Chapter Three
" THAT WAS A JOKE, YOU HOBO! "

"You did what now?" asked Christie. "I asked Cheryl to be my subject for the Riverdale Picture Show and she said yes. Aren't you proud?" said Sydney. "Proud doesn't even begin to cover it," Roan piped up, "a hard-hitting exposé on the dark side of popularity and how it isn't what it's cracked up to be. You can see what Cheryl's home life is like and — "

"Whoa. I am not going to exploit Cheryl's problems to the public for the festival. Her personal life is hers and hers alone. If she's willing to disclose any information to me I'll put in what she tells me. Okay?" Sydney was all of a sudden stiff when she heard what Roan said, knowing the backstabbing feeling of having a secret being spread when she wasn't ready to tell it herself.

She was outed by her straight-as-a-stick crush via online messaging when she was in middle school and went home a crying mess because she felt so vulnerable and ruined that her special moment was taken away from her. So Sydney was very against exploitation and bean spilling.

"Sorry," Roan mumbled. "What are you planning on asking her?"

"Um, I guess I'll find out because I have to meet with her during lunch which is happening right now so I'll see you guys later, right?" Sydney began tossing her things into her messenger bag and waved goodbye to her two best friends. "Later," Roan and Christie said together.

Sydney quickly left the room and made for the cafeteria. "S'cuse me, sorry, gotta get to the redhead." She weaved through the crowd and before she could even apologize for being late, Cheryl said, "First day and you're already late? Which reminds me, we need to come up with a strict filming schedule, no hanging around before or after. Got it?"

"Got it. I'll be too busy editing,anyway, so I'll be out of your way," Sydney agreed. "Hold this." Cheryl shoved her lunch tray at her, which held a bowl of salad, a bread roll, and a bottle of water on its side. Cheryl then began to inspect the salad toppings, putting them into the bed of lettuce one by one. "I think we should have a budget. Fifty dollars should suffice."

"A week? I only get five dollars a day for lunch."

"That sounds like a personal problem," Cheryl deadpanned. "I'm gonna pay for my lunch, go save me a seat with the cheerleaders."

When Sydney didn't move, she added, "Shoo, little birdie."

That got Sydney moving. She maneuvered around and finally made it to the table. "Don't worry, I won't be here long. You can melt my chair when I leave," she said when she was met with dirty looks, sitting down and setting the tray next to her. "I see you've met the Vixens." Cheryl got to the table and sat where her tray was located. "Yeah. All complete sweethearts," said Sydney, her sarcastic tone underlying. "Ready to get started?"

"Where's your camera?" asked Cheryl. "It's in my bag." Sydney swung her messenger bag around to dig out a Sony a7 camera. She turned it on, propped it up, and turned on the viewfinder. "What's it like being popular and the head cheerleader of the River Vixens? The ups, the downs. Are there any misconceptions about popularity that you'd like to clear up?"

"Popularity isn't all that complex. You're either popular or you're not. Big whoop."

"Would you say that there are tiers of popularity? Say, prom queen popular and captain of the football team popular?"

"Oh, please." Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Those are so two thousand ten, thinking that there was a pyramid of popularity. It's not the middle ages where there were kings, merchants, and peasants. Today, you just have to be lucky enough to not be trampled by social climbers."

"But you just said that popularity tiers didn't exist anymore," Sydney recalled. "I know," Cheryl rebutted, "nowadays, it's all about getting straight to the top. Whether that be sleeping your way there or abusing someone else's power for their own personal gain."

"Would you care to give some examples?"

Before Cheryl could answer, an obnoxious football player got in the way of the good lighting. "Hey, buddy, you're blocking Cher's light," said Sydney. He turned around and asked, "Why is there a film geek here?"

"She's making a movie about me that might make me famous at Sundance. Play nice," Cheryl seethed and the football player walked away. "Thanks, Cheryl. So, how'd you end up on top? Did you have to climb your way?" asked Sydney. "Oh, god no. Have you heard about the maple syrup company my family runs? I'm assuming you live under a rock." Cheryl gave her a look.

"You mean the one that was actually shipping drugs out of Riverdale? Yeah, I know. The tragedy made headlines." Sydney reciprocated the same look she was given and Cheryl's face fell flat. "Why did I even bother with this?" asked Cheryl.

"I know deep down you're still willing to do this, you're just not used to people standing up to you and giving you a taste of your own medicine." Sydney turned off her camera and put it back in her bag before standing. "Same time tomorrow?"

Cheryl didn't say anything. Then, begrudgingly, she said, "Yeah."

"Perfect. I'll see you then." Sydney turned and left, leaving a discombobulated Cheryl behind. Discombobulated why? Because she's never met anyone that had the same fire within her.

______

"How'd the first day go?" asked Reggie as they got home. "Uh, it went well enough until it got just a wee bit hostile," answered Sydney.

"Hostile? How?"

"Uh, she assumed I lived under a rock and then I told her that I knew all about her daddy's little drug dungeon that was running behind their maple syrup company."

"Wow." Reggie's eyebrows rose up in surprise. "Yeah. And I'm surprised she agreed to go on with this. If it were someone else doing this, I'm sure she would've called them a bitch and walked off," Sydney said as she set her bag aside. "But for some odd reason, she didn't call me one."

"She has her nice days." Reggie laughed and Sydney laughed, as well. "I just hope I end up having enough footage and information to make a decent movie out of this. I really wanna win this year," she said. "And you will. Knowing you, you're gonna get it in weeks before the deadline," he reassured.

"Thanks, Reg."

"No problem, Syd."