Work Text:
Enid Sinclair had had a horrible couple of months. The worst she'd had since she moved to Los Angeles to pursue her dream of being an actress, in fact.
In different days but equally catastrophic, she was almost fired from the cafeteria she worked at for skipping another shift to go to another audition, (which had turned out badly, by the way). And someone had spilled their coffee on her and ruined her best shirt. And a girl with an air of superiority in a vintage black car had honked at her in a traffic jam.
And when she thought one shitty day could finish with a brighter note and she could finally have a moment of happiness and peace in that damn city, when she had heard a beautiful piano melody coming from a restaurant she was passing by and had decided to be somewhat positive and thank the pianist, said musician just rudely bumped her when she walked out the door and didn't even apologize. The audacity of some people!
To sum up, Enid felt like shit.
Tonight, some friends had begged her to go to some party, but she just wasn't in the mood. She wanted to sulk and pity herself, maybe watch one of those movies that she’d like to work on so much one day.
But after much thought, Enid had decided to go. It was Los Angeles on a Saturday and she was an actress, so who knows if she just had to be at the right time in the right place to meet her destiny? Perhaps at that party she’d made the necessary contact to catapult her career to stardom. What if that little chance encounter could be the one?
So after much thought, she had put on her best yellow dress and had gone out clicking her heels towards her car, ready to rock the party.
She started the evening with excitement but soon found herself very disappointed, seeing that it was just full of aspiring franchise scriptwriters with airs of grandeur. Her friends had given up very soon on gaining anything out of that place, and decided to just get drunk and hook up with some random guy just to pass the time.
But Enid had gone there to do business, for goodness sake!
At least she could dance a little before calling it a night and getting back to her car. She approached the dance floor, where an attempted band was playing cheesy covers of pop songs. She thought it would be fun, until she took a closer look at the members on stage and saw the last face she wanted to see.
–
Wednesday Addams had also had a horrible couple of months. The worst she'd had since she moved to Los Angeles to pursue her ambition of becoming a jazz musician, in fact.
She had regained her job as a pianist for the holidays at a restaurant that tried too hard to be fancy. Her boss had insisted that she could only play Christmas carol covers, and that she didn't even think about improvising, not even a little. Jazz was strictly prohibited, of course. And any even closer to creativity was completely out of the question.
She was so tired of covers. What was the point of her playing the same thing over and over again? That's why she had left her classical music career with the cello at the conservatory in the first place.
Wednesday wanted to play something real, that was different every time. Something that created connection instead of repetition. That's why she had taken all her instruments and moved to Los Angeles in search of an opportunity.
An opportunity that had not come, because there she was again.
She had found a months weeks ago an ad for a pop cover band that needed a bassist and she had accepted. They had already done a dozen profitable but regrettable gigs. Unfortunately, her dignity cost less than her rent.
The blessing and curse of having perfect pitch and incredible memory was that the job was extremely easy. The songs they requested were all the same, and after hearing them just once, she basically could play them by heart.
The band had been booked for a gig at a party from some guy who pretended to be more than he was, like everyone else in this city. You invite a bunch of people with minor contracts into the studios and can't afford a decent band? Show-off.
It didn't matter. It was work, it was easy, and as soon as her booked hours were up, Wednesday would go home.
-
Enid looked at the piano girl she had bumped into the other day, now playing the bass on the stage. She was playing the bass with a pair of sunglasses, a black and white suit and her jet black hair combed in two perfect symmetrical braids reflecting in the bright summer Californian sun. Her eyebrows were frowned as she played, and her look was clearly the one of someone not wanting to be there.
The blonde stared at her with an unfriendly expression and their eyes met, but the bassist deliberately ignored her behind her sunglasses. How dare she? Enid huffed angrily, her cheeks flushing with frustration.
The group just played the song (an overly upbeat version of ‘As it was’) and the singer asked the audience for requests. So Enid saw her chance to get her revenge.
