Jenna Ortega Imagines (2)

The Interview Glow - J.O

The sound of "cut!" echoes through the set like a final school bell. Just like that, we're wrapped on Wednesday season two.

I'm still in costume — black dress, black boots, and enough fake blood on my hand to make a horror fan jealous — when the cast and crew start cheering. People are hugging, taking selfies, and yelling, "See you at the premiere!" My own relief hits me in waves. Months of night shoots, stunt work, and living inside Wednesday Addams' head, it's a lot. But the thing that keeps flashing in my brain isn't a scene from the show.

It's Y/N.

She's waiting for me back at the hotel, probably wearing my hoodie and scrolling through TikTok, ready to wrap her arms around me like she's reeling in their favorite catch. Filming keeps me away for so long, but the moment I see her again, it's like time folds in half.

Fast forward two days, and I'm in a studio in London, doing one of those back-to-back interview days where you sit in the same chair for hours while journalists cycle in and out like speed dating. Except instead of romantic questions, you get a lot of, "So what can fans expect from season two?"

I can do those answers in my sleep. "Wednesday's relationships get more complicated, the mysteries are darker."

But then one interviewer flips through her cards and smiles. "So, Jenna, I have to ask... congratulations on your wedding!"

My brain short-circuits for half a second, but in the best way. I laugh, probably too quickly, and lean forward. "Thank you. It still feels surreal."

The thing is, when you talk about someone you love, you can't hide it. Not really. My PR team always says, "Keep it short, keep it cute," but I never listen when it comes to Y/N.

"We got married in this tiny ceremony," I tell her, my voice automatically softening. "It was just family, some friends, and a sunset that looked like it was painted. We wrote our own vows. I thought I was going to be fine, but the second Y/N started walking down the aisle, I... yeah, I lost it. Completely."

She laughs. "Crying on your own wedding day is allowed."

"Oh, I know. Y/N wouldn't let me forget it either. She teased me the whole honeymoon. But honestly, that day was perfect. We didn't even care that my hair kept flying into my lip gloss during pictures."

For the next three interviews, the same thing happens. People ask about the season, then they slide in a question about the wedding. And every time, I feel my shoulders relax and my smile go soft without me even realizing.

One guy asks, "What's your favorite memory from that day?"

That one's easy. "After the reception, everyone left except us and a few of our closest friends. We were barefoot, dancing on the grass under these fairy lights Y/N insisted on putting up herself. The DJ was gone, so we played music off her phone, and I spun her around like we were in a cheesy rom-com. And it didn't matter that my dress had grass stains or that we had cake smudged on our faces. That's the moment I keep going back to."

Between interviews, I sneak looks at my phone. There's a new selfie from Y/N — hair messy, holding our dog like a baby, captioned: Your wife says hurry home.

I'm supposed to be giving polished, professional answers about the craft of acting and the thematic arcs of my character, but all I want to do is close the laptop and catch the next flight out.

When the last interviewer wraps, the producer thanks me and says, "We'll send over the clips." I nod, already picturing how Y/N will react when she'll see me gushing on camera. She will tease me for being "mushy," but her ears will turn red, and she'll try to hide that smile that makes me want to marry her all over again.

By the time I'm in the car back to the hotel, I can feel my shoulders dropping, the pace of set life slowing. I scroll through my camera roll until I land on our wedding photo, the one where we're looking at each other like the rest of the world fell away.

Filming is amazing. Interviews are fine. But nothing, absolutely nothing, feels like home the way Y/N does.

And I'm not just saying that because she's going to meet me at the door tonight wearing my hoodie again... though I wouldn't mind that part, either.