Summary:A new school year begins at Nevermore, and Enid wants to try her hand at becoming the first popular outcast on TikTok, much to Wednesday's annoyance. It seems to be going well, until a mysterious user with a blank profile begins defending her against hate comments.
Desperate to find out why this stranger cares so much, Enid messages them, not realizing they might be a lot closer to her than she thinks they are.
Notes:This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it would be too long, so I decided to break it up into chapters for easy digestion.
I know I cannot afford another WIP right now, but the only way I can stay active in the fandom is if I write, so here, eat up.
—Sincerely, Sierra
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1Chapter TextOn a rainy day in September, Wednesday wakes to Enid, once again, talking into her smartphone as though it'll answer her. They've been back at Nevermore for all of three days, and each morning is of the same variety; Wednesday is rudely awakened by Enid mumbling things at her iPhone, Enid notices she's disturbed her roommate and bashfully puts the phone away with a meek good-morning, and they both proceed with their daily activities.
"Enid, I am uncertain what might've happened to you while we were apart during the summer, but you've been uncharacteristically a morning person since the term started," Wednesday says, sitting against her headboard, with her hands folded nicely in her lap. Her smooth features morph into a scowl. "Knock it off."
They kept in contact, although quite minimally, through the heat of the season. Wednesday periodically and modestly checked the smartphone Xavier had given her as a backhanded ruse, and found that Enid had been trying to reach her for days. She would assure Enid that she was fine and that the weather was awfully sunny and disgusting in New Jersey, and then put away the phone for another week.
Perhaps she should've paid more attention to Enid instead of working on the sequel to her novel, because Enid acted like she had died and been resurrected when they reunited after summer.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Enid awkwardly giggles to herself folding her arms and sticking out one hip. Her hair is half done on the side where her scars lay on her cheek, and there is a smattering of "natural makeup"—an oxymoron, if Wednesday has a say in it—on her face. "Maybe you're just waking up later."
Wednesday swings her legs out of bed and wipes the nasty sleep grit from her eyes. "I'm not. My alarm has yet to go off, and it's only six in the morning. Typically I have to drag you from your linens so you can make it to first class. I wouldn't complain about the behavior if you'd simply quiet down and quit speaking to yourself like a deranged lunatic."
"Fine, Wednesday. You got me," Enid sighs, plopping down on the edge of her own bed, across the room. "I spent the whole summer trying to make TikToks like all the popular girls are doing. I've been doing get-ready-with-me's and showing what's in my backpack every day. When my parents took me to Jackson Hole in the summer, I recorded a TikTok of me packing my bags, and it got almost half a million views in a couple days! So I decided to keep making content and see what happens. I have almost eight thousand followers now. Pretty cool, huh?"
It's, decidedly, too early for Wednesday to process this information without combusting. She yawns stiffly and continues swiping at her face, trying to wake herself up a little more. Finally, Enid looks a little brighter in the morning glow pouring into the room through the colorful film on the window. Her scars seem to glimmer in the sunlight. Wednesday has never yearned to touch something more in her life.
"I don't quite understand the need to seek attention from strangers on the internet," she bitterly grumps at Enid. Her face smooths out a bit and her muscles relax. "But I suppose, if this pleases you and provides you with a purpose other than to pester me when I'm busy with my novel, I should be somewhat grateful for it. Even if I think that you are playing a dangerous game with your safety."
Enid's lips upturn into a smile. She's wearing shiny lipgloss the color of a summer strawberry. "I'm totally gonna go viral. You never see outcasts on TikTok. I wanna be the first viral outcast on TikTok! Wouldn't it be cool for everyone to see what it's like to live at Nevermore? Maybe it'll get rid of the stigma surrounding us. We're not a bunch of freaks. We're normal people who howl at full moons and drink blood and stuff like that."
"There isn't anything normal about us, Enid," Wednesday replies, still somewhat groggy from her slumber. "A normal outcast is perhaps an even worse oxymoron than natural makeup."
Tilting her head, Enid frowns at Wednesday. "You'll see. I just want them to stop calling us freaks and weirdos and diseases when they see us. I'm just trying to give insight. Which is why I've thought about posting day-in-the-life content! Like, a short vlog from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed. Doesn't that sound cool?"
"Absolutely riveting content," Wednesday deadpans. Another yawn leaves her mouth, and she scrubs her eyes again, so hard she sees shapes behind her sagging eyelids. "Please stop waking me so early on your mission to become TokTik famous."
"TikTok," Enid corrects with half a smile, grabbing her phone. She pauses a moment, glancing over at her sour roommate. "Do you wanna be in them with me?"
Wednesday makes a face, like she just drank spoiled milk. She shakes her head and clutches her metaphorical pearls—the "W" pendant hanging around her neck.
"Absolutely not," says Wednesday, completely affronted by the question. "I do not want my face plastered all over the internet for everyone to see and scrutinize. You may stomp around here and expose your side of the room to the outside world, but I'd prefer mine to remain as private as possible. There are homicidal maniacs on the internet, and they look just like everyone else."
Enid is a bit disappointed, but that is to be expected when it comes to Wednesday. She's been making progress on respecting Wednesday's boundaries, never pushing too much or too far, and although she's a little bummed out by Wednesday's response, she does her best to pull herself together quickly enough so Wednesday can't tell that she's utterly dejected by her reaction.
"I totally get it," she says to Wednesday, even if it's partially a lie. "Can I include Thing?"
"He's his own person. Well, sort of. He is sentient and can decide that for himself," Wednesday replies, eyes moving to the desk drawer where Thing often sleeps. "Ask him. But I'd expect plenty of negativity from the masses in response to the sight of him. He's…ghastly to behold."
"I'll ask, and I promise not to show your face, or him, if he says no."
Enid jumps off the bed and bounces towards the bathroom, presumably to work on the other half of her hair that's bundled up into a bird's nest. She holds her phone in the air, the front camera on and recording.
"Now I'm going to finish my hair, because it's a disaster…"
The bathroom door swings shut, and Enid is still talking to herself about makeup products the fancy hairbrush she uses. There is the sound of tapping, one after the other, and the faucet runs for a minute before switching off.
Deciding she could spare a few minutes before she has to fully wake up, Wednesday leans against her headboard and listens to the sound of Enid making herself comfortable on the face of the internet. She closes her eyes just in time for her alarm clock to ring, and she mumbles incoherently before slamming her hand down on the off switch.
From the bathroom, Enid says, "That was my roomie's alarm clock. Anyway, this is my fave brand of pimple patches ever!"
—
Enid holds up her end of the deal, keeping Wednesday's face out of frame or covering it with a black heart—always a black heart and never anything else—emoji if Wednesday does happen to turn her face towards the camera, though she tends to avoid Enid like the plague when her phone is recording.
Thing is a great sport about filming content. He's often perched on Enid's shoulder or painting her nails, and most of her viewers eat it up like a feast. Most of the engagement is garnered through the shock value of a disembodied hand acting the way a normal human with all their parts in tact would, but Enid doesn't necessarily mind the negative comments that she has to filter out to avoid them snowballing into a full-blown argument.
The engagement goes stale for a couple of weeks. She makes a habit of posting at least once a day, even if she has to pre-record and backlog her content so she'll have something to put out on even her worst and busiest days of the week, but it takes at least a few videos for her to see a spike in views and likes, and then the next few following it are back to being comment-less and otherwise bland in engagement.
Comments from her Nevermore friends don't count as engagement to her, either. Yoko is frequently stalking her profile and will spam-like everything she's yet to watch, and she also tries her best to boost Enid's videos with comments and favorites. Divina chips in on the efforts, too, and sometimes Enid wakes up to dozens of likes between the two of them.
And then, on a Sunday afternoon, just a few hours after she posted a new "spend the morning with me at Nevermore" video, which featured Thing sitting on the bathroom sink as she applied her makeup, she thinks she's finally cracked the TikTok code, because her phone buzzes nonstop while she's knitting yet another snood for Wednesday's upcoming birthday.
She ignores it for awhile, working her fingers to the bone between spools of black and white yarn, trying to remain focused enough to get at least halfway through her project while the energy drink is still pumping through her veins and Wednesday is still out trying to exhume the dead for some entertainment.
It takes approximately half an hour before Enid forfeits and swipes her phone off the wireless charger her dad gave her over the summer. She expects at least a few notifications from Yoko and her other friends, maybe asking her if she wants to catch a movie at the local theatre before curfew, but she's both surprised and confused to find nothing but TikTok messages. She scrolls through them on her drop down menu, her eyebrows coming together with confusion.
