bughead one shots💕

Fake Love

TRIGGER WARNING: There is bullying and mentions of suicide in this story, read at your own risk.

Betty's POV:

I walk down the halls of Riverdale high, clutching my books to my chest. People whisper and stare as I walk past them, but I just keep my head down and try to ignore them. Last week, my dad was found out to be the Blackhood, and everyone in school is scared of me. They judge me and tell me that I'm gonna be just like him. What they don't know though is that I am terrified of turning out like him- hurting people. I know I have a darkness inside me, but I don't know how deep the darkness runs, and that's what scares me. I turn the corner, and bump into someone. In the process my books drop out of my arms, and I kneel down to pick them up. 

"I'm sorry." I mumble and glance up at the person who is standing there, just staring at me. I grab all my books and quickly leave the person standing there. I walk into math, and take a seat in the far back corner where I won't be noticed. I slouch down in my chair to make myself ever more invisible. People turn around in their chairs and point and snicker. I keep my eyes trained on the front of the classroom, where the teacher is starting the lesson for the day. The whole class, notes are being thrown at me from every direction. I ignore them and let the papers bounce off my body and land on the floor. I don't even need to read them to know what they say. They're the same ones I've been getting for the past week: "You're a slut" "Go to hell" "You belong in an insane asylum" "You're just like him" "Crazy Cooper". Those are just some of the things that have been said to me. I fold my arms in front of me and lay me head onto my arms, tuning out the teacher. I stare blankly at the wall as I feel another paper hit my head. For the rest of class I stay in that position and don't even bother to attempt any of the work. 

The bell rings signaling the end of the day, and I hurriedly gather my things and race out the door. I speed walk to my locker, and put in my combination with shaky hands. I shove my books in my backpack, and sling it over my shoulder. I slam it shut, and just my luck, Reggie Mantle and his goons are standing there on the other side. They smirk when they see me, and Reggie walks closer to me.

"Well well if it isn't Crazy Cooper. How's life going, psycho? You shouldn't even be allowed to roam these halls or the streets. You are just like your dad. One day you're just gonna snap, and then hurt someone. You should be ashamed of who you are. You're just a pyscho bitch." I look at the ground by my feet as tears well up in my eyes. Reggie bumps my shoulder harshly with his as he walks past. His friends laugh and high-five him, and clap each other on the back. I discreetly wipe my tears and walk out the doors. I put my earbuds in and start blasting Lewis Capaldi and Dean Lewis, letting it flow through the wires and into my ears. I let the music drown out the pain and suffering I feel bubbling up in my body. 

I push open the doors of Pop's, and listen to the familiar bell jingle above my head announcing my arrival. The whole diner goes quiet as I walk to the back, and put my uniform on. I work at Pop's everyday, except for Sundays- Pop says it's not good to work as much as I do. He doesn't understand the situation I'm in though. Just like everyone else in this town, my own mother is afraid of me becoming like my father, so she kicked me out. I came home from school one day, and found a bag of my belongings and a note. Ever since then, I've picked up shifts at Pop's to pay for the tiny apartment I'm currently living in. It's on the Southside by an alleyway. I know, not the most ideal place to live, but it's the only place I could find that was cheap enough. I tighten my ponytail and say hi to Pop, before going back out and starting to serve people. They all seem extremely weary of me, but none say anything- well not to my face. I do my job, and try not to listen to the news on the TV, as they talk about my father's arrest. Giving updates on where he is and how long he'll be in prison for. I watch as people's eyes flicker between the picture of him and me, trying to distinguish who is more evil.