Wednesday Addams' Second Personality (Remake)

Chapter 11: Unpretentious melody.



'I ruined everything.' He thought, looking in the direction Thing had gone after flipping him off.

If he were in a game with an affection counter, the Thing counter would probably be negative by now.

Tuesday put his hand to his face, trying to hide his trembling lips that nearly cracked his mask.

Without Thing, only Lurch was left.

He remembered Lurch's intimidating face and massive frame. Despite his calm aura, he looked like someone who belonged in a psychiatric hospital for violent criminals.

Was he the best option available?

Tuesday questioned himself, denying his own reality.

How should he even start the conversation?

He'd never heard Lurch say a single word.

What if Lurch simply ignored him? That would be better than facing hatred, but it wouldn't satisfy Wednesday's request.

He spent a long time staring blankly into space, imagining countless scenarios, but in the end, it was futile.

"Whatever."

Nothing would be solved standing there alone.

Besides, it was dangerous to linger any longer. He didn't want to attract unnecessary attention.

The best approach was to resolve this situation as quickly as possible.

Tuesday moved towards the stairs to the first floor, but before long, he stopped.

"♫..."

A melancholy melody reached his ears, soft and haunting.

It was slow and serene, but it stirred something nostalgic and emotional within him.

In all his time there, he hadn't heard a single melody.

There wasn't much entertainment in the Addams mansion besides books.

He hadn't expected to hear a melody here, especially one not of his own making.

Curiosity sparked in his eyes.

His previously hesitant feet began moving toward the music.

"♫~"

The song grew louder, and he could focus more on its details.

It was definitely a piano piece. The pacing between the notes was good, but something felt incomplete.

It was as if the pianist had forgotten some of the notes in the middle of the performance.

The melody had a predictable rhythm—slow but steady, calm like a gentle river. Yet, it seemed as though the river was holding back, never fully reaching its climax.

The cycle repeated, over and over, like a form of quiet torment.

Driven by an unexplainable urge, Tuesday's steps quickened. He wanted to reach the source of the melody.

In his haste, he didn't notice his mask cracking further with each step.

Despite his skill at acting, his love for music was real in both his past life and this one.

He couldn't bear the idea of a beautiful melody left unfinished.

He wanted to fix it.

At last, he found a door, and the melody grew even louder from within.

Without hesitation, Tuesday opened it.

A large piano stood at the center of the room, and behind it, Lurch sat, clad in black, his presence both imposing and eerie.

"♫-"

The music stopped abruptly, right before the climax.

Lurch turned to look at him, his blank eyes empty.

"Why did you stop playing?" Tuesday asked, a trace of confusion in his voice.

"…"

Lurch looked at him, then back at the piano. After a pause, he resumed the same melody.

"♫~"

The same peaceful beginning flowed, its melancholy and nostalgia filling the room.

Tuesday closed his eyes, fully immersing himself in the melody.

As it progressed, the song grew a bit faster. A strange fear and anxiety began to creep into him.

Why was he so scared? He didn't know. But instinctively, he felt something ominous building, urging him to flee.

It was as if once-happy memories were being covered by a layer of sadness and despair.

The melody grew in intensity, his breathing shallower with each note.

But just as the song reached its peak, when the emotions seemed poised to explode, it stopped.

He opened his eyes in frustration, watching Lurch's hand hover over the keys, his finger trembling, unable to press the next note.

Lurch seemed troubled, as if he, too, wasn't satisfied with the song but couldn't finish it alone.

"♫…"

Yet, in the midst of this silence, a new note sounded. Lurch looked at him, puzzled.

Tuesday had joined him on the bench, his eyes intent on the piano.

A peaceful melody began again, the song replayed with a newfound richness.

Lurch observed him for a moment, then resumed playing without a word.

The once-monotonous song grew colorful, as if a gray world was regaining its hues.

Tuesday was filling in the missing sounds.

The music now sounded like it was meant for two all along.

Little by little, Tuesday began to understand why this melody had drawn him in so deeply.

As Lurch played, he felt the man's restrained, mechanical nature. His movements were robotic but carried a sense of restrained emotion.

That's why he hadn't been able to give the song its resolution.

As the song gained shape and neared its end, an unnameable dread filled his heart once more.

What would come next?

The melody seemed to portray a journey from peace to turmoil, yet the same notes couldn't give it a resolution.

But his hands kept playing, the song reaching its crescendo.

Silence followed as they both stopped, hands frozen in sync.

'No, it can't end like this!' he thought, pressing his wrist.

The notes were perfect, but something essential was missing.

"...♪~!"

A new melody filled the silence, his voice soft and full of emotion.

At first, it was a low, trembling sound, as if restrained by fear. But as the melody evolved, his voice grew clearer, carrying sorrow.

The sadness infused his voice as it had filled the piano, and bit by bit, he pushed toward the climax the piano couldn't deliver.

Tuesday poured his soul into the song, his emotions spilling out with each note.

Living with the Addams family, his heart had always been filled with fear and despair, and this was why the song resonated so deeply.

The unfinished melody mirrored his own unresolved struggles.

He sang, using his anxiety to bring the song to its end.

"♪…!"

He held a long, powerful note, letting it echo, filling his lungs until he had nothing left to give.

"…"

Silence fell again. The song was complete, yet he felt strangely empty.

The song was good, but its meaning seemed concerning. As if the peace never would come back again. 

Was that truly the end?

"♫"

But as he grappled with these thoughts, the piano started up again, this time with a lighthearted, almost playful tune.

At first, it seemed out of place—awkward and inconsistent. But as it continued, the new melody began to fit, as though it had always belonged.

He looked at Lurch, whose hands were still trembling as he played.

The melancholy song had transformed, now cheerful and warm, filling him with an unexpected hope.

Without realizing it, a smile crept across his face.

The song was perfect in its new form.

"♪"

A bright voice joined the melody. Instead of being turbulent and sorrowful, it was innocent and hopeful, bringing the song to a fulfilling close.

At the end of the melody, two eyes stared at each other.

Tuesday was so immersed in his song that he hadn't noticed how close they were, if he was in his normal senses he would for sure react.

Lurch had a strong and scary image in his heart, after all, he also was an Addams.

But by sharing a melody with him he somehow felt connected to him.

That's why a strange thought started to bloom in his mind. The fact that he and this man could be friends.

A smile was threatening to become more expressive on his face. He knew he should suppress it to keep his mask, but not only did it become bigger but the words were out of his mouth before he could even think.

"Want to play once more?"

Absurd words came out of his mouth, but perhaps they weren't that much.

Thinking well now he wasn't sure if Lurch was really eligible to be a friend.

Maybe playing together with him once more he could be sure of those thoughts.

As if he needed an excuse to play along he convinced himself he needed more evidence.

The piano's room became louder enchanting the night. The sun started to rise at some point but the two kept sharing a melody together like there was no tomorrow.

Wednesday looked at the actions of her sister contemplative.

She wondered if her sister had ever thought that singing and playing so loudly their family would notice.

Right back in the door, several figures were looking at them like animals in the zoo.

If Tuesday paid a little more attention he could notice it. Unfortunately, he was so immersed in the song that this thought had not even crossed his mind.

*

Author note

This chapter is completely different from the original. My initial idea was just to rewrite some parts but I created a whole new chapter. I hope you like it and I'm sorry again. I'll make sure to finish the next chapter this weekend.


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