Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

May 5th - Los Angeles, California

Sent: Monday, 6:45am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: URGENT - New Assignment

Good Morning Wednesday,

I have a new story I need you to work on. Blood Moon are an up-and-coming band from Los Angeles who are about to leave on tour to open for The Outcasts, and they are quickly amassing a large following. I need you to do an interview with them, and then attend their show the next night to do a write-up on it. They’ll be at their recording studio this Thursday and I’ve scheduled time for you to speak with them. Details are attached.

Best,
Larissa Weems
Editor-in-Chief

<NightshadeStudiosGuestPass.pdf>

Sent: Monday, 6:47am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: URGENT - New Assignment

As stated before, I do not wish to work on projects involving this genre of music. I would much rather spend my time writing about much more profound topics.

Worst,
Wednesday F. Addams

Sent: Monday, 6:50am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: URGENT - New Assignment

Wednesday,

And I’ve stated before, you are our best writer, which is why I am assigning you to such an important story. Take care of this for me and you will have your pick of articles for the next month.

Best,
Larissa Weems
Editor-in-Chief

Sent: Monday, 6:58am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: URGENT - New Assignment

Fine. Consider it done.

Wednesday F. Addams

May 8th - Los Angeles, California

Wednesday shows up to the music studio promptly at eleven in the morning, just as she had been scheduled to. She has a notebook and recorder tucked into her bag, along with a list of questions she’d put together over the week after doing her research on the band.

There are four of them. Bianca Barclay, the lead singer; Divina Fisher, the bass player and backup vocalist; Yoko Tanaka, the drummer; and Enid Sinclair, the guitarist who also sang from time to time. Enid and Yoko had been the original Blood Moon before Bianca and Divina joined a little under a year ago, and they’ve slowly started to make waves especially since one of their songs blew up on Tik Tok.

Besides that, Wednesday figured she’d prefer to learn more about them from the band themselves because everything else she finds isn’t very much in depth. But when Wednesday makes her way inside, she finds that there’s only one member there waiting for her.

She’s got colorful hair, an equally colorful hoodie that’s a bit too big on her shoulders, and her face lights up with a welcoming smile when she sees Wednesday.

“Hi, I’m Enid,” she greets, holding a hand out, but Wednesday just nods back at her instead, recognizing her from the photos as the member that seemed to stand out the most and have the biggest following on social media.

“Wednesday Addams,” she tells her grimly, “Where’s the rest of the band?”

Enid shrugs, not seeming too offended by Wednesday not shaking her hand. “Stuck in traffic. Bianca lives with Divina on the other side of town, and Yoko lives with me, but of course Yoko is over at Divina’s, so I pretty much have the place to myself-“

“I’m not here to discuss your living arrangements,” Wednesday retorts, and Enid stops, an offended yet embarrassed look on her face.

“Right. Yeah. Let me call them again.”

Enid steps to the corner of the room and Wednesday can hear her muttering on the phone, glancing back over her shoulder before hanging up.

“It’s bad out there. But you can talk to me for now, if you want,” Enid suggests, and Wednesday just stares back at her, annoyed.

“I need the whole band here.”

“Oh. Well, um, I guess we'll wait then.”

Enid sinks into a couch along the wall and pulls out her phone and starts typing furiously. Wednesday just stands still, alone in the center of the room, frustrated at her time being wasted. She figures she could wait a bit, she doesn’t have anything for a while and she’s come all the way out here anyways. She’d like to get this over with as soon as possible.

Enid looks up at her after a moment, and then taps the space on the couch next to her, signaling for Wednesday to come sit next to her.

“What? I don’t bite,” Enid pauses and gives her a smirk, “Hard.”

Wednesday feels her face go hot at the way Enid’s grinning at her. She hopes Enid doesn’t notice as she goes to sit on the far end of the couch, placing her bag on her lap as she waits quietly.

Enid’s busy texting away for the next few minutes, Wednesday glancing around the studio, waiting for the door to burst open with the rest of the band so she doesn’t have to be sitting here listening to Enid giggle at whatever’s she’s looking at. Not that the sound is annoying or anything, but Wednesday doesn’t like how it makes her stomach flutter.

Then Enid’s phone goes off and she sighs as dramatically as possible.

“Ugh. They’re not gonna make it,” she says, turning to frown at Wednesday. “I am so sorry.”

Enid’s eyes drift to the ground, looking genuinely upset in a way that makes Wednesday actually feel bad. And then Enid huffs and finally looks back up. “Do you wanna grab lunch instead? It’s on me for wasting your time.”

Wednesday stares back at her, trying to figure out if she wants to say yes. Her stomach is close to growling, and she could get some work done.

“I suppose that works. But I can’t stay long.”

“No worries,” Enid’s smile grows bigger, “There’s a place around the corner that’s perfect. C’mon.”

Enid jumps up and grabs her things, Wednesday following right behind her. Enid’s tapping away at her phone as they walk, asking if Wednesday could interview them during their soundcheck tomorrow instead. Wednesday doesn’t have anything planned, so she nods a yes back that makes Enid grin with relief as they reach the cafe.

“I come here a lot to write songs,” Enid explains, finding them a table near the window, “The truffle fries are great.”

Wednesday perks up as Enid brings out a notebook stuffed with paper.

“You write the songs?”

“Yeah, most of them are mine from before Bianca and Divina joined,” Enid grins proudly, “Bianca will help me go through and edit stuff, but yeah. I like to write.”

Wednesday blinks back at her, amusement slowly growing on her face. Something about Enid also being a writer has piqued her interest.

“What? Why do you look so surprised?” Enid laughs, and Wednesday straightens herself up.

“It didn’t come up when I was looking into the band.”

It’s not a lie, but Wednesday wonders if she hadn’t been thorough enough with her research. She makes a note in her head to go over more of their music and really pay attention to the lyrics.

“Oh. Well I guess you can write about that then,” Enid says, giving Wednesday a smirk before a waiter comes by to take their orders.

Eventually Enid slips on some ear phones and goes to scribble away in her notebook while Wednesday takes out her laptop to let Weems know they’ll be doing the interview tomorrow instead. She doesn’t seem to mind, as long as it gets done before they leave on tour next week.

Every few minutes, Enid will pause, tap her pen on her chin and stick her tongue out, and then cross something out. She’ll grab a few fries, and then notice Wednesday’s watching, and push the plate towards her, insisting she take some.

Wednesday just shakes her head and gets back to her own work, hating how easily Enid seems to distract her even when she’s not trying to get her to try the truffle fires. Eventually, she realizes she has another meeting to get to when Enid offers her the rest of her sandwich. Enid insists, and so Wednesday gives in. Enid grins, and then they go back to their writing until Wednesday’s phone alarm goes off and she explains she has another meeting to get to.

“Thank you for lunch,” Wednesday nods curtly, and Enid smiles back at her, almost as bright as the sun shining through the window.

“Sorry my bandmates didn’t show up,” Enid frowns as they clean up and head out, but she doesn’t look as bummed as she did earlier. All Wednesday does is shake her head back, telling her it’s fine.

Enid glances around awkwardly and realizes there’s nothing more to talk about. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow," she grins, heading back down the street, and Wednesday just watches as she disappears around the corner.

- - -

May 9th - Los Angeles, California

The Troubadour

Soundcheck is at five, and Wednesday is told she’s more than welcome to watch while she waits to conduct her interview. She arrives not long before they start, choosing to hang out towards the back of the room so as to not interrupt them. But of course, Enid spots her easily as she messes around with her guitar, giving Wednesday a happy wave from across the room.

After lunch, Wednesday let her curiosity get the best of her and she found herself listening to the rest of the band’s songs, thinking of Enid and her writing the whole time.

Her vocabulary wasn’t as extensive as Wednesday’s, but the lyrics were catchy, getting stuck in her head quickly with how easily they flowed. But at the same time, some of the words made Wednesday wonder what else was going on behind such a bubbly smile, thinking about how she seemed to be able to make Wednesday ponder about their meanings so much even if she never intended to. It makes Wednesday even more curious, not wanting to admit she should have just talked to Enid yesterday at the studio because maybe then all of the questions floating around in her head would have been answered.

The rest of the band fills in, so Wednesday takes a seat at the bar and preps her things while they begin to practice. Their music is loud and the type to give Wednesday a headache, but thankfully they’re not playing fully yet. Wednesday just steals an occasional glance at them, observing their dynamics for her article, trying to ignore how Enid seems to look up at the same time she does with a smirk on her face.

After a bit, the band seems content, and so Wednesday makes her way over, eager to get the interview over with because she’s starting to grow restless.

“Long time no see,” Enid greets, taking her guitar off and setting it on a stand. It’s bright pink, like the colors in Enid’s hair, adorned with all sorts of stickers and doodles. Wednesday thinks it’s fitting.

Enid introduces the rest of the band to Wednesday with that same sunny smile, and they head over to their green room. Wednesday takes note of how they sit, Enid slumped at the far end of the couch while Yoko and Divina are practically on each other’s laps. It’s obvious Bianca’s the lead by how she sits, confident and poised on the opposite end of the couch.

Bianca takes the lead when Wednesday starts asking questions. She explains how her and Divina were already friends, and when Divina met Yoko, Enid offered them spots in their band and thought Bianca could take over as lead singer.

They all seem to get along well, even if Yoko and Divina don’t talk as much as Bianca and Enid. Wednesday makes sure to bring up Enid’s songwriting, and they all gush over her, Enid trying to hide that she’s blushing. Wednesday thinks it’s more than deserved, wanting to talk about it more before she remembers she’s here for all of them.

Eventually, Wednesday figures she’s gotten enough material to write about and she thanks them for their time. Wednesday thinks she’ll head to a coffee shop down the street to get started until showtime when Enid stops her.

“Hey. Thanks again,” she says, a soft grin on her face, “I’m excited to see what you write.”

“It should be out before you go on tour,” Wednesday tells her, and Enid’s grin grows brighter for a moment before her lip twists in thought.

“There’s an after party tonight at the club across the street if you want to come,” Enid quickly explains, and Wednesday tilts her head. She wonders if it could be another addition to her article even if it’s something she’d usually avoid.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Cool,” Enid nods, looking hopeful, “Just say you’re with us. I’ll let them know to let you in.”

She gives Wednesday another quick smile before heading off, a skip in her step.

- - -

Wednesday hangs off to the side of the stage for the show, ear plugs in tight. She’s surprised at how many people pack in for the show, rowdy and drunk and excited for them.

Bianca’s voice is hypnotizing. Yoko hits the drums like they’ve done something to her personally. Divina’s got stage presence despite not being the center of attention. Yet Enid is the only one Wednesday focuses on.

She thinks about how the words they’re singing are hers. How quickly her fingers move as she plays. How she keeps up the energy with each song, whipping her colorful hair around and smiling so bright Wednesday might go blind.

And her voice. Even if it’s just in the background or for a few lines here and there, Wednesday finds herself drawn to the way Enid sings. Somehow, hearing it live has given her a new appreciation for Enid as an artist all over again.

It’s a weird feeling to find herself so intrigued by Enid, but then again Wednesday isn’t afraid to appreciate talent. After all, she’s surprised at how much she’s enjoyed the whole band and their show despite this being the type of music she would usually shut off instantly. As they wrap up their final song and thank the crowd, Wednesday decides she’ll stop by the after party to give them her thanks.

- - -

The club is crowded, just as Wednesday expected. Her name is on the list like Enid promised, but Wednesday can’t find her anywhere. She does spot Yoko with her arm wrapped around Divina, but when Wednesday asks them where Enid is, they shrug and say they saw her head in the opposite direction.

Still, there’s no sign of Enid, so Wednesday figures she’ll get her contact info from Weems at some point so she can tell her that she appreciated working with her. But as Wednesday stumbles out of the club, she notices someone sitting outside on the curb.

“Enid? What are you doing out here?” she asks, squinting down at Enid who’s gotten her knees pulled up to her chest. She looks caught-off guard when she sees Wednesday.

“Oh. Uh, just getting some fresh air,” she mutters, nodding her head back to the club, “It’s a bit loud in there.”

“You not liking loud music is very ironic.”

Enid laughs. “I know right?” She sighs and pushes herself up so her eyes meet Wednesday’s.

“I’m buzzed and I’m starving and there’s a taco truck down the street,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “You wanna grab something?”

Once again, Wednesday figures she could eat after being out all day. Especially when Enid’s smiling lazily back at her, face red from the alcohol. It’s not hard for her to say yes.

“I suppose I’ll join you.”

- - -

Wednesday pays this time, even if Enid insists that she not. Wednesday just says it’s for putting on such a good show, and so Enid just smirks back at her and gives in.

Enid wasn’t lying about being hungry, because she’s stuffing her face the moment they sit down.

“So, you like the show?” Enid asks as she drizzles salsa onto one of her tacos, “From what I could see you seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Wednesday just nods. “I can see why you all are so popular.”