There are comments, and so many of them, at that. She even got a couple dozen new followers, which is more than startling, because she hasn't gotten one in a few days. Her heart thumps wildly in her chest, maybe from the Redbull she chugged earlier, and she sucks in a deep breath as she goes to the TikTok app and opens her most recent video.
In the last few hours, she's earned herself 7,941 likes and 360 comments. She's seen more than that before, but never in such a short timespan. Curious and with a shaky thumb, she opens her comments and takes a brief scroll through, eyes scanning for any alarming or derogatory words.
Most of the reactions are positive, and some are 12-year-old boys passing middle school insults that make little sense. Others are blatant attempts at defaming outcasts and calling them the uncreative names of "freaks" and "weirdos," which she promptly deletes. She likes a few comments telling her how pretty she is, replies to someone asking her where she got her water bottle—"idk, my dad bought it for me" is often her response to a lot of things and she knows it's unhelpful—and thanks someone on behalf of Thing for saying he's a good friend to Enid.
She finally gets to the bottom of the comments, some half hour later, still coming off the high of the engagement that continues to roll in. The grin on her face dissipates into a soft frown of concern and hurt.
Good luck finding a bf with those scars. So gross 🤢
3h
She goes to delete the comment for her own good, when she notices a reply to it. Typically she would delete and soon forget about it, after a short crying session, but today she's feeling brave, so she opens the reply, halfway expecting to find agreement about how grotesque her scars are. She's surprised to see someone, a faceless profile, coming to her defense.
user18996356001
You aren't a prize yourself. If you need a toupee at the age of 26, at least find one suitable for your uneven head shape.
1h
She laughs at that, and likes the reply, deciding to leave the negativity sit there for awhile.
Deciding she needs to continue working on Wednesday's snood, she puts her phone on silent and sets it aside, face down. She picks up her half-done project and resumes working on it, still giggling at the thought of a 26-year-old needing a toupee.
—
Over the next couple days, that video receives a total of forty thousand likes. Enid is still riding the high of it, whenever she isn't doing her best to filter out the hate comments about how "gross" outcasts are, and the unoriginal comments of "kys freak!"
On Tuesday afternoon, she posts a nighttime routine that she filmed last night, noting in her caption that she was whispering so lowly because Wednesday—"my roomie," as Enid refers to her on the internet, because she respects the boundary Wednesday laid—was already in bed for the night, on which someone commented with "is your roommate an old lady or?" And by dinner time, it catches the attention of twenty thousand people.
"I suppose we cannot eat in silence?" Wednesday grumps at Enid, sitting next to her in the quad. "Your cellular device has been making noises all afternoon. I would like to hear myself think."
Enid startles at the sound of Wednesday's voice. She's been deleting hate comments and replying to her loyal followers and friends. Her nighttime routine featured a new pajama shorts and button-up shirt set, made of white cotton fabric and decorated with tiny orange pumpkins, and everyone has been asking for the link and brand. She doesn't like to gatekeep too much, so she does her due diligence of telling the whole world where she got them. "A small business in Jericho VT," followed by the heart-eyes emoji, suffices.
"Sorry," she apologizes to Wednesday, tucking her phone into her jacket pocket. "I was moderating my comments."
"I cannot imagine why you enjoy replying to those imbeciles," Wednesday huffs, and picks at the tough center of her well-done steak. "You do not personally know any of them. They could be serial killers for all you know."
"They're my followers. It's important to reply for the engagement," she replies. "I know you're not on TikTok, but sometimes my viewers ask me questions about some of the stuff I show in my videos. It's kinda rude to gatekeep or not reply to anyone. I try to reply to at least a few. It's part of being an influencer."
"I'm fairly certain that you exposing the inside of Nevermore to the world breaks some sort of clause in the contract we all signed upon our enrollment," Wednesday says, now tearing her bread roll in half. She sops up some gravy with it and takes a good sniff before twisting up her face in disgust and plopping it onto Enid's plate.
"Thanks," Enid mutters, half repulsed. "And no, it doesn't, because we didn't sign anything. Our parents did. I can do whatever I want. And I'm not the first outcast to post the inside of Nevermore, ya know. Yoko has a TikTok."
"Is Yoko gaining even half the attention you claim to be gaining?" Wednesday counters, her obsidian eyes darkening. "Hardly not, or else she would be boasting about to anyone with ears."
"It's not a big deal," Enid sighs. She picks up the soggy bread roll and takes a healthy bite. "Stop killing my vibe, please. Thing is super excited that someone complimented his nail polish."
Wednesday goes to retort, but a tray of food is slammed in front of her. She looks up, finding Yoko making herself at home across from her and Enid. She is noticeably without her other half who is typically clinging to her side at any given chance.
"'Sup, bestie? And…soul-sucker," Yoko greets, smiling as she pops open her blood bag and pours it into a glass.
"Where is Divina? Did she finally make like her father and disappear?" Wednesday asks with sudden frustration.
Stirring the blood with her fingertip, Yoko scoffs at her. "Cranky today, are we? No, she's swimming with Kent. The weather has been nice lately."
Wednesday looks up at the burning sunlight descending overhead. She squints. "It's been disgusting."
"Anyway," Yoko says, sipping at her glass as she looks towards Enid. "Dude, your TikTok has been blowing up lately. I really thought most people would be assholes, but there are some actually nice normies out there. And Ajax. I just saw he commented a few minutes ago. He still can't figure out why there is a black heart that pops up some—"
The tip of Enid's sneaker jams itself right into Yoko's shin. Yoko grunts, blood trickling from her lips. She messily wipes it away with a paper napkin, glaring yellow at Enid.
"What the hell?" Yoko chokes, crimson still dribbling out of her mouth. "Why'd you do that?"
While Wednesday is stewing over the vague mention of Ajax, Enid twitches her head towards Wednesday, eyes suggestively telling Yoko to shut up.
"Right," Yoko immediately rectifies, picking up her fork. "We don't talk about that."
Wednesday releases a short breath, almost sounding frenzied, before standing up with her tray of half-eaten steak and untouched corn on the cob. She regards Enid with a gaze so soft Enid almost melts under the evening sun.
"I'm not feeling in the mood to eat," she tells Enid. "I'm going to go upstairs and work on my novel. Try to utilize some discretion if you insist on sharing intimate details of your life with the rest of society."
Enid doesn't get a word in before Wednesday is walking away from her. She sighs and looks to Yoko, who's sipping away at her blood glass like it's her last meal on earth.
"She's cranky," Yoko comments between gulps.
"I hate to sound like a misogynist, but she's literally on her period," Enid says, shaking her head. She leans forward and whispers, "You almost outed me. Can you stop making it obvious in front of her?"
"Oh please, Enid, she's the most oblivious person I know. She can take down some old dude from the 1600's but she can't see that you like her," Yoko passively snorts, dismissing Enid with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "I'm never gonna tell her outright, but you need to get it together."
"Pretty sure she's autistic and doesn't understand basic social cues or signs that someone likes her, but that's not the point," Enid mutters, slamming her hand on the table hard enough to make the blood in Yoko's glass ripple. "The point is that I already have a plan in place, and you're not gonna ruin it."
Yoko stabs her corncob and brings it to her mouth. She winks at Enid before sinking her teeth into it. "You already know her cycle off the top of your head. Time to get married."
"I saw a used pad in the trash, and it wasn't mine," Enid says with a roll of her eyes. "And a tampon. Or should I say, a teabag for you."
The corn hits the plate. Yoko curls up her lip, sticking out her tongue. "I fucking hate you, Enid."
—
In the morning, the first thing Enid does the moment she gains consciousness is take her phone off the charger and turn off do not disturb. She posted another nighttime routine video before she fell asleep to the sound of Wednesday's breathing, hoping she would have something to look forward to come sunrise.
She only received thirty comments on it, but it's better than nothing, she decides, so she opens them and takes a quick scroll. Everything is positive—compliments on her hair and pajamas, remarks about how good her skincare products are, the occasional heart emoji from what might be a bot—except for one noticeably bitter comment.
ur so ugly omg
1h
The first thing her mind knows to do is produce tears, and the moment she feels the pinpricks at her eyes, she sees a reply appear beneath the comment. She wipes away a wayward tear and taps on the reply.
user18996356001
I am certain that is what your mother thought of you the moment she pushed you out.
1m
Enid chuckles, all watery and sniffly, before pulling herself together and liking the reply. She sits up in bed, dramatically stretching with a large groan that sounds more like a growl.
Across the room, Wednesday is sat at her desk, still in her black nightdress and equally black socks. She's hunched over something, presumably her notebook that she outlines plot lines in. She jolts at the sound of Enid rustling behind her, and quickly tucks something in the pocket of the nightdress.
"Why are you awake?" she hastily asks Enid, swiveling her head just enough to get a good look at Enid, whose hair is in a wild disarray of yellow around her face. "Your alarm is not set to ring for another ten minutes."
