Emerald Limelight by Lumiére & Callita. PG-13, 10/?
Wheeee! Another update! Enjoy!
Title: Emerald Limelight 10/?
Authors: Lumiére and Callita
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Idina/Kristin, Elphaba/Glinda (& more)
Summary: Elphaba realises not everyone here is on her side, while Idina remembers why opening private letters is never a good idea.
Disclaimer: This is an entirely non-profit work of fiction. We do not claim ownership of the world or any of the characters we write about. They are either real people, or are fictional characters belonging to Gregory Maguire and the copyright holders of the Wicked musical.
Wordcount: 5, 282
Chapter 1 Chapter 5, Part 1
Chapter 2, Part 1
Chapter 2, Part 2
Chapter 3, Part 1
Chapter 3, Part 2
Chapter 4, Part 1
Chapter 4, Part 2
======================================================
Chapter 5, part 2
Shiz
The week had been less traumatic than Idina had anticipated. Even waking up was getting easier, she had to admit, as she opened her eyes to sunlight flooding the room, instead of Glinda shaking her roughly or Nanny’s booming warnings against too much sleep.
“Morning Glinda,” she said, yawning out of habit rather than sleepiness. The blonde girl smiled at her.
“Good morning. Not too tired today?”
“I... feel fantastic. Hungry though. What do we have this morning?”
“Well actually, you needn’t get up so early after all today. I’ve got my sorcery tutorial, but that’s just for the advanced class, so your morning’s free. Still,” Glinda continued quickly when Idina looked so disappointed, “you could go to the library. I know you must be sick of sorcery by now, but I’m really sensing some improvement. Your attitude is so much better. And I’ll be sure to ask Miss Grayling if she has any advice for you.” She hurried to the door as Idina smoothed her hands through her hair. “And make sure you eat something. You look hungry.”
Idina felt hungry. Something about being back at school made her constantly ravenous, and the food at Crage Hall was far better than the school dinners she remembered with slight revulsion. And it really wasn’t worth wasting the morning now that she’d woken up. Idina wasn’t sure she agreed with Glinda’s convictions about her talents at sorcery, but she hadn't forgotten her desire to be back home, and any time spent working towards that was surely well spent.
Nanny bustled in carrying a stack of freshly pressed laundry, while supporting a very well scrubbed Nessarose. Idina winced; even now she’d gotten over the girl’s unexpected complexion, she’d coped over the last week mainly by avoiding her ‘sister’ at all costs. Nessarose’s eyes were too sharp, too searching, and far too likely to spot any of Idina’s mistakes. Staying out of her way hadn’t been too difficult since Nessarose usually left even earlier than Glinda to attend the Unionist service in the college chapel, and was always in bed before Idina returned from dinner. Idina hadn't yet had a decent conversation with the girl, which was definitely a good thing, since she was sure she would give herself away if she did.
“I’ve aired some of your old dresses, Fabala pet,” said Nanny, setting a pile down on the dresser. “Never seem to need washing, you odd child, but they’re ironed at least. Really, the clothes you’re wearing these days, anyone would think you couldn’t afford pretty things. Your mother would be shocked at-”
“Don’t stand there rambling, Nanny. We’ll be late for the service,” said Nessarose pointedly. Idina had noticed that the girl seemed to grow even sharper whenever Nanny mentioned Melena. Nanny just clucked.
“Of course, pet. But it’s good to see your sister looking a bit better, isn’t it?”
“I really couldn’t be concerned with the state of Elphaba’s health. She is able to look after herself perfectly well.” Nessarose sniffed. “I, on the other hand, am not.”
And with that, the pair were gone, leaving Idina feeling both relieved and affronted by Nessarose’s rudeness. She really should make an effort to speak to her, she knew, but it was far too risky. Everything was too risky. She sighed and began to bathe with the oil, the way Glinda had shown her one evening. It made her feel better - not clean exactly, but fresh and well presented. The sandalwood oil smelled sweet and sharp, sliding warmly over her skin. She pulled on one of the dresses Nanny had left, vaguely recalling having worn it before. Even Elphaba’s clothes were beginning to feel familiar - now that was a worrying thought.
Breakfast was even better than Idina had expected, which put her in such good spirits that she set out to tackle her problems with sorcery with renewed vigour. She smiled at the Rhino librarian, settling herself in an armchair and laying out the sorcery book on her knees with fierce determination.
Something dug into her knee. Idina rummaged in the pocket of her dress, and pulled out the crumpled envelope she’d found in Nessarose’s room days ago and shoved in there when Glinda came in partially hammered. Her curiosity was piqued once again. Whatever was in the letter, it was addressed to Elphaba as well as Nessarose, and if Elphaba knew about it, Idina should too. Otherwise how else was she supposed to play her? Idina knew that, in her situation, Elphaba would never open the letter, but would display the same self-discipline Idina ought to be showing now, fingering the envelope in her slender, green fingers. It would be a breach of trust, she knew, remembering that sick guilty feeling she’d first had when her parents had caught her stealing sweets from her sister. Kristin would be utterly shocked at her.
The thought of Kristin made her suddenly homesick again, as Idina silently longed to be back in New York. She began putting together a string of flawless logic. In order to get home, she needed to learn sorcery. Elphaba was good at sorcery, so all she had to do was be more like Elphaba. This letter was obviously part of Elphaba’s life. Therefore reading the letter would help Idina get home. Perfect.
She tore open the envelope before she lost her nerve, gathering the pages that fell out and scanning through them at record speed. The handwriting was hard to decipher, and the language itself was almost unintelligible, as if the writer had been distracted or drunk at the time. Impatiently, Idina skipped to the end, her heart beating fast. She read the name at the end of the letter, blinked, and read it again.
“What the FUCK?!”
Then the huge Rhino came to kick her out of the library.
* * *
Broadway
Elphaba woke early again, just as she had every morning since reading the book. It was understandable, she supposed. She had received a shock incomparable to anything thus far, except, perhaps, from her pained arrival onto this land. What worse confusion and bone deep terror could there be than reading of one's own death? Or reading of a past not too dissimilar from her own, through all that she had been immersed in just before her unfortunate backfired spell, and to a dark and twisted future she could only dream of in nightmares? What worse could there be than the now constant fear that those pages of simple ink, bound in a simple modern book, were prophecy? While Elphaba always earnestly considered herself of a far greater maturity and intellect to those of her peers, she was still only seventeen. In the tumultuous in-between of adult and child. But she knew, with clarity, that she had not years enough to comprehend her own death like this.