She raised her hand quickly and waited for the singer to point at her, quickly searching through her mental repertoire the song that would frustrate that girl with clear gothic and underground vibes the most.
“Blank space!”, she exclaimed with a defiant look at the girl on stage, who couldn't escape her destiny.
The bassist narrowed her eyes at her, clearly annoyed. Certainly she wasn't a swiftie. Enid gave her her biggest, most triumphant smile, and she didn't stop looking at her as she danced and lipsynced to the song.
Sadly, Wednesday had been told repeatedly that even if she didn't smile during performances, at least she’d had to try and look like she didn’t want to die on the spot. It was difficult, as the blonde girl was clearly mocking her and she could only play barely spaced four notes in a loop.
After they finished, Enid gave her one last wink and happily walked away. She deserved a drink after that small victory.
–
Enid was leaning on a windowsill, looking disinterestedly at the party. It had been a while since she knew anything about the friends she had come with, and she really didn't feel like talking to anyone, anyway.
She was honestly just making time to at least pay off the gas that took her to go there.
Suddenly the bassist appeared next to her like an apparition. Her face was just as impassive even without the sunglasses.
“I do remember you”, the girl said in a monotone voice.
She was shorter off stage.
Enid simply raised an eyebrow, hiding her curious smile behind her glass.
“I apologize for being curt that night,” she blurted out in the same tone. It didn't seem like she was very sorry.
"Curt?”, Enid replied, offended. “You were an assshole”.
“Fine. I was an asshole”, the shorter girl shrugged uncomfortably, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and looking around. “I can admit that,” she sputtered, looking down.
“Okay, we're even,” the blonde smiled, offering her hand to shake. "I clearly tortured you enough with my request," she added smugly, tightening her grip.
“Just so you know”, the bassist replied, squeezing equally and narrowing her eyes, “I'm a serious musician”.
“My god", Enid scoffed, scratching her head. “Did you just call yourself ‘a serious musician’?”
“I did”, she replied firmly. “I am”.
“Uh-huh. Anyway, can I borrow what you're wearing?”, the taller girl asked, taking the last sip of her glass.
“Why?”, she scowled in confusion.
“Because I have an audition next week”, Enid replied with a mischievous grin. “A Blues Brothers remake?”, she joked with a wink.
“So you're an actress. That makes sense”, the shorter girl nodded, putting her hands in her pockets. “Have I seen you in anything?”
“Uh…”, Enid hesitated. “The coffee shop on the Warner Bros lot, probably”, she sighed.
“Ah, a barista then”, the bassist clicked her tongue. “Well, it could be worse”.
“I could be playing in a lame cover band?”, the blonde asked amusingly, scrunching her nose.
“Exactly”, the shorter girl scoffed. She showed a genuine half smirk that showed one of her dimples for a millisecond. “What's your name, swiftie?”
“Enid. Enid Sinclair”, she responded with her head held high.
“Alright, Enid Sinclair”, the brunette cleared her throat. “Guess I'll see you in the movies”, she nodded before going back where she came from.
Enid sighed. Maybe she would look for her friends a little more just in case, and if not she would just go home.
How sad, a Saturday night in Los Angeles and she was ditching a party before it even got dark.
–
Enid wanted to go home already. She had gone to the wardrobe and just wanted to grab her jacket and her bag to finally go home, goddammit. But this guy who thought he was the new Christopher Nolan had caught her out and was trying to explain the confusing script for her new, extremely confusing, and non-existent movie.
She just nodded and smiled cordially, being the only strategy she had learned to move through the circles of Hollywood as a chronic people-pleaser. Enid had been trying for a while to end the conversation as soon as he would give her the opportunity to speak, but the guy never shut up, and she was beginning to lose patience.
“Enid!” a voice suddenly exclaimed behind her.
She turned around and there was the bassist girl with her suit jacket in one hand and her bass guitar case in the other. The guy had finally fallen silent for the first time in twenty minutes.
“Enid, I finally found you,” the girl said, looking her straight in the eyes. “I have looked for you everywhere”.
