|Emerald Limelight by Lumiére & Callita. R 17/?
||[Jan. 24th, 2008|04:43 pm]
Title: Emerald Limelight 17/28|
Authors: Lumiére and Callita
Rating: R (language)
Pairing(s): Idina/Kristin, Elphaba/Glinda (& more)
Summary: The morning after brings drama for Glinda, while Elphaba struggles with other aspects of Idina's life.
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, 436
Chapter 2, Part 1 Chapter 6, Part 1
Chapter 2, Part 2 Chapter 6, Part 2
Chapter 3, Part 1 Chapter 7, Part 1
Chapter 3, Part 2 Chapter 7, Part 2
Chapter 4, Part 1 Chapter 8, Part 1
Chapter 4, Part 2 Chapter 8, Part 2
Chapter 5, Part 1
Chapter 5, Part 2
Chapter 9, Part 1
“I am so sorry.”
Elphaba lowered the wad of paper, peering at the blushing woman across Idina's living room. The woman who, again, would not look at her, and seemed to suffer from a severe case of blushing. “It's alright,” Elphaba said again, and meant it, but it didn’t reassure Eden, who blushed, staring down at the same page she’d been looking at for ten minutes.
“But, really. I...” Eden's eyes strayed and she seemed to stare at the hardwood floor just past her feet in a traumatized way. “I really didn't—don't... want to impose. It wasn't my idea.”
“I know,” Elphaba said.
“And, y'know, he's scary.”
“He hopes to be.”
Half an hour of going over lines since Eden turned up rather early, and still she was apologizing profusely. She hardly looked Elphaba in the eye; she was so painfully shy, and Elphaba couldn't help but feel as if Eden were younger than her. A girl uncomfortable with herself and her surroundings. She seemed so out of her element. Did the sight of 'Idina' really cause the woman such distress? With folders, sheets of paper, cups of tea (and snacks Eden had insisted helps the process) strewn about the living room, they seemed to have everything they needed to tackle the daunting, and actually absurd, task of readying Elphaba for the stage. And yet their progress was minimal. They had been working through the script, with Eden reading most of the other characters, as well as Glinda in an amusing approximation of Kristin's voice, and giving pointers as to how 'Elphaba' would be feeling at certain moments in the story. Of course, the irony was not lost on Elphaba, who nodded along, encouraging shy Eden who could read the script just fine, but stumbled on her own words. Throughout this, Eden would pause, and blush, and stutter, then apologize and visibly force herself to focus. It was still early, but Elphaba – who had never lacked focus at any point in her life – was getting vaguely frustrated... despite the Vicodin. She watched Eden blindly thumb through the pages of her tattered booklet, and hoped she wouldn't pass out from all the blood going to her face. And so with a steady intake of air, Elphaba decided it was perhaps time to address the problem.
“Eden.” Of course, the woman jumped, her head whipping round with baleful, instantly apologetic, wide eyes. “You seem tense,” Elphaba slowly explained. “You're blushing.”
“Am I?” Eden squeaked.
“I think so.”
“Oh.” Eden nodded, then turned back to the booklet. She cleared her throat. She then sipped her tea, cleared her throat again, reached for a nearby solitary piece of paper, then went back to the booklet. Elphaba watched her with an eyebrow quirked, and Eden glanced at her, then blushed all the more.
“What's the matter?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Are you ill?”
“I don't think so.” Eden shook her head, biting her lip, then placed a finger on the page. “Shall we...? We should – focus, yeah. Erm,” she cleared her throat. “So... going from... where we left off... scene 5. I'll be Dillamond.”
“Right,” Elphaba quietly said. She knew what happened to her late professor in both the book and the musical already, and despite both being wrong on quite a few significant details of her life, her chest still tightened at the mention of Doctor Dillamond. The thought that she couldn't continue her campaign for Animal Rights here. Had she really tried? It wasn't the same, but it felt wrong somehow. As if she no longer cared for Dillamond and all that he stood for.