And so, perhaps rationally, or perhaps not, she still focused on the discrepancies between the book and her life. Determining it as no more fate than a fable somewhat based on her. But such matters of the mind still consumed her, and the worst seemed to occur on waking. Unrested and victim to only a few short hours of sleep where her anxieties ran amok, twisting her dreams into a chaotic hell. And today was no different; but as the morning wore on, she again grew calmer and more rational. She forced herself to.
Readying herself for the outside world and researching served as a welcome distraction, as was Kristin's call, gently reminding Elphaba that she was due at the theatre. All seemed well as she carefully made her own way there. She spotted Kristin about to enter at the same time, and they walked in together. The greeting was as tactile as it usually was, but even Kristin had seemed tense. “Joe's expecting you,” she said, while Elphaba worked hard to bite down on her nausea. Now she knew the story of the 'Wicked Witch of the West', the theatre seemed more dangerous to her. The book had tarnished it. Her-Idina's-feet seemed to act on autopilot, her greetings to now familiar people, only shallow pleasantries. She hardly saw them. She hardly saw much of anything until Kristin drew to a stop beside a door, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I'll meet you out here,” she had said. “When you're done.” A pat on the shoulder and Elphaba had found herself through the door and into an office, looking a smallish grim looking man in the eye. “Please sit,” he instructed, and she did. He cleared his throat, slouched forward in his chair, elbows on desk and sighed. “I want to talk about your return to the stage. When can you do it?”
And now... here she was; gaping like a sapling, having lost all and any eloquence. “Pardon?”
“Your return, Idina,” Joe replied in a bored fashion, and Elphaba felt mildly offended. “When can you become Elphaba again?”
The others had all pandered to her, and Elphaba hadn't realised how much she had grown to rely on that until now, faced with this man who seemed to care only for business. “My... ribs?”
“You seem fine. It's been two weeks.”
“It has, but-”
“Are you still taking your meds?”
“Yes, but-”
“Well they can help you.” He rose his eyebrows at her, peering at her and obviously judging her. Elphaba didn't care for it at all. Who was this man that felt he could talk to, well, Idina in this way? “I hope you're not using the incident as a vacation,” he said.
“I have broken a rib! I assure you, there is no fun in that!”
“I'm glad to hear it. But you're walking and talking... that's all you need to go back into rehearsals. Try to beat this-” he curled two fingers in the air on both hands “-amnesia you have going on.” The meaning wasn't lost on her, despite the strange gesture, and she felt her face heating in anger.
“You are belittling me,” she hissed. “I am not ready to return to the stage.”
“But I think you are. If you enjoy this vacation time so much, I can extend it. You don't need to return. I can use Stephanie for the part she was meant for.”
Maybe the recent confused luxury was spoiling her, or maybe she was responsible enough to at least attempt to preserve Idina's life; perhaps she thought it an injustice for this woman to be spoken to in such a way. Without wanting to anger this obviously cruel and idiotic man, and therefore risk things further, Elphaba bit back her sharp words, but quickly rose from the seat. She strode to the door, yanking it open, and hearing his last remark just as she left: “You can't play victim for too long!”
The door slammed shut behind her, and she surged forward. A defiant set to Idina's jaw. She saw Kristin waiting against the wall - “Dee?” the woman called, jumping into motion, hurrying after her.
“I need to be alone. For a little while. To think,” Elphaba said curtly and heaved a shuddering angry breath.
“But-”
“Please.”
Elphaba felt Kristin slow behind her, and she continued on, faster. She needed to be free of this place. Where to, she had no idea... but this wasn't working. She felt the urge to cry and cursed herself all the more. She was failing at this masquerade and people had noticed. The amnesia was in question. She seemed fine enough to walk and talk, as Joe said, so surely she was fine enough to be on stage. Were they all whispering about her in agreement with Joe? Was he simply the person with gall enough to say it? Damn these people! What was she meant to do? If they knew what she was going through! If they-
“Holy shit! OUCH!”
“Oh...”
Elphaba was reeling. Brought to a stop by an unceremonious collision. She steadied herself, and looked up to see Michelle, inspecting herself and rubbing her side. “I'm sorry,” Elphaba said, frowning, and wanting nothing more than to continue on her way and out of this damned theatre.
“In a hurry, much?”
“In a hurry...” Elphaba repeated, peering past the scowling woman and along the otherwise empty corridor. “I suppose.”
Michelle groaned and twisted, as if stretching her torso. “Shit. I would've thought you were seriously bony with the way that hurt. I'm surprised I haven't broken a rib.” Elphaba felt her anger renew itself again, and she stepped to the side, intent on escaping this demon too.
“Heeey!” But Michelle caught her arm, pivoting back to regard her. “What's wrong? Where are you going?”
“I want to be alone.”
“Ah, now, that's always a bad idea, Dee. You and alone don't work. You get all,” she let Idina's arm go, and made windmill motions, “y'know... crazy as fuck.” She settled, and grinned. “Come on. Hang with me for a while. I can be your ear.” The grin was revised into a smile that looked genuine as Elphaba hesitated. “We haven't talked in a while,” Michelle said. “Not properly.”
And for some odd reason, Elphaba calmed. At least a little. “Alright,” she said, and with a satisfied nod, Michelle led her down another corridor and to a door Elphaba had not yet seen. They entered a dressing room, which had soft music playing and Michelle blushed. “It calms me,” she said. She motioned toward the sofa, much like Eden's (or rather, Idina's) and Kristin's. “Drink? Mineral water, OJ and... there's vodka too.” All Elphaba managed to do was blink before Michelle nodded and whirled toward a strangely small fridge exclaiming, “Vodka and OJ it is then.”
Elphaba wasn't certain what vodka was, but thanked the woman for it anyway and watched as she poured a clear liquid into two glasses, followed by what she realised was orange juice. OJ... orange juice... well it made sense.
“So, tell me. Was it Kristin?-Here's the drink.” Michelle settled herself against the arm of the sofa, opposite Elphaba and nursing her concoction.
“Thank you.”
“No worries. So, was it her? Did she not put out?”
Elphaba sipped the drink and winced. She could taste the juice, but the 'vodka' was absolutely foul. Was it truly meant to be drunk? Or was it meant to be fuel of some sort? But Michelle seemed to have no trouble drinking hers. “I haven't a clue what you're talking about.”
“Okay. Alright.” Michelle nodded. “Was it... Norbert? Did he poke you?”
“I don't believe so.”
“Well jeez, do I have to keep on guessing? I'm your ear, Dee! I'm not meant to talk... or really guess. Talk to me! And drink up.” She saluted with her glass and raised eyebrows, before actually gulping down a portion of it, while Elphaba grimaced and endured another sip. True to her word, Michelle didn’t say anything else. She only watched Elphaba expectantly with a surprisingly gentle smile in place. Her support, while of a pendulous nature, was a far cry from Elphaba’s experience with Joe, and she wondered if the shock of it had caused her to overreact. Michelle didn't seem the sort to conspire or judge with cruelty. Neither did Eden, Kristin or Norbert. But could Elphaba be sure? She hardly knew these people. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more absurd this seemed. Why had she followed Michelle here? To whine ineffectually? No, she wasn't like that... but was Idina? She supposed she should say something.
