Chapter Text
The Weathervane was arguably the most popular hangout area in Jericho. Sitting down at tables or booths with friends, family, or even lovers, sipping peacefully on a delicious roast. It was warm, colorful but dulltoned enough that it didn’t strain the eyes.
Wednesday Addams worked at the Weathervane, forced to by her parents so she could learn to be more ‘tolerable’ of people. As though people were any less tolerable than a circus. She had her coworkers, though most just let her down her own thing, scared of the girl dressed in a black uniform and glaring eyes.
Customers were almost always hesitant in giving her their order, seemingly afraid she’d slip something into it. Not that she hadn’t thought about that before, though that was for a particularly rude customer.
Before being hired here, Wednesday used to come in the minute it opened, get her quad shot of espresso, and sit in the corner, typing away on her typewriter. After two months, they’d offered to hire her, and she had only stared. Only after telling her parents about it, and expecting them to laugh with her at their offer, they’d told her to take the opportunity, saying it’d be good for her.
So now she worked at the Weathervane, occasionally alongside an annoying brunette boy who she’d forgotten the name of several times. Wednesday only knew him for his mistakes and bad qualities, like how he couldn’t fix the espresso machine, or spilled steamed and frothed milk all over the counter. He had even mixed up Hazelnut and Nutella flavoring for coffee! The fool.
Wednesday found herself covering a shift today, on top of her own, the coworker having called out from some illness, weak-willed as always. It was 8 am on a Saturday, meaning she’d be working until noon, where she’d have a break, and then come back at 2 pm to finish the day off.
To pass the time, as the early morning rush had ended and the morning rush would begin soon, Wednesday idly washed the mugs and cups. Running her rag through them like a bartender doing a quick once-over, they had been through the dishwasher, but no one wanted dish water in their mug or cup.
A shrill ding resonated through the shop, and Wednesday held back a sigh as she finished the cup she was drying. She set the glass down, turning sharply and walking to the register. In front of her stood a slightly taller blonde woman. The tips of her hair were dyed pink and blue, a blue that only complimented her somehow blue-er eyes. Her grin was wider than Wednesday thought was even possible on a person.
Behind her, were two more people, one seemingly paler girl with circular glasses and black hair, and the other, a man in a beanie, not a single strand of hair in sight.
They were nothing compared to her.
Bright was the easiest way to put it, like the north star, or a splash of white in a completely dark room, overbearing led lights. Everything around her was dull, she took up all the color in the room, practically absorbing it.
Then time resumed, and Wednesday was snapped back into reality, how the colors burned her eyes like a distasteful romance story. She maintained a flat expression, a stare that told a story about murder as she looked at the trio. “How can I help you?”
Her voice clearly spooked them, monotone to match the daggers in her eyes. The two in the back appeared uneasy, she, was not.
“Hi!” Even her voice was an ear-piercing tone, pitched at such a quality Wednesday was surprised a dog didn’t start howling in agony, “My friends will have,” her voice droned on with their orders, involving Wednesday asking the usual questions about sizes, cold or hot, and here or to-go.
It was so fast that Wednesday hadn’t even noticed that the girl had begun to lean against the counter and towards her. When she did, she leaned back, scowling. They were unphased.
“And your order?” Wednesday spoke, an impatient tone underlying her words. The girl only brightened further, grin somehow getting wider, it almost seemed like her eyes sparkled, like a cartoon.
She gave her order, a surprisingly simple iced mocha with extra mocha, medium. Before Wednesday could ask for her name, the girl spoke first, “So, how long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you around in the mornings.” Her voice was sickly sweet, and Wednesday repressed the urge to gag at just how sweet it sounded.
It felt as though cavities had already forced their way into her teeth as she cordially responded, “I’ve been here for two months now, I don’t work mornings.” In contrast to the blonde girl, her voice remained flat, clearly uninterested. “Can I get a name for the order?”
“Oh right! The name’s Enid! And that’s Yoko,” she pointed to the girl in glasses, “and Ajax!” and then to the boy. She seemed almost oblivious to Wednesday’s glare, or willfully ignorant. Unexpectedly, Wednesday felt as though her coffin of a heart had actually beat when Enid had introduced herself and pointed to her friends. She immediately assumed it was out of a vehement hatred for how bright the girl was.
Wednesday nodded idly, getting the payment through rather quickly and with minimal words. The three walked away as Wednesday turned around, quickly getting to work on their orders. In the background, muffled by the sound of the espresso machine, she could hear them conversing, but couldn’t make out the words.
The drinks were done quickly, the orders thankfully weren’t too complicated. Wednesday walked to the counter, placing the to-go drinks down. She leaned over the counter, staring at the three who were still talking by the tables. The blonde girl, or Enid, was leaning against the table, two hands on it, leaning forward, while the other two were sitting opposite of each other. From her spot, it appeared as though they were having a ‘capturing’ conversation with how the blonde girl giggled and twirled her hair.
Loudly, she cleared her throat, getting the attention of the girl in glasses. Her head had shifted in her direction, and Wednesday could only assume she’d seen her and the cups. She turned, grabbing her cloth and going back to work at drying the cups.
“Thank you!” Came the overly cheerful voice from the counter, “Have a nice day!” A giggle followed the words, and Wednesday ground her teeth together, not bothering to look at them as she waved, keeping her eyes on the cups. The bell to the door chimed again, and the sound of footsteps became distant as it audibly closed.
Suddenly the morning shift seemed worse than ever, and Wednesday made a mental note to never cover the shift again.