“Settle down, now. I have read your most recent essays, and I am amazed to report the progress!” Eden read with added gruffness. Elphaba looked up at her, watching the concentration. A hint of a cruel smile... or... no. This obviously wasn't mocking. Eden wasn't mocking him, and... it wasn't him. It was a character. Just as this 'Elphaba' were a character based on her. “Although, some of us tend to favour form over content... Ms Glinda—It's Galinda—Excuse me... Glinda.” Eden took a breath, and shook her head depreciatingly. “I really don't see what the problem is. Every other professor seems to be able to pronounce my name.” Eden looked up, and whispered, “It's you. Indignant... kinda haughty.”
“Maybe pronouncing your precious name isn't the sole purpose of Doctor Dillamond's life,” Elphaba read. “Maybe he's not like every other professor. Maybe some of us are different.”
“Oh! It seems the artichoke is steamed!”
The familiar jeer had Elphaba barely biting back a reflexive scathing comment. Instead, her eye only twitched.
“Class! Class! Miss Elphaba has a point!” Eden canted her head to the side, reading the page from a lopsided angle. “Well, this is where they all start laughing, I guess. He – I mean, it's obvious, right? They just... they just laugh at her. Really... badly...” Eden's voice trailed off.
Elphaba watched her fidget then lose focus. “Eden,” she said, and the woman grimaced.
“Am I doing this right?” Eden snapped the script shut. “This feels backwards. I mean, really backwards, y'know? I...” She shrugged helplessly, her brows furrowing into a frown. “I shouldn't be teaching you this, Idina.” The script fell to the floor with a thump and Eden shook her head. “Me,” she said, “teaching you.”
“Well, I've managed to remember my first scene. At Shiz...” Elphaba smiled, “That's good, isn't it? Even if we don't do more of the songs before we leave, at least that's almost done.”
Eden glumly nodded.
“And, goodness, I hope I'm not too terrible at being Elphaba,” Elphaba said, chuckling.
“No. No, you're... good. Really different, somehow. But... great.” Eden was blushing all over again. Eyes on the papers around her, rather than Elphaba.
“How are you finding it?”
“Finding what?” Eden mumbled.
“Being Elphaba. Any easier?”
“I'm still making mistakes. That doesn't get any easier.”
Elphaba nodded, then smirked. “And I suppose Michelle constantly poking you doesn't help.”
“Oh my god,” Eden moaned, burying her head in her hands. “You've noticed it?” she muffled. “She pokes me. She does.”
“And gropes you.”
“And gropes me.”
“Onstage and off.”
Elphaba laughed at the mortified woman. “What's the problem? At least she has arms.”
Eden raised her head, regarding Elphaba in shock. “God, can you imagine if she didn't?”
“She'd have to either kick you on the hind, or utilize a well placed stick.”
Eden gasped. “Dee!”
Elphaba held her hands up in retreat. “It's simply amusing.”
“Horrifying,” Eden moaned.
“That you don't return it? Or that others are aware of it?”
Eden only returned her face into her palms and mumbled something quietly, while Elphaba marvelled at having actually... gossiped and teased. It was light-hearted. Perhaps this face was more used to smiling, Elphaba thought. She felt better for it. A little, at least. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“I don't think so,” Eden muffled, still bright red.
“Scene 2, Eden.”
“No, I'm not seasick. Yes, I've always been green. No, I didn't chew grass as a child.”
Eden peered at her. “Are you sure? I thought everyone chewed grass.”
* * *
Glinda had already left by the time Idina woke up, the combination of high emotions and strong alcohol from the night before causing her to oversleep. She forced herself not to think about the conversation with Glinda – she’d obviously freaked the poor girl out so much she didn’t even want to look at her, and Idina couldn’t really blame her. Finding out that your friend had disappeared and the girl you’d been sharing a room with was a stranger from another world? It couldn’t be easy. Idina tried not to wonder whether she’d just lost her only friend here. Her head was throbbing, and, she realised too late, Elphaba’s body probably wasn’t used to alcohol. She thought back to her last hangover, and its dizzying consequences – compared to that, this was easy. With any luck she might fall through the floor again, back to her own world and the promise of coffee.