Elphaba sipped her drink again. Something to give her more time. But the sip was just that, and the halt in conversation had stretched on long enough. “The amnesia. The rib. It's expected that I now return to the stage.”
Michelle's lips pursed as if about to form a word, but nothing came of it. She only watched and Elphaba watched back. Surely that was enough. “I'm not ready.” More silence, and Michelle blinked. Elphaba sipped the foul drink again, gazing off into space wondering just how long she may be stuck here. A week more? A month? A year? The rest of her or Idina's life? “I don't want... to lose this job through unfortunate circumstances. I don't want to lose it at all.”
Finally Michelle seemed overwhelmed or had taken pity. She slowly shook her head, and, yes, there was sympathy there. “You won't,” she said. “There's no way you'll lose the part. They're lucky you don't sue. It's - y'know, since it's their fault.” She swilled the remaining liquid in her glass thoughtfully and Elphaba wondered if she had turned her attention to the strains of string instruments still playing from somewhere. “So it's Joe? He’s the one that's pressuring you.”
“I spoke with him today, yes.”
“Well, he's a dick, Idina. He is. We all know it. He only... he only cares about money. Money and himself. You can't let him get you down.”
“And what if he speaks the truth?”
“Do you feel like you can run about? That you can quickly change costume? Do you feel you can sing properly with a rib that's still healing? I think only you can really know. Not him.” Elphaba nodded, and Michelle smiled again. “Besides. You still don't seem you. Where's all the swearing, Dee? Where's all the laughing and crying, huh?”
“Uh-”
“No, I know.” Michelle grinned. “You need to start cursing again. Everything else will fall into place. You'll lose the random British accent and, hey, you'll remember who I actually am - no, don't lie. You don't remember my favourite underwear do you? Exactly. Now, say 'fuck'.”
Elphaba grimaced.
“Go on.”
“I'd rather not.”
“Go on, say 'fuck'. Like you mean it.”
“I am not cursing, Michelle. It's primitive.”
Michelle laughed, “Ohhh, that is so rich coming from you. Fuck's, like, your keyword. Everyone knows you screamed it at your audition - you'll never live it down. It's your trademark. So, for the love of all that is... enjoyably sinful, say 'fuck'!”
“No.”
“Say it!”
“No.”
“SAY IT!”
“Fuck.”
Michelle erupted into raucous laughter, nearly spilling her drink. “YES!” she cried triumphantly, before calming just slightly, and grinning again. “Feel better?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“You're killing me here. Okay, now, say... 'I like to fuck Kristin-'”
A familiar voice called, “Michelle! You in there?”
“AH! JESUS CHRIST!” Michelle's drink went flying and the woman scrambled to save her carpet. “Kristin? You're evil. You are. You're an evil midget! With bat ears!”
Elphaba turned to see Kristin in the doorway, having seemingly begun inquiring about Michelle's presence from halfway down the corridor.
“Now that's just not fair - Oh, Dee. You're in here.”
“Yes.”
Michelle straightened, grimacing at the darkened patch on the grey carpet. “Well that sucks ass. Damn it. Hey, Kristin? I taught her a new trick. Or, an old trick, but new now.”
“What is it?”
Michelle grinned and nodded at Elphaba. “Say it,” she whispered conspiratorially. “It'll impress her.”
“No.”
“Say it, Dee. Please. For me. Your sister and ear!”
“No.”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Michelle shook her head, returning her attention to Kristin. “I taught her how to swear again.”
“Gosh, that's great - Dee, what are you doing here?”
Michelle walked over to the dresser, plunking the glass down. “We were just chillin'. Right, Dee? Yeah. Just chillin', Chenoweth.” She laughed rather loudly, then walked into the bathroom, muttering about cleaning products.
Kristin turned toward Elphaba with clear accusation in her eyes. “You said you wanted to be alone,” she whispered. “You did, didn't you?”
“I... happened to walk into Michelle-”
“Literally!” Michelle called from the bathroom.
“-and she persuaded me to come here.”
Kristin shook her head slightly. “I can't believe” - she lowered her voice further into a harsh whisper - “you'd rather spend your time with her than me. I just don't get you. It's like you're barely Idina!”
“Kristin-”
“No. No no.” Kristin took a step back. “This time it's me that wants to be alone. Actually alone,” and she turned and marched out of the dressing room.
Michelle returned from the bathroom holding a cloth and shower gel, while looking confused. “Did she just leave?”
“I do believe so.”
* * *
Shiz
She couldn't believe it. It was all wrong! It just didn't make any sense! It had to be a twisted joke. Some idiotic cruel person finding a new way to attack Elphaba. But it was addressed to Nessarose too.
Nessa...
She was wrong as well! What was Maguire thinking! Damn it, it wasn't his fault. He was only - what? Writing a novel about a land that just happened to exist almost exactly as he had written? “Damn it!” Idina cried, hurrying down the corridors and past shocked students. She needed answers. It was driving her nuts. Glinda would be back. She should be. Yeah.
Idina ended up running the rest of the way, clomping along in her huge 'man-boots' as Glinda called them. Finally she was at the room, and she shoved the door open, making Glinda squeak in startlement, nearly toppling.
“Goodness! Elphie! Oh - Oh, my heart! You scared me!”
“I scared you?” Idina turned and quickly shut the door, “I scared you. Sure. Well I have questions!” She whirled round, her eyes wide and frantic as she advanced toward Glinda.
“Questions-?”
“My mother!” Idina hissed, her chest heaving and her face beginning to tingle.
“Do calm down. You seem quite mad,” Glinda urged.
“Glinda, please. Tell me about my mother. Melena. I...” green hands fumbled for the letter and she thrust it in front of Glinda. “I found this! It's from Melena. It says it's from her. But I - she...”
“Elphie...” Glinda reached out, taking a gentle hold on Idina's arms and guided her toward her bed. “I'm not sure what it is you want me to say.”
“Is she... is she al-ow... my face!” Idina recoiled, wincing at the increased tingling that had turned into burning. “I don't.... What's happening!”
“Wait, hold on.” Glinda had jumped up from the bed, dashing into the bathroom. “You don't normally get so worked up,” she explained, then reappeared holding a towel. She quickly settled beside Idina on the bed, leaning over her.
“What are you doing?”
“You're sweating. Close your eyes.”
