Work Text:
They went to a local store to look for activities. The girl begged ƎNA to give herself a day off, which made the other question what they would even do together.
They had different interest.
ENA loved making bracelets, ƎNA was too impatient.
ƎNA loved the stock market, ENA was too apathetic.
ENA loved crocheting, ƎNA ripped the yarn.
ƎNA loved work, ENA was unemployed.
They’ve tried simple hobbies.
They picked out an 1,000 piece puzzle, finished it in ten minutes.
They played chess, ended in a draw.
They played a board game, ƎNA flipped the board.
They tried cooking together, ENA cried from a drop of steaming water landing on her finger.
Now they were looking for something different.
They ended up in the party supply aisle. Not because they were planning a party—neither of them had enough friends for that—but because ENA was hypnotized by a rubber chicken, and ƎNA had already picked up a whoopee cushion with a deadly intent.
“I think this chicken is singing to me…”ENA whispered, holding it close to her face.
“ I think this aisle is a social experiment .” ƎNA muttered, eyes narrowed as she glanced around.
They kept wandering, past the shelves of plastic leis, glittery top hats, and fake mustaches.
ENA tried on every colorful wig, none of which were made for her head. ƎNA tried on a pair of novelty sunglasses shaped like dollar signs, looked in the mirror, and sighed like she had just seen all of her past mistakes.
That’s when ENA spotted it.
“Look!” she exclaimed, pointing towards the back of the store and running over.
“A DIY piñata kit!” She picked up the box like it was a puppy.
“ … That’s a craft, ” ƎNA warned, following behind her. “ We both know how crafts end. ”
“But this one ends in violence!” ENA clapped, already feeling the blue pessimism melting. “We get to hit it!”
ƎNA’s eyes glinted, imagining the piñata being an old client of hers, or like that awful shaman she met.
“ I suppose it would make a good anger diffuser… ”
They bought the kit, ENA had thrown it in the cart. It came with fragile paper, tape that didn't stick, and instructions written entirely in Italian.
For two hours, they tried to shape it into a donkey, a star, an hourglass, then gave up and turned it into an abstract orb. ENA decorated it with googly eyes and glitter. ƎNA stuffed it with mini staples and leftover Halloween candy.
When it was finally finished, they tied it to a lamp, blindfolded themselves, and took turns swinging at it in the living room.
ENA hit the lamp instead and apologized to it profusely.
ƎNA knocked the piñata clean off the string with one hit, laughing in victory.
It exploded all across the floor.
Afterward, they sat among the chaos—sparkles, licorice, and crumpled, claw-ripped instructions everywhere.
“That was… exhilarating.” ENA said, chewing on a piece of taffy, glitter in her hair.
“ Destruction is always thrilling. ” The salesperson agreed, wiping glitter off her face.
They looked at each other.
“I think we’re getting better at this.”
“ At being incompatible? ”
“No,” ENA smiled. “At being together.”
ƎNA stared for a moment. Then nodded once.
“ Next time, I’ll pick the piñata filling. I already have spreadsheets. ” She took out a paper from inside her shirt.
ENA leaned against her, sighing contentedly. “Just no more mini staples, I sat on one.”
“ Fine, ” ƎNA said. “ I’ll do thumbtacks instead. ”
“Much better!” ENA chirped.
They cleaned up the mess, but the afterglow of glitter still lingers on the floor.