"My eyes are open," Enid says. She tilts her head like a curious dog. "Why are you still in your pajamas? You're usually getting dressed by now."
"I am waiting for the painkillers to kick in so I can move properly," she replies honestly, which is surprising to Enid, considering Wednesday often inflicts pain upon herself for enjoyment. "I suppose you intend to film yourself washing your face."
"If you don't mind," she yawns, rolling out of bed and disabling her impending alarm on her phone. "I won't be that long in there. Promise."
Enid quickly goes to the bathroom and sets her phone up against a spray bottle of sunscreen, sighing at the dark circles under her eyes, which she's definitely going to point out in her video. She's starting to get the hang of this TikTok thing, except for the fact that she's using skincare products as a tripod.
She also can't get the girl she wants, so there are bigger issues at hand here.
—
Another vlog is posted, and with that comes scrutiny over Enid's choice to consume two energy drinks a day. She's been bouncing between Redbull and Alani, both of which are high in caffeine content and likely contributing to her sudden surge of anxiety, but the anxiety usually happens in the presence of Wednesday, so perhaps the cocktail of energy boosters she's drinking isn't solely to blame.
On Friday, her Thursday vlog goes viral. She reaches a million views and 249 thousand likes and way too many comments for her to moderate without breaking down into tears over how many people still think outcasts are the vermin of the world. She doesn't bother with deleting anything anymore, not after she deletes at least fifty negative comments and replies to several different people asking the same question—"where did you get your moon hair clip?"
She scrolls through her comments, absentmindedly and ironically liking the ones telling her that the energy drinks are going to send her into cardiac arrest before graduation. Everything feels numb, including her fingers that have been squeezing her phone like she's trying to strangle the commenters who remind her that outcasts should be put to sleep.
Wednesday's snood is three-quarters complete, hidden under Enid's bed in a Nike shoebox, and her birthday is just over a week away. Enid knows she needs to get to work if she wants to have something to present her gloomy roommate on her 17th birthday, but she's practically paralyzed in bed as she swipes through the comments. It's as though someone is puppeteering her fingers. She can't tear her eyes away, and maybe the Redbull is going to kill her, because her heart begins to violently thump in her chest.
Does your roomie think she's famous? It's stupid to cover her lol
10m
user18996356001
Perhaps you should cover your face, too. Some of us are digesting our food.
6m
And then, a few comments down:
youre voice is so annoying
37m
user18996356001
That's a lot of confidence for someone who doesn't know the difference between "your" and "you're."
5m
Enid takes notice of the username, noting the number sequence that seems so oddly familiar. She taps on the profile picture, still faceless and blank, and it takes her to an equally vacant profile. No posted content, no bio, no liked or reposted videos. It could possibly be some sort of bot, because the dead internet theory says so, but the responses are too thoroughly witty to be anything but a real person.
She decides that there's nothing more to see there, and assumes it's just someone who's compassionate about people and doesn't enjoy watching someone be bullied off the internet.
Sometimes she looks at the scars on her cheek and wonders if there is any good left on the planet, but then Wednesday will give her an unfinished slice of dark chocolate cake at dinner, and suddenly there is good, and it comes in the form of a petulant scowl and dimpling cheeks and two long braids that smell of expensive shampoo.
She has little sanity left for the evening, and she's supposed to meet Wednesday for dinner, so she pockets her phone and runs her brush though her hair a few times to untangle the mess sitting atop her head.
Whoever is replying to her hate comments is going to have to wait until she can have dinner with Wednesday. She knew what she was getting herself into when she made the commitment to share her life on the internet, and sometimes strange things happen there. It's all part of the act. It doesn't mean anything, and if it does mean something, she doesn't want to be any the wiser.
—
Wednesday had fencing shortly before dinner, as evident by a fresh scar on her forehead. She sports a reserved frown when she sits next to Enid in the quad, a tray of meatloaf and mashed potatoes in her hands.
"Bianca got you?" Enid asks, gesturing to the inch-long gash on Wednesday's forehead. It's been covered with a gaudy bandaid. "And you actually went to the infirmary to get looked at?"
"That wasn't my choice," huffs Wednesday. "There were witnesses, and Coach Winston was fretting over the blood dripping into my eyes. I didn't think it was so terrible, but he clearly had other opinions. I wasn't exactly in any mood to put up a fight."
"Because the dude is six-eight and a werewolf and you can fit in my pocket," Enid giggles, picking up her fork to play with her lifeless carrots. "Does it hurt?"
"Only my ego."
Yoko invites herself to sit in front of them, again, prompting Wednesday to roll her eyes to the sky.
"Hello to you too, Wednesday," says Yoko, placing a napkin on her lap and pouring a bag of blood into a glass. She pauses and looks at Enid from over the rims of her glasses. "Enid."
"No Divina again?" Enid asks. "Busy with Kent and the sirens?"
"I'm right here," Divina suddenly says, walking around the table and settling next to Yoko. She has a plate of fish on her tray, which was the secondary option that Wednesday also had zero interest in based on smell alone. "Did I miss something?"
Wednesday eyes the gutted fish with disgust. "Cannibalism."
Divina tilts her head. "Huh?"
"Cannibalism," Wednesday repeats, pointing her fork at the fish. "You are part fish, are you not? Consuming fish would make you a cannibal."
"I'm a siren," Divina corrects. "Just because I can thrive in water, doesn't mean I'm part fish. That's like saying Enid eating a wolf is cannibalism. Werewolves are different."
Enid puts her phone down for a second, looking up. "What? Sorry, I'm replying to comments."
"Nothing," Wednesday mutters as she sniffs her mashed potatoes. She takes a bite, keeping her opposite hand in her pocket where her phone is. She recently learned to put it on vibrate, but now it keeps tickling her. "Continue indulging in strangers' opinions of you."
"How are you able to respond to so many comments so fast?" Divina asks Enid. "I just checked while I was in line. You got a lot recently. I think I'd go crazy."
"I'm only replying to nice ones," Enid says, shrugging. "The mean ones, I delete or just wait for someone to rip them apart. Sometimes I just like the comments and move on. But I'm trying to reply to questions. Engagement is important."
"Don't forget us when you're famous," Yoko tells her, sipping her blood. "Remember the little people."
Enid grins at her, practically blinding Wednesday from next to her. Sometimes her smiles make Wednesday physically sick.
"I'd never forget you. Ever," Enid says. She then goes a little quiet, shoulders sagging. "Besides, I don't think I'll ever be, like, a big influencer or anything. Not as a job. People are still way too mean about me being an outcast. They hate to see me win."
"Normies are assholes," Yoko sighs. Her lips are stained red. "Don't worry about them, though. You're getting popular. It's unique content. Even your editing isn't bad."
Enid hopes Yoko doesn't mention the black hearts she uses to censor Wednesday's face again. She can't afford to explain such complexities to Wednesday, especially when the latter is already in a foul mood after losing a fencing match.
"Enid," Wednesday says, making Enid turn to look at her. She's scooping up her meatloaf onto her fork. "I'm not feeling quite hungry this evening. I'd like to go upstairs. You have it."
She drops the entirety of her meal onto Enid's plate, like she's feeding her dog table scraps after dinner, and leaves the table with her empty tray and her phone buzzing in her pocket.
Once Wednesday is gone, Yoko takes notice of the concentrated look on Enid's face. Enid slowly takes a spoonful of the mashed potatoes Wednesday left behind, wondering if she'll catch anything from her if she does eat it. She holds her phone in her other hand, keeping a watchful eye on her notifications.
"Trouble in paradise?" Divina asks, cutting into the tender innards of the fish. "She ran away like she saw a ghost."
"She's just like that." Enid takes a bite of Wednesday's leftovers, now understanding why she ditched them; she had gotten a corner piece of the meatloaf, and it was noticeably crispy and tough. "Maybe she felt left out. She doesn't understand social media. She keeps bitching about me posting myself for everyone to see and make fun of. And she really thinks that someone is gonna kidnap me or something."
"Just wait until she realizes she's being featured behind a giant black heart," Yoko laughs to herself.
"You can't tell her," Enid quickly snaps. "You can't, okay? She doesn't understand how social media works, and I'm trying to keep it that way. Let her be media illiterate."
Yoko and Divina share a glance as Enid busies herself with scrolling through her comments. Of course, someone has something less than nice to say about Enid's casual clothing choices.
Your clothes look stupid. It's giving special needs toddler
25m
View 1 reply
Hesitant, she taps on the reply, halfway expecting someone to agree that her sweater decorated with pink hearts reminds them of a toddler with a learning disability.
user18996356001
And you look like someone who needed remedial math, science, and English in school, so I would not comment on special needs.