Idina did, and immediately she felt the soft fabric stroking against her skin. It calmed her, somehow. Maybe it was the soothing quality of no longer burning, or maybe it was Glinda's proximity. She could feel the girl's breath high on her cheek, probably inspecting her work.
“It's the water in sweat, I think,” Glinda whispered, and stroked across Idina's hairline. “Just like how the tears burn too. I suppose that's why I've never seen you cry before this all started, and I've only rarely seen you dab at yourself.” Glinda leaned back, and Idina opened her eyes, watching and wondering if that pinkish hue was a blush. She thought of what to say, but nothing came to mind. Not even the letter still
in her hand.
“You don't seem to have any burns. How do you feel?”
“Fi-” Idina cleared her throat. “I feel fine. Thanks.”
“Calm, I hope.”
Idina gave a slow smile. “Very.”
“Good.” Glinda settled more comfortably on the bed, placing the towel beside her. “You were inquiring about your mother.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, go on.”
“Uh... sorry. Right.” Idina rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. She felt so tired now; far from invigorated as she had been earlier. She had read the letter from... Melena. She had wondered who could be sick and cruel enough to pose as her. She wondered if Elphaba had ever mentioned it. “Do you know how she's... been lately?” But despite Idina's unexpected lethargy, she had sense enough to tread carefully on this matter.
“Oh. Well, we don't... normally talk so much, you and I. And certainly rarely about her.” Glinda winced, “I think she's alright? I, well I... hope she's alright. But, didn't you have a letter? Wouldn't that let you know of her well being?”
Idina returned her attention to the now crumpled letter in her hand. She sighed as she worked to flatten it out and carefully refold it, feeling more than a little guilty. “It was... vague,” she said.
“Oh dear.”
“Mm.”
“At least you know she's alive anyhow.”
And there it was.
Idina's stomach gave a lurch. “Yeah,” she replied distractedly. “Alive.”
* * *
Broadway
A door swung open and then slammed, causing Eden to flinch and swear to herself for not locking it. Wasn’t it customary to knock before entering anyway?
“Aren’t you ready yet, Espinosa? Come on! What’re you doing in there?”
“I’m in the frickin' shower, Michelle,” Eden called, trying not to get shampoo in her mouth. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“Jerking off, obviously.” Eden rolled her eyes and Michelle cackled from somewhere outside. The second worst thing about being a full time Elphaba was having to de-greenify every night. The worst was having to do it with Michelle in the room.
“Did you used to get off to Dee in the shower too?” she asked, trying to sound light-hearted.
“Not usually, because Dee always did it way faster than you.” Michelle paused for thought. “De-greenifying, I mean. Not jerking off. That, she took her time with.”
“Michelle!” Eden choked, turning off the water. “You can’t say stuff like that!”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s been in an accident. And now she’s all hurt and shaken up and it’s not nice.” Eden wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the shower. “You terrify her enough as it is, you know.”
“So if someone’s injured, I have to be nice to them?” Michelle smirked. “Nice towel, chiquita.” Eden rolled her eyes. “So, are you coming?”
“Not anymore. I did that in the shower, remember?” Michelle stuck out her tongue and Eden grabbed her clothes. “Do you mind, Michelle?”
“Not at all.” Eden glared. “Fine.” Michelle turned her back to the wall and started reading the cards and letters Idina had pinned up. “Listen to this: ‘Idina Menzel, I saw the show last Saturday and I think you are the most amazing actress in the world. Because of you, I want to be an actress on Broadway too.’ Poor misguided kid. And ooh look! This one comes with a drawing of Idina on a broomstick! ‘You are my role-model. Thanks to you, my life has been changed, for good.’ Original. Elphaba Elphaba Elphaba. Does no one care about the poor crippled sister in the wheelchair? Sure, she got a little obsessive, but not half as crazy as some of these fans.” She sighed. “Dee needs to remember how popular she was. Somewhere out there, some little girl is praying for her to get better in time for her to see the show for the twenty-third time.”
“What, because I’m not good enough?” Eden joked, pulling on a black shirt and jeans.
“Whatever, Espinosa. You’re my standby too. What’s going to happen if I get sick and can’t make it?”
“Cristy will cover for you, and one of the swings will take over for her. That’s why we have more than one understudy,” Eden said slowly, as if explaining something to a small child. She ran her hands through her damp hair. “Okay, you can look now.”
“Very nice,” Michelle said approvingly, eyeing her up and down. “You could maybe undo another button on that shirt.”
“Stop leering at me. Seriously, Fed.” Eden grabbed her purse. “Who else is coming?”
“Just Chris and us, I’m afraid. Norbert was too tired, and Laura’s out with the boyfriend, again. Okay for some, huh? Kristin’s nowhere to be seen, must’ve gotten out early. Dee went ages ago, and she was still pretty shaken up about that meeting with Joe. Seriously, he needs to give her a break. And Kristin too. It’s not her fault our leading lady fell through a hole in the floor. If anyone, blame Dorothy. Judy Garland always made me nervous anyway. Something about the pigtails… Hey, maybe she was really a werewolf! Or a vampire!”
An hour and three rounds of drinks later, Michelle was still going on about the secret life of Judy Garland as a vampire. Eden shook her head, blocking out the noise as she watched Chris’s expression grow more and more confused. Then Michelle’s tone changed and she tuned back in to the conversation.
“So you should totally go for it!” Michelle was saying.
“What? No way! She’s totally out of my league.”
“Bullshit. You’re starring in a hit Broadway musical, and not only that, but you get to share the stage with me each night. If I can fall for you, she certainly will. Now get out there and go for it!”
Michelle’s voice was so authoritative that Chris stood up and practically ran from the bar, making his way towards a tall, red-haired woman wearing a very low-cut dress. Michelle was nodding with encouragement.
“Mm, she’s not bad. Not really my type though.”
“What?” Eden blinked. “But she’s, she’s a, you’re not-”
“No?” Michelle raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Dance with me, Espinosa.”
She used the same tone she had with Chris, and Eden found herself unable to fight the sheer force of it. She stood up meekly and let Michelle grab her hand and drag her away from the bar, to where everyone was dancing to the beat of some tuneless song. It seemed to Eden not to be music at all, just an excuse for grinding and public groping. She mentioned this to Michelle, who laughed and swung her hips.
“That’s the point, my little chihuahua.” She placed her hands on Eden’s shoulders and Eden shivered. “Come on, girl. Relax!”
“We’re the only two girls dancing, Michelle. People are going to think we’re together!”
“If you should be so lucky.”
That did it. Eden pushed Michelle off her, muttering something about teasing going too far and not having to put up with this shit. She hurried to collect her coat and purse, glancing hack over her shoulder to see if Michelle was watching her. But the other girl was happily dancing with some random guy Eden had never seen before, as if nothing had happened. Eden shook her head in disgust and left without another word.