“Oh, yeah?”, the blonde tilted her head, confused.
“Yes, you are my ride home, remember?”, she insisted, clenching jaw. Seeing that Enid was not understanding, she briefly looked at the scriptwriter guy and then back at Enid.
“Oh, yeah! ”, the taller girl exclaimed, nodding. “It's true, pity but I have to go, see ya!”, she said, walking at a fast pace next to the bassist without looking back.
-
They walked up the street in silence, Enid clearly becoming increasingly frustrated by the heels she was wearing, in which she kept tripping over the cobblestones of the sidewalk.
“Those look comfortable,” murmured Wednesday with a raised eyebrow.
“I have a pair of sneakers in my bag,” the blonde huffed, rolling her eyes at her. “I'll change once I get back to the car”. She sighed and rubbed her face tiredly. “Anyway, thanks for saving the day back there”.
The shorter girl clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You clearly seemed uncomfortable with that man and I was an easy way out”, she shrugged. “And it's the least I could do after being such a quote unquote asshole to you”.
Enid hummed and nodded.
“I didn't even ask your name”, she realized.
“Wednesday”, the shorter girl replied. “Wednesday Addams”.
“You've got to be joking”, the blonde scoffed, mouth open.
“Do I look like a person who jokes?”, she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
“Certainly not”, Enid admitted.
Wednesday switched her bass case to her other hand and hung her jacket over her shoulder, hooking it with two fingers.
“I cannot help but think that we've seen each other before”, she suddenly said.
“Yeah, in the restaurant?”, Enid replied, tilting her head.
“No, before that, I mean”, the brunette shook her head. “I think I might have overtook you in a traffic jam. Which one is your car?”
“A white Prius… Wait , were you the one in the vintage black car?” she asked, her voice an octave higher.
“That's why you seemed familiar”, Wednesday exhaled slowly through her nose, lowering her head.
“And to think that I was starting to like you”, the blonde laughed out loud.
“I wouldn't recommend that,” the other replied with a smirk.
A beat of silence.
“Strange that we keep running into each other”, Enid sighed.
“It is strange”, Wednesday replied, clicking her tongue again. “Maybe it means something”.
“I doubt it”, the blonde huffed, looking intently at the parked cars, trying to find hers.
“Yeah, I don't think so either”, the brunette shrugged.
Another beat of silence. Longer, this time. Enid was getting frustrated with her search. And with the awkwardness of the situation.
“So, serious musician, what are you doing in LA?”, she asked in an attempt of small talk.
“Well, serious actress” , she replied, not really looking at her. “I left my classical music career at the New Jersey Conservatory”.
“Piano?”
“Cello”, she corrected her. “And I came here because they told me it's where the best jazz jams were”.
“You're a jazz musician?”, Enid scoffed, shooting her a skeptical look.
“Double bass”, the brunette nodded proudly. “I have it in my apartment. The bass guitar is just some quick money with these types of events”.
“And it’s easier to carry”, the taller girl joked with a smirk.
“Certainly”, Wednesday scoffed.
The musician rolled her eyes but still smirked, showing again a flash of one of her dimples. If you took away that cynical mask that she put on, she didn't seem so bad. Or at least that's what Enid wanted to think. Even after so many disappointments and failures, she always tried to see the positive side, especially in people.
“Anyway, I'm getting a feeling there's something I should tell you”, she started.
“And that is…?”
“I hate jazz”.
Wednesday stopped and abruptly turned on her heels to face her.
“What do you even mean by ‘I hate jazz’?”, she asked as if she was asking her the most serious and important question of her life.
“It means when I listen to it I don't like it”, the taller girl shrugged.
“But it's such a blanket statement”, the brunette scoffed. “It's like saying ‘I hate animals’”.
“I do hate some animals”, Enid replied, gingerly starting to walk again.
“And yet you don't say that ‘I hate animals’”, she pointed out, following her. “Surely your idea of jazz is something mediocre that has corrupted its image forever”.
“If I think of jazz, what comes to my mind is elevator music”, she explained.