Enid snickers. “Yeah. Finally.”

Wednesday can see that she’s relieved about it, and from what she remembers from their interview that all of them have been searching for their big break, especially Enid, who mentioned she’d been writing songs since she was a teenager and had hopes of becoming a household name. It reminds Wednesday that now is as good a time as ever to get to know her better.

“I meant to ask. How did you get into music in the first place?” Wednesday says, because the question has been on her mind since yesterday.

Enid smiles and finishes up the last of her food, dusting her hands off on a napkin with eagerness on her face.

“I was kind of a bad kid,” she starts to explain with a smirk, “Always got into fights and stuff. So my parents thought it would be good for me to have something else to focus on.”

She rolls her eyes, and Wednesday keeps listening.

“I played piano for a bit. But I got bored with that, so they let me get all my anger out on drums. Then my brother got into guitar and I wanted to copy him, so I learned that too.”

Wednesday’s leaning towards her with interest. “And that’s what stuck?”

“Not really,” Enid shakes her head, lips slowly frowning for a moment. “I like the drums the most. But when I met Yoko in college, she didn’t know how to play anything else. So I told her I’d be the singer and guitarist and she’d be the drummer and viola, Blood Moon was born.”

She waves her hand with a grin, but Wednesday can tell that she misses playing the drums. She thinks it’s interesting that Enid’s given that up the same way she gave up being the lead singer. It seems that Enid’s selfless when it comes to the band and their success, something Wednesday can’t help but admire even if Enid seems a bit disappointed about it.

Enid seems to notice Wednesday thinking. “Do you play any instruments?" she asks, the smell of alcohol on her breath.

“The cello,” Wednesday replies, thinking about how it’s been a while since she’s played it because she’s been so busy. Enid’s eyes grow wide with interest.

“Really?” Enid grins. “Well, if we ever need cello music, I’ll be sure to ask you,” she winks.

Wednesday wants to tell her she doesn’t know how that would work with their style of music, but she would be glad to anyways. But Enid’s phone is buzzing, and she goes to see what it is.

“It’s Yoko. I should head back,” Enid sighs, looking like she doesn’t want to go. She stands up and takes a breath. “See you around?”

Wednesday nods. “Good luck with your tour.”

“Thanks, Wednesday,” Enid says, voice sincere and eyes soft as her bangs float around her face. “I’ll make sure to give you a shoutout when we win our first Grammy.”

And then she’s gone again, Wednesday wondering if it’s the last time she’ll talk to Enid Sinclair before everyone knows her name.

Chapter Text

May 15th - San Diego, CA
CalCoast Credit Union Open Air Theater

@TheOutcasts: Kicking off tour in America’s Finest City! See you tonight San Diego!
@BloodMoonBand: Can’t wait!!!

Wednesday’s finger hovers over the Instagram post, careful not to like it. Agnes from their social team had given her the password for their company account to use for article research, but told her to be careful about interacting with anyone to avoid them looking biased in any sort of way. Wednesday hadn’t cared much until she saw just how many fans the band had, and how rabidly loyal they were, and figured she might as well be careful even if she was on their side before Weems gave her an earful. The band had posted about the article, and the feedback on socials was positive, and so Wednesday was satisfied with the result. It had been more fun to write than she expected, even if it wasn’t her usual topic, and she thinks that maybe she might not be so against writing about more musicians in the future.

She takes a sip of her coffee as she looks over the article up her computer screen.

The Blood Moon is Rising
by Wednesday Addams

It says, with a photo from the show on Friday at the top. Enid’s in the corner, hair flying as she jumps around with excitement. Weems had told her she had done a stellar job and it was getting a lot of clicks and the band’s management was more than thankful for it. Wednesday can see it now, the statistics pulled up on her other monitor, thinking about how deserved it is, that she feels a tiny sense of pride being able to help the band get the recognition she’s come to realize was overdue.

Wednesday’s about to get started on her next article when her email alert goes off. She figures it’s Weems bothering her again, so she ignores it for the time being, only going to open it a bit later when she starts to feel writer’s block creeping in.

Wednesday’s eyebrows raise when she sees it’s an email from Enid, cursing at herself for not checking sooner.

Sent: Thursday, 10:32am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Thank You :)

hi Wednesday!

I wanted to say that I absolutely LOVED your article on the band! we all did! you are SUCH a good writer. also thanks for talking about my songwriting too, that means a lot. hope you check out more of our music and hopefully we’ll see you back in los angeles in june for the last show of the tour!!! we’ll def get you in VIP haha

and if you want to come to our show in sd tonight, I can save you a ticket at will call! I know it’s a bit of a drive, but it’s not that far. you think i’m kidding, but i’d love to see you again :)

xo enid

Reading the email seems to make Wednesday’s cheeks grow hot, but she blames it on the summer sun streaming through the window. Or the coffee she’s drinking. Not on the fact that Enid had taken the time to personally thank her or mention that highlighting her songwriting was important to her or is serious about Wednesday driving down just so they could talk again.

Wednesday had just gotten past wondering about Enid, telling herself that once the article was published there was no need to spend time looking into her more. She’d keep their songs in rotation, but Enid and Blood Moon were going to be away for a month anyways and by then Wednesday would have moved on to other things.

But Wednesday's eyes drift down to the last paragraph of the email where Enid’s invited her to their show. She’s always thought San Diego was nice despite how sunny it was, its vibe much more laid-back than Los Angeles. Perhaps she could stay the night downtown and spend her Friday writing near the water, enjoying the slower pace for a moment before leaving in time to beat the traffic headed back north.

It doesn’t sound like that far-fetched of an idea, but Wednesday knows she needs to allocate her time elsewhere and Weems is already in her ear bothering her about her next article and she’d prefer not having to spend an absurd amount of money on gas. She just feels bad rejecting Enid, who sounds hopeful about seeing her again, making sure to emphasize that she’s serious.

She’s about to type up a reply when her phone rings and it's Weems, who talks to Wednesday for far too long about meetings and paparazzi and incompetent coworkers that Wednesday doesn’t remember to type up a reply to Enid until that evening when she finds herself opening Instagram again to see if there are any new posts about the tour. She reaches for her laptop and opens the email chain, the brightness from the screen burning her eyes.

Sent: Thursday, 11:11pm
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Tickets!

Enid,

I apologize for not being able to make it to San Diego tonight. Perhaps I will attend one of the shows back here in Los Angeles should my schedule allow.

As for the article, I do admit I enjoyed writing it and appreciate the positive feedback. Best of luck and safe travels on tour.

Morbidly,
Wednesday F. Addams

Wednesday hits send, wondering if Enid’s still up to read it or if she’s asleep on their tour bus to wherever they’re headed to next. She pulls up the band’s Instagram page again and sees they’re headed to Las Vegas tomorrow, a few hours drive away.

She understands if Enid’s too busy to respond, but she finds herself hoping she’ll wake up to something in the morning as she shuts her laptop.

Chapter Text

May 16th - Las Vegas, Nevada
The Chelsea at The Cosmopolitan

Wednesday doesn’t wake up to an email from Enid, but she knows it's no use to let it get to her. Enid’s probably fast asleep after their first night of tour and a drive to Las Vegas. Besides, Enid doesn’t seem like the emailing type anyways.

Instead, Wednesday goes on with her day, taking care of some chores and errands and just hopes Weems doesn’t bother her with some last-minute story when the weekend is so close. She just wants to spend some time focusing on her own writing for once, and not have to worry about deadlines or making sure she doesn’t come off too snarky.

Wednesday finds herself near the recording studio and decides to grab lunch at the cafe Enid had showed her, ordering those same truffle fries she had a week ago. She wonders how long Enid’s been coming here, how many songs she’s written between these very walls and if their paths had crossed before without either of them knowing it.

And of course, as if on cue, Wednesday’s email tone goes off, and she finds that Enid’s finally replied to her.

Sent: Friday, 1:32pm
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Viva Las Vegas

hi Wednesday,

no worries about san diego. i’ve done that drive a TON and I know it’s not fun at all. besides, I accidentally sang the wrong line during one of our songs and nobody needed to see that lol. but hey, it’s the first show, I’m just shaking off the rust.

anyways, look, we’re in paris!!! lol jk. we’ve made it to las vegas safely. have you ever been? anyways yoko and divina are joking about getting married here during the show just for funsies which would be so funny dontcha think?

anyways hope you’re doing well. i’m gonna post this pic to insta. wait do you have an insta? follow meeee!!! @enidsinclairrr

xo enid

<ouioui.jpg>

Attached is a photo of Enid and Yoko in front of the fake Eiffel Tower on the strip. Wednesday’s just surprised that Enid’s written her a whole email instead of just a simple reply. Yet, Wednesday doesn’t mind. Even if she prefers writing emails on her computer, she grabs a napkin and wipes off her hands and decides to type up Enid a response. She reads it over several times, making sure she’s responded to all of Enid’s questions, and then hits send.

Sent: Saturday, 1:40pm
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Viva Las Vegas

Hello Enid,

Yes, I have been to Las Vegas but am not allowed back after my uncle got us into trouble trying to scale the side of the Luxor hotel.

I also do not believe getting married in Sin City is the best idea. Then again, I do not waste my time thinking about that subject when I do not plan on being in a romantic relationship with anyone as I enjoy my solitude.

And I do not have an Instagram account, so unfortunately you will not be gaining another follower. Good thing you already have thousands.

Au revoir,
Wednesday F. Addams

Wednesday goes about the rest of her day followed around by the itch to constantly check her email inbox, but then again she doesn’t expect a reply. Besides, it’s not like she’s asked anything of Enid. It would be a good place for the both of them to end off, Wednesday going back to work and Enid focusing on her tour.

But as Wednesday settles into her study to start her hour of writing time, her phone dings, swearing she had shut it off. Of course, it’s another email from Enid that she doesn’t hesitate to open.

Sent: Saturday, 7:32pm
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Viva Las Vegas

hi Wednesday!

aww! well maybe one day you’ll meet the right person!!! I thought I did but we broke up and now look. i’m opening for his band on this tour lol. awkward, huh? we’re actually cool tho, i wouldn’t have agreed to this if we weren’t.

anyways we’re about to go on stage soon but if you want me to help you make an instagram just say the word!

xo enid

Wednesday stares at the email squinting to make sure she’s read it right. She hadn’t bothered to look up anything about the band Blood Moon was opening for because she didn’t really need to, but now here she is discovering Enid’s had a relationship with one of the members. Wednesday knows it's not her business, that this is something she normally wouldn’t care about, but it’s not like anyone’s going to know that she’s looking up something that hundreds of other people already have.

A quick search shows pictures and tweets and gossip columns about Enid with The Outcasts drummer, a guy named Ajax Petropolus. She clicks on one of the articles talking about their breakup dated from two years ago. It says people figured out when she wiped him from all of her socials and posted a song titled ‘Stoned’ on her Soundcloud. Other than that, it seems like they both weren’t popular enough for most people to follow it any further.

Wednesday does some more digging to find the song, and as she listens, she tries to figure out what happened.

Wanted to chase your high, but you left me feeling low
No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t know where to go
I think I’m over it, you’re just wasting my time
And you’re so damn stoned you don’t even see the signs

Wednesday doesn’t like how defeated Enid sounds, her voice hurt and disappointed. She listens again, the weak guitar notes such stark contrast to the music Wednesday had gotten used to seeing Enid play. She can feel her face morph into a scowl thinking about someone making Enid feel the way she comes off in the song.

She finds herself hitting play again, staring at the picture of Ajax on her computer screen, wondering how someone could be so foolish to ever treat Enid the way it seems he did.

Chapter Text

May 17th - Phoenix, Arizona
Arizona Financial Theater

Wednesday usually spends her weekends sleeping in like everyone else, because as much as she enjoys late nights, she also likes being well-rested.

Except today, her phone goes off way too early when she swore she set it to do not disturb the night before. But then she remembers that she had started leaving it on when waiting for Enid to reply, and she curses at herself for it. She never even kept it on for work, yet she has it on in case the girl she’s known for a week sends her something that she doesn’t need to be spending time responding to.

She thinks about going back to sleep and answering it later because it’s probably nothing important. But Wednesday finds it hard to sleep thinking about what Enid could possibly be sending her at such an ungodly hour, after a show nonetheless, so after an hour of tossing and turning in her bed, Wednesday begrudgingly reaches for her phone.

Sent: Saturday, 5:25am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Games

hi Wednesday,

mornin. sorry for an early email but i have a question. it’s a LONG drive to dallas after tonight and the wifi on our bus sucks. do you know any fun games I could download to pass the time? you seem like you like puzzles and all that smart stuff.

xo enid

Wednesday rolls her eyes because it’s nothing serious, yet somehow Enid’s felt the need to ask her about it instead of the dozens of people on tour with her. That and she’s started an entirely new email chain again, much to Wednesday’s annoyance. But Wednesday still finds herself typing up a reply anyways, trying her best while still half-asleep.