======================================================
Title: Emerald Limelight 10/?
Authors: Lumiére and Callita
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Idina/Kristin, Elphaba/Glinda (& more)
Summary: Elphaba realises not everyone here is on her side, while Idina remembers why opening private letters is never a good idea.
Disclaimer: This is an entirely non-profit work of fiction. We do not claim ownership of the world or any of the characters we write about. They are either real people, or are fictional characters belonging to Gregory Maguire and the copyright holders of the Wicked musical.
Wordcount: 5, 282
Chapter 1 Chapter 5, Part 1
Chapter 2, Part 1
Chapter 2, Part 2
Chapter 3, Part 1
Chapter 3, Part 2
Chapter 4, Part 1
Chapter 4, Part 2
======================================================
Chapter 5, part 2
Shiz
The week had been less traumatic than Idina had anticipated. Even waking up was getting easier, she had to admit, as she opened her eyes to sunlight flooding the room, instead of Glinda shaking her roughly or Nanny’s booming warnings against too much sleep.
“Morning Glinda,” she said, yawning out of habit rather than sleepiness. The blonde girl smiled at her.
“Good morning. Not too tired today?”
“I... feel fantastic. Hungry though. What do we have this morning?”
“Well actually, you needn’t get up so early after all today. I’ve got my sorcery tutorial, but that’s just for the advanced class, so your morning’s free. Still,” Glinda continued quickly when Idina looked so disappointed, “you could go to the library. I know you must be sick of sorcery by now, but I’m really sensing some improvement. Your attitude is so much better. And I’ll be sure to ask Miss Grayling if she has any advice for you.” She hurried to the door as Idina smoothed her hands through her hair. “And make sure you eat something. You look hungry.”
Idina felt hungry. Something about being back at school made her constantly ravenous, and the food at Crage Hall was far better than the school dinners she remembered with slight revulsion. And it really wasn’t worth wasting the morning now that she’d woken up. Idina wasn’t sure she agreed with Glinda’s convictions about her talents at sorcery, but she hadn't forgotten her desire to be back home, and any time spent working towards that was surely well spent.
Nanny bustled in carrying a stack of freshly pressed laundry, while supporting a very well scrubbed Nessarose. Idina winced; even now she’d gotten over the girl’s unexpected complexion, she’d coped over the last week mainly by avoiding her ‘sister’ at all costs. Nessarose’s eyes were too sharp, too searching, and far too likely to spot any of Idina’s mistakes. Staying out of her way hadn’t been too difficult since Nessarose usually left even earlier than Glinda to attend the Unionist service in the college chapel, and was always in bed before Idina returned from dinner. Idina hadn't yet had a decent conversation with the girl, which was definitely a good thing, since she was sure she would give herself away if she did.
“I’ve aired some of your old dresses, Fabala pet,” said Nanny, setting a pile down on the dresser. “Never seem to need washing, you odd child, but they’re ironed at least. Really, the clothes you’re wearing these days, anyone would think you couldn’t afford pretty things. Your mother would be shocked at-”
“Don’t stand there rambling, Nanny. We’ll be late for the service,” said Nessarose pointedly. Idina had noticed that the girl seemed to grow even sharper whenever Nanny mentioned Melena. Nanny just clucked.
“Of course, pet. But it’s good to see your sister looking a bit better, isn’t it?”
“I really couldn’t be concerned with the state of Elphaba’s health. She is able to look after herself perfectly well.” Nessarose sniffed. “I, on the other hand, am not.”
And with that, the pair were gone, leaving Idina feeling both relieved and affronted by Nessarose’s rudeness. She really should make an effort to speak to her, she knew, but it was far too risky. Everything was too risky. She sighed and began to bathe with the oil, the way Glinda had shown her one evening. It made her feel better - not clean exactly, but fresh and well presented. The sandalwood oil smelled sweet and sharp, sliding warmly over her skin. She pulled on one of the dresses Nanny had left, vaguely recalling having worn it before. Even Elphaba’s clothes were beginning to feel familiar - now that was a worrying thought.
Breakfast was even better than Idina had expected, which put her in such good spirits that she set out to tackle her problems with sorcery with renewed vigour. She smiled at the Rhino librarian, settling herself in an armchair and laying out the sorcery book on her knees with fierce determination.
Something dug into her knee. Idina rummaged in the pocket of her dress, and pulled out the crumpled envelope she’d found in Nessarose’s room days ago and shoved in there when Glinda came in partially hammered. Her curiosity was piqued once again. Whatever was in the letter, it was addressed to Elphaba as well as Nessarose, and if Elphaba knew about it, Idina should too. Otherwise how else was she supposed to play her? Idina knew that, in her situation, Elphaba would never open the letter, but would display the same self-discipline Idina ought to be showing now, fingering the envelope in her slender, green fingers. It would be a breach of trust, she knew, remembering that sick guilty feeling she’d first had when her parents had caught her stealing sweets from her sister. Kristin would be utterly shocked at her.
The thought of Kristin made her suddenly homesick again, as Idina silently longed to be back in New York. She began putting together a string of flawless logic. In order to get home, she needed to learn sorcery. Elphaba was good at sorcery, so all she had to do was be more like Elphaba. This letter was obviously part of Elphaba’s life. Therefore reading the letter would help Idina get home. Perfect.
She tore open the envelope before she lost her nerve, gathering the pages that fell out and scanning through them at record speed. The handwriting was hard to decipher, and the language itself was almost unintelligible, as if the writer had been distracted or drunk at the time. Impatiently, Idina skipped to the end, her heart beating fast. She read the name at the end of the letter, blinked, and read it again.
“What the FUCK?!”
Then the huge Rhino came to kick her out of the library.
* * *
Broadway
Elphaba woke early again, just as she had every morning since reading the book. It was understandable, she supposed. She had received a shock incomparable to anything thus far, except, perhaps, from her pained arrival onto this land. What worse confusion and bone deep terror could there be than reading of one's own death? Or reading of a past not too dissimilar from her own, through all that she had been immersed in just before her unfortunate backfired spell, and to a dark and twisted future she could only dream of in nightmares? What worse could there be than the now constant fear that those pages of simple ink, bound in a simple modern book, were prophecy? While Elphaba always earnestly considered herself of a far greater maturity and intellect to those of her peers, she was still only seventeen. In the tumultuous in-between of adult and child. But she knew, with clarity, that she had not years enough to comprehend her own death like this.
And so, perhaps rationally, or perhaps not, she still focused on the discrepancies between the book and her life. Determining it as no more fate than a fable somewhat based on her. But such matters of the mind still consumed her, and the worst seemed to occur on waking. Unrested and victim to only a few short hours of sleep where her anxieties ran amok, twisting her dreams into a chaotic hell. And today was no different; but as the morning wore on, she again grew calmer and more rational. She forced herself to.