“Madre de dios”, she muttered under her breath. “Jazz must be seen live, you must experience it”, she emphasized each word, slightly shaking her head and widening her eyes. “It is a constant dialogue, a conflict, an argument, a love letter that is written and rewritten every time ”.
She then looked at how the blonde was looking at her, and looked away as she straightened her back and cleared her throat.
“Wow, I didn't think you could show so many emotions”, Enid chuckled.
Wednesday didn’t replay and just grumbled under her breath, her eyes boring the changing sidewalk under her feet.
“You can actually be nice when you stop being so arrogant”, the blonde pointed out with a sincere smile.
“Spare your saccharine words”, Wednesday coldly said, narrowing her eyes.
“Wow, okay, geeze”.
Silence returned.
The walk would definitely be faster if Enid remembered where she had parked her damn car. She clicked her keys repeatedly in an attempt to make it beep once they approached it.
“Where the hell’s my car?”, Enid asked out loud to the empty street.
She raised her arm, clicking her keys desperately. Still, no beeping.
“Put the clicker under your chin”, Wednesday said suddenly.
“What?”
“It turns your head into an antenna”, she explained. “Probably kills your brain cells, but you find your car more quickly. You don't live as long, but you get things done faster, so it all evens out”.
“That sounds terrible”, Enid frowned.
“It’s just a suggestion”, she shrugged.
“You're a real… uhm, what’s the word I'm looking for?”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow.
“Weirdo”, Enid replied curtly, but giving her a grin. “ That was the word”.
The brunette was about to reply something, but they turned the bend and found a viewpoint that gave them a wide and perfect view of the entire city, framed with the warm and changing colors of the sunset sky. Both stopped their steps, their mouths slightly open at such an unexpected landscape.
“Not much to look at, huh”, Enid huffed.
She was trying hard not to romanticize the city she once thought was made of dreams.
“Agreed”, Wednesday hummed beside her. “I've seen better”.
She was trying not to get her hopes up because of the only kind, real interaction she'd had with anyone in months.
The girls sighed silently. Both had come to this city for a promise that had not been fulfilled. Both were still waiting for their opportunity without trying not to lose hope.
“The sun is nearly gone, the lights are turning on, a silver shine that stretches to the sea”, Wednesday said looking, her eyes fixed on the horizon orange.
“Are you really reciting a poem right now?” Enid scoffed.
“It was to emphasize the cinematographic potential of this view”, she shrugged.
“What d’you mean?”
“You work for Hollywood, right?”, she replied, placing the bottom of her bass’ case on the floor. “This would be a perfect view for a scene of one of those romantic films that you surely like so much”.
“Bold of you to assume that I like them”, the blonde retorted, looking at her sideways. “I do like them, though. And yeah, this’d be an amazing shot”, she admitted with a dreamy sigh.
Wednesday shook her head and sighed silently, exhaling slowly through her nose. Enid had been so kind to her, when she didn't deserve it. And Wednesday's mind quickly filled with ‘what ifs’, like it always did. Her father's blood ran through her veins, after all. Deep down she was a hopeless romantic, but her reality was filled with unresolved stories and daydreams that could never be.
She had already made up for all the times she had wronged Enid in the past, but she had to get away from the actress before her damaged heart started beating again. If Wednesday destroyed all her own hopes up front, she wouldn't have to suffer in the future. She had learned the hard way a long time ago.
“It would be, but it’s only you and me here. So it’s clearly not one of those films”, Wednesday coldly said as she crossed one leg in front of the other, leaning on the instrument and leaving her jacket hanging from her wrist while she reached into her pocket.
It took Enid a moment to react to her words.
They were ambiguous and she didn't know exactly what they were referring to. Did she mean that the two of them were failures who would not be able to achieve their dreams like the protagonists of those movies? Or was she implying that there would never be anything between them and she didn't try to think about the coincidences of fate that had brought them together more than once?