Sent: Saturday, 6:30am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Games

Good morning Enid,

I do not use my phone for much, only for communication with those I am close to and work purposes. I prefer to do puzzles with paper and pencil. I do also enjoy a crossword or some Sudoku if I have time to spare. I know there are dozens of applications to download for that.

Best of luck with your search,
Wednesday F. Addams

Her eyelids grow heavier with each word she types, so once Wednesday hits send she makes sure to shut off her notifications before settling back into bed. She wonders if Enid will reply right away or if she’s also gone back to sleep, but Wednesday’s asleep before she’s even tempted to check her phone again.

- - -

When Wednesday finally wakes up again, there’s a sliver of sunlight peeking into her room that’s hitting her in the face. It takes her a second to remember that it’s Saturday and she’s not late for work at all and the only thing she needs to do today is her laundry.

She takes a moment to fully gain consciousness, the memory of her emailing Enid hours ago slowly coming back to her, and so Wednesday reaches for her phone to see if she’s gotten a response. And just as she’s hoped, below a few spam emails is a reply from Enid about fifteen minutes ago.

Sent: Saturday, 9:37am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Games

yawn. I took your advice, tried to do a sudoku puzzle, and then passed out from thinking too hard. but i guess that helps cause i was exhausted anyways lol. what happens in vegas stays in vegas, ya know ;)

ps. what does the f in your name stand for???

xo enid

Wednesday’s glad her advice worked, but she’s not surprised. What does catch her attention though is the playful winky face at the end of Enid’s message, and now Wednesday’s wondering what Enid could have possibly meant by it. She remembers Enid mentioning being on tour with her ex, the ex that seemed to have broken her heart, and Wednesday feels her face grow hot thinking that Enid is possibly talking to him again, or even doing more.

But Wednesday reminds herself once again that it’s none of her business, and that she shouldn’t be so invested in the personal life of someone she hardly knows. She’s already let herself wondering about Enid’s replies take up too much space in her head and so she decides she’ll answer this last question and take her time when it comes to responding again, if she even decides to.

Wednesday keeps it simple, hoping that such a short response doesn’t come off as rude.

Sent: Saturday, 9:44am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Games

It’s Friday.

Also, your postscript note is supposed to go after you sign off.

Wednesday F. Addams

P.S. Like this.

Enid’s response comes almost instantly, Wednesday not even having time to put her phone down and try to ignore her.

Sent: Saturday, 9:45am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Games

unless I slept in waaaay longer than i thought, i’m pretty sure it’s saturday lol.

xo enid

ps the more you learn!

Wednesday rolls her eyes, knowing she can’t resist correcting her, but then her phone dings again while she’s writing up a response.

Sent: Saturday, 9:47am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Games

OH! you meant the F stands for friday! wait. no way your middle name is friday lol. sorry. that’s cool!

xo enid p sinclair

ps the p stands for phoebe :D

Wednesday hates how that silly little smiley face makes her want to smile too, and that feeling is enough to tell her that she needs to stop talking to Enid before she gets too ahead of herself.

Chapter Text

May 19th - Dallas, Texas
South Side Ballroom

Enid loves touring, but she hates being stuck on a tour bus.

It doesn’t help that there’s not much to look at but the endless desert outside of the window, feeling the summer heat on the glass when she holds the back of her hand up to see if it’s warm enough to hurt. Thankfully, the air conditioning on their cramped tour bus is holding up and she’s not covered in sweat as she scribbles away on the papers scrawled across the table in front of her.

Enid’s surprised that Wednesday’s still talking to her, but she’s not going to complain. It’s fun and a nice distraction from what’s already been a busy first few shows. She just hates talking by email because it’s such a hassle, especially when the wifi on their bus keeps going out when they’re driving through the stretches of nowhere.

Which is why Enid’s trying to figure out a creative way to give Wednesday her number. Just emailing it to her seems too easy, and Wednesday Addams doesn’t seem like she likes it easy.

When their manager had told them she scheduled an interview with one of the bigger magazines in the city, Enid was ecstatic, only to look up Wednesday Addams and immediately find that she didn’t seem to exist. Enid didn’t know what to expect that afternoon at the recording studio, growing even more nervous when she realized it would just be her meeting Wednesday because her band mates still didn’t grasp how bad LA traffic could get.

Yet, even if Wednesday looked like she belonged on a wanted poster, Enid was happy to find that she wasn’t as intimidating as she seemed. She was surprised she took up Enid’s offer for lunch, and even more surprised to see her so intrigued about her songwriting. It was always something Enid was a bit shy about, afraid people would find her lyrics boring or too simple.

Enid could have talked for hours about making music during their interview, but she remembered Wednesday was there for all of them, not just her. Enid loves her friends and their band and how they’re getting big in the way she’s always dreamed of, but sometimes Enid wonders what it would be like to be doing this on her own, to be the one with her face plastered everywhere and being the main act.

Enid shakes the thoughts out of her head and gets back to the piles of paper she’s gotten laid out. She wants it to be a challenge, but she doesn’t want to be waiting around forever for Wednesday to message. In the end, she just wants Wednesday to like it.

Yoko slides into the seat across from her, sipping on a Capri Sun with her sunglasses low on her nose.

“Writing some new songs?” she asks, glancing down at Enid’s notes, and Enid’s quickly pulling everything out of Yoko’s sight.

Yoko just laughs. “What then?”

“Nothing,” Enid mutters, face growing red with embarrassment.

“Sure.”

Enid clears her throat. “Nothing important,” she tells her, even though this is honestly the most important thing she has going on right now. Yoko just smirks back at her.

“Right.”

“Look, I just need to concentrate.”

Enid sighs, hoping Yoko gets the hint that she’s not going to tell her what she’s doing.

“Alright,” Yoko sighs, finishing up her Capri Sun and standing up to toss it in the trash. “By the way, we’re stopping in a bit. So I’ll just sneak a look then.”

Enid fakes a laugh as Yoko heads back to find Divina. She turns back to the mess of papers in front of her, trying to figure out a place to hide them even if she knows Yoko’s kidding, because the last thing she needs right now is to be teased about being into a girl she’s barely talked to.

- - -

Enid spends way too long perfecting her puzzle, and even longer trying to figure out how to get it scanned with the shoddy printer they have on the bus. After whacking it a few times, she gets it to work and gets it sent to her laptop. She repeats the process again when she tries to solve the puzzle herself, realizing there’s a typo, and then two more times until she’s certain she’s gotten it right. She can’t afford to mess this up and have Wednesday text the wrong number and have both of them looking like idiots.

Enid types up a quick message, but her finger hovers over the send button for far too long. Wednesday hadn’t replied to her last message about their middle names, and Enid wonders if maybe that’s a sign to stop talking to her, that this was just a fun little thing for a few days and now she’s gone back to her routine that does not involve writing back to Enid.

But Enid didn’t just spend hours making this silly puzzle for nothing, so she adds a post script note after her signature like she’s learned how to do and figures if she doesn’t hear anything back, she’ll take it as a sign to leave Wednesday alone.

Sent: Monday, 11:13am
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Puzzle for You

morning Wednesday,

I spent the long drive to dallas coming up with this puzzle just for you. hopefully you’re smart enough to solve it :p

xo enid p sinclair

ps - Don’t feel obligated at all to do this btw. I just thought you might find it fun, I totally understand if i’m bothering you and don’t feel like talking to me anymore.

<puzzleforwednesdayrevisedAGAINFINALLY.pdf>

Enid spends the rest of the day more anxious than she’s ever been. Even more anxious than the first time she’s ever sang in front of an audience, more anxious than the first time she released a song, more anxious than her first actual gig at a real venue with real fans and real paycheck.

She can tell Yoko knows something’s up, but Enid glares at her before she can get close enough to ask, and Enid just reassures her she’ll be fine for their show because she cannot afford to mess up, because even if it made for a fun Tik Tok the last time it happens, Enid’s always been taught to strive to be perfect.

Enid knows Wednesday has a job and probably has other things to do than to reply to her emails right away, but of course Enid has to think the worst about why she hasn’t responded yet. Maybe her puzzle was so easy that she doesn’t think Enid deserves her number. Maybe Enid did mess up and there were still typos and now she’s texting someone even cooler than Enid.

Or, the most realistic reason, the one Enid doesn’t want to believe, is that Wednesday just doesn’t care enough to talk to her anymore. Enid’s always had a habit of getting her hopes up for things that never end up happening, and it seems like whatever this was turning into wasn’t anything special either. She knows it’s silly to think that a couple of good conversations with Wednesday meant that she’d made a new friend.

So Enid hides away in the bathroom, doodling in her notebook and scribbling down random lyrics that come to mind because it’s the only thing that really helps with her when she’s nervous. She knows that they’re supposed to go on soon, and that she needs to get it together and she can put all of her fears and anger into playing her guitar so hard her fingers will burn.

Enid’s finishing up the first few lines of a song that will probably go nowhere when her phone buzzes in her pocket. She thinks it’s Yoko checking in on her, but Enid’s heart nearly jumps out of her chest when she sees it’s someone else.

Monday, May 19th 7:25pm
Unknown Number: I have to admit that this was a very clever way for you to give me your phone number.
Enid: took ya long enough!
Wednesday Addams: I was busy with my actual work.
Enid: sureee
Enid: but this is much better than emailing, am i right?
Wednesday Addams: Agreed.
Enid: i’m just surprised you texted me. didn’t think you would
Wednesday Addams: Why not? Did you not believe I’d solve this?
Enid: no, just thought you’d think it was a waste of your time
Enid: ur totally super smart lol
Enid: anyways, we’re about to go on stage soon
Enid: yee haw :D

Chapter Text

May 20th - Austin, Texas
Moody Amphitheater

Enid’s in a much better mood than she was a few days ago. 

Maybe it’s because they’re staying in a hotel tonight before leaving for Houston in the morning which means sleeping in a real bed. Maybe it’s because Austin has some of the most delicious breakfast tacos she’s ever had. Maybe it’s because after a few shows, she’s finally in sync with everyone else and starting to have the fun she usually has when she’s playing.

Or, maybe it’s because her puzzle plan worked, and now she has Wednesday Addams’ number, which is honestly still a surprise to her.

But now that Enid has Wednesday’s number, she isn’t sure what to do with it. She knows that Wednesday giving it to her means she’s okay with her texting her, but Enid doesn’t want to annoy her too much. She thinks that maybe she’ll send her a picture of the frappucino in front of her and ask her what her coffee order is, but Enid remembers her ordering a quad over ice at the cafe. Then she wonders if she should ask if maybe she’d want a souvenir from tour, maybe a magnet for her fridge, but then Enid shakes her head at herself because no, Wednesday wouldn’t want a fridge magnet, she’d probably want a pen because she’s a writer.

Enid eyes the hotel gift shop from the cafe table she’s sitting in, notebook open to a page that’s mostly blank save for several crossed out lyrics that just weren’t clicking. As nice as her hotel room was, it wasn’t the best place for inspiration, so Enid decided on a change of scenery that still had air conditioning.

She keeps glancing at her phone, wondering if Wednesday might text her, but all she’s getting are notifications for her story about her breakfast tacos and new followers. She’s been gaining followers steadily after their first few shows, with a ton coming after Wednesday’s article was published. Enid’s loving it, but it’s also a bit scary thinking about how even more people are tuning into her every move, that anything she does from here on out will be judged no matter what.

Enid finishes the last sip of her frappucino when she feels someone hovering next to her table.

“Hey Enid,” a husky voice says, and Enid takes off her headphones to see Bruno, the guitarist from The Outcasts, smiling down at her.

“Bruno. Hi,” she mumbles shyly, putting a smile on back for him, “How’s it going?”

He shrugs, nodding towards the hotel doors. “I was just headed out on a run.”

“In this heat?”

“Yeah. Why, something wrong with that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and Enid bites her lip.

“Oh, no. Just uh, stay hydrated. You still have a show to play tonight.”

“True. I’ll be careful.”

He gives her a wink and pops in his earbuds and heads out, Enid watching him take off down the street. She lets out a breath that had been stuck in her throat and sinks back into her seat.

After the show in Las Vegas, everyone had gone out for a quick round of drinks before leaving for Phoenix. Enid had told herself she was just going to have a shirley temple, but then Bruno had bought her a drink and then another and they were so close to making out before Bianca found her and told her it was time to leave.

Thankfully everyone else was too drunk to notice, especially Ajax. And Enid knows better to do it again because as handsome as Bruno is, she’s not going to fool around with anyone on tour, especially someone who is her ex-boyfriend’s bandmate. It would just get too messy and Enid’s already got enough on her plate with their label breathing down her neck waiting to hear what they’re working on next.

Enid just sits and stares back across at the gift shop again as cello music starts to play over the cafe speakers. Her eyes drift back to her phone, whose screen is lit up with notifications, but none of them are from Wednesday.