2m
Enid snorts out a laugh, sputtering mashed potatoes all over the table. Yoko raises an eyebrow, wiping spit off her cheek with a napkin.
"Sorry," Enid says, staring at her screen. She zeroes in on the username. "This one person keeps replying to all my hate comments with petty insults."
Divina immediately scoops up her phone from the table, quickly going to Enid's TikTok page. "Which video? I wanna see."
"Most of them, really," Enid says, casually liking the person's reply. "It's, like, at least once every video I post. It's the same person. They don't have any videos or anything on their profile. No posts at all. Not even a real user, just the one TikTok automatically gave them. It's kinda weird. The profile is public but their likes and follows are hidden, too. They only follow one person. I checked."
"Do they follow you?" Divina asks. "Probably just a follower with a strong sense of justice and who hates to see you get bullied."
Enid hadn't actually bothered to see if the user follows her or not, so she goes to her followers page and searches the username. It quickly appears there, in bold, and she looks up at her friends with a look of half confusion and half fear.
"They do follow me," she announces. "So the one person they follow is me."
"Well, that explains why they're on every video. You're the only creator who shows up in their following tab," Divina replies with a shrug. "Don't worry about it. They aren't being creepy towards you. They're defending you. I'd just leave it alone."
It's fair enough and reasonably plausible to consider. Enid knew what she was getting herself into when she made the choice to post her daily life on the internet. Sometimes strange people with strange obsessions lurk on her page, and as much as it worries her to think about who could really be behind the username, she understands that it's part of the deal, and so she sets aside her phone and tries to finish her—and Wednesday's—meal.
Chapter 2Summary:Enid messages the mystery person who keeps defending her.
Notes:I'm gonna say something and I need y'all to focus and not crucify me.
I've only read a handful of Wednesday fics, ages ago, and no longer read anything on here. I'm exclusively a writer. But, the few I can recall reading included a nickname for Wednesday—Willa. I don't know the source of it, I don't know where it exactly began, but if you've been reading my Wednesday works for awhile, you might've noticed that I do not use it nor do I give Wednesday a nickname that is not a term of endearment given by Enid. I prefer that Enid uses her actual name (I think the nickname is cute but I've personally chosen not to use it, I have no issues with it).
This is a hill I've chosen to die on. However, it's mentioned here in a very specific context because y'all seem to be familiar with it and I just couldn't think of anything else.
Please don't kill me. I have nothing against it, it's merely preference. I love y'all.
—Sincerely, Sierra
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Enid realizes that she's running out of time to work on Wednesday's snood. The thirteenth of October is rapidly approaching and she's only managed to complete two-thirds of her project. She decides to kill two birds with one stone while Wednesday is out for the evening, and creates content from her "last-minute" birthday preparations. It's exaggerated, of course, but the beauty of the internet is that the illusion that she's running out of time makes for more drama and captures attention from busybodies who might want to stick around to see if she'll make it on time.
No one has two know that she still has three entire days to finish the snood. All the internet needs to know is that she is running late and it's going to be chaotic. It's a tactic used by influencers all over the internet to gain more attention. It's considered a type of bait, but Enid doesn't feel an ounce of guilt for embellishing certain areas of her life. If she wants to make it out on the other side of the social media popularity contest, she's going to have to compete with the rest, and sometimes that means fabricating things.
After setting up her phone on a stack of textbooks sitting on her bed, Enid situates herself against her headboard, holding unraveled yarn and a messy snood in her lap. The timer goes off and the phone begins to record her as she works quickly yet efficiently at the black and white yarn wrapped and woven between her fingers.
"My roomie is totally going to be surprised when she sees this," she tells the camera as she completes a new row. "Speaking of my roomie. I've gotten comments asking me why I cover her face in my videos. She asked me not to share her face or name or personal info online, and she said she would like to be anonymous, so I'm gonna respect that. For one, respect is super important to me, and for two, she might unalive me in my sleep if I showed her face. But she also doesn't have TikTok, so she probably wouldn't find out. But yeah, I don't show her just because she told me not to. It's literally that simple and you'll have to respect that. I don't care if you think I'm weird for it. I know she's not famous or anything. It's just for respect of her privacy. Some of you lack social media awareness and it shows."
She stops the camera for a moment, just so she can focus on completing the row, and then starts again once she's found a coherent thought.
"I hope she likes this snood," she continues speaking to her reflection on the screen. "I've been working really hard on it for her. Gift-giving is my love language. She hates surprises, but she loves to feel miserable, so I guess it's all gonna work out."
Thing jumps up onto Enid's bed, frantically pointing at the door. She swipes her phone and quickly stops filming, shoving the tangled snood under her mountain of pillows just as the door squeaks open and Wednesday emerges covered in soot and filth. Her messenger bag is hanging halfway off her body, equally as dirty as her skin and hair.
"Hey there, roomie," Enid says, exasperated and practically blue in the face as she sprawls herself out on her bed with her hand supporting her head, attempting to seem nonchalant. "You look…like shit. Where have you been?"
Shrugging off her vest and messenger bag, Wednesday gives Enid an incredulous look with those lovely brown eyes that remind Enid of a night sky. Her face is the color of a raincloud, smeared in dirt, and her hands look practically necrotic with soil and mud. Her clothes aren't much cleaner; her pants are dusty at the knees and her sweater is decorated with leaves and dead flower petals. It's like a bouquet of cemetery flowers bloomed from her chest.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she deadpans, immediately going to her desk and sitting down in front of her typewriter. She glares at the half-typed sentence that she can no longer recall the second part of. "I was doing a bit of…digging. I needed to relax."
"You mean desecrating graves?" Enid sighs. "Why were you at the cemetery again?"
"It's quite an entertaining activity, I must say," Wednesday replies without tearing her eyes away from her typewriter. "I went to think."
"And thinking involves body snatching, I guess?"
Wednesday spins in her chair, glaring at Enid. "I didn't remove any of the corpses this time."
"You can't go back to jail, you know that," Enid sighs, but the smile on her lips contradicts the seriousness of her statement. "I don't have bail money."
"My parents do." She spins around again, rolling up her dirty sleeves and getting to work on her novel. "Now may I write in peace or is there a lecture you'd like to give me?"
"Nope," Enid says, grabbing her phone. "I'm gonna go in the bathroom and film some night routine content and do some editing. I'll leave you alone."
Wednesday doesn't say anything after that, halfway slumped over her desk like someone is sitting on her shoulders. The sound of the keys clacking fills the room, leaving Enid uncomfortably sighing as she retreats to their shared bathroom with her phone in her hand.
Once she's settled on the toilet seat lid, Enid opens TikTok and scrolls through the comments on the morning vlog she posted this afternoon. She takes some time to like all of the positive ones, and she responds to questions about what Nevermore's well-funded food tastes like.
She gets to the bottom of the comments, frowning at yet another person mocking her lifestyle and dietary choices, most notably, a clip of her eating a stack of three blueberry pancakes with a large topping of homemade whipped cream and fresh strawberries. Wednesday had saved them for her, knowing Enid was going to be late to breakfast after spending an insufferably long time filming herself applying her makeup in the bathroom mirror.
Ur gonna get big as a house if u keep eating like that
2h
View 1 reply
user18996356001
I suppose you would know. Extraterrestrials are still feeling the shockwave of your mother walking, 20 light years away.
55m
"That's absolutely vile," Enid whispers to herself, containing laughter with her palm so she doesn't alert Wednesday to her antics. She doesn't like the comment this time, not wanting to encourage any sort of body-shaming, but she does screenshot it to look back at whenever she's down—and to show Yoko just how bewildering this person is.
She decides to edit what little content she was able to film while working on Wednesday's birthday gift, but as she splices all the clips together and selects an appropriate audio that doesn't sound like the millennial anthem, she continues reverting back to thinking of the anonymous user who keeps jumping to her defense.
It's peculiar, really, because not even Yoko or any of her other friends have defended her in such cold hearted, ruthless ways. The intrigue of the faceless profile picture is nauseating, and Enid can feel a gravitational pull tugging her towards the empty profile itself.
Still only following one person, has zero followers, and a blank photo to match the absolute void.
Before Enid can consider her actions, she taps the "follow" button, and suddenly she and this mystery person are now TikTok friends. Before this, her only TikTok friends were those she's friends with outside of the social media world, for safety reasons and because it makes the most sense. She has some reservations about following an empty account that lacks content or personality, but ultimately she's only curious, even if she thinks that it might be dangerous.
It's probably even more dangerous than simply following this person, but she decides to send them a direct message anyway.