Getting home was the aim. In her excitement about the party, Idina had almost lost track of her goal. She had to master Elphaba’s talent for sorcery and find a way to switch them back. She wondered briefly whether Elphaba herself could help her, but quickly dismissed the idea. Elphaba had some skill as a sorceress, and surely would have already performed the necessary magic from Broadway if she had been able to. Unless she was enjoying Idina’s life so much she didn’t want to leave? The thought made Idina’s blood run cold. It couldn’t be, surely. Elphaba would hate New York, with its constant rain and traffic and far, far too many people. Idina found herself missing the sensation of being stuck in a traffic jam. She shook her head; she had been here too long.
Teleportation, that was the key. And with this in mind, Idina spent the remainder of the morning closeted in a far corner of the library, reading with a newfound determination every book she could find on the. As she read, things began to make more sense. Teleportation was not one of the most difficult spells to achieve, requiring hardly more power than levitating a heavy object. However, the technique needed to control the spell was far above anything an untrained sorcery student could attempt, and without it, it was impossible to predict where the said-sorcerer would end up. Idina could easily imagine Elphaba, powerful but untrained, ignoring the warnings and letting her raw power transport her further than she’d ever intended. Theoretically, that power now rested with Idina, if she could only learn to channel it.
There were practice exercises, which Idina attempted, like trying to move a pencil from one end of the desk to the other without it crossing the middle. These, she failed miserably. It was like the damned levitation all over again – just saying the words wasn’t nearly enough. There had to be more to it, a certain mindset that would suddenly make anything easy. Idina remembered that, in the musical, Elphaba could only perform magic when she was especially angry or emotional. She tried one of the exercises she’d learnt at drama school: emotional memory, where the actor remembered, in detail, every aspect of a memory associated with a particular emotion, and therefore succeeded in generating that emotion. She cast her mind backwards: to the humiliation of the night before, the shock of realising she was trapped in Elphaba’s body, the sickening hurt when Kristin pushed her away and asked her to leave, putting an end to all Idina’s hopes from the last few months. The pencil remained resolutely still. Idina gave up.
She gathered her books together and made her way outside, blinking at the harsh light of the corridor. She wondered how long she could keep this up for. Coming clean to Glinda had not gone as well as she’d hoped, but was there really any other option? Maybe if she just went to the teachers, to Madame Morrible even, explained the whole situation and begged for help, something could be done. Elphaba couldn’t have been the first student to make a mistake with a spell and end up switching places with a Broadway actress from another world, could she? It probably happened all the time. Which… might well explain a lot about Julia Murney. Idina laughed to herself, until the thought of yet another friend left behind made her achingly homesick.
She heard the raised voiced before she turned the corner, but the sight still made her stop dead. A little way down stood Glinda with her back to Idina, taking verbal abuse from the ever-more-pleasant Pfannee with tense shoulders and nervous glances around her. Idina knew she should turn back the other way – they hadn’t seen her, and another encounter like the night before would be bad news for everyone. But she gritted her teeth and walked briskly forward.
Heartbreak and humiliation, Milla could see, had had an obvious effect on Miss Pfannee. But far from suppressing her cruelty and pettiness into weeping depression (something which Milla could have dealt with – Shenshen did it all the time), these new emotions had added an edge of hysteria to Pfannee’s lust for conflict. The girl was mentally unstable.
“I don’t know what to do!” she whispered to Shenshen as they hurried behind Pfannee in search of someone to take revenge on. Shenshen nodded worriedly.
“Me neither. She’s completely out of control! I thought last night was bad enough, but this is madness!”
Milla blinked at Shenshen’s earnest anxiety. Shenshen had sobered up entirely from the night before, and looked positively solemn. If ditzy, dreamy, sex-obsessed Miss Shenshen was taking things seriously then it was even worse than she’d thought.