However, there is a text from Yoko asking when she wants to get ice cream from a local place they had been talking about, and Enid figures it would be a good distraction from the mess of thoughts in her head, so she tells her now is a good a time as ever.

- - -

Wednesday figures she should text Enid back because she doesn’t want her to think she’s ignoring her after she put in such an effort to give her her number, which was something Wednesday couldn’t help but admire. But she doesn’t exactly know what to say, because she’s never really been in a situation like this, being pen pals with someone who will surely become famous in the next year and forget all about her.

That and she doesn’t exactly know what to talk about with Enid. She realizes that she doesn’t even know Enid beyond her music and how she got her and where she hopes to go with it.

The thing is, Wednesday does want to know more about her. She wants to know what makes Enid tick, what makes her write the things she writes, what she likes and dislikes and does in her spare time because Enid is simply put, an interesting person. Wednesday knows there’s a reason why she has the most followers in the band.

Wednesday realizes it’s so unlike her to be spending so much time wondering about someone like this and thinks she should take a step back because she feels almost obsessive. But again, she is a journalist, and it’s in her nature to want to know more, especially if she ends up covering the band again. That and Agnes is always telling her to try and make another friend besides her, even if Wednesday’s thought of her more as an asset than an acquaintance.

So Wednesday tells herself that after this next interview she’ll send Enid a text asking about how the tour is going and see if that leads to anything, and if not, she’ll just let Enid text her when she wants.

Except, it seems like Enid wants to text her back right this minute.

Tuesday 1:22pm
Enid: wednesday did you know austin has a bunch of bats that live under the bridge???
Enid: yoko told me about it and i feel like you’d like it
Enid: hold on, let me facetime you so you can see!

FaceTime Ringing
FaceTime Declined

Wednesday Addams: I cannot answer right now. I am about to do an interview with Hayley Williams.
Enid: wait WHAT
Enid: like HAYLEY WILLIAMS OF PARAMORE???
Enid: WEDNESDAY FRIDAY ADDAMS ANSWER ME PLEASE
Enid: SHE WAS MY FIRST GIRL CRUSH
Enid: ASK IF WE CAN OPEN FOR HER

Chapter Text

May 21st - Houston, Texas
Bayou Music Center

Enid’s exhausted. Between a sold-out show that left her adrenaline levels sky-high and thinking about Wednesday hanging out with one of her biggest musical inspirations, she couldn’t sleep in the hotel or on the bus ride to Houston. So now, she’s chugging some coffee while lounging on a couch in their green room, hoping that it’ll be enough to get her through tonight and she can just sleep on the long drive to New Orleans.

She stares at the calendar hanging on the wall. Enid honestly doesn’t even know what day it is at this point or how long they’ve been touring, but it does feel like forever already. She glances at her phone. Of course it’s a Wednesday.

It’s barely been a week since they’ve been on the road, and bit longer than that since she met Wednesday. Yet Enid’s found herself feeling like they’ve known each other longer with how easy it feels to talk to her. But Enid wonders if that’s just because she’s talking to Wednesday through a screen, and if they had gotten to talk to one another in person any longer than they did, they wouldn’t get along at all.

Enid doesn’t like to think about that though, because there’s a part of her hoping that when she’s back in LA, she can see Wednesday again. She knows she could use more friends who aren’t in the music scene, which is probably why it's been so refreshing to talk to Wednesday, even if it’s for a few texts at a time. Of course, it’s been a while, and Enid’s wondering about her more than she should.

So she tosses her now empty cup of coffee into the trash and closes Tik Tok and sees that she still has dozens of messages still sitting unread.

Yoko: omg look at this dog me and divina met a breakfast
Bianca: Soundcheck is pushed back to 5:30
Ajax: alright, i’ll swing by at 1?
Mom: Not a fan of your outfit at last night’s show.
Bruno: I know it’s hot, but do you wanna join me on my run today?

None of them are from the one person she wants to talk to though. Enid thinks that it won’t hurt to send Wednesday another text, and the caffeine is coursing through her veins, so she feels a bit bold when she types something up.

Enid: hey you nerd. don’t think i forgot about hayley
Wednesday: You’re calling me the nerd, yet you put together a whole puzzle to give me your phone number.
Enid: okay, okay, fair haha

Enid breathes a sigh of relief, Wednesday not seeming offended and also replying quick enough to show that she didn’t think too hard about the text. She watches the screen, waiting for those three dots to pop up so she can see what Wednesday’s going to say next, but they don’t come.

Now, Enid’s trying to reread the text in a more angry manner, wondering if maybe Wednesday was actually annoyed at her, and now she’s just messed everything up.

But instead, her phone starts to ring, and Wednesday’s name is flashing on the screen. Enid’s afraid to answer it, because a call seems serious, and she’s scared she’s going to get an earful on texting etiquette.

Enid swipes at the screen and puts her phone on speaker, and braces for impact.

“Wednesday?” she mumbles, wincing just a bit, “Did you mean to call or is this a butt dial?”

“I hate that term.” Wednesday’s voice is as monotone as ever, but she doesn’t sound mad at Enid specifically, so all Enid can do is let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, is it an accident or am I lucky enough to be graced by your voice instead of a text message?”

“I’m about to get into my car, so I thought it would be easier to talk over the phone.”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally,” Enid huffs, sinking into the couch, “Way more safe.”

Enid hears a slam of a car door and an engine startup, thinking about how Wednesday could be enjoying her drive on her own yet she’s chosen to call her. Enid takes it as a win.

“So. If I’m not mistaken, you should be in Houston right now,” Wednesday says, and Enid nods, surprised she knows. Then again it’s not like their tour schedule is private information. Still, Enid finds herself smiling at the fact that she’s taken the time to look it up.

“Yup,” she replies, now staring up at the paint peeling from the ceiling above her, “I’m hiding from the heat in our green room.”

“I can’t blame you,” Wednesday says, ignoring someone honking in the distance, “I much prefer the cold.”

“Yet you live in California.”

“It’s where work brought me. Besides, the heat in California is more tolerable than in Texas.”

Enid nods in agreement even if Wednesday can’t see her. Now, she’s fiddling with a piece of string sticking out from the hem of her shorts, twirling it around between her fingers.

“You know, I never asked you where you were from,” Enid says, afraid that it’s somehow still too personal of a question.

“New Jersey.”

“Oh wow. That’s cool,” Enid replies, because it wasn’t what she would have guessed. “I’m from San Francisco.”

“I know.”

“Right,” Enid laughs at herself, “You interviewed me. Of course you knew that.”

The air conditioning is working great, but Enid’s cheeks are growing hot with embarrassment, feeling like Wednesday’s regretting this and is going to hang up on her any second now.

Enid clears her throat and sits up, the grip on her phone tight. “Speaking of interviews, you need to tell me about Hayley Williams.”

“It went well,” Wednesday answers after a moment, “She’s always great to work with.”

“You’ve talked to her more than once?” Enid exclaims, voice almost rising to shout. “I am beyond jealous. Like I said, first girl crush ever. Still my number one crush actually.”

Wednesday’s quiet, and of course Enid’s already jumping to negative conclusions even if she knows she’s probably concentrating on driving. Finally, Wednesday speaks up. “Then I’d hope one day you do get to open for her like you mentioned.”

“Me too,” Enid grins, “Except the goal is to be a headliner some day.”

For a second, Enid lets herself daydream, thinking about being in a green room that isn’t the size of a shoebox, filled with all of her favorite snacks and a massage chair and a giant tv so she can play video games all day until showtime.

And then she remembers Wednesday’s still on the other line. “But if she asked, I’d say yes to opening in a heartbeat no matter how big we are.”

“As long as you don’t forget you had promised to shout me out in your Grammy speech,” Wednesday says, and Enid finds herself smiling harder than ever at the fact that Wednesday even remembered her saying that.

“Oh duh,” Enid scoffs playfully, “I don’t think I could forget you.”

Wednesday doesn’t respond again, and Enid suddenly feels like it was a weird thing to say to someone she’s known for less than a month. She’s about to explain to Wednesday that it’s because of her article when someone is knocking on the door.

“Enid, you in there?” a voice calls from outside, and Enid jumps off of the couch in a hurry when she realizes she’s lost track of time.

“One sec Ajax!” she calls, and glances at her phone, seeing that Wednesday’s still on the line.

“Sorry. Forgot I had lunch plans,” she quickly explains, “Drive safe!”

The call hangs up a split second before Enid can hit the red button. She’s staring at her own reflection on the blank screen, but she doesn’t have time to overthink anything because Ajax is knocking on her door again.

Chapter Text

May 23rd - New Orleans, Louisiana
The Fillmore New Orleans

Wednesday hasn’t been this busy in a while. Weems is out of town for the week and so she’s put in charge and is constantly bouncing between meetings that could have been emails and answering emails that could have been instant messages and making decisions way above her pay grade. She’s just hoping that Weems will be kind enough to give her some kind of promotion when she comes back and see that she’s managed to keep the place afloat without her.

Wednesday’s squeezing in lunch at her desk when her phone buzzes. She ignores it, trying to finish her food because if she stops she might not get another chance. But her eyes catch Enid’s name before the screen fades, so she stuffs one more bite of salad into her mouth and opens it.

It’s a photo of a voodoo doll, dressed in all black with buttons for eyes. Wednesday does a quick search to see where they are now, and sees that they’ve made it to New Orleans.

Thursday 2:23pm
Enid: this kinda looks like you
Wednesday: It does not.
Enid: but the braids!
Enid: it’s so cute. i’m posting it on my story
Enid: ugh if you had insta i could tag you in it!
Wednesday: I told you I do not need to waste my time swimming through the cesspool that is social media.
Enid: i’ll convince you someday 😉

She scoffs, knowing that it’s probably not a real voodoo doll, just a crudely made souvenir. But she doesn’t have the time to correct Enid because Agnes is hovering at her door and reminding her that they have another meeting to get to, so she stuffs her phone into her pocket and heads out.

- - -

By the time Wednesday finally gets home, she’s beyond exhausted. She hadn’t had time to reply to Enid all day, but she figures they’re probably headed out to their next stop when she remembers Enid is two time zones ahead of her now and she might not be awake to see it. That and she's probably been busy with Ajax, at least that's what Wednesday's mind jumps to. She knows Enid probably isn't doing anything serious with him, but then again she remembers she doesn't actually know Enid's history with him in the way she thinks. It's really none of her business.

Still, Wednesday makes sure she hasn’t missed any new messages from Enid and finds herself staring at the picture of the voodoo doll again, its beady little eyes almost taunting her. Enid’s message about making an Instagram account linger on the screen.

Wednesday’s been adamant about staying off of social media because there’s no need for her to get sucked into it all and rot her brain with everything on there. She has better ways to spend her time, like working on her novel that she hasn't had a chance to touch all week.

Yet, Wednesday finds herself wondering if it wouldn’t hurt just to make an account to see what the band is up to. That’s all. Just in case she has to write about them again. It could be useful for work research.

Thursday 8:24pm
Wednesday: I require your assistance.
Agnes: At this hour?
Agnes: With what, exactly?
Wednesday: Creating an Instagram account.
Agnes: Really?
Wednesday: Yes.
Agnes: What made you want an Instagram account?
Wednesday: That’s not important. You should be glad I won’t be needing to lurk on the work account any longer.
Agnes: True. Give me one sec

Agnes calls Wednesday seconds later and walks her through the steps of making an account, which is simpler than she thought. She makes sure not to use her real name, picking something else and adding a couple of numbers because it keeps telling her all the usernames she’s trying are taken.

There is so much going and so much being shoved in her face that she doesn’t know where to go. Eventually she types in Blood Moon to the search bar and finds the band’s account and clicks on the most recent photo, a picture of the venue from earlier today.

@BloodMoonBand: gonna have a gumbo-liveable time tonight, hello NOLA!
@enidsinclairrr: fun caption who came up with that?
@retrieveire: @enidsinclairrr i have a feeling i know
@brunoY: @enidsinclairrr good one ;)
@phantasmagorc: @brunoY why is there a man here
@outcast_kent: i love gumbo

There are tons more comments, and as Wednesday scrolls through their profile, she can see the number of likes growing in real time, and she’s impressed, and even a tiny bit proud.

Then, she finds the post about her article. It’s definitely blown up even more since she last saw it, and she’s curious to see if there are any new comments.

@sarielaltrya: i’ve been here since day ONE!!!
@tenderentropy: so cool to see y’all finally get recognized!
@alasthegirl: so glad i discovered y’all
@barclaybabes: love this band sm!!!
@ajaxP: @enidsinclairrr so proud of you :)
@enjax4ever: @ajaxP omg enjax interaction my heart

The name Ajax is more than familiar, Wednesday clenching her jaw when she sees it. Instead, she finally clicks on Enid’s profile, which is just as colorful as her.