Hey. Thanks for defending me ig
She blinks at her message for awhile, wondering if it'll ever be seen, but nothing happens, and after a couple of minutes, her legs start to go numb as she slumps over on the toilet, and so she sits up straight and stretches out her legs.
For the next half hour, she works on editing, and then she posts the video of herself creating Wednesday's snood that's still a mess under her pillows. She puts her phone aside while she brushes her teeth and washes her face, neither of which she films this time.
Her phone wakes up on its own, prompting her to drop her washcloth and grab it off the sink. She's surprised to find a direct message in her notifications.
user18996356001
You shouldn't listen to the insipid creatures of the world.
Enid quickly starts to reply, even if she doesn't quite know what to say. She resumes her place on the toilet lid, bouncing her knees as she responds.
Idc what ppl say. They don't bother me like they think they do 🤷♀️
Seen
Nothing happens for a minute or two, and then the person starts typing.
That's an admirable trait, I must admit. It will benefit you when you're older. Unless you die young, of course.
Enid feels her heart drop into her stomach. Her years on the internet have taught her valuable lessons about not engaging with weirdos online, and this should be a major red flag, but she'll have to just deal with Yoko's lecture later if this happens to go haywire and she ends up in the trunk of someone's car.
Uhhhh ok
It still benefits me now ig. Can't let bullies silence me yk?
Seen
It's quiet. Enid thinks she's lost them entirely, or that they ended the conversation there, but then another message appears.
I understand.
So why do u keep defending me on my posts? You don't even know me like that 🤔
Seen
Is being kind to others a crime now?
Enid swallows as her fingers tremble across the keyboard. Wednesday would absolutely murder her if she found out that Enid has been having conversations with a faceless person online. But Wednesday is busy and completely unaware, so it doesn't really matter.
No buuuuut…idk it's just that u don't even have a pfp or followers
I thought u were a bot or smth
Seen
It takes awhile for them to respond, but they eventually do.
No, I am not a robot. I am a human. I can assure you of that.
Oh ok. If ur sure
Seen
Of course I am sure. I think I would know if I weren't human.
Ik that. Just saying
How come u don't have a pfp or any posts? And u only follow me and nobody else?
Kinda sus tbh 🫣
Seen
I prefer to simply watch.
Enid tilts her head, staring at the message for an unreasonably lengthy amount of time as she tries to accurately process it. The person starts typing again, and Enid thinks she might vomit up her heart.
Your content is interesting enough for me. I'm quite new to this. I don't spend much time on any sort of social media. I find it to be a waste of time and incredibly dangerous to partake in.
Enid relaxes a bit, sighing with relief that whoever this is isn't a total creep getting off on video of her trying to enjoy her underaged life.
U sound just like my roomie lmao
She hates the internet
Seen
She sounds wise. I understand why she wants you to keep her identity private. There are disturbed individuals on the internet, and they walk among us every day. You cannot trust everyone.
Yeah I know I get why she hates it. She's kinda like an old lady tbh
She goes to sleep like super early and wakes up early 😭
I love her tho
Seen
You love her? You only refer to her as your roommate.
That's more of a difficult message to reply to, because Enid doesn't know this person or their intentions, and things are getting too personal for her liking, but if she can't admit anything explicit to the world or to Wednesday herself, she has to tell someone, and Yoko just isn't doing it for her anymore. Sometimes it's easier to confess to people she's never met. She likes to call it "no strings attached" or "free therapy."
U know there's different kinds of love right?
I'm allowed to love her
Seen
You use a black heart emoticon to censor her face. It's quite telling.
Bc I love her duh 🤦♀️
It's really not that deep
Ppl can love platonically yk
And there called emojis now. This isn't 2010
Seen
I am simply telling you what it might look to your viewers who might assume things.
They may begin to speculate and spread rumors that you are, for one, not heterosexual, and for two, in love with your roommate.
Also, the correct usage is "they're."
Well I'm not hetero. So they would be right 🫢
And idc abt rumors. It's the internet. Ppl talk shit all the time
Seen
You would consider a rumor that you are in love with your roommate to be "talking shit"?
Not really. I'm just saying that ppl will say anything and it doesn't matter
You literally said so urself
Seen
I did say that, but the implication behind your statement is that such a thing would be negative.
It wouldn't be. I don't care 🤷♀️
Maybe I do like her like that
No one would ever know for sure tho and they would just look dumb to assume
Guess we'll never know huh
Seen
They don't reply to that, seemingly disappearing from the chat all together.
A knock at the door almost sends her phone flying out of her hands. She exits the app and shoves her phone in her pocket, scrambling to flush the toilet as she struggles to stand up on prickly legs that feel like static flowing down her calves.
"Enid, I would like to use the toilet sometime this century, if you would kindly let me have a turn before I soil the floor and make you clean it up," Wednesday calls from the other side. "It's going to travel down my leg very soon."
Enid opens the door, finding Wednesday staring up at her with a certain shine in her big brown eyes. Her hair is all askew and her face is still caked in mud. She smells like the earth and the black ink from her typewriter. Enid could indulge in that scent for eternity and never tire of it. Sometimes she wishes she could bottle it up and keep forever, to inhale whenever she's apart from Wednesday. The summer was torture without her.
"It's about time," Wednesday mutters. "If you are constipated, I have an herbal tea that will clean you right out in just minutes. But I must warn you, too much of it can cause internal bleeding. I'm not in the mood to visit the hospital again, so I advise you to use caution and be modest with your intake."
"I'm fine," Enid curtly replies. "Totally fine. It's all yours now."
Wednesday locks herself in the bathroom, leaving Enid staring at the read message she last sent to the mystery person.
Suddenly the person is typing again, and Enid feels her heart skipping a few beats and her chest tightening. She doesn't know why it would take them so long to reply, and she assumes that they're telling her off for being sarcastic and ungrateful about their defense of her.
If you enjoy her company in a romantic way, perhaps it would be ideal to be honest and upfront about that.
Enid sucks in a sharp breath, unsure of how to respond. She knows she shouldn't be talking to strangers on the internet and Yoko would kill her if she found out that she's been telling vulnerable secrets to someone who remains anonymous behind an empty TikTok account, but she can't help herself.
Ok there are issues with that
Bc one she is straight
Two she fucking hates people
Three she had a traumatic experience with an ex bf. Well it was a situationship but yeah you get it
He was not a good person. Let's just say that 🤷♀️
Seen
How do you know that she is heterosexual?
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh her situationship was a boy????
And that's super complicated and private so I can't give details but like it's obvious that she is straight
I'd never ruin my friendship with her
Seen
The conversation abruptly comes to a halt for a minute or two. Enid paces around the room, careful not to stomp Thing into the ground where he is sat messily painting his nails. The toilet flushes and the faucet runs, but Wednesday doesn't leave the bathroom, so Enid bides her time and sits at the edge of her bed, eyes glazing over as she impatiently waits for the person to type.
I'm almost certain that one can find attraction to any gender. It isn't exclusive to only one. You are making bold assumptions about her and could be losing out on something good by being so bashful about it.
Yeah but she hates people and is traumatized
So even if she caught the gay 🏳️🌈
It's literally impossible for her to like me back
Seen
Once again, all assumptions.
Idk who u are
Not trying to be rude ofc but like idk you
So if u could like not pressure me if u don't know me or her that would be nice
Seen
I understand. I was only trying to make a point.
I appreciate that but idk you at all
Can you at least tell me ur name? Bc u don't even have a real user rn
Ur pronouns at least?
Seen
When the chat goes stale again, Enid assumes she's scared away the person with her bold question. As soon as she goes to put her phone on the charger, they start typing again. She holds her phone close to her face, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Wednesday hasn't left the bathroom. Thing is still preoccupied with periwinkle nail polish that has now stained the floor and Wednesday will have to clean up after she berates him for destroying school property.
You can refer to me as Willa. I am a girl.
A sigh of relief leaves Enid. At least she won't have to go to bed with the idea that she's talking to a grown man who gets off to her content of her in her schoolgirl uniform. Well, she hopes not, anyway.
Ok cool Willa
U know my name already but I'm Enid
Seen
Yes, I know your name.
This is probably a super weird question so don't answer if u don't want to
Do u live in the states?
Seen
Yes. I currently reside in the Northeast region of the US.
Oh same here 🙂
Vermont
Seen
I will not reveal too many intimate details of my life and location, but I also live somewhere with seasons and an adequately cold climate this time of year.
I knew you live in Vermont. You have made that abundantly clear in multiple of your videos, even showing revealing locations. Quite dangerous of you.
Enid frowns at that, wiping off sweat that forms on her palms on her pant legs. It feels like the room is closing in on her. Her clothes feel abnormally snug and make her feel like she's being strangled to death.