In any case, they reminded Enid that every time she let her guard down and allowed herself to have a moment of kindness, that damn city had to remind her that she was in a hostile environment, that life would never be kind to her, and to wake up and stop romanticizing every little shitty corner and person that crossed her path.
And who did this girl think she was to suddenly act so haughty? Unbelievable. That city and its people did nothing but disappoint her. She couldn't even have a moment of hope. Enid was so tired of just passing by and not having a voice in anything. A pent-up rage from months (or years, or even a lifetime) flared in her chest and made her jump on the defensive.
“You know what?”, she exploded, staring intently at the other girl’s apparent deadpan face. “Yeah, there's nothing happening here, but I think I'd have a say in that, don't you think? You think you're so above all of us with your polyester suit-”
“Wool”.
“What?”
“The suit”, Wednesday deadpanned, pinching the lapel of her jacket with her fingers. “It's wool”.
“Whatever”, Enid huffed, rolling her eyes. “And perhaps this is the perfect scenario for a girl who believes in love and thinks that everything is like in the movies. I was like that when I moved here, but y’know?”, she turned menacingly to the other girl, who almost flinched at her aggressive tone. “Then life slapped me in the face and I saw the sewers of this city”.
They held their gazes locked for a moment, Enid taking a deep breath and Wednesday trying not to look impressed with the sudden scolding she was receiving.
“So right now all I want is to take off these damn heels that are killing me”, the blonde said, plopping down on the bench and kicking off her shoes angrily. “And I guess it's your lucky night because thanks for helping me and stuff but I know now that you’re as cold as everyone else in this fucking city and I even thought for a moment you were actually kinda sweet but, yeah, thanks for the heads up because I don't really feel nothing”.
“Is that so?” , Wednesday raised an eyebrow.
“Or maybe less than nothing”, Enid added, quickly tying the laces of her sneakers.
“Good to know”, the brunette hummed, gingerly sitting down beside her.
“So yeah, what a waste of a lovely night”, Enid tiredly groaned.
She dropped her bag next to the bench and leaned on her elbows on her knees. She rubbed her face with her hands. She really didn't expect to explode like that and take her anger out on the other girl, but she was so tired, from tonight, from this week, from everything. She would almost feel good if she didn't almost feel like crying.
Wednesday sighed beside her, leaning on the palm of her hands that she had on the edge of the bench.
“I deserved that”, she said.
Enid grumbled something behind her hands.
“But you did not”, Wednesday added. “So I apologize for being an asshole… again”.
The blonde revealed her face and stretched her back, looking at the lights of the already dark horizon.
“I do think you are a good actress”, the shorter girl's voice said from behind her.
“Are you calling me melodramatic?”, Enid scoffed, looking at her.
“No, please don't get me wrong”, Wednesday crossed her stretched legs over her ankles before continuing, fixing her dark eyes on the blonde’s. “You have a wide range. Your face is expressive, your voice is pleasing, your eyes show emotion. And above all it shows that you have something to tell. Not everyone has that”.
She gestured slightly with her hands as she said that, just like when she had talked about jazz. That let Enid know that she spoke with passion and sincerity. It was the first time that no one had said something like that to her.
“Thank you”, she replied in a low voice. She just couldn’t say anything else.
Enid let out a long, tired sigh. She chuckled, turning back to stare at the city.
“Y’know”, she said. “This setting would also be perfect for a musical scene”, she made a rectangle with her fingers and watched through it, winking. “Imagine the main couple dancing, their silhouettes with this light, the choreography around that streetlight”, she turned to look at the amused brunette. “Although you don't look like the kind of person who likes musicals”.
“Although it may not seem like it, I do like them”, she scoffed.
Enid got up and walked to place herself in front of her.
“C’mon then”, she said with a smirk, offering her her hand.
Wednesday took a second to understand her intentions.
“I don’t dance”.
“Anything at all?”, Enid raised her eyebrow, without stopping smiling.
“Occasionally tango and waltz. Definitely not musical material”, Wednesday replied, taking her hand regardless and standing up. “What about you? Anything other than Blank space?”