And just like Enid mentioned, the picture of that voodoo doll that does not look like Wednesday is on her story. Wednesday rolls her eyes and taps through the rest of her story. A few more pictures of the city, one of the stage during soundcheck with a link for tickets, a video of one of The Outcasts songs, and one last post of the crowd saying thank you that was posted about an hour ago.

She’s in too deep now, so she decides to look at her posts, which there are way too many of.

The picture of her and Yoko in Las Vegas. Thousands of likes.

A picture of her at a hockey game, face painted as she cheers with a group of guys who look just like her. Thousands of likes.

A picture of her in a studio, mug in hand with a grin on her face. Thousands of likes.

And with each picture there are hundreds of comments, all of them from fans who absolutely adore Enid.

@esinclaires: enid i’m free thursday
@willablurr: MY SHAYLA!!!
@spidxrbutch: love this hairstyle on u omg
@shippablehelen: love you enid!!! <3
@spillurguts42536: enid SINCLAIR 💜
@littlemonster420: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping
@scrawnypercy: cannot wait for new music!!!
@enidnumber1fan: i’m enid’s number 1 fan

There’s a smile tugging at the edge of Wednesday’s lips that she’s fighting off. At least now she knows that it’s not just her that’s fascinated by Enid, and that she can just be another admirer. Somehow, it makes her feel less awkward about it all, except she’s probably one of the few people in these comments who can actually tell Enid these things herself.

Wednesday takes a breath and decides that with all of the followers Enid seems to be getting each day, she won’t notice her hitting the follow button too.

- - -

Enid’s doing one last social media sweep before settling down in her bunk on the bus. Her story of the voodoo doll is getting a ton of likes, which makes her grin to herself. She had bought it because she hoped that maybe when she got back to California, she could give it to Wednesday as a joke. For now, it’ll live on her microphone stand, and hopefully it won’t actually give Wednesday a headache from being around such loud music every night.

@larissa.weems is now following you
@sp4m_musub1 is now following you
@jennajoseph is now following you
@ophelia_1191312 is now following you
@toastyshroom is now following you
@rickstankey is now following you
@not_AgnesD is now following you
@billie_eyelash is now following you
@sammymewyy is now following you
@jjettas2 is now following you
@outcast_fanpage is now following you
@alexmorgan13 is now following you
@rei.ami is now following you
@clubchalamet is now following you
@enidsinclairupdates is now following you
@viperd12345 is now following you

Enid’s follower count grows more and more each day, and it’s hard for her to keep track of it all, a mix of celebrities and regular people and fan pages and bots. Yet, none of them seem to be Wednesday.

Still, Enid’s grinning from ear to ear, taking the time to click on each one even if her eyelids are growing heavy. It’s when she gets to the latest one, a recently made blank account that her eyebrows shoot up to her forehead.

@viperd12345 is in your contacts under Wednesday Addams. Follow Back?

Chapter Text

May 25th - Orlando, Florida
Hard Rock Live

Wednesday doesn’t touch her phone all Saturday.

She had stayed up way too late on Instagram after following Enid, not just going through her posts, but everything else on there, falling so deep into a rabbit hole that she woke up with her phone in her hand, battery about to die while a video of a dog played on loop.

This was the exact reason why she vowed to stay off of social media. Because it was a black hole, full of angry people and silly videos and hours of content that would suck her in and turn her brain to mush in a way she would not enjoy.

So instead, Wednesday leaves her phone at home while she goes out for a walk and to the bookstore and to run errands. She doesn’t touch it while she cooks lunch and cleans up her office and plays some songs on her cello. It stays in her bedside drawer in the evening through her writing time, and by then she knows better than to look at it before bed or she’ll just be on it all night again.

Of course, Wednesday knows Enid has probably texted her, and the thought of not responding makes Wednesday feel bad, especially when their schedule shows they didn’t have a show today. But Wednesday also knows she told herself she wasn’t going to get too carried away with talking to Enid, and yet the girl has gotten her to download a social media app within a week. Wednesday knows there’s nothing wrong with taking some time to reply to her.

So Wednesday stays off of her phone when she wakes up on Sunday too. She makes herself some coffee and some breakfast and settles down to write, because she finally has the time to and she feels like it’s been forever since she’s made any progress.

Except she finds it hard to concentrate. Maybe it’s because it’s annoyingly sunny out. Or maybe because the people in the apartment above hers are being noisy. Or maybe, it’s because she knows that there are unread messages on her phone from a certain person waiting for a response.

After deleting another paragraph that wasn’t working, Wednesday gives in. She grabs her phone and unlocks it and sees that among a couple of meaningless notifications, Enid’s texted her.

Saturday 10:45am
Enid: hey nerd
Enid: or should i say viper
Enid: this u?

<screenshot attached>

Wednesday’s eyes go wide. It’s a photo of the Instagram account she’s just made. Now, she’s embarrassed, wondering how Enid could have figured it out. She wonders if maybe she can convince Enid that she’s mistaken.

Sunday 9:14am
Wednesday: No. That is not me.
Enid: ur a terrible liar
Enid: ur insta is linked to ur number
Enid: got you!

Wednesday sighs. Curse technology for betraying her when she had just decided to try and give it a chance.

She glances down at her phone, waiting to see if Enid will say anything else. She figures it would just be easier to call her if Enid wants to talk so she can try to get back to writing. If they’re in Florida, it’s a bit past noon, so Wednesday gives her a ring, and Enid picks up right away.

“Oh hello Viper,” she greets cheekily, and Wednesday’s already regretting it.

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“Wait, wait!” Enid exclaims, “Was the username Wednesday underscore Addams really taken?”

Wednesday sighs. “If I’m going to engage in exploring the abyss of social media, I’d prefer to remain anonymous while doing so.”

“That’s totes fair,” Enid says, “But why viper?”

Wednesday hesitates for a moment. She hopes Enid doesn’t judge her, but she doesn’t seem like the type. She doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with telling her when she’s the reason why she made the account in the first place.

“It’s the name of the main character in my novel,” Wednesday explains, and Enid’s tone on the other line sounds excited.

“You’re writing a novel?”

Now she sounds genuinely interested, and Wednesday feels her shoulders relax. “That’s why I chose to call you back. It’s much easier to speak over the phone while working.”

“That’s so cool!” Enid says, and Wednesday can imagine her smile from behind the screen. “Can I ask what it’s about?”

Wednesday thinks it’s only fair to tell her now, especially when Enid’s shared her songwriting with her. They’re both writers, she doesn’t know why she’s so uneasy when she’s always been so prideful about her words. So many people read her articles, but this is different. This is a personal project she's been working on since she was a teenager, and now Enid's the only other person besides her publisher who she's opening up to about it.

“Viper is a detective. She’s trying to catch a serial killer who has been carving out their victim’s eyes and she’s trying to understand the significance.”

“Yuck,” Enid groans, but Wednesday’s amused. “Not exactly my cup of tea. But if it’s as good as your journalism, I’d definitely read it.”

“It won’t be finished for a while. I’ve been unfathomably busy lately.”

“Oh,” Enid says, growing quieter, “Well, let me stop distracting you then.”

“I wouldn’t have called you if I thought you’d be a distraction,” Wednesday quickly assures her. Now she’s thinking about how she really did start this conversation when she didn’t have to at all. She takes her fingers off of her keyboard with a huff.

“Right,” Enid replies, breaking Wednesday out of her thoughts, “But, we are going to Disneyworld in a bit, so I can’t talk for long.” She sounds a bit bummed for a moment before her voice jumps back up. “Wait, have you ever been?”

“Once,” Wednesday replies, remembering the time her uncle found a way to sneak her and her brother into the park. “And then I broke into hives. Probably because it was too colorful.”

“Ah,” Enid giggles, “I was gonna say we could go when I get back, but maybe not.” Wednesday finds herself locked onto the sound of Enid’s laugh, remembering seeing a photo on Enid’s profile of her in front of the castle in Anaheim before she realizes they’re both quiet. She quickly clears her throat.

“Anyways. How has your own writing been going?”

“Alright,” Enid replies, and Wednesday can imagine her frowning, “Our label is on my ass because we’re blowing up and they want us to have new stuff to release after this.” Enid sighs, Wednesday being able to feel the tiredness in her voice. “What do you do when you have writer’s block?”

Wednesday thinks for a moment, because she does a lot of different things. Then she remembers her trip to the bookstore yesterday.

“On occasion, I like to read,” she tells Enid, “Other styles and viewpoints usually help me figure out my own voice. It might help you to look at some books instead of your phone all day.”

“You’re not wrong,” Enid snickers, “And it would be a good way to pass the time. Got any recs?”

“I could send you some.”

“I’d love that,” Enid says, voice soft and sincere, and now Wednesday’s rolling her eyes at herself, realizing she’s given herself another thing to worry about when she has a novel to finish.

Wednesday’s about to tell Enid that she needs to get back to writing when she hears another person talking.

“Enid,” someone calls, their voice deep, “You ready?”

“Gotta go,” Enid says quickly, “I’ll send you pics. Or, wait, you can watch my stories.”

Enid’s laughing again, and once again Wednesday finds her face growing hot.

“Bye Viper,” Enid teases, “I mean Wednesday.”

The call shuts off, and Wednesday’s staring at her blank word document, feeling more stuck than ever.

- - -

That night, Wednesday does indeed watch Enid’s story. There are few pics of the park and the rides before it switches over to a photo of her guitar, covered in stickers, and one last video of her watching The Outcasts perform from the side of the stage.

And then, there’s her newest post of her at Disneyworld with a lightsaber, pretending to fight against a guy who Wednesday doesn’t recognize. Her eyes flick down to the comments for clues.

@enidsinclairrr: may the force be with you!
@b_yuson: @enidsinclairrr and you 😎
@willablurr: @b_yuson it’s ‘and also with you’ get it right smh
@outcast_updates: y’all are so cute omg
@miss_mellark: soft launch ???
@Loko4Yoko: hope ajax doesn’t see this lol
@bl00dm00nfan: @Loko4Yoko they broke up ages ago relax
@beeboy.76: is this her bf?
@ezrathegay: @beeboy.76 no she’s single
@beeboy.76: @ezrathegay so ur saying i still have a chance

Enid always seems to get a lot of comments about her relationships, which Wednesday thinks must be exhausting. When she taps on the photo of her again, a name pops up, which leads Wednesday to the profile of the guitarist from The Outcasts.

His name is Bruno. His profile is pretty empty for someone in such a big band, with only a few posts compared to Enid’s hundreds. It doesn’t take long for Wednesday to learn he’s newer to the band, and is quite popular in the Philippines, where he’s from. He limits the comments on his posts, which Wednesday wonders about, but not for too long because it’s something she would do too.

Wednesday knows she doesn’t need to be getting caught up in the drama and speculation like everyone else. Instead, she shuts off her phone and tries not to think too hard about why it all seems to linger on her mind for so long, Enid’s laugh still echoing in her head.

Chapter Text

May 26th - Miami, Florida
The Fillmore Miami Beach

Enid’s never been to Miami.

Last year when Blood Moon went on tour, their route didn’t go this far down. And it’s not like Enid’s really felt the need to go to Florida anyways, only coming here a few times as a kid to meet relatives she never knew existed.

But walking along the beach is nice. The sun is shining bright and the breeze coming off of the water is enough to keep her cool from the humidity. She hasn’t been to the beach in forever, because she’s been busy and getting to the beach in Los Angeles is a chore and it’s just too crowded. At least right now the area where she’s at isn’t busy, it being a Monday morning and all, so Enid’s able to find a table to sit at and eat her acai bowl in peace.

Enid pulls out her notebook because she should really be working on some songs and this seems like the perfect place to write. She remembers Wednesday’s advice to try reading, but she hasn’t really had the chance to find a book, so she tells herself to try and keep an eye out for a bookstore on the way back to her hotel.

She checks her phone to see if Wednesday’s texted her since their conversation yesterday, but there’s nothing. It’s still early on the West Coast, so Enid figures she’s probably asleep. Still, she thinks she’ll send her a picture to wake up to, hoping Wednesday will like it.

Enid takes a picture of her table and makes sure to get the ocean in the background, bright and blue and glimmering, and hits send. It’s a nice photo, perfect for her story, but she thinks she’ll let Wednesday have this one.

Monday 9:54am
Enid: hope this doesn’t wake you up!
Enid: isn’t it crazy i can send you a pic of the opposite end of the continent in seconds?
Wednesday: It is quite impressive.
Enid: oh, you’re up!
Enid: sorry
Wednesday: No need to apologize. I’ve been awake for a while now.
Enid: oh, good haha
Wednesday: You’re in Miami, correct?
Enid: yeah. it’s not that bad
Enid: have you ever been?
Wednesday: Yes. I have family there.
Enid: really? you should tell them to come to our show tonight :D
Enid: jk. but not really. i can get them tickets
Wednesday: I’ll be sure to pass the message along.