“Glinda!” Pfannee shrieked as the unsteady blonde girl appeared through a doorway. Glinda stared at the terrifying apparition of red-faced, glaring Pfannee, and half-turned to flee back inside. “Don’t even try. We need to talk. That’s what friends do.” There was a nasty sneer on the word ‘friends’. Milla shuddered and reminded herself never to get into Pfannee’s bad books.
“Good morning, Miss Pfannee,” Glinda said shakily. “Did you sleep well?”
“As expected.” Milla wondered if Glinda had noticed Pfannee’s red-rimmed eyes and tearstained cheeks, and decided that she would have to be blind not to. “Don’t look so frightened. I told you, we’re all friends here. I just want to have a chat. Now, where is she?”
“Who?” Glinda saw Milla’s mouthed warning and quickly amended, “Miss Elphaba? Oh, I haven’t the faintest idea. I left early this morning, you see. I wanted to have a walk around the grounds before breakfast. It’s such a beautiful morning, very clear and sunny, wouldn’t you say? I certainly haven’t seen her since.”
Glinda’s tone was light and carefree, Milla thought, impressed, but it didn’t satisfy Pfannee. Pfannee placed her hands on her broad hips, and Shenshen clasped Milla's hand nervously.
“I said,” Pfannee hissed, taking a step towards Glinda, “where is she? Where’s that whore you call a roommate?”
“Isn't that taking it a bit far?” Glinda stammered. “I mean, she’s not actually a whore now, is she? I admit, her behaviour last night was a little, erm, unrefined, but she really can’t be blamed. A girl like that, raised in the savage lands, well, it’s to be expected, no?” She was speaking fast now. “We can’t possibly judge her by our standards. She’s not one of us. She’s just—”
“Are you standing up for her?” Pfannee demanded.
“No, of course—”
“No, but I am.” All eyes turned to Elphaba, who had appeared from nowhere behind Glinda. She stepped forwards, staring down at Pfannee with blazing eyes. The image of such a tall, gangly creature facing off the plump, diminutive Munchkin girl would have been comic, if there hadn’t been palpable blades between them. “I can stand up for myself, thank you.”
“You! You whore! You evil, frog-skinned bitch!”
“I think it’s a little hypercritical to be calling anyone a bitch, don’t you?” Elphaba retorted. Milla gasped and Shenshen’s hand tightened around hers. No one spoke like that to Pfannee. “Especially after your behaviour last night.”
“Well I wasn’t the one having a raging lovers’ spat in the middle of the ballroom!”
“No, of course not. You were the one who turned up uninvited only to flirt with my fiancé!”
“He’s hardly your fiancé, from what he told me.” Elphaba laughed hollowly. “And for your information, I was invited.”
“Um,” Shenshen said quietly, glancing at Milla. They exchanged guilty, nervous looks, and Milla cursed herself for letting it all get so out of hand. It had seemed like such a good idea in the privacy of their bedroom, with Shenshen assaulting the porter boy and showing off her new dress. Just a clever joke to get Glinda to see sense, something to laugh about afterwards. But if they weren’t careful, things were going to get seriously—
“Girls! Look who it is to see you!”
—out of hand. Milla winced as Avaric turned the corner with Boq beside him. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse.
“You’re not allowed in here,” she protested meekly, but no one paid any attention to her.
“Come for her, have you?” Pfannee snapped at Avaric. “Come to take your little grasshopper mistress?”
“Please!” Avaric laughed nastily. “Me, fornicate with a vegetable? Surely you know me better.” He leered over Pfannee’s shoulder. “I’d much rather screw Miss Glinda.”
Glinda squealed and went bright pink as Pfannee turned to her with a murderous expression in her eyes.
“I came to check that you were alright, Miss Glinda!” Boq called from the other side of the group, waving to her. “After last night, I thought—”
“My best friend!” Pfannee screeched, her voice veering into ultrasonic heights. Milla decided not to be offended that Pfannee has chosen Glinda as a best friend as opposed to her, since, currently, she wouldn’t have switched their places for the world. “My best friend and my fiancé!”