Readying herself for the outside world and researching served as a welcome distraction, as was Kristin's call, gently reminding Elphaba that she was due at the theatre. All seemed well as she carefully made her own way there. She spotted Kristin about to enter at the same time, and they walked in together. The greeting was as tactile as it usually was, but even Kristin had seemed tense. “Joe's expecting you,” she said, while Elphaba worked hard to bite down on her nausea. Now she knew the story of the 'Wicked Witch of the West', the theatre seemed more dangerous to her. The book had tarnished it. Her-Idina's-feet seemed to act on autopilot, her greetings to now familiar people, only shallow pleasantries. She hardly saw them. She hardly saw much of anything until Kristin drew to a stop beside a door, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I'll meet you out here,” she had said. “When you're done.” A pat on the shoulder and Elphaba had found herself through the door and into an office, looking a smallish grim looking man in the eye. “Please sit,” he instructed, and she did. He cleared his throat, slouched forward in his chair, elbows on desk and sighed. “I want to talk about your return to the stage. When can you do it?”
And now... here she was; gaping like a sapling, having lost all and any eloquence. “Pardon?”
“Your return, Idina,” Joe replied in a bored fashion, and Elphaba felt mildly offended. “When can you become Elphaba again?”
The others had all pandered to her, and Elphaba hadn't realised how much she had grown to rely on that until now, faced with this man who seemed to care only for business. “My... ribs?”
“You seem fine. It's been two weeks.”
“It has, but-”
“Are you still taking your meds?”
“Yes, but-”
“Well they can help you.” He rose his eyebrows at her, peering at her and obviously judging her. Elphaba didn't care for it at all. Who was this man that felt he could talk to, well, Idina in this way? “I hope you're not using the incident as a vacation,” he said.
“I have broken a rib! I assure you, there is no fun in that!”
“I'm glad to hear it. But you're walking and talking... that's all you need to go back into rehearsals. Try to beat this-” he curled two fingers in the air on both hands “-amnesia you have going on.” The meaning wasn't lost on her, despite the strange gesture, and she felt her face heating in anger.
“You are belittling me,” she hissed. “I am not ready to return to the stage.”
“But I think you are. If you enjoy this vacation time so much, I can extend it. You don't need to return. I can use Stephanie for the part she was meant for.”
Maybe the recent confused luxury was spoiling her, or maybe she was responsible enough to at least attempt to preserve Idina's life; perhaps she thought it an injustice for this woman to be spoken to in such a way. Without wanting to anger this obviously cruel and idiotic man, and therefore risk things further, Elphaba bit back her sharp words, but quickly rose from the seat. She strode to the door, yanking it open, and hearing his last remark just as she left: “You can't play victim for too long!”
The door slammed shut behind her, and she surged forward. A defiant set to Idina's jaw. She saw Kristin waiting against the wall - “Dee?” the woman called, jumping into motion, hurrying after her.
“I need to be alone. For a little while. To think,” Elphaba said curtly and heaved a shuddering angry breath.
“But-”
“Please.”
Elphaba felt Kristin slow behind her, and she continued on, faster. She needed to be free of this place. Where to, she had no idea... but this wasn't working. She felt the urge to cry and cursed herself all the more. She was failing at this masquerade and people had noticed. The amnesia was in question. She seemed fine enough to walk and talk, as Joe said, so surely she was fine enough to be on stage. Were they all whispering about her in agreement with Joe? Was he simply the person with gall enough to say it? Damn these people! What was she meant to do? If they knew what she was going through! If they-
“Holy shit! OUCH!”
“Oh...”
Elphaba was reeling. Brought to a stop by an unceremonious collision. She steadied herself, and looked up to see Michelle, inspecting herself and rubbing her side. “I'm sorry,” Elphaba said, frowning, and wanting nothing more than to continue on her way and out of this damned theatre.
“In a hurry, much?”
“In a hurry...” Elphaba repeated, peering past the scowling woman and along the otherwise empty corridor. “I suppose.”
Michelle groaned and twisted, as if stretching her torso. “Shit. I would've thought you were seriously bony with the way that hurt. I'm surprised I haven't broken a rib.” Elphaba felt her anger renew itself again, and she stepped to the side, intent on escaping this demon too.
“Heeey!” But Michelle caught her arm, pivoting back to regard her. “What's wrong? Where are you going?”
“I want to be alone.”
“Ah, now, that's always a bad idea, Dee. You and alone don't work. You get all,” she let Idina's arm go, and made windmill motions, “y'know... crazy as fuck.” She settled, and grinned. “Come on. Hang with me for a while. I can be your ear.” The grin was revised into a smile that looked genuine as Elphaba hesitated. “We haven't talked in a while,” Michelle said. “Not properly.”
And for some odd reason, Elphaba calmed. At least a little. “Alright,” she said, and with a satisfied nod, Michelle led her down another corridor and to a door Elphaba had not yet seen. They entered a dressing room, which had soft music playing and Michelle blushed. “It calms me,” she said. She motioned toward the sofa, much like Eden's (or rather, Idina's) and Kristin's. “Drink? Mineral water, OJ and... there's vodka too.” All Elphaba managed to do was blink before Michelle nodded and whirled toward a strangely small fridge exclaiming, “Vodka and OJ it is then.”
Elphaba wasn't certain what vodka was, but thanked the woman for it anyway and watched as she poured a clear liquid into two glasses, followed by what she realised was orange juice. OJ... orange juice... well it made sense.
“So, tell me. Was it Kristin?-Here's the drink.” Michelle settled herself against the arm of the sofa, opposite Elphaba and nursing her concoction.
“Thank you.”
“No worries. So, was it her? Did she not put out?”
Elphaba sipped the drink and winced. She could taste the juice, but the 'vodka' was absolutely foul. Was it truly meant to be drunk? Or was it meant to be fuel of some sort? But Michelle seemed to have no trouble drinking hers. “I haven't a clue what you're talking about.”
“Okay. Alright.” Michelle nodded. “Was it... Norbert? Did he poke you?”
“I don't believe so.”
“Well jeez, do I have to keep on guessing? I'm your ear, Dee! I'm not meant to talk... or really guess. Talk to me! And drink up.” She saluted with her glass and raised eyebrows, before actually gulping down a portion of it, while Elphaba grimaced and endured another sip. True to her word, Michelle didn’t say anything else. She only watched Elphaba expectantly with a surprisingly gentle smile in place. Her support, while of a pendulous nature, was a far cry from Elphaba’s experience with Joe, and she wondered if the shock of it had caused her to overreact. Michelle didn't seem the sort to conspire or judge with cruelty. Neither did Eden, Kristin or Norbert. But could Elphaba be sure? She hardly knew these people. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more absurd this seemed. Why had she followed Michelle here? To whine ineffectually? No, she wasn't like that... but was Idina? She supposed she should say something.