Enid’s grinning at her screen, imagining Wednesday here with her, looking out of place among the colors, probably hiding from the sun so she doesn’t turn to ash. She blames the warmth of her cheeks on the humidity, and then decides that she should finish her food and try to write.

As Enid scribbles down random lyrics, she listens to the waves crash on the shore and the seagulls squawking above her. She watches a group of kids in pink soccer jerseys kick a ball around in the sand. She feels wind ruffling her hair, cool on her skin. Something about it is so peaceful, such a nice change of pace from the business of their tour, and so Enid makes sure to really savor it because she knows that if they keep getting more and more popular, she won’t get many of these moments anymore.

Enid’s trying to figure out what to rhyme with the word email when she hears someone coming up on the path next to her.

“Enid!” Bruno calls, and she looks up to see him jogging towards her. He’s got a lazy smile on his face as he pulls his earbuds out and wipes the sweat off of his forehead.

“Hey Bruno,” Enid greets, grinning back at him, holding up a hand to shade her face from the sun.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, nodding down at her open notebook. Enid just shrugs.

“Just writing some songs and enjoying the weather.”

He nods back at her, glancing around the beach. Enid wonders if he's going to ask about her songs, but he doesn't seem interested, at least right now. “It is nice out isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Enid’s still smiling awkwardly up at Bruno. He’s covered in a layer of sweat and he’s catching his breath, and while Enid does think he’s nice to look at, she doesn’t get why she can’t exactly find anything to talk to him about. The old her would be head over heels for a guy being interested in her like this, handsome and a guitar player just like her, but honestly, Enid just wants to get back to her writing right now.

“So, me and the guys are gonna go out tonight after the show if you wanna come,” he finally says with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, realizing Enid isn’t going to say something.

Enid draws out a breath, eyes darting around everywhere but back at him. “I don’t know.”

She remembers what happened in Vegas, and she knows that’s what he’s thinking about too.

“C’mon,” Bruno says, a smirk painted on his face, “We don’t have to leave until tomorrow morning. And I think the rest of your band is coming too.”

Enid hadn’t heard anyone else say anything going out tonight, at least not yet, and she hates the thought of being the only one to not go. She knows she can be responsible tonight.

“Okay,” Enid sighs playfully, “But I don’t wanna be out too long.”

“Nah, me neither,” Bruno grins, and he’s slipping his earbuds back in, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

He winks at her as he jogs off, but Enid doesn’t feel anything as she watches him go even if she tries hard to.

- - -

Wednesday doesn’t talk to Enid for the rest of the day after their conversation in the morning. She had been asleep when her phone went off, just minutes before her alarm, but she didn’t want to make Enid feel bad.

She does check Instagram throughout the day, seeing Enid post a story of a palm tree and then the venue with a link to tickets. Her cousins in Miami hadn’t responded, but she hopes that they’ll show up anyways.

Wednesday scrolls down to the band’s latest post and gives it a like as she reads the comments.

@BloodMoonBand: Let’s get Messi tonight, Miami!
@YokoT: not my goat
@diviiinaaa: @YokoT breaking up with you for that opinion
@bianca_barclay: It’s gonna be a good one
@pitbull: dale!
@GoDolphins123: so excited!!!
@enidnumber1fan: i’m enid’s number 1 fan

There are dozens more, but Wednesday doesn’t need to be reading all of them. All she knows is that with each show, there will just be more, and the idea that so many more people are going to discover them and become fans makes Wednesday proud.

She thinks of all those people listening to Enid’s lyrics and wonders how her songs are coming along. She feels nosey thinking about what Enid could be writing about next, wanting to know what’s on her mind, wondering if it would be rude to ask. She knows that one of these days, she’s going to sit down and go through every one of Enid’s songs, not just from now but from that same era she had written about Ajax, and really try to pick them apart.

But for now, she’s headed to bed, figuring Enid’s done the same since she hasn’t texted and she knows that by looking at the time, tonight’s show is already finished.

Wednesday’s just about to fall asleep when her phone is buzzing on her nightstand and illuminating her room. She doesn’t know who would be trying to reach her at this hour, but since it’s such a rare occurrence, she knows she might as well see who it is.

Incoming FaceTime
Enid Sinclair

Of course, it’s the one person who would probably be brave enough to randomly FaceTime her. Wednesday swipes up and is greeted by pitch black and the noise of footsteps.

“Enid?” Wednesday asks, squinting at her screen. Everything’s blurry, but she can make out a flash of Enid’s colorful hair.

“Weds,” Enid says lazily, “Hi.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Wednesday asks, confused, wondering where Enid is, and not even phased by the new nickname she's been given. “What time is it there?”

“I dunno. Late.”

Wednesday can hear Enid slurring her words. “Are you drunk?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Enid snickers, but Wednesday’s not amused.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. Yes I am,” Enid repeats again, and her camera shows her smiling before panning towards the street, lively and full with people.

“That seems quite dangerous,” Wednesday scolds, and Enid’s scoffing at her.

“Which is exactly why I called you, silly,” she stumbles over her words, “I’m trying to get back to the hotel and I don’t wanna be alone.”

Wednesday wonders why she’s the one Enid’s chosen for this, thinking that maybe she dialed her by mistake, but either way she just wants to make sure she gets back safe.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah. It’s just straight down the road,” Enid mumbles, camera aimed at the street but not steady at all. “But it’s kinda sus out here.”

“Sus?”

“Suspicious,” Enid explains, “Like this guy staring at me right now.”

Enid flips the camera around to a man leaning up against a light pole who’s watching Enid while he smokes a cigarette.

“What are you looking at weirdo?” Enid shouts, and Wednesday’s quickly scolding her again.

“Enid. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“I do know how to fight though,” Enid slurs, and now she’s holding the camera way too close to her face, “See this scar? It’s from a hockey fight that I won.”

“That’s fascinating,” Wednesday says even if she can’t see anything, because it is to her, but that’s something they can discuss later. “However, let's focus on getting back to your hotel.”

“Right. Yeah. It’s just up here.”

“Good.”

Enid’s camera stays locked on the hotel up ahead, blurry and unsteady but growing closer until Enid stops at a street vendor.

“Oh. Wait. Look at these postcards,” she says excitedly, but it’s too dark to see what she’s talking about. “I should send you one-“

“Enid.”

“Sorry. I’m here. In the lobby. Going to the elevator.”

Wednesday can see her hit one of the buttons and then the phone is pointed at the floor.

“I won’t hang up until you’re in your room,” Wednesday tells her sternly. Enid giggles.

“Aww. You’re so sweet.”

Enid’s voice is soft and playful and raspy from the alcohol, and Wednesday finds herself without a reply. She just listens to the ding of the elevator and waits for Enid to get to her room, listening to her fumble around trying to find her key card.

“Stupid card,” she mutters under her breath. She finally gets in after a few tries. “There we go.”

Enid collapses on the bed, her phone now showing Wednesday the ceiling.

“Ahh,” she says with a relieved sight, “Safe and sound.”

Even if Enid’s content, Wednesday knows her job isn’t done yet. “Now, you do have water?”

“Yeah,” Enid mumbles, holding one up in front of the camera, “Got a bottle right here.”

“Good. I want you to drink the whole thing. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Enid doesn’t respond, but Wednesday can hear her breathing, shallow and slow.

“I should just pull an all-nighter,” Enid says after a moment, “Since I have to get up in a few hours anyways.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes. “That would be a terrible idea.”

“I do it all the time. I like to sneak up to Griffith Observatory and stay until sunrise whenever I have too much on my mind.”

Enid’s voice has grown quieter, words dragged out and gravely, like she’s thinking about it too hard. Wednesday has to snap herself out of doing the same when she remembers that it’s late for the both of them and Enid needs to get to sleep.

“While that sounds fun, you can do that later,” Wednesday tells her, “Right now I need you to drink that water and get some rest.”

“Ugh. Fine,” Enid groans, and Wednesday can hear her unscrew the cap and start to drink. She pauses every few seconds, and after a few minutes, she holds up an empty water bottle for Wednesday to see.

“Here. Happy?” she says, and Wednesday’s glad she’s listened.

“Ecstatic. Now get some rest. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

Enid doesn’t say anything, she just shuts off her lights, but the call stays on. Wednesday wonders if she should hang up, if that’s what Enid’s waiting for, until she hears Enid speak up.

“Hey Weds?” she mumbles, so quiet Wednesday almost doesn’t hear her.

“Yes?”

“Thanks,” Enid huffs, one single word sounding so heavy with the way she says it. “And sorry for bothering you.”

Now, Enid sounds disappointed. Wednesday doesn’t like it, how small she sounds, like it’s not the first time that she’s felt the need to apologize.

“You’re not bothering me Enid,” Wednesday tells her, and she hopes Enid knows she means it, that she shouldn’t feel guilty about it at all.

“Okay. Good.” Wednesday can hear Enid take a deep breath, like she’s letting the words sink into her, trying to believe them. “Just promise to tell me if I ever am, alright?”

“I will,” Wednesday assures her. She realizes she’d gladly stay up for as long as Enid needed her to, and the thought of her caring so much makes her stomach churn.

“Okay,” Enid whispers, but her voice still doesn’t sound confident. She takes a couple more breaths, Wednesday wondering if she should say something or if Enid’s going to fall asleep right here. After what feels like ages, Enid speaks up again. “I’m sleepy. Goodnight.”

Enid hangs up before Wednesday can say it back, and even though it’s now past midnight, Wednesday’s more awake than ever.

Chapter Text

May 28th - Atlanta, Georgia
Coca-Cola Roxy

Normally, going a whole day without talking to Enid wouldn’t cause Wednesday any concern. Even though they've been in communication for almost two weeks now, they’re both busy people who are currently on opposite sides of the country so it’s not something she found herself getting too worked up about.

But after the previous night, Wednesday finds herself concerned, checking her phone the minute she wakes up to see if Enid’s sent her anything. She grows uneasy when there isn’t anything new, so she sends Enid a text to check in on her, hoping that it doesn’t come off as urgent as it needs to be.

Tuesday 6:45am
Wednesday: Good morning Enid. It should be almost 10am in your time zone. Make sure to drink water.

There’s no response right away, and Wednesday knows she shouldn’t panic. They should hopefully be on their way to Atlanta by now, and if anything, Enid’s spending the drive asleep.

Wednesday takes a moment before getting out of bed, still staring at the screen, telling herself that it’s perfectly normal to check on someone like this after they’ve had a long night out and make sure they’re okay. She’s not being overactive about it at all.

She’s just still thinking about how Enid went from being stubborn to sounding so uncertain, the worry in her voice something Wednesday wasn’t used to. And she found that she didn’t like hearing it at all, that Enid hanging up so abruptly made it seem like something was wrong.

Wednesday tries to think if maybe she’s said something she shouldn’t have, but her phone buzzing helps break her out of her thoughts.

Tuesday 7:13am
Enid: for sure
Enid: i just threw up in the bus bathroom
Wednesday: How wonderful. Keep hydrating.
Enid: yes ma’am

Wednesday finds herself letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Enid’s alive and well and on her way to Atlanta and the only problem now is the hangover that she’s dealing with, which should hopefully go away soon or Wednesday will probably never hear the end of it.

Wednesday gets ready for work without any anxiety, and she doesn’t get another text until later that morning.

Tuesday 9:47am
Enid: i am never drinking again
Enid: i am so unwell rn
Wednesday: Have you eaten?
Enid: i had some toast and crackers
Enid: and then i threw that up
Wednesday: Continue to rest and continue to drink liquids.
Enid: aye aye captain

Wednesday cracks the tiniest of smiles at the comment, not noticing Agnes lurking in her doorway wondering what she could be looking at. By the time Enid texts again, she’s just finishing up her lunch.

Tuesday 1:01pm
Enid: we’re almost to atlanta thank goodness
Wednesday: How much longer to do you have?
Enid: like an hour i think?
Enid: i have no concept of time i’ve been knocked out
Enid: and hydrating of course
Wednesday: Good. Let me know when you arrive.

Wednesday knows that with Atlanta’s traffic, it will probably be longer than that, but luckily she’s out to work the rest of her day from home in case Enid decides to call.

Tuesday 3:24pm
Enid: made it!
Enid: this hotel is sooo nice look

<photo attached>

Wednesday: Glad to hear it. It does look quite lavish.
Enid: i also just chugged a bottle of water are you proud of me
Wednesday: Consider me elated.

Enid doesn’t text back, probably getting settled, but Wednesday keeps her phone open next to her as she finishes up an email.

Tuesday 4:15pm
Enid: i just had the most delicious wings for dinner
Wednesday: So I presume you are no longer hungover?
Enid: mostly, yeah
Enid: but i am about to sleep for like, 10 years
Enid: thanks for joining me on this journey haha
Wednesday: Goodnight Enid.
Enid: goodnight! i appreciate u :)

The smiley faces always seem to get Wednesday, and this time she finally lets herself smile back at it, not caring if anyone sees.

