The moment Jenna Ortega’s heart skipped for Emma Myers? It’s more heartbreakingly real than any script… 💔

In a raw confession that’s shattering fans worldwide, Jenna spills the exact instants their bond ignited—whispers in Bucharest nights, a single glance that changed everything. Was it love at first awkward Zoom, or something that bloomed in the shadows? The timeline will wreck you… Read the full reveal: 😢

Jenna Ortega has never been one to shy away from the spotlight, but her latest revelation cuts deeper than any Scream twist or Wednesday plotline. In a vulnerable Vanity Fair cover story dropping today, the 23-year-old actress opens up about the precise moments she and co-star Emma Myers “fell in love”—not with rose-tinted romance, but with a profound, life-altering connection that has fueled years of fan frenzy. “There were these exact instants where it hit me: Emma’s my person,” Ortega shares, pinpointing milestones from their chaotic first meeting to quiet triumphs amid Hollywood’s glare. The confession, tied to Wednesday Season 2’s ongoing dominance on Netflix (now at 2 billion viewing hours), has the “Wenclair” shippers in meltdown mode, with #FellInLove trending at 4 million posts on X. Yet, as Ortega lays bare the timeline, it emerges as a testament to friendship’s quiet power—one that’s withstood rumors, isolation, and the relentless churn of fame.

Ortega’s words land like a gut punch in Vanity Fair‘s intimate profile, shot in a dimly lit Los Angeles studio where she arrived in her signature all-black ensemble, Myers’ neon scrunchie peeking from her bag as a subtle nod. “People romanticize it, and that’s fine—fiction’s for dreaming,” Ortega says. “But Emma and I? Our ‘falling in love’ was real, messy, earned. It wasn’t fireworks; it was anchors in a storm.” The moments she recounts span four years, starting with that fateful 2021 Zoom and weaving through Wednesday‘s highs and Hollywood’s hurdles. Fans, who’ve dissected every red-carpet touch and interview glance since Season 1’s 2022 explosion, are poring over the details like sacred text. One X user, @wenclairheart, posted: “Jenna naming the MOMENTS? This is our rom-com origin story.” But Ortega’s narrative, laced with raw honesty, reframes the saga: What if the greatest love stories aren’t kisses, but the unspoken vows of showing up?

Moment one: The Awkward Zoom, October 2021. It was supposed to be a routine chemistry read for Tim Burton’s Wednesday reboot, but fate had other plans. Ortega, fresh off The Fallout‘s emotional drain and sporting what she calls “the braids from hell” after a rushed styling session, logged in from her Coachella Valley home. Myers, 19 and en route to the gym in Orlando, appeared in oversized sweats, mid-sip from a protein shake. “I thought, ‘This girl’s got fire,'” Ortega recalls in Vanity Fair. “She cracked a joke about my hair looking like Wednesday’s post-rain vibe, and I laughed—real, not polite. In that glitchy five minutes, something locked in. It was like recognizing a missing piece.” Myers, in a parallel Seventeen September 2025 feature, mirrors the memory: “Jenna’s eyes—they saw me, not the newbie. That was the spark.” The read sealed their casting, but for Ortega, it was the first “fall”: vulnerability amid pixels, two outsiders connecting before the world knew their names.

Fast-forward to Bucharest, December 2021—the second moment, amid Wednesday‘s grueling eight-month shoot under COVID lockdowns. Romania’s biting winter and enforced isolation turned the Gothic sets into a pressure cooker. One night, after a 14-hour day filming Wednesday and Enid’s explosive dorm spat, Ortega found Myers curled up in their shared trailer, scrolling fan art of their characters. “I was spiraling—homesick, doubting if I could carry this,” Ortega admits. “Emma looked up, no words, just pulled me into a hug. We sat there, silent, until dawn. That’s when it deepened: She didn’t fix me; she stayed. I fell harder right there, on that lumpy couch.” Myers describes it as their “midnight pact,” swapping stories of upbringings—Ortega as the bilingual youngest of six in a Mexican-Puerto Rican household, Myers as the homeschooled Florida kid who traded flips for scripts after mono derailed her gymnastics. “Jenna’s strength? It’s quiet thunder,” Myers told Cosmopolitan UK. “That night, I knew she’d fight for me too.” The isolation amplified it: Daily voice memos evolved into rituals—Ortega’s deadpan “Rise, wolf girl,” Myers’ K-pop serenades—cementing a bond that echoed their characters’ shift from foes to family.