“Since when?” Avaric sneered. “You didn’t honestly expect me to marry you, did you? Hah! Oh, the presumption of the upper classes. You won’t let me fuck you but you expect me to propose!”
“Language, please!” Glinda said desperately.
“Language, Avaric,” Boq agreed, tugging on his friend’s sleeve. “Look, they’re obviously fine. Maybe we should go.”
“What do you say, Glinda?” Avaric smirked, ignoring Boq. “You and me against the cathedral wall, tonight. You can bring Green Bean too if you want. We’ll have a good time, I promise.”
And then Pfannee lunged for Glinda and everything suddenly became very confusing.
The confrontation, though exactly what Idina had been trying to avoid, was nonetheless absolutely exhilarating. She had been a total doormat since arriving in Oz, relying on Glinda for everything and getting on by avoiding trouble. But trouble had somehow managed to find her all the same, and Idina was not going to argue. Well, not with Fate anyway. With Pfannee… Hell yeah.
But she hadn’t expected anyone to get hurt. Idina had never actually been in a real fight, all highschool disputes settled through words and bitchiness as opposed to actual violence. She was stunned when Pfannee came at Glinda, an explosion of clenched fists and kicking heels, like a raging bull in a Spanish circus. Boq dived forward to protect Glinda, elbowing Shenshen in the process, who toppled in Avaric’s arms. Avaric ran his hands quickly up Shenshen’s front, before leaning in to try to pull Pfannee back. But then Glinda flew backwards, hitting the opposite wall with a sickening thud, and everything stopped.
“Glinda!” Idina cried, rushing to her side. Glinda was lying on the floor, groaning quietly. “Glinda, what happened?”
“You…” Glinda choked, but passed out before she could finish the sentence.
Idina looked down at her fingertips. They were smoking. Pfannee was huddled on the floor between Boq and Avaric, looked utterly perplexed. Milla was staring at Glinda in horror. The others were all looking at her. Idina realised she was shaking, unprepared for the rush of energy that had pulsed through her. She hadn’t even known what she was doing.
“Was that… me?” she asked shakily.
“I think so,” Boq confirmed, wide-eyed.
“I didn’t mean… that is, I wanted to protect her. To stop her.” Idina indicated Pfannee, who had stumbled to her feet.
“We need to go,” Milla said desperately, firmly taking one of Pfannee’s arms. Shenshen took the other, and together, the two girls supported their friend as far away as possible. Avaric was already looking bored now that the show seemed to be over. Idina saw him roll his eyes at her, before sauntering off as though nothing had happened.
“Is she alright?” Boq asked, joining Idina beside Glinda.
“I hope so. I think she just fainted.” Idina gently stroked Glinda’s arm. Glinda, still only semi-conscious, yelped. “We should get her to the infirmary.”
“I’m not sure we ought to move her…” Boq said doubtfully. Idina sighed.
“I’ll go get help then. But you should leave. You’re not even allowed to be in here.”
“But—” Boq protested. Idina shook her head.
“I’m not having you get into trouble because of me. She’s not going to die, and I’ll let you know how she’s doing later.” Idina glanced down at Glinda. “Trust me?” she begged.
Eventually Boq nodded and hurried off before anyone caught him. Idina was left alone with Glinda, considering the best person to go to for help. Probably Nanny, she decided, yes, Nanny would know what to do.
It wasn’t until she was sprinting up the stairs to the room that Idina began to consider the implications of what she’d just done. Magic? No way…
* * *
“I wanted something to remember her by,” Elphaba snarled at Kristin. “All that were left of her were those shoes, and now that… er, farm girl has walked off with them! So I would appreciate some time alone to say goodbye to Nessarose.”
“Wretched little farm girl,” Eden whispered. “And it’s ‘my sister’. But good!”
“To say goodbye to my sister, right.” Elphaba closed her eyes again. “Nessa. Nessa, please forgive me.”