- - -

Enid had only meant to have one drink that night. One drink at the bar next to the hotel and she’d head back to her room to read the book she had gotten from the gift shop until she fell asleep.

But Bruno insisted on buying her another, and Ajax had left by then along with her own band, and so Enid thought why not have a few more. Especially when she was starting to feel a good enough buzz to where she could talk to Bruno without feeling awkward at all.

He looked good in the varsity jacket he had on, which she teased him about wearing in the Miami heat. She liked his laugh, she liked how he finally seemed interested in everything she was saying, she liked how he would smile at all of the jokes she made even if they didn’t land.

Yet, she still felt something was wrong about this, even after several drinks. She just blamed it on the fact that this was her ex’s bandmate, and she’d talk to Ajax about it if it grew anything more.

Then they went to another bar, where Enid slipped away to go to the bathroom and check her phone and saw that Wednesday had liked her Instagram post.

And that got Enid to realize how drunk she was and that it was late and she needed to go back to the hotel. She found Bruno and Kent and told them she was leaving, and Bruno tried to get her to stay while Kent offered to walk her back, but she left while they both started to argue and decided to call Wednesday instead.

She doesn’t know why Wednesday was the first person she thought to call. Maybe it was because she was afraid of being scolded by her bandmates. Not that her drunk self wanted to hear Wednesday’s voice because for some reason, she thought it would calm her down.

Enid doesn’t remember much from that call, just that the alcohol had gotten to her brain and made her think that Wednesday was annoyed by her to the point that she hung up even if she wasn’t tired because she was afraid to make things too weird between them.

That and she needed to buy a postcard for Wednesday, which is exactly what she’s staring at right now at her hotel desk. She’ll get the address of the newspaper from her manager later and send it on their way out to the show tonight, if she can even think of what to write.

But just like her songs, Enid can’t think of what to write. Not when she’s still feeling bad about the other night, knowing she needs to apologize for being so messy. She checks the time, seeing that it’s noon back in LA, and tries Wednesday hoping she might pick up.

After a few rings, Wednesday answers.

“Hello?” she asks, and Enid tries to hear what’s going on in the background, afraid that she’s bothering her again.

“Hey,” Enid mutters, “Are you busy?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Enid assures her, trying to laugh off how quickly Wednesday’s voice grows concerned, “Just uh, wanted to apologize.”

“For what exactly?”

“Calling you when I was drunk,” she huffs, “That was embarrassing."

“It’s fine,” Wednesday tells her, and her tone drops to something softer. “I was just glad that you got back to your hotel safely.”

“Yeah,” Enid agrees, feeling the relief wash over her, “Thanks for sticking with me.”

Enid finds herself finally smiling, pulling her knees up onto her chair.

“So I assume you won’t be going out tonight then?” Wednesday asks, and Enid’s shaking her head.

“Nah. We head out to Nashville right after the show.”

“Nashville,” Wednesday repeats, sounding intrigued. Like every other tour stop, Enid wonders if Wednesday’s been there too. “That should be exciting.”

“Oh yeah. It’s such a cool city. Lots of music history.”

“Indeed. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“Yeah. Just not too much I hope.” Enid lets out a weak laugh, feeling a phantom headache that reminds her to be better, especially in a city known for a whole street filled with bars.

Enid doesn’t want to think of that right now, and Wednesday hasn’t made a move to say she needs to go, so Enid figures she’s still good to keep talking.

“Speaking of music,” she clears her throat.” I haven’t had a chance to read any new books but I do have some riffs I came up with. Wanna hear them?”

There’s a moment before Wednesday responds, but to Enid it feels like eons.

“I would love to,” Wednesday says, and Enid feels a rush hearing those words, not just a yes or sure, but I’d love to. Suddenly, Enid feels like she’s in over her head.

“Okay. One sec,” she stutters, jumping off of her chair and almost falling over in the process. “Switch to FaceTime while I grab my guitar.”

Of course, Wednesday doesn’t know how to do that, so Enid props her phone up on her desk and is greeted by Wednesday staring at her phone, head titled.

“Hi,” Enid greets, and Wednesday squints back at her, looking confused. Enid tries to hold back a laugh, instead trying to get a better look at Wednesday because it feels like a rare sight.

“Hello,” she says, fixing her posture and giving Enid a nod to show that she’s listening.

“Okay,” Enid says, taking a breath, and then she begins to play, pretending it’s just her, late at night on her balcony while the cars on the street honk below.

She gets lost in the chords, closing her eyes and humming out the sounds of what she hopes to turn into lyrics. Playing comes so easy to her that she goes on for longer than she meant to because she can feel the song forming in her head in real time.

When Enid stops, Wednesday’s camera is blank, and she’s about to panic when Wednesday speaks up.

“I enjoyed that,” she says, and Enid doesn’t see the smile on her face, “I’m eager to see where it goes.”

Enid’s buzzing now, grin bright as the sun.

“Me too. It would be so cool to play a new song on tour,” she says, already starting to dream of it, “If I can come up with the rest of it of course.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Wednesday says, her voice daring, “You’re talented enough.”

Somehow, those few words light Enid up like fireworks on New Year’s Eve, because she’s always been hiding behind a veil of self-doubt. Yet hearing Wednesday tell her that makes her know she’ll find the motivation to finish a song on tour.

“Unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend,” Wednesday’s voice crackles through the screen, and Enid remembers she’s probably at work right now. It’s interesting to think that Wednesday’s paused her busy day to listen to her play, and Enid can feel something start to burn in her chest. “I hope your show goes well tonight.”

“Thanks,” Enid says, her smile nervous, hoping Wednesday can’t see how flustered and red her face is. "Now you'll have to play your cello for me sometime."

"I suppose I do," Wednesday says, a playful hint to her tone before she hangs up. Enid’s still staring at the screen, trying to fight off how she can feel herself starting to fall, knowing it’s too late to grab a parachute.

Chapter Text

May 29th - Nashville, Tennessee
Ryman Auditorium

Atlanta was a lot of fun. Something about the night felt electric, and Enid found it hard to fall asleep that night on the quick drive up to Nashville. She felt like she was on fire playing so hard her fingers hurt.

She checks on her latest post from the night is doing on Instagram when she gets back to the bus after going out to explore Nashville, having spent a bit too much on souvenirs.

@enidsinclairrr: All The Love ATL!!! 🩷🤘🏻 
@YokoT: i see what you did there
@ajaxP: rock on 🤘🏻
@b_yuson: 🎸🎸🎸
@Mavi95R: is that a voodoo doll on your mic stand 👀
@HaguruBoi: @Mavi95R it’s so cute!!!
@willablurr: @Mavi95R looks like the one from her story in new orleans ???
@esinclaires: i wish i was that voodoo doll
@barclaybabes: you played your heart out tonight queen
@enidsinclairupdates: what’s the voodoo doll’s name?
@enidfansbrazil: come to brazil!!!

Enid laughs to herself seeing that people having finally noticed the voodoo doll. As she scrolls, there are too many likes to sift through to try and find Wednesday. Enid knows that even if she has an account now, she’s probably not going to be on it much.

Besides, Enid’s trying not to think about Wednesday and how last night had left her blushing hard all because of a few simple words. Enid’s always been one to love compliments, as selfish as it seemed, but it’s not her fault she grew up never being told she was good enough.

Besides, Wednesday had told Enid she’d never be in a relationship and Enid knows it’s ridiculous to fall for someone though a phone screen. Not that that’s where her mind is right now or anything.

Of course, just as she’s going to put her phone down and try to nap, she gets a notification.

@Viperd12345 liked your post

Enid’s face morphs into a smile in an instant, and that same feeling from last night is back no matter how hard she tries to ignore it. Enid thinks it’s the universe’s way of telling her they’re supposed to talk to one another.

She checks the time and sees that it’s just past noon back in California, so she tries her luck because it worked yesterday.

After a few rings, Wednesday answers, and Enid can feel the universe laughing at her.

“Hello?”

“I see you lurking on my post,” Enid teases, sinking into the couch on the tour bus.

“I liked it,” Wednesday replies, “Is that not what I’m supposed to do?”

“I mean, if you want to.”

“Well, I did want to.”

Enid bites her lip, once again flustered by something so trivial. This phone call is starting to feel like a bad idea.

“How is Nashville?” Wednesday asks, cutting through the silence, “Have you had a chance to explore?”

Enid’s eyes flick to the door of the bus, hoping nobody walks in on her. “We just walked down Broadway,” she explains, remembering she needs to post the pictures to her story, “Tried on some fun boots. And Ajax got a cowboy hat that he’s going to wear on stage tonight.”

Wednesday’s quiet for a moment. When she speaks again, she sounds a lot colder.

“I’m surprised you still associate with him after your break up.”

“That was years ago,” Enid rolls her eyes, surprised Wednesday knows about that. Then again, she’s a journalist, she must have seen it when doing her research. As much as it sucked, Enid’s moved past it. “We’ve both grown since then.”

“But it seems like it didn’t end well.”

“How do you know that?” Enid asks, sitting up to lean on the table now, feeling the heat grown behind her ears.

“I listened to the song you wrote about him.”

“Oh,” is all Enid can say for a moment, “I forgot that’s still out there.”

Enid had deleted it off of her own accounts because she had grown tired of what it reminded her of, especially now that her and Ajax were on good terms, but of course the fans had it saved. It’s just a reminder about how her whole life is under a microscope now, that every move she makes will have people talking.

“It’s a great song,” Wednesday tells her, and her voice has grown softer again, “But the lyrics. It didn’t sound like a healthy relationship at all.”

Enid swallows hard. It was fun at first. She had met Ajax when she was looking for a drummer to play with her at her gigs, and it was only a matter of time before they got close and started dating.

“Well, yeah,” Enid mumbles, not even noticing her breathing has gotten heavier, “We were both young and stupid and trying to make it in the music industry. We’d go to parties every weekend and I’d get wasted and he’d be doing god knows what drugs until I snapped out of it and realized it wasn’t good for me.”

“Are you sure he’s the best person to be hanging out with right now?” Wednesday says, and Enid feels like she sounds almost angry.

“He’s gotten his life together,” she retorts, because she knows Ajax is a much better person than he was before and she’s proud of him for it. “I wouldn’t be hanging out with him if he was still like that.”

Still, Wednesday doesn’t sound convinced. “Yet you called me the other night inebriated and left to find your own way back home.”

“He wasn’t even there,” Enid says, growing even more defensive, “That was all my fault.”

She takes a moment to catch her breath, thinking about how easy it was to let herself get to that point and how much it scares her, that she should be better than that.

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Wednesday says quietly, and it tugs a bit too hard at Enid’s heartstrings. Here she is, supposed to be having fun on tour, yet she’s falling, both back into her old habits and for a girl whose face she can’t even picture clearly because she’s hardly seen it.

(That’s a lie. Enid could never forget a face like Wednesday’s.)

“I appreciate it,” Enid says a bit too harshly, taking her anger for herself out on Wednesday. “But you don’t need to be worrying about me, okay? I’ll be fine.”

She’s saying it more to herself than Wednesday though, and the thought makes Enid clench her jaw so tight it hurts. Enid’s saved by someone turning the handle of the bus door before she can hear what Wednesday’s going to scold her about next.

“I need to go,” Enid quickly mutters, “Bye.”

Enid quickly puts a smile on her face before Divina and Yoko can walk in, and it’s like nothing ever happened.

- - -

Enid really wishes she was playing drums tonight. She needs something to take her frustration out on and playing the guitar doesn’t help as much as she’d like.

She feels bad for snapping at Wednesday, but Wednesday was getting too pushy and making her think of things she didn’t want to think about and Enid didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

All Enid wants to do is go to sleep and wake up in another state in the morning and hopefully it’ll have blown over by then. But as she’s headed towards the bus after a nice, long hot shower, she sees Bianca talking to their tour manager, and neither of them look happy.

“Something’s wrong with the bus,” Bianca explains, and Enid frowns. “Might be bit before we can leave.”

“Good thing this happened here instead of on the road,” Enid says, and Bianca just sighs in agreement. She heads off to go tell Yoko and Divina, so Enid leaves her things near the bus and pulls out her phone.

Thursday 10:55pm
Enid: hey
Wednesday: Hello.
Enid: so our bus is acting up
Enid: which means we’re probably gonna be in nash for like, a couple more hours
Wednesday: What seems to be the problem?
Enid: i dunno. hope they can fix it soon tho, i’m exhausted
Wednesday: I’m working on my novel if you’d like to call.

Enid’s fingers hover over her keyboard. She does want to call, to apologize and make sure Wednesday isn’t mad at her. She wonders if Wednesday is mad at her, but then she remembers how concerned Wednesday had sounded saying she was just trying to lookout for her, and now Enid’s head feels foggier than a San Francisco morning.

“Enid,” someone calls, breaking her out of her tailspin, and Enid sees Bruno, also freshly showered, waving back at her from the doorway.