Elphaba sipped her drink again. Something to give her more time. But the sip was just that, and the halt in conversation had stretched on long enough. “The amnesia. The rib. It's expected that I now return to the stage.”
Michelle's lips pursed as if about to form a word, but nothing came of it. She only watched and Elphaba watched back. Surely that was enough. “I'm not ready.” More silence, and Michelle blinked. Elphaba sipped the foul drink again, gazing off into space wondering just how long she may be stuck here. A week more? A month? A year? The rest of her or Idina's life? “I don't want... to lose this job through unfortunate circumstances. I don't want to lose it at all.”
Finally Michelle seemed overwhelmed or had taken pity. She slowly shook her head, and, yes, there was sympathy there. “You won't,” she said. “There's no way you'll lose the part. They're lucky you don't sue. It's - y'know, since it's their fault.” She swilled the remaining liquid in her glass thoughtfully and Elphaba wondered if she had turned her attention to the strains of string instruments still playing from somewhere. “So it's Joe? He’s the one that's pressuring you.”
“I spoke with him today, yes.”
“Well, he's a dick, Idina. He is. We all know it. He only... he only cares about money. Money and himself. You can't let him get you down.”
“And what if he speaks the truth?”
“Do you feel like you can run about? That you can quickly change costume? Do you feel you can sing properly with a rib that's still healing? I think only you can really know. Not him.” Elphaba nodded, and Michelle smiled again. “Besides. You still don't seem you. Where's all the swearing, Dee? Where's all the laughing and crying, huh?”
“Uh-”
“No, I know.” Michelle grinned. “You need to start cursing again. Everything else will fall into place. You'll lose the random British accent and, hey, you'll remember who I actually am - no, don't lie. You don't remember my favourite underwear do you? Exactly. Now, say 'fuck'.”
Elphaba grimaced.
“Go on.”
“I'd rather not.”
“Go on, say 'fuck'. Like you mean it.”
“I am not cursing, Michelle. It's primitive.”
Michelle laughed, “Ohhh, that is so rich coming from you. Fuck's, like, your keyword. Everyone knows you screamed it at your audition - you'll never live it down. It's your trademark. So, for the love of all that is... enjoyably sinful, say 'fuck'!”
“No.”
“Say it!”
“No.”
“SAY IT!”
“Fuck.”
Michelle erupted into raucous laughter, nearly spilling her drink. “YES!” she cried triumphantly, before calming just slightly, and grinning again. “Feel better?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“You're killing me here. Okay, now, say... 'I like to fuck Kristin-'”
A familiar voice called, “Michelle! You in there?”
“AH! JESUS CHRIST!” Michelle's drink went flying and the woman scrambled to save her carpet. “Kristin? You're evil. You are. You're an evil midget! With bat ears!”
Elphaba turned to see Kristin in the doorway, having seemingly begun inquiring about Michelle's presence from halfway down the corridor.
“Now that's just not fair - Oh, Dee. You're in here.”
“Yes.”
Michelle straightened, grimacing at the darkened patch on the grey carpet. “Well that sucks ass. Damn it. Hey, Kristin? I taught her a new trick. Or, an old trick, but new now.”
“What is it?”
Michelle grinned and nodded at Elphaba. “Say it,” she whispered conspiratorially. “It'll impress her.”
“No.”
“Say it, Dee. Please. For me. Your sister and ear!”
“No.”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Michelle shook her head, returning her attention to Kristin. “I taught her how to swear again.”
“Gosh, that's great - Dee, what are you doing here?”
Michelle walked over to the dresser, plunking the glass down. “We were just chillin'. Right, Dee? Yeah. Just chillin', Chenoweth.” She laughed rather loudly, then walked into the bathroom, muttering about cleaning products.
Kristin turned toward Elphaba with clear accusation in her eyes. “You said you wanted to be alone,” she whispered. “You did, didn't you?”
“I... happened to walk into Michelle-”
“Literally!” Michelle called from the bathroom.
“-and she persuaded me to come here.”
Kristin shook her head slightly. “I can't believe” - she lowered her voice further into a harsh whisper - “you'd rather spend your time with her than me. I just don't get you. It's like you're barely Idina!”
“Kristin-”
“No. No no.” Kristin took a step back. “This time it's me that wants to be alone. Actually alone,” and she turned and marched out of the dressing room.
Michelle returned from the bathroom holding a cloth and shower gel, while looking confused. “Did she just leave?”
“I do believe so.”
* * *
Shiz
She couldn't believe it. It was all wrong! It just didn't make any sense! It had to be a twisted joke. Some idiotic cruel person finding a new way to attack Elphaba. But it was addressed to Nessarose too.
Nessa...
She was wrong as well! What was Maguire thinking! Damn it, it wasn't his fault. He was only - what? Writing a novel about a land that just happened to exist almost exactly as he had written? “Damn it!” Idina cried, hurrying down the corridors and past shocked students. She needed answers. It was driving her nuts. Glinda would be back. She should be. Yeah.
Idina ended up running the rest of the way, clomping along in her huge 'man-boots' as Glinda called them. Finally she was at the room, and she shoved the door open, making Glinda squeak in startlement, nearly toppling.
“Goodness! Elphie! Oh - Oh, my heart! You scared me!”
“I scared you?” Idina turned and quickly shut the door, “I scared you. Sure. Well I have questions!” She whirled round, her eyes wide and frantic as she advanced toward Glinda.
“Questions-?”
“My mother!” Idina hissed, her chest heaving and her face beginning to tingle.
“Do calm down. You seem quite mad,” Glinda urged.
“Glinda, please. Tell me about my mother. Melena. I...” green hands fumbled for the letter and she thrust it in front of Glinda. “I found this! It's from Melena. It says it's from her. But I - she...”
“Elphie...” Glinda reached out, taking a gentle hold on Idina's arms and guided her toward her bed. “I'm not sure what it is you want me to say.”
“Is she... is she al-ow... my face!” Idina recoiled, wincing at the increased tingling that had turned into burning. “I don't.... What's happening!”
“Wait, hold on.” Glinda had jumped up from the bed, dashing into the bathroom. “You don't normally get so worked up,” she explained, then reappeared holding a towel. She quickly settled beside Idina on the bed, leaning over her.
“What are you doing?”
“You're sweating. Close your eyes.”
Idina did, and immediately she felt the soft fabric stroking against her skin. It calmed her, somehow. Maybe it was the soothing quality of no longer burning, or maybe it was Glinda's proximity. She could feel the girl's breath high on her cheek, probably inspecting her work.