“Oh Elphie, don’t blame yourself,” Kristin squeaked, flinging her arms around Elphaba. “It’s dreadful, it is, to have a house fall on you, but accidents will happen.”
“You call this an accident?”
“Yes. Well, maybe not an accident.” There was an expectant pause. “It’s you again, Dee?”
“What? Oh, sorry. Well what would you call it then?”
“A regime change. Caused by a bizarre and unexpected twister of fate.”
“Probably best to pause there,” Eden cut in. “They usually laugh at that line.”
“Why?” Elphaba asked, confused.
“Uh, well, because it’s a play on words. Twist of fate... twister... Get it?”
Elphaba buried her head in her hands. They had been at this for nearly an hour and what had begun as a slight tingling at the back of her head had turned into a raging headache and the sensation that her brain had tied itself in a knot. It wasn’t that she couldn’t remember the lines – well, she still made mistakes, but she’d always had a good memory and it was easy to remember them when someone else filled in the other parts – but more the overwhelming sense that she shouldn’t be doing this. True, the scene she was currently rehearsing involved events that hadn’t yet happened – and never would, she had decided firmly. But she was still, in some twisted, tangled way, attempting to play herself, or rather, a distorted avatar of what someone else had decided she ought to be. The experience took surrealism to a level Elphaba could never have imagined. She also had the uncomfortable feeling that it was going to get even worse.
“We can’t all come and go by bubble!” she said with feeling.
“Uh Dee, we’re not there yet,” Eden reminded.
“I know. I just like that line. It’s amusing.”
“O-kay.” Kristin and Eden exchanged looks. “Anyway, you’re doing great. Really getting to grips with the script.”
“At this rate you’ll be back onstage in no time,” Kristin agreed. “Not that there’s any pressure on you, obviously, right Eden? We’re just, uh…”
“That’s my line!” Kristin said in mock-protest. “Stop confusing her. She has enough to remember as it is, don’t you, sweetie?” Elphaba made a non-committal grunting sound. “We should probably get Norbert in if he’s around, then we can do that scene in the Wizard’s Hall.”
“Kristin, it’s 6.30! We’re not on until 8 – no one else going to be here for ages! We’re not all neurotic about turning up hours early, especially not Norbert.” There was the sound of footsteps, then a knock at the door. Eden held up her hands as Chris shyly poked his head round. “Okay, so Chris is neurotic too. Whatever.”
“I am not! I just came to ask Kristin if she had any coffee or anything lying around. We’re out again.”
“Sorry honey. I’ve just got mineral water. Eden?”
“Sure, it’s in my dressing room. One second—”
“Nooo!” Chris thrust his crossed fingers out as if to ward off a demon. “I tried that toxic waste you call ‘herbal tea’ once before, Eden Espinosa! Never again!” He grinned at her and disappeared, leaving Eden looking almost hurt.
“It’s not that bad, is it?” she defended. Kristin giggled and looked away. Elphaba shrugged. “Fine. Your loss. Anyway, I need to shower before greenifying, and I want to do that before Michelle turns up and drives me mad.”
“Have you tried locking the door?” Kristin asked sweetly.
“Yes! Michelle’s got her hands on the spare key – look, don’t ask. I’ll see you onstage.” She turned to Elphaba who had gone back to studying the script. “Come talk to me if you want, Dee, when you’ve finished with Kristin. I mean, the script. Finished the script. Uh…” She picked up her coat from the sofa and hurried to the door. “Bye then.”
“She’s become so skittish recently,” Kristin mused. “Can’t think what’s up with her. Now that you’re back in rehearsals, Joe’s laid off her a little, thank goodness.” She kicked off her boots, then pulled her sweater over her head, revealing a fairly low-cut vest-like top.
“I should probably go,” Elphaba said quickly. “You have to get ready, and I wouldn’t want to distract you.”
“Don’t be silly, sweetie, we’ve got loads of time,” Kristin assured, pinning up her hair with a clip. “Eden’s right, I do get here insanely early sometimes, especially on non-matinee days. Besides, I can still help with your lines. Just give me a second to shower, and then we’ll pick up where we left off. Sound good?”