By premiere night, November 2022—the third pivotal instant—Wednesday had become Netflix’s crown jewel, with 1.2 billion hours watched in week one. The black-tie affair at L.A.’s Egyptian Theatre buzzed with A-listers, but for Ortega, the real magic unfolded backstage. As flashes popped and nerves frayed, Myers slipped her a handwritten note: “We did this, Addams. Proud of us.” “I read it in the bathroom mirror, tears blurring the ink,” Ortega shares. “Fame hit like a wave, but Emma? She was the shore. That’s when the love solidified—not butterflies, but bedrock. We walked the carpet arm-in-arm, and I thought, ‘This is forever.'” A viral clip captured it: Myers adjusting Ortega’s corset, both beaming amid the chaos. Fans dubbed it “the hand-hold heard ’round the world,” but Ortega clarifies in Vanity Fair: “It was gratitude, fierce and full. She saw my fear and chose joy for us both.” Myers, reflecting in Entertainment Weekly, adds: “Jenna’s poise hides a soft core. That night, I fell too—into protecting her light.”

The rumors ignited soon after, turning their closeness into clickbait. A 2023 Entertainment Tonight panel saw Ortega call Myers her “sunshine in shadows,” sparking 10 million-view TikToks. By Season 2’s 2024 production delays from strikes, the fourth moment arrived: A New Zealand wrap gift in March 2025. Filming Agnes DeMille’s (Evie Templeton) arc pushed their on-screen trust to new limits, but off-set, Ortega surprised Myers with a custom necklace—two interlocking wolves, one black, one rainbow. “We’d just nailed the body-swap take,” Ortega recounts. “Emma nailed my monotone—flawless. I gave her the gift poolside at dusk, and she teared up. ‘This is us,’ she said. That’s the moment it peaked: Love as legacy, not lust.” The episode, Episode 5, where Wednesday and Enid swap essences amid a werewolf ritual, drew The Hollywood Reporter‘s praise as “a visceral ode to empathy.” Myers, in Seventeen, calls it “our mirror”: “Jenna in my chaos? Emma in her calm? We blurred lines, on and off.” Templeton, the teen wildcard, teased in Teen Vogue: “Their gift exchange? Electric. You felt the history.”

Yet, the fifth and ongoing “fall” unfolds in the rumor storm itself—post-Season 2’s August 2025 drop, with 2 billion hours streamed. Invasive X threads dissected a July hike pap (arms linked, laughter frozen mid-frame), while 2024 “queerbaiting” accusations from The Advocate questioned the show’s subtext. Ortega addresses it head-on: “The scrutiny? It tests you. But Emma and I? We choose each other daily—texts at 3 a.m., her hyping my X-Men directorial gig, me cheering her Minecraft chaos with Momoa. That’s the love: Chosen, not chased.” Myers, single and quipping about dating in Cosmo: “Run from toxic; cling to real,” confirms her stance. Their latest overlap? A September Lady Gaga concert, where Myers dragged Ortega to the pit, Templeton sandwiched between— a trinity of joy amid the glare.

Experts frame it as modern myth-making. Dr. Nora Hale, a UCLA media psychologist, notes in a 2025 Journal of Communication study: “Wednesday‘s appeal lies in that gray space—platonic depth mistaken for romance. Jenna’s timeline humanizes it, showing Gen Z bonds as multifaceted.” Showrunners Gough and Millar, in Variety, affirm: “Wednesday and Enid’s ‘love’ is growth. Jenna and Emma live it authentically.” On Reddit’s r/WednesdayTV, reactions swirl: @jemmalove’s “These moments? Pure poetry” (200K upvotes) versus @wenclairreal: “Friendship goals, not forced ships.”

As Netflix hints at Season 3’s “entwined fates,” Ortega’s revelations remind us: Love’s truest falls aren’t scripted. They’re the quiet choices—the Zoom glitch, the trailer hug, the note in the mirror—that build empires of trust. In Ortega’s words: “Emma didn’t change me; she revealed me.” And in a town of illusions, that’s the plot twist worth chasing.