𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 ¹

|𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮 | 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓘𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱𝔂|

Chapter One - This Isn't Healthy 

Nobody knows what it feels like

Nobody knows how to help me

And I'm starting to think there's something wrong with me

No, this ain't healthy

How much I think about you every day

There's no counting all the miles I go out my way 

And I'm sick thinking 'bout you when you're not with me

No, this ain't healthy

-PRETTYMUCH, "Healthy"

***

"Are you ready, mija?" her mother called out from the other room, she sighed closing the book that sat before her, she'd opened it intending on spilling out all of her emotions onto its pages, she knew keeping everything inside was bad, but telling anyone else was worse, so she'd relied on the little leather cover book since she was eight, it'd been her best friend, the only thing she could trust to be there for her forever, that was before she had the life she had now,

Cheryl Blossom, Reggie Mantle, Jughead Jones, and Archie Andrews had taken the place of her old songbook, so much so that she hadn't even bothered taking it back to Riverdale from her last trip to New York, but again that was before when she had no worries, it seemed as if the last two months had been a complete one-eighty from what her life had been since fifth grade when they first moved to Riverdale since she'd set foot in the small town her life had taken a turn for the better, what she found there was something she'd been missing all along and since she'd found it the only word she could use to describe her life was perfect, 

Now, everything was different again, she felt like that same scared ten-year-old girl who carried around a pen and paper at all times so she had an escape from all of the terrors she faced whenever she decided that leaving her home was a good idea, which was the reason she'd brought out her songbook again, she didn't intend on using it, it seemed as if everything until then while bad had been bearable, it wasn't until three days ago that the bearable pain became borderline agonizing, 

When she woke up crying at three in the morning a few hours prior it was clear that the year that awaited her wouldn't be the greatest, she'd gotten up and walked into the kitchen to find her mother crying as well, which wasn't an unusual sight anymore, she'd take in a deep breath walked over to the kettle gotten herself a cup of chamomile tea, kissed the top of her mom's head, and whispered, 'We'll get through this, mama," before she returned to her room, her already bloodshot eyes watering, as she closed the door she'd glanced over at her old desk and caught a glmipse of the worn out black leather cover, the words 'Ronnie's Songbook' had faded into practically nothing she only knew it was there because the memory of scribbling it onto a piece of cardstock before taping it onto it was one of the fondest she had left of the years she'd spent in New York as a little girl, she sighed and walked over taking a seat at the creaky white wooden chair her father had built her, and opened it grabbing her old glittery purple pen staring down at the fresh page that had nothing on it besides 'page 90' written in tiny letters at the bottom right corner of it, and it remained blank five hours later, no matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to put her misery into words and that was probably the worst thing about pain to her, when it was so grand there wasn't a way to emphasize how terrible it really was,

"Ronnie!" her mother called out to her again breaking her away from her thoughts,

"Voy!" she yelled back, rolling her eyes at the mumbling from the other side of her door, her mother going on and on about how she needed to watch her tone and how yelling that was considered "disrespectful," when it literally was the same thing as yelling "coming" she didn't let it bother her though, her mother had a lot on her plate so her irritability was understandable,