I mean I don't post in real time bc creeps and stuff
But u can easily find out what state bc of my school
So I'm not really hiding anything
Seen
Do you fail to realize that the address of your school is readily available on the internet with a simple Google search? You have essentially provided perverts with your home address.
The school is protected by security and stuff
So if you think you can just break in or kidnap me or whatevs…you can't
Seen
I have no interest in doing such a thing. If I really wanted to, I would have already, since I know where you live most of the year.
My point is that others aren't as morally gifted as I am. Haven't you ever read about Ted Bundy? He was from Vermont. Just an hour away from where you live. He kidnapped, assaulted, and murdered dozens of women.
Enid's stomach begins to hurt.
Uhhhh yeah ik who that is. My roomie is like totally obsessed with serial killers
Seen
A woman of taste, I see. Yet another reason for you to admit to your feelings.
I'm not gonna do that
And if I do, it's not gonna be bc she has a shrine dedicated to Aileen Wuornos
Seen
A shrine dedicated to an infamous female serial killer? She sounds miserably delightful. Whoever captures her cold heart is surely going to live a life of perfect, woeful misery. She seems to have charm.
Enid's eyebrows crease in frustration. She frantically types a response.
Yeah well I don't think she will ever let anyone love her like that
She can be kinda self-centered sometimes too
Seen
Now you are speaking negatively of her?
U can be attracted to someone and still criticize their faults yk
Like Hannah Montana said. Nobody's perfect
Seen
I suppose you are right. As is whoever this Hannah person is.
Bewildered, Enid scratches invisible lint off her forehead.
U are American but never heard of Hannah Montana? The Disney show?
You've never heard of Miley Cyrus???
Kinda crazy tbh 🥴
Seen
I am interested in older media. I was raised with a television, but I only watched old war and torture documentaries when I wasn't indulging in The Munsters on Saturday mornings. Music is more of my area of expertise.
Are u Mormon or smth?
Seen
No. I am not affiliated with religion.
Oh wow. Wednesday is the same. She doesn't believe in the afterlife but wishes she could visit hell
I fear she would steal the devil's spot
Seen
Wednesday? Who is that?
"Fuck," Enid swears to herself. "Too far, Enid. You idiot."
My roomie. It's just a nickname tho
Seen
What an odd nickname to give someone.
Idk that's just what I call her
Seen
Interesting.
But I never say it in my videos. So if u comment u cannot refer to her like that
I have to respect her boundaries
U can only call her my roomie pls don't call her by her name 🙏
Seen
Of course. You are a good friend to her.
She's a good friend to me too
I know ppl are weirded out by her being blacked out in my vids
But she is a good person and I will always respect her boundaries if she wants to stay off the internet
Seen
She is very fortunate to have someone compassionate and understanding like you.
I know 😁
Seen
The shower turns on, startling Enid out of her skin. When she looks up from her phone, Thing has escaped through the window and is air drying on the balcony, having left his mess behind. She can hear Wednesday puttering around in the bathroom, likely waiting for the water to cool a bit so her skin doesn't slough right off. The spray of the water pelting the shower floor grounds Enid and brings her back to reality, finally removing her from the intrigue of whoever this Willa person claims to be.
Enid's conversation with Willa seems to have fizzled out for the day, so she puts her phone on the charger and grabs her tangled web of yarn from under her pillow. She settles down against her pillows and works her fingers to the bone, completely ignoring the rest of her TikTok notifications and thinking fondly of Willa's encouragement towards her.
Notes:Don't talk to strangers on the internet, kids.
Chapter 3Summary:It's a day off from classes, and Enid learns more about Willa.
Notes:I did see the season 2 teaser the moment it was released, but I will not be including anything from it in my works until the season is released. I love 100% context for the full experience, so I will wait. And that is if I am still writing for the fandom by that time. Really just depends on my passion and how many ideas I still have to burn.
—Sincerely, Sierra
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextThe next morning is rainy and cold, and it's also a staff in-service day, which means that the students are free to run about without the burden of classes on a weekday. Such things never happened under the careful guidance of Weems. Wednesday absolutely despises the man who replaced her, because he continues to implement silly things and makes up ridiculous student holidays. Even her old public school never had so many days off from education, and they often shut their doors for a simple measles outbreak.
Enid is up early but still in her Hello Kitty pajamas, filming the rain pouring down on their balcony, by the time Wednesday opens her eyes to the sound of thudding overhead. She has the window open a smidge, phone ejected outwards to catch the sight of the downpour. A draft of morning air wafts through the open glass, enveloping Wednesday in a cold embrace that reminds her fondly of a nap in the morgue.
"I was hoping to go shopping today since Wednesdays aren't busy in town, but I guess not…" Enid says to no one in particular, pulling her throw blanket further around her shoulders. "This totally ruined my plans for the day. We only get one in-service day every two months and this is what happens?"
Wednesday gets out of bed and perches on the arm of her leather chair that sits under a large floor lamp on her side of the room, observing Enid with heavy-lidded eyes. She doesn't make a sound, merely curious to see how Enid interacts in her natural habitat. Watching Enid grin with delight and excitedly bounce in place isn't the nightmare it used to be.
"I guess I should head to breakfast now," Enid tells the camera, flipping it around to face her instead. She quietly shuts the window, muffling the sound of the rain angrily flooding the balcony and preventing the spray of rainfall from destroying the floor more than Thing did last night with Enid's nail polish. "I'll probably bring it up here. My roomie is still knocked-out in bed, so I'll bring her something, too. She likes sad beige foods, so hopefully they're serving bran muffins. She'll gag if they have fruit in them, though."
"I would prefer dry toast this morning," Wednesday speaks up, arms folded over her chest. Her facial muscles are smooth and taut but her eyelids still feel saggy, barely holding themselves open as she slowly blinks. "No butter or margarine. Extra burnt. Crustless if possible."
"Holy shit!"
Enid stops filming, almost flinging her phone across the room at whoever said that. She spins around and slumps against the wall with a hand over her heart that's beating out of her chest.
"Don't do that to me, Wednesday!" she scolds. "You move like a cat!"
"I didn't want to interrupt your delusional idea that the world is going to fall madly in love with you through a screen," Wednesday coolly says, getting up from her perch. "I have no plans for the day. Even fencing has been cancelled by Mr. Crowley. It seems I won't be having a rematch with Bianca today. I hope he is happy; he has ruined the entirety of my afternoon by calling for last-minute in-service."
Enid is halfway listening to her, distracted only by the ridiculous nightgown that makes Wednesday look like a Victorian child carrying a candlestick to their parents' gravesite in the middle of the night. It's incredibly frumpy and boxy. The sleeves awkwardly puff at the shoulders and the neckline is baggy enough to put Wednesday's front assets at risk of spilling out.
She shakes her head, trying not to think about any of Wednesday's assets.
"Maybe if the rain dies down, we can go into town together or something," she offers Wednesday. "I know how you feel about the Weathervane, but I'm sure we can go somewhere else for coffee or something. Or just take a walk through town while it's still quiet and everyone is at work and school and stuff. It's almost your birthday, you know."
"I'm aware that I'm almost one year closer to death's welcoming embrace," Wednesday says, picking at the ugly ruffles on her sleeves. "I don't understand how that is relevant to anything happening today."
"I'm trying to be nice. I'm offering you whatever you want today. Like an early birthday thing, since your birthday is on Friday and we have class," Enid replies, rocking back and forth on her heels. She smiles warmly at Wednesday, whose expression is still constipated and tight with discontent. Her smile full of sunlight fades into a frown of disappointment. "Or not. It's your choice."
Pausing for just a second, Wednesday lets her face soften. "Let's have breakfast, and then we can decide afterwards."
"So it's not a no." Enid perks up, now beaming at Wednesday with a grin that makes Wednesday feel physically sick to her stomach. "I gotta film some content while I'm getting ready. If you're done before me, I guess you can go downstairs and save me a spot."
"I will wait for you," Wednesday says with conviction, her big eyes staring at the scars on Enid's face. "I'm not exactly in a hurry to be forced into conversation with whichever of your friends has decided to crawl out of bed so early in the morning."
Enid self-consciously turns her unblemished cheek, hiding the flaws that people on the internet continue to point out through heinous comments. Wednesday often stares, and Enid is used to to look of absolute guilt that paints her face when she looks at the scars, but with the scrutiny she's had to deal with and delete from existence, she's suddenly much more uncomfortable with eyes—even ones as familiar as Wednesday's—perceiving the aftermath of battle.
"You don't have to, if you're ready to go," Enid replies quietly.
"I will wait," she continues to insist. "I also have to prepare for the day."
"If you're sure," Enid says with a shrug, her shoulders suddenly relaxing. "I'll be super quick, okay?"
