Betty turned to the couple, dismayed. She glanced between the pair and back to the front door, thinking a person was seconds away from entering. No one did enter.

"It's still early, okay?" Jughead reassured Betty. He turned to Ginny, wanting to reassure her too. Her job was at stake. He knew that this was her only source of income and he wanted to help her the most. 

"Mom," Betty groaned as her blonde mother entered the diner, glancing around at the dismal attendance. She batted away the colorful balloons that donned the entry. "What, did you come to gloat?"

"Oh, don't be so cynical, Elizabeth." Betty had her hands on her hips as defense, her mother was unwanted at this event. They didn't need a new story about Pop's Diner and its failures to be posted.

"I came to write my next story over one last root beer float. I'm calling it 'Requiem for Pop's'. Can I get a quote, dear?" No one knew if she was being serious or sarcastic. She sat down in an adjacent booth, pulling out her laptop from her purse. 

"You're a fiend, Mother, but this is one obituary that you're not gonna write," Ginny smirked. How the hell did Betty always find the perfect thing to say?

Some time went by and all was well at the diner. People from around town had started coming in. Ginny had started directing the volunteers on how to take orders and serve. Hey, Betty Cooper had never worked a day in her life at a restaurant. Thankfully, Pop and Ginny managed the situation while Betty served and Jughead bussed.

Even Veronica Lodge was participating and helping out. She wore the same costume Betty was wearing– supporting the diner. "All right, two strawberries, one vanilla, and one chocolate with extra malt."

Josie and the Pussycats came into the diner, making a beeline to Betty Cooper. Obviously, Josie was annoyed with something Betty had done by the scowl on her pretty face. "Why the hell did you broadcast all over social media that the Pussycats would be doing a free concert here tonight?"

Cheryl casually sat on the countertop, pretending to be nonchalant. But she was in desperate need of drama. And, if Betty Cooper was involved, she needed to do something.

"I knew that if I asked you, you would have said–" Betty was interrupted by Josie.

"No!" Josie exclaimed, frustrated. Why would Betty do something that she didn't want to do? And to assume?!

"Mmm-hmm." Betty barely could hum in agreement before Josie continued her rant.

"If my mom even hears that I set foot in this place–"

"Josie, you care about this place, I know you do. I see you in here all the time." Betty tried calming down the annoyed singer. She attempted using reason before doing anything else. 

"Betty, even if I wanted to help, I'm down a cat. Valerie has norovirus–"

"I don't mind stepping in," it was Cheryl who interrupted this time. She was pleased suddenly to be of service. "After all, if you can be a River Vixen, Josie, I can be a Pussycat." Cheryl continued speaking as a look of disbelief was sent her way by Josie. "As long as it's a cover, I'm sure I'll know the lyrics." Cheryl looked between the three girls, knowing that she was in. 

"I mean, you do love your cheese fries, Josie." Melody chimed in, knowing her friend the best. She knew that Josie would hate to see Pop's diner close for good, no matter what her mother had to say.

"Fine. Fine." Josie conceded and Betty clapped her hands in excitement. She turned to look at Ginny who was behind the counter watching the full encounter. Betty smiled widely and Ginny smiled back. Maybe, just maybe... Pop's Diner could be saved.

And it would all be thanks to Betty Cooper.

That thanks, however, would never be spoken aloud.

Why?

Because the Pussycats and Cheryl chose the worst song ever. Why in their godforsaken minds would they choose Milkshake?! Yes, Ginny did understand that Pop's Diner sold milkshakes... but the connotation of the lyrics?! Thank God Pop didn't understand. 

And another thing– why did the Pussycats have to go onto the roof out of all spots to sing? First, Ginny thought, dangerous. Second of all, how did they manage to get lighting up there? 

There was a crowd gathering, so technically, it was a success. Only these damn fools would agree with it though. 

Guess Ginny was the only one who believed the whole spectacle was weird. 

º   º   º

"Hey there Daddy-o." Veronica greeted her boyfriend, as he entered the diner. Archie paused in the doorway, looking down at the ground for a moment. He then glanced up and smiled lightly at Veronica. 

"You made it. You feeling okay?" Veronica asked as she embraced Archie, looking up at him with a concerned look. She knew him well enough to know something was wrong.

"Yeah, just taking deep breaths," Archie admitted. The diner would forever haunt him. He didn't want to worry Veronica though, so kept his mouth shut.

"I'm proud of you. Come on, you take a booth. And I'll get you a shake." Veronica had grabbed his hand, pulling him towards an open booth. Half of the diner was occupied while the Pussycats sang outside. 

Ginny had been appointed by Pop to go around to each table and make sure their experience was exceptional. And if not, the guests would be able to receive a free milkshake. Ginny was happy that Pop trusted her enough to do so. He held her in high regard, she felt like she was almost a manager!

"Hey, Arch," Ginny greeted her friend. She sat down in the booth, stretching her legs out to extend over the edge. She didn't want anyone else to sit down while they talked. The brunette teen knew that Pop wasn't strict about anything Ginny did. She knew she could take a five-minute break and catch up with Archie. Especially with that vacant look in his eyes, she knew that they needed to talk. 

"Oh– Hey Gin." Archie sent a troubled smile her way. He hadn't seen her in awhile, so it was good that she appeared before him. His smile faltered as he took in her waitressing uniform. She was wearing that last time.

"You're not looking so good," Ginny said, implicating something was wrong. She noticed his gaze drop down to her uniform, both envisioning it soaked in Fred Andrew's blood.

"It's hard to be back in here," Archie admitted, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. "I'm shocked that you're fine– you're acting as if nothing happened."

Ginny inhaled sharply, she had shut out that day to the best of her ability. Yes, she remembered that day clearly. "Archie, I know that I haven't gone what you've been feeling. But yes, I do think about that day, constantly." 

Archie gulped, nodding as he listened to his friend. It was good for him to listen, he needed someone who could relate to him. Maybe he wasn't as paranoid as he thought he was. 

Virginia Hopkins continued, a wobble in her voice. "I think about how I got knocked out first. If I was awake– maybe your dad wouldn't have been shot." 

"W–Why do you say that?!" Archie exclaimed, shocked. This was a turn he hadn't thought of. 

"Archie, you had surprised the robber when you reentered the room– he felt threatened that I had called the cops and that you had entered."

"That doesn't mean–"

"I was the problem, Arch. I had dialed the cops. I wasn't that threatening because I was a girl. He thought I was a frail girl. Which is true, I couldn't tackle the robber. But your dad could've. The masked robber was scared. If he hadn't knocked me out... maybe it would have been a better chance to catch him." Ginny was rambling now, she didn't know what she was saying. 

However, she didn't say the words she was thinking:

"I wish it was me that was shot."