But Kristin had already disappeared behind the screen into the small shower cubical. Elphaba could hear the sound of water running, as well as Kristin humming to herself. She fidgeted nervously – was it customary to be in the same room when someone else was showering? True, she couldn’t exactly see Kristin, but it was still a little, well, intimate, wasn’t it? But then, she’d been present when Glinda undressed dozens of times; that’s what happened when you shared a room with someone. Idina and Kristin were such good friends, so maybe this was normal for them.
She still caught her breath when Kristin came out of the shower, with only a small towel wrapped around her. Her hair was twisted into an untidy knot above her head and her skin glistened with water. She smiled and sat down next to Elphaba on the sofa. Elphaba was very aware of how close Kristin’s bare leg was.
“Do you want to carry on with the scene?”
“Er, now you wait just a clock-tick,” Elphaba recited as fast as she could remember it. “I know it must be hard for that blissful blonde brain to comprehend that someone like him could actually choose someone like me. But it’s happened. It’s real. And you can wave that ridiculous wand all you like, you can’t change it. He never belonged to you. He doesn’t love you, and he never did. He loves me.”
“Good!” Kristin complimented, leaning in. The towel slipped down a little, revealing more of her ample bosom than Elphaba was expecting. “I’d slap you here, of course.” She reached out and tapped Elphaba’s face gently, her fingers still moist from the shower, then stroked her cheek. Elphaba waited for her to withdraw, but the blonde kept her hand where it was. Kristin’s lips were suddenly a lot closer than she remembered. Elphaba could count the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes and fruity scent of the soap Kristin had used.
“F-feel better?” she stammered.
“Yes,” Kristin whispered seductively, leaning in even further. “I do.”
Elphaba sprung to her feet. She was remembering the massage Kristin had imposed upon her, soft fingers working their way all over her back. She had thought the uncomfortable arousal the result of her own uncontrollable hormones – it had happened before, after all – and nothing more, but if that was the case, why had Kristin blushed so deeply and left in such a hurry? And hadn’t Laura mentioned something about Kristin and Idina leaving a bar together? She didn’t know whether it was anything to go by, but she didn’t really want to find out either, and letting a practically naked Kristin kiss her in a dressing room was definitely not a good idea.
“Ihavetogo,” she blurted as quickly as she could, before dashing out of the room. She needed fresh air, and some time alone. Some time where she didn’t have to deal with Idina’s problems.
“Well that was a great idea, Kristi Dawn,” Kristin muttered to herself after Idina had literally fled out of the room.
After the slight disaster with the massage, she’d promised herself not to try anything like that again. What was important was letting Idina recover in peace, not trying to seduce her as if the poor girl didn’t have enough to worry about. So what if she didn’t remember kissing Kristin in the taxi back from the bar – well, being kissed, but it had definitely been both ways – and ending up almost having sex at Kristin's apartment? Besides, she, Kristin Chenoweth, had been the one to stop and make her leave, freaking out as soon as things got just a little out of her depth. She’d wanted Idina to forget about the whole thing and stop those ridiculous puppy-eyed looks, so they could go back to being friends without all that awful tension between them. And Idina had done just that!
And yet… Kristin was not happy. She began her warm-ups, but her heart wasn’t in it, and her soaring arpeggios kept turning into snatches of recent pop-songs. How could she have been so stupid? Twice now she’d sought out physical contact with her friend, trying to induce memories of lust and attraction. It was a terrible thing to do! If ever she’d doubted Idina’s amnesia, this proved it. She’d looked absolutely terrified! Kristin sighed as her dresser came in to help her with her costume, the white Shiz skirt fitted secretly under the bubble dress to save time on the costume change. It made her too hot.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your five minute call,” came the disembodied voice of the deputy stage manager. Kristin picked up her wand and went to get clipped into her bubble. For once she was glad that it was Eden, not Idina, she would be sharing the stage with.