Chapter Text
Back at it like a crack addict, Mr. Black Magic
Crack a bitch back, chiropractic, craftmatic
Big daddy smokin' big Cali in a black alley
In a black Grand Natty rollin' down Old Natty
Enid was frozen outside the door. Where loud modern music was nothing new to their room, it was usually herself that chose to listen to it. Her roommate usually stuck to smooth old songs penned by artists Enid couldn't name with a gun to her head. To hear something so familiar coming from the room, if she didn't know better, she'd think Wednesday had a guest over. That was a silly thought, of course. Even if Wednesday was in the business of inviting people to the room, it was her writing time. Enid didn't know how long she had stood there, but she did put her ear up to the door to get a closer listen.
I got one round left a hunnid cops outside
I could shoot at them or put one between my eyes
Chose the latter it don't matter it ain't suicide
And if the news says it was, that's a goddamn lie
I can't let the pigs take me, I got too much pride
And I meant it when I said they'll never take me alive
Well that explained it a little bit. Slightly political, definitely violent, that was right up her roommate's alley. Still, she would have expected something more, what was the word, elegant?
After a few more seconds, and some unconvincing fake footsteps, Enid opened the door to their shared room to see Wednesday reclined on her gray bed.
"I know fake footsteps when I hear them."
Enid was worried now. Wednesday took her writing time very seriously.
"Are you doing okay, Wednesday?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You aren't writing."
"My writing time ended two minutes ago, when I would estimate you first got to the door."
Enid had been standing at their door for both longer and shorter than she thought. She stood for a moment at the center of the room where the black duct tape once lay and stared for a moment.
"Enid."
"Hm?"
"You're staring."
"Oh, sorry."
Enid did not stop staring. It was getting to the point she could tell Wednesday was getting uncomfortable, which was not a common occurrence.
"Enid, if you are trying to make me understand why staring at people makes them uncomfortable I can assure you that it is working."
"Sorry, I just… I just have a question."
"Then ask it."
But Enid did not ask it. She just stood there continuing to stare questioningly at her roommate who had by this point shifted in her bed.
"Enid, I can't read your mind, ask me your question."
"Okay, sorry, it's just, when did you start listening to rap?"
"Rap?"
"Yeah, like what you're listening to right now."
"You mean rhythm and poetry?"
Such a Wednesday response , Enid thought to herself. Something so weird yet so informative. That didn't answer her asked question, but it did answer her real question. Why was Wednesday listening to rap? Well, it was poetry, and Wednesday did like poetry.
"Yes, Wednesday, rhythm and poetry, when did you start listening to it?"
"Three days after I got home from Nevermore last semester. My brother got really into rhythm and poetry when I left for here and he was listening to a poet called MF Doom. Where I wasn't thrilled about some of the lyrical themes, he had a command over the english language that was admirable. Especially his line about methylenedioxymethamphetamine."
"What?"
"I think you call it molly."
"No, not that, you got this into rap over the break?"
"I never do anything partially."
Of course. This was the most off brand, but weirdly on brand thing Wednesday had ever done. Like rap, but listen to it under the pretenses of it being poetry. Well, okay, it was, but that wasn't why anybody listened to it. What else had she picked up on from modern culture? What else was Wednesday Addams doing that could be remotely considered normal?
—
"Guys, you're not gonna believe this."
It was lunch time, and Enid was with her usual crew. This usual crew now consisting of Yoko, Xavier, Ajax, Bianca, and Eugene. Wednesday was usually around them, but quiet and fashionably late. Eugene was really only there because of Wednesday and Enid.
"Believe what, Enid?" Bianca said in her usual annoyed tone. She and the rest of the group were used to hearing Enid state things the Addams girl was doing as if they were entirely unprecedented. Most of the time, it made absolute sense.
"I came back to my room and Wednesday was listening to rap music."
The whole table stared at her as if she was mumbling. They obviously knew what she had said, but in disbelief, Xavier was the first to query.
"Are you sure it wasn't some weird spoken-word album?"
"No, it was rap. I think it went something like, oh god, what was it? Back at it like a crack addict, something something chiropractic, craftmatic?"
"Wait, you mean to tell me that Wednesday Addams listens to Run the Jewels?" Ajax questioned in a similar tone to a shrimp fried rice joke.
"I don't know who Run the Jewels is."
"Yes, Ajax, I do," a familiar dour voice contributed.
"But why?" Ajax asked the now present goth.
"El P has a grasp of concepts and theory that is complementary to Killer Mike's personal experiences. It is a symbiotic relationship among the two."
The whole table stared Wednesday. She spoke words that everyone understood, but to come from her was like hearing a man named Billy Bob speak perfect french.
"I'm going to eat alone today, too many people keep staring at me."
With that, Wednesday made her way away from the table to where the group could only assume was her room or some bench in a corner. Either way, they were all still reeling from the exchange that had just happened. Not only did Wednesday listen to rap, but she spoke of it with the same ease you would expect from a music journalist. If it wasn't Wednesday, they would wonder if she had a secret music blog somewhere. Actually, with it being Wednesday, she could have a full blown film franchise and they wouldn't know it was her. It was a wild thing to think about. Wednesday, the girl they all thought they knew so well, still surprising them.
None felt these feelings more than Enid. As cool as it was that Enid might now be able to find things she could relate to Wednesday with, she also felt a sort of betrayal. She didn't know why. Wednesday never made a big deal about things she didn't think were a big deal, the obvious nature of that thought not being lost on her. She just figured that Wednesday would want to share it with her? She didn't know, and at this point, Enid felt she was probably projecting. Wednesday doesn't do intimacy, be it romantic or just friendly. If it is something relevant, she'll mention it, otherwise why waste the breath. That's right, that's just how Wednesday was. There was no need to go into more detail.