Wednesday nods, already going to her closet to find an appropriate outfit for the weather. She moves smoothly but almost excitedly, rummaging around in her collection of dresses and casual attire that somehow costs an absurd amount of money just for her to get dirty and dig up dead people in.
While Wednesday is busy selecting a comfortable yet reasonable outfit, Enid takes her phone into the bathroom with her and props it up against her skincare products.
"My roomie and I are gonna have breakfast in the cafeteria, since it's raining, and we might go into town later if the rain stops," she tells the camera, wetting her toothbrush. "We have a day off from classes today, so I'm gonna try to get some shopping done before the weekend. It's getting cold outside, and I wanna go swimming at the lake one last time on Saturday before I freeze my literal tail off."
She narrates her skincare routine, showcasing all of the products she uses, which Wednesday often refers to as "a ridiculously expensive waste of money" and "skin-peeling chemicals that accelerate the aging process."
If you want to age ten years, just stand under an afternoon sun and wait, Wednesday says every time she finds Enid applying yet another product to her skin.
Enid giggles to herself, stopping the camera as she finishes up with her makeup. A knock at the bathroom door startles her, and she turns her head to find a shadow lingering from under the door.
"Enid, if you want to age ten years, just stand under an afternoon sun and wait," Wednesday complains from the other side. "I would like to use the bathroom, too."
—
Breakfast is a quiet, comfortable affair. Wednesday and Enid sit alone, nestled together at a table in the corner of the cafeteria. Enid has a plain bagel lathered in cream cheese growing stale on her plate as she works on editing her morning routine, and Wednesday picks away at a bran muffin that was likely reheated in the microwave and served to her as a leftover from yesterday. They arrived later than usual, and the only pieces of dry toast left were either too light to be considered such or the misshapen butt end of the loaf that Wednesday has a secret phobia of.
It's the first chance Enid has gotten to properly review her comments and new follows since last night. She scrolls through a few profiles of people who followed her overnight, blocks a couple for posting inappropriate content as grown men on the internet, and replies to a few comments on her video of herself making Wednesday's snood at the last minute.
She's so immersed in the overwhelming amount of attention, she neglects to realize that someone has messaged her on TikTok. When she finally notices, she quickly flocks to it, taking stock of her surroundings as she tucks her phone closer to her chest. Wednesday is preoccupied with a spell book, blatantly ignoring Enid's faint giggling at her phone, flipping a page between bites of bran.
Enid isn't too surprised to find that the message is from Willa. Willa sent it half an hour ago, and Enid isn't sure how she managed to miss it when she's been on the app for awhile this morning.
The snood came along quite nicely. You must be a professional.
Oh hi again. I'm not a pro, just practicing
I follow a lot of crochet and knitting ppl to get ideas
Wednesday's eyes suddenly widen a bit as she looks up and zeroes in on the back of someone's head from afar. Her book is open to the fifth chapter, her bran muffin tilted and half-eaten on a napkin.
"What's wrong?" Enid asks her, laying a careful hand on the bone of Wednesday's shoulder. It's stiff and unmoving. "Are you having a vision?"
Wednesday's visions have come few and far between these days, but Enid isn't usually surprised when she notices the light go out in those brown eyes. Wednesday claims they've been happening less and less with the threat of Tyler and Laurel mostly out of her hair, but a lot of them manifest in the form of terrifying flashbacks of Crackstone and her bleeding out in the crypt. She has yet to tell Enid as much, fearing being perceived as a damsel in distress, and so she doesn't elaborate too much.
"Wednesday?"
Turning her head, Wednesday looks at Enid, glancing once at the hand that cups her shoulder. "Yes?"
"You just zoned out again," Enid says, pitifully pouting at her as she removes her hand. "You having visions?"
"No," she replies, noting her smartphone that buzzed against her thigh just a moment ago. "I have to use the restroom."
"The bran is running right through you?" Enid giggles.
"Yes," Wednesday says, standing up with her book under one arm and gathering up her trash in her hand. "I suppose you might have plans?"
"Not really," she responds. "I told you we could go into town. Unless you don't really want to. That's okay, too."
Enid hates the way she always sounds so indifferent and insecure around Wednesday. She always allows Wednesday to take the lead, always lets her make the final decision, always asks her to choose for the both of them. Letting Wednesday set the tone is usually simpler, because a happy Wednesday equals a happy life, but there are days she feels like scooping up her morose roommate and dragging her into town on a bright sunny day for an afternoon of shopping and coffee.
"Meet me in our room after you are done with breakfast," Wednesday says, shockingly easily. "We'll go into town, but only on the condition that I'm allowed to leave once my skin starts to peel."
"Deal," Enid immediately agrees, grinning up at Wednesday.
With that, Wednesday hurries away, tossing her trash into a nearby trash can and carrying her book out of the cafeteria. She's gone before Enid can properly blink, leaving the werewolf sitting alone and only in the company of her half-empty plate of waffles.
Picking up her fork, Enid stabs into her scrambled eggs and eats quietly but efficiently, rushing through the rest of her meal. She supposes all of her friends are otherwise occupied or taking advantage of having a weekday off from classes. She rarely ever eats alone—because Wednesday is likely glued to her side or Yoko is here for a morning gossip session—and the empty feeling of the seat next to her is quite depressing.
Her phone lights up, catching her attention. She swallows the last of her eggs, and picks up her pinging phone, only first noticing the TikTok notifications and not the texts from the group chat she has with Yoko and Divina.
She has an unread DM from Willa.
I'm sure your roommate will appreciate the birthday gift. You are being quite affectionate to her.
Enid smiles a bit, typing a reply.
She hates when I make a big deal about her bday
But I wanna show her that she's special and means a lot to me yk?
Seen
I understand.
Are you giving it to her as a replacement for the admission of your feelings?
Enid's smile falters a bit. She remembers setting the boundary last night, to not discuss this with a stranger online, but she can't imagine that it could do any harm to open up about it a little, so she pushes aside the nagging voice telling her to use caution.
Maybe
But like, I gave one to her last year and it was just friendly
It's literally identical to the first one
Sooooooo it's not like she's gonna know 🤷♀️
Seen
You seem to genuinely care for her if you're putting in so much effort to please her.
Ofc I care about her
She's my roomie and my bff
Well one of my bffs
But I spend more time with her just bc we live in the same room
Seen
You did a great job on the snood for her. She would be a fool to not be grateful about it.
Oh thanks
I do try to make her happy but she literally hates happiness
So I just do things I think she will enjoy
I just want her to be happy or sad or whatever she likes to feel more
Seen
How considerate of you. She is fortunate to have found you.
Well it wasn't exactly her choice
Her parents brought her here last year bc she wasn't cut out for public school
And they're like insanely rich so it's easy for them to just dump her here as long as they want
But her parents are super cool. Creepy but cool
Seen
She must be quite a spoiled brat then.
Enid huffs a little. It's not the first time someone has assumed such of Wednesday, but she's tired of defending Wednesday's honor against people who've yet to experience the Addams charm.
Not really
She doesn't really flaunt her insane wealth
Like her clothes are super expensive or handmade
But she doesn't really spend a ton of money
I spend a lot more and I'm not rich
My grandparents pay for my tuition but no one knows that
Seen
Not even your roommate?
Nah. It's not important yk?
Seen
Do you think she will mock you for not being generationally wealthy and financially gifted?
Uhhhh idk she doesn't seem like the type to be mean about it
She's mean to me in other ways that I like
Seen
What are you referencing?
Sometimes she insults my fashion choices or like that I wear pink a lot
And she bitches at me for blinding her with my jewelry
And tells me that my perfume tiggers her period bc her body needs a cleanse after smelling it
She thinks it bothers me but actually I think it's cute 😍
Seen
Willa stops typing just long enough for Enid to drink the rest of her lukewarm orange juice, and then another message appears.
She sounds awful to handle.
She is not awful
That's kinda rude to say tbh but I get it
She is an aqreuired taste or whatever
Seen
The word you are looking for is "acquired."
And that is a very odd way to describe a person.
U don't know her so u cannot judge at all
Just trust me ok?
She's not awful
Well ig she is to other ppl but they don't know her charm
U have to really know her to understand yk?
Seen
I suppose so. I trust your judgement about her.
When are you planning to gift the snood to her?
Her birthday is Friday
So I guess I'll give it to her after class or smth
Seen
Friday the 13th. What a lovely birthdate.
Yeah I tried making that reference to her and she didn't really understand why it's funny 🙄
Like I said she is media illiterate
But it's her charm and her truth
Seen
You find that annoying.
Wdym?
Seen
There is a lengthy pause before Willa starts typing.
The emoticon you used. It's rolling its eyes, which conveys annoyance.