“You’re unbelievable”, the blonde shook her head disapprovingly, but they were both smiling. “A waltz then. You owe me that at least”.
They stood in the starting position of the dance, raising their hands that were still joined. Wednesday carefully placed her hand on the blonde's waist and Enid placed hers on the shorter girl's shoulder, her thumb brushing the collar of her shirt.
They started slowly at first, following the steps of the waltz as it circled the empty road. Soon they began to let themselves go, following the rhythm in complete synchrony, although there was no melody to guide them, surrounded by silence if it weren't for their shoes on the asphalt, the hum of the streetlight and the beeping of cars down in the city.
Enid took the lead and twirled Wednesday around. The shorter girl followed and with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, she mirrored the movement in the blonde, who let out a loud laugh before returning to her original steps.
“I'm even imagining the soundtrack in my head!”, Enid exclaimed with a wide smile.
“And how is it?”, Wednesday asked, her smile already faded but her lips still relaxed and tilted slightly upward.
“A whole orchestra and a beautiful melody, typical 40s Hollywood musical vibe”.
“Is there room for a little jazz?”, she asked, twirling her around again.
“I guess, but I don't have enough repertoire to come up with something out of the blue”, Enid responded, quickly grabbing the brunette’s waist and dipping her down, who raised her eyebrows in surprise at such a sudden movement
"We'll have to work on that then", Wednesday she responded from her position below her.
Enid picked her up again and they stood holding each other, closer than they had been before they started dancing, breathless and with wide smiles illuminated under the dim, buzzing light of the streetlight.
It took Wednesday a while to realize that she had laughed on the way up. She had almost forgotten what her own laugh sounded like. She hadn't heard that sound in months.
She was about to say something when a new melody appeared, this time outside of their heads. A phone, with an annoying melody, rang from inside the bag forgotten on the bench. Enid's phone.
Shit.
She had completely forgotten about him.
Enid's face changed completely, and she broke away from the embrace to answer the call.
“Ajax, sorry, yeah, didn't see your texts”, she murmured to the phone. Wednesday cleared her throat and looked away, doing her best to give her privacy, but she couldn't help but listen.
“It was fine, but I’m getting home early…”, Enid continued. “No, I don’t know where they are, but it’s fine, I’m with…”, she looked up and the girls' gazes met, “a friend”. Something else was said from the end of the line. Enid nodded and pursued her lips absently. “Yeah, ‘kay, bye.You too”.
She dropped the phone back into her purse and with a tired sigh took out the keys, clicking them once. A beep sounded from across the street, both their faces momentarily illuminated by orange lights.
“Oh, it was just right there”, Enid murmured, pointing at the white Prius only a few steps away from them.
“Here all along”, Wednedssay sighed, taking her jacket and bass case from their place on the bench.
“Well, Wednesday Addams, do you need a ride to your car?”, Enid asked from the middle of the road, tilting her head to her car.
“No, I’m just right up here”, Wednesday dismissed nodding to the street ahead.
The blonde nodded and entered the car, dropping her bag on the backseat. Wednesday crossed the road and handed her her heels, that she had forgotten by the bench. Enid gave her a silent thank you and looked at her from the open window.
“I think I'm gonna give jazz another chance”, she said with a small smile.
“I’m glad to hear that”, Wednesday replied with a smile as well.
Enid opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but shook her head and sighed, starting the car and grabbing the steering wheel with both hands.
“Okay, well. Good night”, she murmured before pulling up the window and getting in the road.
“Good night”, Wednesday replied, almost audible with the engine on.
She took a few steps back to let her out, and watched the car go down the street. She waited a few seconds before returning to the path they had both walked, to go look for her own car which was still parked right in front of the house where the party had been held.
Wednesday sighed once and whistled all her way back, her mind full of melodies of another new dream she could ever make true.
She hated that city, she hated its people, she hated its parties. But this time and only this time, she allowed herself to think that deep down it wasn’t all that bad if their paths might cross again.