When Jason Blossom is presumed dead, Riverdale shifts on its axis. Letting in the horror, and darkness that had been held at bay.
Archie, Veronica, Clary, Jughead, and Betty grapple with desires, love, drama, and murderers all while coping with the...
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Clarissa Cooper
"WE WERE TESTED THIS YEAR. AS A TOWN, AS A COMPANY, MAINLY AS A
family. And it may not have been Jason's hand that staked the maple this year, but it was the hand of hope," Clifford addressed the table, his voice carrying a solemn weight. Applause followed his words, echoing through the room.
"Don't mistake their gestures for kindness or sincerity. They wanted me to fail at the tree-tapping," Cheryl leaned over and whispered to Archie beside her. "But you're going to help with all that," she added with determination.
"I'll do whatever I can," Archie assured her, his commitment firm. We all began to dig into the food laid out before us, the atmosphere filled with a mix of tension and forced conviviality.
Clifford approached Archie, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Archibald, can I have a word?" he asked, and Archie nodded, excusing himself. We exchanged a glance, acknowledging the weight of the moment.
I glanced at the empty chair beside me, a poignant reminder of Jason's absence. Running my fingers over the fabric, I sighed softly, feeling the absence keenly in the midst of the gathering.
I watched intensely as Archie moved from conversing with Mr. Blossom to dancing with Polly. Just then, Clifford picked a fight with Cheryl about her relationship with Archie, insisting it was for the good of the family. I interjected, pointing out that Archie already had a girlfriend, but Mrs. Blossom promptly whisked me away from the table to a mini stage they had set up for my performance. Tonight, I was the entertainment, but this year, I was missing my usual backup act.
Grabbing the guitar placed next to the stool, I sat down and adjusted the mic stand. Strumming lightly, I began to sing into the mic, my voice airy yet filled with emotion. The soft melody drew the attention of those around the table, who started to pair up and dance slowly.
"Last night, I spiraled alone in the kitchen, making pretend that the furniture listened," I sang, my eyes flickering over to where Archie and Polly stood, trying to discern their conversation.
"It wasn't the best of my mental conditions, but I tried thinking of you without any forgiveness," I continued, my voice carrying a hint of melancholy.
"Because I was the one who would stay up and call you, and I'd drive to your house for the shit that you went through," I sang, turning towards Cheryl who had risen from her seat in agitation.
"Cause we didn't happen the way we were supposed to, I know that I should hate you,"I strummed harder, the chords echoing my conflicted emotions.
"Pulled the knife out of my bag, it was right where you left it," I sang, my gaze shifting to Polly, who had moved on to dance with Clifford Blossom after Archie followed Cheryl out of the room.
"But your aim's kinda perfect, I'll give you the credit. I just drank something strong to try to forget, but it wasn't right, no, you're not even here, but you're doin' my head in," I continued, the lyrics resonating with the turmoil within me.
"I know that I should hate you," I repeated with increasing intensity, the song becoming a raw expression of my inner turmoil. Glancing to where Jason should have been, I felt a surge of anger that fueled my performance.
"I should hate you, I feel stupid like I almost crashed my car, driving home to talk about you at my table in the dark," I sang, the emotion pouring out in every word.
"All I ever think about is where the hell you even are," I continued, the pain evident in my voice as I struggled to make sense of everything.
Suddenly, it clicked. Jason wasn't physically present, but he had left me a clue. A hint that should have been glaringly obvious all along.
"And I swear to God I'd kill you, if I loved you less hard," I sang fiercely, the realization hitting me like a wave. Jason was gone, but his influence lingered, guiding me to the truth.
"After all of this time, I still get disappointed. Bet you're doing alright and you don't even know it," I sang, my eyes scanning the room, observing the reactions of those around me.
"How it's all 'cause of you that my standards are broken in my mind, I would bend back to you if you left the door open," I continued, the words a confession of vulnerability.
"I know that I should hate you," I repeated, each repetition a revelation as I processed the complexity of my emotions.
The song drew to a close, and I stood up, emotionally overwhelmed. The applause from those nearby was drowned out by the turmoil within me. "Excuse me," I muttered, barely holding back tears. I hurried to the bathroom, gripping the sink as I sobbed uncontrollably.
Looking up through tear-filled eyes, I saw Jason standing behind me in the mirror. I gasped and spun around, but he wasn't there. Confusion and grief washed over me. Why was I seeing him now? What did it mean?
After my emotional outburst at the party, I decided to leave. I found Jughead at the bijou and together we went to my home, where we found my mom in the kitchen, drinking wine and quietly crying.
"Mom?" I said softly as we entered. She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but hopeful.
"Archie just called. He talked to Polly. She's safe. She's okay, Mom," I said, relief evident in my voice. "She didn't choose the Blossoms over us. She's actually there to spy on them."
My mom let out a mixture of a chuckle and a sob. "You know, when I went after this story... I thought, in the back of my mind, 'What if this is it? What if this is finally the time that she doesn't come back?'"
"She will, Mom," I reassured her, sitting down beside her and taking her hand. "And right now, she's our woman on the inside. We're going to write this story."
Before I could say more, Jughead offered, "Come write with us at the Blue and Gold."
"The school newspaper?" Mom chuckled sadly, her emotions still raw.
"Yeah, that's what we are. But I'm pretty sure that our annual operating budget is bigger than the Register's," Jughead added with a smirk.
My mom smiled through her tears and squeezed my hand. It was a moment of shared understanding and solidarity, a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil our family had been through.
As Archie Andrews returned from the brink, he brought one more revelation to our attention.
"At the banquet, I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Blossom talking," Archie began, his tone grave as he perched on a table in the Blue and Gold room. "It sounded like Clifford Blossom was responsible for sending Veronica's dad to jail."
"Oh, my God," I whispered, the implications sinking in. "If Clifford sent Hiram Lodge to jail, tearing apart his family, then maybe Hiram was trying to do the same thing to him?"
"Yeah, by going after what the Blossoms value most—their family, their legacy," Jughead interjected, capturing the essence of the motive on a notecard labeled "Hiram Lodge," which he pinned to the murder board.
Winter had descended early upon Riverdale, harsh and unyielding. Yet, it paled in comparison to the tempest brewing—a storm of chaos named Cheryl Blossom.