“It's the water in sweat, I think,” Glinda whispered, and stroked across Idina's hairline. “Just like how the tears burn too. I suppose that's why I've never seen you cry before this all started, and I've only rarely seen you dab at yourself.” Glinda leaned back, and Idina opened her eyes, watching and wondering if that pinkish hue was a blush. She thought of what to say, but nothing came to mind. Not even the letter still
in her hand.
“You don't seem to have any burns. How do you feel?”
“Fi-” Idina cleared her throat. “I feel fine. Thanks.”
“Calm, I hope.”
Idina gave a slow smile. “Very.”
“Good.” Glinda settled more comfortably on the bed, placing the towel beside her. “You were inquiring about your mother.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, go on.”
“Uh... sorry. Right.” Idina rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. She felt so tired now; far from invigorated as she had been earlier. She had read the letter from... Melena. She had wondered who could be sick and cruel enough to pose as her. She wondered if Elphaba had ever mentioned it. “Do you know how she's... been lately?” But despite Idina's unexpected lethargy, she had sense enough to tread carefully on this matter.
“Oh. Well, we don't... normally talk so much, you and I. And certainly rarely about her.” Glinda winced, “I think she's alright? I, well I... hope she's alright. But, didn't you have a letter? Wouldn't that let you know of her well being?”
Idina returned her attention to the now crumpled letter in her hand. She sighed as she worked to flatten it out and carefully refold it, feeling more than a little guilty. “It was... vague,” she said.
“Oh dear.”
“Mm.”
“At least you know she's alive anyhow.”
And there it was.
Idina's stomach gave a lurch. “Yeah,” she replied distractedly. “Alive.”
* * *
Broadway
A door swung open and then slammed, causing Eden to flinch and swear to herself for not locking it. Wasn’t it customary to knock before entering anyway?
“Aren’t you ready yet, Espinosa? Come on! What’re you doing in there?”
“I’m in the frickin' shower, Michelle,” Eden called, trying not to get shampoo in her mouth. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“Jerking off, obviously.” Eden rolled her eyes and Michelle cackled from somewhere outside. The second worst thing about being a full time Elphaba was having to de-greenify every night. The worst was having to do it with Michelle in the room.
“Did you used to get off to Dee in the shower too?” she asked, trying to sound light-hearted.
“Not usually, because Dee always did it way faster than you.” Michelle paused for thought. “De-greenifying, I mean. Not jerking off. That, she took her time with.”
“Michelle!” Eden choked, turning off the water. “You can’t say stuff like that!”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s been in an accident. And now she’s all hurt and shaken up and it’s not nice.” Eden wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the shower. “You terrify her enough as it is, you know.”
“So if someone’s injured, I have to be nice to them?” Michelle smirked. “Nice towel, chiquita.” Eden rolled her eyes. “So, are you coming?”
“Not anymore. I did that in the shower, remember?” Michelle stuck out her tongue and Eden grabbed her clothes. “Do you mind, Michelle?”
“Not at all.” Eden glared. “Fine.” Michelle turned her back to the wall and started reading the cards and letters Idina had pinned up. “Listen to this: ‘Idina Menzel, I saw the show last Saturday and I think you are the most amazing actress in the world. Because of you, I want to be an actress on Broadway too.’ Poor misguided kid. And ooh look! This one comes with a drawing of Idina on a broomstick! ‘You are my role-model. Thanks to you, my life has been changed, for good.’ Original. Elphaba Elphaba Elphaba. Does no one care about the poor crippled sister in the wheelchair? Sure, she got a little obsessive, but not half as crazy as some of these fans.” She sighed. “Dee needs to remember how popular she was. Somewhere out there, some little girl is praying for her to get better in time for her to see the show for the twenty-third time.”
“What, because I’m not good enough?” Eden joked, pulling on a black shirt and jeans.
“Whatever, Espinosa. You’re my standby too. What’s going to happen if I get sick and can’t make it?”
“Cristy will cover for you, and one of the swings will take over for her. That’s why we have more than one understudy,” Eden said slowly, as if explaining something to a small child. She ran her hands through her damp hair. “Okay, you can look now.”
“Very nice,” Michelle said approvingly, eyeing her up and down. “You could maybe undo another button on that shirt.”
“Stop leering at me. Seriously, Fed.” Eden grabbed her purse. “Who else is coming?”
“Just Chris and us, I’m afraid. Norbert was too tired, and Laura’s out with the boyfriend, again. Okay for some, huh? Kristin’s nowhere to be seen, must’ve gotten out early. Dee went ages ago, and she was still pretty shaken up about that meeting with Joe. Seriously, he needs to give her a break. And Kristin too. It’s not her fault our leading lady fell through a hole in the floor. If anyone, blame Dorothy. Judy Garland always made me nervous anyway. Something about the pigtails… Hey, maybe she was really a werewolf! Or a vampire!”
An hour and three rounds of drinks later, Michelle was still going on about the secret life of Judy Garland as a vampire. Eden shook her head, blocking out the noise as she watched Chris’s expression grow more and more confused. Then Michelle’s tone changed and she tuned back in to the conversation.
“So you should totally go for it!” Michelle was saying.
“What? No way! She’s totally out of my league.”
“Bullshit. You’re starring in a hit Broadway musical, and not only that, but you get to share the stage with me each night. If I can fall for you, she certainly will. Now get out there and go for it!”
Michelle’s voice was so authoritative that Chris stood up and practically ran from the bar, making his way towards a tall, red-haired woman wearing a very low-cut dress. Michelle was nodding with encouragement.
“Mm, she’s not bad. Not really my type though.”
“What?” Eden blinked. “But she’s, she’s a, you’re not-”
“No?” Michelle raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Dance with me, Espinosa.”
She used the same tone she had with Chris, and Eden found herself unable to fight the sheer force of it. She stood up meekly and let Michelle grab her hand and drag her away from the bar, to where everyone was dancing to the beat of some tuneless song. It seemed to Eden not to be music at all, just an excuse for grinding and public groping. She mentioned this to Michelle, who laughed and swung her hips.
“That’s the point, my little chihuahua.” She placed her hands on Eden’s shoulders and Eden shivered. “Come on, girl. Relax!”
“We’re the only two girls dancing, Michelle. People are going to think we’re together!”
“If you should be so lucky.”
That did it. Eden pushed Michelle off her, muttering something about teasing going too far and not having to put up with this shit. She hurried to collect her coat and purse, glancing hack over her shoulder to see if Michelle was watching her. But the other girl was happily dancing with some random guy Eden had never seen before, as if nothing had happened. Eden shook her head in disgust and left without another word.
======================================================