“Hey,” Enid greets, and she feels like this conversation is heading in a direction Enid shouldn’t follow.

“Looks like it’ll be a minute and the bar inside is still open,” he glances back over his shoulder, “You wanna grab a drink?”

“Uh, I don’t know if I should after Miami,” Enid laughs nervously. He takes a step towards her, and it’s annoying how charming his smile is.

“Just one drink,” he says playfully, “Promise this time.”

Enid should say no. But it’s not like there’s anything else to do and she honestly could use the distraction right now, promising herself that she won’t get carried away this time, that a nice little buzz will be just what she needs to stop her thoughts from overflowing from her head.

“Alright. Just one.”

Except, once again, just one turns into three, and Enid finds herself in the bathroom with Bruno and her nails digging into his hair as his lips are on her neck.

It doesn’t go any farther than that though because soon the bus is fixed, and Enid’s secretly more relieved than upset. And it wasn’t just because she’s crossed her own boundaries, but because at some point, she had started to imagine Bruno as someone else.

Enid goes straight to her bunk on the bus, not even bothering to look at her phone before she falls asleep, knowing she’s going to have a headache in the morning and it won’t just be from the alcohol.

Friday 11:07pm
Wednesday: I’m assuming the bus has been fixed?
Wednesday: Safe travels to Charlotte.
Wednesday: Also, I’d like to apologize for overstepping earlier. I’m sorry.

Chapter Text

May 30th - Charlotte, North Carolina
The Fillmore Charlotte

Once again, Wednesday lets social media pull her in by the neck and drag her into its depths.

Enid’s lack of a response so late after hearing about the bus breaking down had definitely raised some alarms. Wednesday had presumed that maybe the bus had gotten fixed at that moment and they were in a hurry to get on the road, Enid passing out from how tired she said she was. It’s what she chose to believe so she could finally fall asleep.

In the morning, there still isn’t anything from Enid, and Wednesday tries to keep a straight face as she heads off to work, shutting her phone in her glovebox on the way over so she doesn’t look at it. 

There are dozens of reasons as to why Enid hasn’t responded, but of course Wednesday’s mind has to jump to the worst. Perhaps the bus exploded while it was being repaired. Perhaps they left Enid behind. Perhaps Enid just decided she wanted to stop talking to her because she had pushed her boundaries. Out of everything, that scenario is the one she hates the most.

She feels guilty and knows she should apologize, that she shouldn't be afraid to reach out to Enid again to check on her. But she's also afraid Enid might grow even more annoyed with her, and Wednesday certainly doesn't want to do that either. Wednesday feels like she's stuck in purgatory, which is a reminder of why she never gets close to anyone like she already has with Enid.

As she settles down at her desk, Wednesday’s phone goes off, but it’s not her text notification. It’s the ding from Instagram telling her about a new post. She had figured out how to get alerts from the band page the other night, which she had spent way too much time debating before finally accepting to do so.

Wednesday braces for the worst, waiting to see that their tour is canceled because they’ve all been incinerated.

But no, it’s just a normal post about their show from Nashville the night before.

@BloodMoonBand: had a good time playing music in music city!!!
@kallux16: love the cowboy hat enid!!!
@enjax4ever: enid and ajax with matching hats omg
@brunid4ever: @enjax4ever and how do you know that
@enjax4ever: @brunid4ever he literally posted a pic wearing the same one
@brunid4ever: @enjax4ever yet when was the last time they posted a pic together???
@dix6nsvoid: thank you for signing my vinyl 🩷
@Loko4Yoko: my girlsss <333

Wednesday squints at the screen. She wonders who makes the posts for the band, thinking it was possibly Enid by how the captions matched her own. Wednesday thinks that if she has time to post this now, maybe she'll be getting a text soon.

But what she gets instead is Agnes hovering at her office doorway with a smirk on her face.

“What are you looking at?” she asks playfully, and Wednesday gives her a glare before going back to her phone.

“None of your business, Agnes.”

She takes a step inside. “You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot lately.”

Wednesday’s too preoccupied trying to find updates in the comments to tell Agnes to leave.

“Does this have anything to do with the Instagram profile I helped you make?” she asks, trying to peek over her shoulder now. Wednesday leans away and slams her phone face down on her desk.

“No.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Agnes chimes, raising her eyebrows. “I see you all over Blood Moon’s posts.”

Wednesday’s eyes go wide. That’s another point to technology in a race Wednesday is shamefully losing.

“What? I’ve become a fan too,” Agnes explains, “Their fandom is very active.”

“I’ve seen the Instagram comments,” Wednesday huffs, “It’s a cesspool that I’d rather not drown in.”

Of course, Wednesday has drowned in it already, but she still isn’t deep enough to have left any comments of her own. She doesn’t want to have the time nor energy to argue with imbeciles on the internet.

“Well, wait until you see Twitter,” Agnes says cheekily before leaving, and Wednesday leans back into her chair.

Of course Wednesday didn’t have a Twitter account, but she knows news on there spreads much faster than Instagram. She thinks there might be a better chance of finding updates on there, so she makes an account too, under a different name this time, swearing she’ll logout once she’s done.

Agnes was right. Twitter is much more chaotic, with so many posts about so many things related to the band that it’s hard for Wednesday to find what she’s looking for.

@cheesehead12: oomf works at the venue in nashville and saw the guitarist from blood moon and the outcasts making out
@sarielaltrya: @cheesehead12 enid and bruno?
@cheesehead12: @sarielaltrya lmao idk their names
@retrieveire: @cheesehead12 you know their bands but don’t know their names 🤨
@1999skol: @cheesehead12 just spreading rumors like be serious
@hannahthemontana: @cheesehead12 at least put a checkmark to get paid for your engagement farming

Wednesday could care less about dating rumors, that’s not what she wants to see, the thought of Enid and Bruno making out making bile rise into her throat. She scrolls down to a cropped picture of Enid singing from the night before, a cowboy hat on her head.

@iluvjoelmiller: what’s that on her neck 🤨
@niconiners99: @iluvjoelmiller looks like a hickey 🫣
@enids_guitar: @iluvjoelmiller sorry that was me guys
@fortnite420: @iluvjoelmiller someone is kissing enid and it’s not me ???

For someone who hardly gets uncomfortable, Wednesday is repulsed thinking about people analyzing her love life like they are with Enid. She keeps scrolling.

@esinclairs: no way enid is with a MAN once AGAIN
@phantasmagorc: @esinclairs that is a girl kisser like look at her
@brunoysgirly: @esinclairs well then explain her being seen at the bar with bruno

Again, just more speculation about Enid’s relationships. After last night, Wednesday doesn’t want to think about any of it. Enid had been firm about her and Ajax, but now it looks like she’s moved on, and she could care less about the theories because they all seem like people projecting.

Wednesday knows she’s just going to get more bothered reading about all of it. So she finally closes the window and gets back to work. Except that doesn’t last for long, because now her phone is buzzing.

She thinks it’s a notification from Twitter that she forgot to mute. Wednesday ignores it, but then it buzzes again seconds later.

Friday 11:11am
Enid: hey
Enid: sorry i didn’t respond last night

Wednesday pauses for a moment, waiting to see if Enid has a reason why, but then she remembers that Enid doesn’t exactly owe her one. Still, Wednesday thinks this might be her chance for an apology.

Friday 11:13am
Wednesday: Well, did you make it to Charlotte?
Enid: about that
Enid: the bus broke down forreal this time
Wednesday: Is everything alright?
Enid: i think its easier if i ft you

Once again, Wednesday’s trying to figure out what the abbreviation means, but then her phone is telling her Enid’s requesting a video call. She glances at the door of her office, getting up to shut it before answering.

Wednesday’s greeted by Enid’s face against the sky as she squints in the sunlight. She wishes it wasn’t so blurry so she could see her better.

“Hey,” Enid greets, the wind making it hard to hear her tone. She doesn't even give Wednesday a chance to respond. “Look at this mess.”

Enid flips the camera around to the bus parked at a gas station, a group of people working on it while the crew hangs behind them.

“How serious is it?” Wednesday asks, trying to get a better look, but Enid’s got the camera showing more of the ground than the bus.

“Not sure,” Enid replies, and she faces the camera down the road, “But they’re sending some vans to come get us while they fix it.”

That’s at least some good news. Wednesday doesn’t know how far they are from Charlotte, but Enid seems to be relieved about the fact that they’re getting help.

“I’m sorry for the delays,” Wednesday still says anyways, because the situation still seems stressful, “I hope you all are able to make your show.”

“Me too,” Enid huffs. She walks farther away from the bus and goes to take a seat on the curb. “I feel like this was bound to happen sooner or later though.”

Enid sighs, the camera only catching the top half of her colorful hair for a moment.

“Speaking of apologies,” Enid says, her voice trailing off as she finally points the camera back at herself. “Sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to ghost you after snapping at you.”

Wednesday’s breath catches in her throat, Enid beating her to it. She didn’t expect an apology from Enid, she felt like she was the one who said something she shouldn’t have. She honestly thought they were going to move past it. Yet now, she finds herself needing to say something as well.

“And I meant what I said in my text,” Wednesday says, a bit shyly, “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” Enid smiles weakly, and even if she’s pixelated, Wednesday still finds the sight quite nice. “You were just looking out for me.”

Wednesday’s silent, both of them having pointed the cameras away from themselves by now. She just thinks about how quickly she had grown concerned about Enid to the point where it had made her angry. She can count the number of people she’d be that protective over on one hand.

“So we’re good, right?” Enid asks, and Wednesday tilts her head. “Like, you’re not mad at me?”

Wednesday doesn’t know why Enid needs to ask her that when they’ve already both apologized. She also doesn’t know that Enid’s thinking about how all of this is somehow karma for what she did last night.

“I should be asking you that,” Wednesday quickly replies, “But we are good. Keep me updated on your travels.”

“Of course,” Enid says, and the phone is back on her face which looks a lot more hopeful than it did earlier. “You can always text me even if I don’t respond. I don’t mind.”

She grins, and Wednesday’s glad she hasn’t turned the camera back to herself yet because she’s grown flustered.

“I’ll talk to you later then,” Wednesday nods back, finally getting a better look Enid. She hates how her eyes flick to her neck, looking for a mark like those fans were talking about.

“Bye Wednesday,” Enid mumbles, eyes flicking up to something in the distance before the call ends, leaving Wednesday to stare at her own reflection.

- - -

Of course Wednesday’s back on Twitter later that evening, and now, after she’s finally learned what happened is when she sees a post about the update. It’s a picture of the broken down bus, just like Enid had shown her.

@bloodmoondaily: It looks like the tour bus broke down! via Yoko’s Instagram story.
@avaebi: @bloodmoondaily NOOOOOO
@shippablehelen: @bloodmoondaily i’m on my way to save them don’t worry
@tenderentropy: @bloodmoondaily will they still be opening ???
@alasthegirl: @tenderentropy no frl i only bought a ticket just for them lmao

The replies from the fans amuse her. Enid had texted her not long ago saying they finally made it to Charlotte and were going to be given a new bus, and Wednesday sees the same update on Twitter a few posts down. It’s funny to her that she’s getting this info before everyone else, and she thinks about how many followers and likes she could get if she ever posted about it.

But Wednesday doesn’t care about any of that, and it would be a violation of both Enid’s privacy and trust. Instead, she’ll just mindlessly scroll for just a bit more before logging out like she told herself she would, the whole saga finally having come to an end.

That’s until Wednesday sees a tweet that catches her eye, one that she finds herself replying to without a thought. The person on the other end replies back quickly, and soon they’re both going at it.

@random_boy9: blood moon sucks and the only reason why this band is even opening is because one of them used to sleep with ajax
@nero6789998212: @random_boy9 That is false. Are you forgetting Divina and Kent are siblings as well? Couldn’t that also be a reason? Yet you choose to attack Enid.
@random_boy9: @nero6789998212 well her songwriting sucks so
@nero6789998212: @random_boy9 I have to disagree. Enid Sinclair is an accomplished songwriter who puts an immense effort into her work. You should just admit that you are too dense to appreciate good writing and that she has more talent in her pinky finger than you will ever have.
@random_boy9: @nero6789998212 omg enid stans are rabid ur acting like you know her or something

That line makes Wednesday freeze, her fingers hovering over her keyboard with the words bright on her screen.

She wants to think that they’re wrong, that she could easily brag that she has Enid’s number and talks to her every day and that they’re pretty much friends and they’ll never know what that feels like.

But then Wednesday thinks about how no, she doesn’t really know Enid like that, that Enid has a whole history and relationships and life that she’s lived that Wednesday’s only seen a sliver of. Even if they talk often, even if Enid calls her when she doesn't have anyone else, Wednesday is reminded she's not the most important person in Enid's life.

That gets Wednesday to finally log out and put her phone in her nightstand drawer and go to sleep, thinking about how the past three weeks have felt like years.