Baffled, Enid giggles to herself.
EMOJI
And I'm joking
Yk not all emojis are taken seriously right?
Seen
Oh. Well, I assumed you were annoyed by her lack of media literacy.
Ofc not!
She's special but not in the mean way
Seen
Mean way?
Yk when ppl say someone is "special" but they're actually calling you "slow" or the R word.
I don't mean it like that
I mean she's actually special to me bc she is unique 😁
Seen
You are positively smitten.
If u knew her u would totally get it
She is only soft around certain ppl
Mostly just me and her lil bro and this one kid here
But it's sooooooo cute when she's going soft 🥺
She does this little nose twitch when she's mad and I think it's so cute
Seen
One day you two will have found each other in the way you desire.
Hmmm idk abt all that
I can't explain it bc u don't know her
But it won't work :(
Seen
Never doubt yourself or your abilities.
While Enid is thinking of something to say, she is startled out of her skin by someone plopping into the seat across from her. She looks up with haste, putting her phone to sleep and discarding it next to her plate that's on the verge of growing bacteria after how long she's spent talking to Willa.
Yoko is there, stirring electrolyte powder into her blood glass. Her bed head is askew in a dark purple and black halo around her head, and she's still in her sweatpants and Poe Cup t-shirt that has on odd stain on the left shoulder. Enid raises a concerned eyebrow at her.
"I've never seen you mix your blood with anything," she points out to Yoko, gesturing to the powder. "You look like shit. Did you get poisoned again?"
"No, but Divina was puking all during the night," Yoko mumbles, pushing her glasses further up her nose. Enid has to assume that her eyes are puffy. "She puked on my bed. I put down my spare sheets, then she puked on those, too."
"Is she preggo? Did you do magic to make it happen?" Enid asks. "Am I gonna be an auntie?"
Yoko slides her glasses off, glaring at Enid with dark red irises. "You are so fucking funny. No, she and Kent were at the lake and were playing with frogs. They carry salmonella, which is what I think she has, because Kent said his stomach hurts, too. His isn't as bad, but he has chills and a fever."
"That's kinda disgusting," Enid says, sticking out her tongue. "That doesn't explain the electrolytes in the blood."
"I'm exhausted, okay?" Yoko sips her blood through a straw, lazily propping herself up on one elbow. "It was an all-night thing. She slept for half an hour, puked, slept an hour, puked, tossed and turned and clung to me for awhile, puked. Finally it stopped coming out one end and started coming out the other. So that was fun. Eventually I ran out of sheets, towels, and clean shirts for me to wear. So now I'm just wearing this and hoping no one can smell it."
Enid gathers up what's left of her breakfast, clutching her abdomen. The thought of vomit and other bodily fluids makes her queasy.
"That is fucking disgusting," she complains. "TMI. I don't need to know that she's tearing up your bathroom."
"She's starting to feel a little better, but only marginally," Yoko sighs, wiping blood from her lips with the pad of her thumb. "I told her that if her fever doesn't go down by lunchtime, I was gonna take her down to the infirmary. She needs fluids but even the thought of drinking makes her sick."
"That sucks."
"Yeah, but she'll be fine. It's not the first time she's had it. She loves frogs and turtles. But it looks like we can't go into town like we planned. Someone needs to stay with her, and I'm not sure Kent is exactly up to it when he's also shitting his brains out," Yoko sympathetically says, patting Enid's arm. "I suppose you ate alone?"
Enid absentmindedly shrugs. "Wednesday was here earlier, but the bran muffin was running right through her, so she left."
"Ugh, no more talk about poop. I'm sick!" Yoko holds up a hand, putting her head on the table for a moment before looking back up at Enid. "You were so giggly earlier. You didn't even notice that I was waving at you from across the room. Don't tell me Addams finally learned how to work an iPhone and was texting you from the toilet."
"No!" Enid quickly says. "I was just responding to comments and stuff."
"Sure," Yoko hums with a hint of tease in her voice. "If you and Addams are finally getting closer and admitting to yourselves that if looks could make babies, you'd have a minivan full, I'd say it's progress. You two are close. She trusts you. I can totally see it in the way she looks at you like you're the best—or worst—thing she's ever seen. Same difference with her."
Enid pauses, staring at a poster just above Yoko's head. She thinks about what Willa said this morning, in the message that Yoko interrupted, about how she shouldn't doubt her abilities. Oftentimes, she wonders what would happen if she never tells Wednesday how she feels about her, if she suppresses her urges and the desire to tell Wednesday that she is more than just important or special to her, if they leave Nevermore with things unsaid. A lot of the time, it ends with Enid feeling sick to her stomach or crying herself to sleep.
"I literally wasn't talking to her," she finally tells Yoko. "I was engaging with my followers. That's all."
Yoko puts her empty glass aside and picks a stale piece of waffle off Enid's plate. "Your followers make you grin so wide you could scare away children?"
"Yes," Enid replies with conviction. "One of them DM'd me."
"You're talking to strangers on the internet?" Yoko shakes her head in disapproval. "I told you not to do that if you blow up on TikTok. People are weird and there's a lot of weird men that like schoolgirls. You're giving the perverts schoolgirl fantasy content to jack off to."
Enid gives her a pout. "No, it's just a girl. The one that was defending me against the haters all the time. Her name is Willa. She was just saying that I did a good job on the snood. That's all."
She conveniently neglects to mention that she initiated contact with this Willa person, but that isn't imperative to the situation.
"Just be careful, Enid," Yoko warns. "You never know who someone really is behind a screen, especially someone with no content on their profile. It could be anyone. And with everything you and Wednesday went through last year…" She hesitates, surveying the sudden tension on Enid's face. "I care about you, okay? And believe it or not, I care about Wednesday, too. I can see she's struggling under all that weird shit she's got going on. She puts up a front to hide it, but I see it. Don't put yourself or her in a situation you can't get out of, especially knowing that the monster is only locked up and not dead."
It takes awhile to sink in, but Enid eventually nods. "Okay. I understand. I'll be careful. I swear."
Yoko goes to say something, but her phone buzzes. She picks it up, holding it in the air. Enid hears muffled sniffling from the other end of the line.
"I just threw up on your shoes," Divina snuffles. "Sorry."
"Shit," Yoko curses, bolting out of her seat.
"Not shit. Throw-up."
Giving Enid an affectionate pat on the head and obscurely gesturing to the empty glass on the table, Yoko runs out of the cafeteria.
With Enid alone to ruminate, she grabs her phone again, needing some sort of entertainment to keep herself occupied so her brain won't revert to Wednesday's big eyes and endearing yet strange smile.
She has an unread DM on TikTok, and of course, it's Willa.
Did I say something wrong?
Enid decides that what Yoko doesn't know, won't hurt her.
No ur good
My friend yoko came to sit with me for a min
Seen
Oh, alright. I had assumed that I'd said something unbecoming.
I understand that you have boundaries.
Nope it's fine
Can I ask u a question?
Seen
Of course.
Why do u talk so properly and u always use grammar?
Not tryna be mean or anything
Just curious
Seen
There is a hitch in the conversation, so long that Enid assumes that she offended Willa. She goes to apologize for being so crass, but then Willa starts typing.
I prefer it. I understand that most use internet slang, but I prefer to use proper spelling and grammar.
Oh ok
That's cool
I only ask bc I never see it
I hope u don't mind that I don't use grammar
Seen
I don't. I expected as much when I decided to utilize the internet.
I only sincerely hope that you are using proper punctuation and grammar when you are doing assignments.
Oh yeah ofc I do
My roomie helps me sometimes
She's a writer
Seen
A writer? As in, an author? Or an amateur?
Well she wrote a novel and got rejected by an editor once
But she was even younger then so idk what else she wanted
But she's super super smart and writes a lot
Seen
Have you read any of her work?
She keeps it private but I kinda understand the plot
A lot of the time I'm being quiet on camera is bc I'm trying not to bother her during her writing hour
Seen
How kind of you. You must truly care for her if you're willing to tiptoe around her.
Eh I guess
I don't want her to kill me in my sleep
Even tho that's just her being sweet
Seen
What an interesting character she is. It's a pity the world cannot meet her. She sounds absolutely delightful and perfect.
However, I understand the boundary. I'm a private person myself.
Something akin to jealousy brews inside of Enid.
I'm not gonna post her
She's mine
Seen
She waits a minute, then two, then three, and finally, she figures that Willa isn't going to respond to her, so she picks up her tray and Yoko's glass, rushing out of the cafeteria and towards Ophelia Hall with every intention of making today the best for Wednesday, even if they have to stand in the rain until they get sick.
Notes:Enid is truly an idiot lmao
I absolutely love your comments. They make me laugh so fucking much.