|Emerald Limelight by Lumiére & Callita. R 21/27
||[Mar. 15th, 2008|01:58 pm]
Title: Emerald Limelight 21/27|
Authors: Lumiére and Callita
Pairing(s): Idina/Kristin, Elphaba/Glinda (& more)
Summary: Glinda prompts Idina to try a different kind of magic, while Eden forces Elphaba to muse on Ozian relationships.
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, 250
Chapter 2, Part 1 Chapter 6, Part 1 Chapter 10, Part 1
Chapter 2, Part 2 Chapter 6, Part 2 Chapter 10, 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 9, Part 1
Chapter 5, Part 2 Chapter 9, Part 2
Chapter 11, Part 1
“Can I ask you a question?” Eden suddenly asked, setting down the wooden spoon she’d been using as a substitute for Glinda’s wand as they rehearsed. Elphaba nodded, dropping the umbrella that had been serving a similar purpose as a broomstick.
“As long as it’s not ‘was I really seeking good?’” she half-sang. They’d been rehearsing in Idina’s apartment for three hours already, and she was starting to become just a little tired of the script. Eden laughed.
“Nothing so deep and philosophical, I'm afraid. But I still think that’s your best song, which is a little strange. I mean, considering how you always had the most trouble with that one. But, uh, this isn’t about the show. Not exactly. It’s... about Elphaba.”
Elphaba’s shoulders tensed instinctively. “What about her?” she asked as coolly as she could.
“Just, why do you think she does it? Run away, I mean. She has the chance to, well, ‘have all she ever wanted’. Literally. She finally gets what she’s always dreamed of, but she throws it away at the first hurdle. Sure, the Wizard’s a sham, evil almost, but that doesn’t seem enough. She’d still be tempted, wouldn't she? A little? And if not, she’s still smart. Why can’t she see that she could do so much more good if she just embraced the chance, and worked towards her cause from the inside?”
“You sound like Glinda,” Elphaba said quickly, because it was safe and stopped her having to think. “’I hope you’re happy now you hurt your cause forever’, isn’t that what you’re saying?”
“No, that’s not it. Glinda wants her to forget it, or ignore it, just so they can go back to discovering each other, and maybe work everything out later. She’s growing up for the first time in her life, and she wants Elphaba to share it with her. She’s scared. She needs someone to hold her hand. If you think about it, she’s never actually had a real friend before. Not like this. And Elphaba—”
“Completely ruins it for her,” Elphaba interrupted without thinking.
“Yes.” Eden sounded surprised that she’d been understood. “But why? I’m sorry, I’m phrasing it really badly. I guess I’m asking whether, uh, whether she leaves for Glinda? To protect her maybe, or prove herself?” Elphaba shrugged non-committally. “Okay, another question then, Elphaba and Glinda. Do you see the love story there, or is that just something the bi-curious girls who overload you and Kristin with fanmail invented for themselves?”
“Between Glinda and Elphaba. Whether or not they’re more than friends. A kind of romance.”
One second Elphaba was heading swiftly towards the door, then somehow Glinda’s hands were pulling her face in towards her, pressing Elphaba’s green lips against her own. The contact was only brief, hardly more than an accidental brushing of lips, as if they had bumped into each other in some incredibly peculiar fashion, but this was no accident. Glinda stepped back, shaking slightly. Elphaba’s lips were stinging, like they were trying to decide between being hot and cold.
“Elphie?” Glinda whispered.
Elphaba put a hand to her mouth, then stared in shock at her fingers. The room was suddenly too small, too suffocating, and Glinda’s presence was unbearable. Overwhelmingly. She had no choice. She bolted.
“I… I really don’t think you can simplify it in those terms,” Elphaba stammered as the memory hit her. “You’re wondering whether they're lovers? No. Glinda’s too indecisive for that, and Elphaba’s always worried she’s going to revert back to how she is at the beginning. She can’t trust her. But there may be, er… feelings involved… I imagine. It’s certainly plausible. But I don’t think it’s the sort of thing one can portray on the stage.”
“But that’s not true!” Eden jumped to her feet, her eyes shining. “I’ve always thought the same, especially from watching you and Kristin. There’s a spark of electricity between you two which I think goes beyond just being friends. The relationship you guys are acting, it goes deeper than that. And it shows.”
“Do you think Kristin and I are acting too intimately?” Elphaba asked, beginning to feel dizzy.
“Not now, no, not at all. But that’s to be expected, it’s not your fault. Before your accident, it was like you two had some secret psychic link. The stage literally buzzed around you. And I just wanted to know, well, is that the characters,” Eden stared straight into Elphaba’s eyes, “or is that you?”
“I…” Elphaba had no idea what to say. To answer either way would be to admit feelings she would be forced to deal with, whether here, in Idina’s cursed world, or back in her own. She was no more ready to acknowledge a deeper involvement with Kristin than she had been to accept Glinda’s kiss. She had seen what such unnatural desires could do, ripping apart her family and childhood, then banishing her here, and she wanted nothing to do with them. “I think you’re wrong. I was mistaken, there’s nothing there. Just friendship. Hardly even that. Glinda isn’t the reason Elphaba leaves, she’s not trying to prove anything or protect anyone. She goes because it’s the right thing to do, and she can be… stubborn. That’s all there is to it.”
“If you say so, Dee.” Eden looked dubious. “Anyway, you’ve done great this morning. Really nailed the music and lines, and we can worry about the accent later. We should get going, if we’re going to make it in by 1. You ready?”
Once they were in the cab, Elphaba found herself feeling somehow calmer. Eden seemed to at least know when to drop a subject, which is more than Glinda ever had, and progress had definitely been made. Eden herself was visibly more relaxed: less of the shy, insecure woman who had begged for approval, and more confident, successful actress, carrying a show and almost starting to enjoy it. It made Elphaba smile.
“I meant to ask you, how’s Michelle?” she asked innocently. The colour in Eden’s cheeks rose faster than Elphaba would have thought possible.
“W-what about her? I mean, she’s fine, of course. Annoying everyone as usual, but I guess there’s someone like that in every cast. Just something you have to deal with in this business. Anyway, uh, why do you ask? You haven’t heard anything, have you?”
Elphaba considered informing Eden that she’d just told her everything she could possibly need to know, but she held back. Instead she mused casually, “She’s rather loud, isn’t she? And you’re usually so quiet. You might go well together.”
“Dee, we're really going to have to work on that accent,” Eden scolded mildly, choosing not to answer about Michelle. “I don’t know how you’ve picked it up, you never use words like ‘rather’, but if you want Joe to give you a break, it has to change – and fast. But, uh, before you argue, I do agree. Elphaba’s always seemed more British in her speech patterns than American, and it does fit better with her character... but this is the show, not the book, and compromises have to be made. Come on, they Disney-fied pretty much everything else, and you were okay with that. Just… deal with it? Please? For your sake more than anyone else’s.”
“Suuuure,” Elphaba mimicked, drawing out the word. Eden gave her an odd look and they both laughed. Michelle was not mentioned for the rest of the journey. Neither, thankfully, was Glinda.
* * *
“My my, Miss Glinda, I have to say, you are looking positively ravishing this afternoon. Is that a new hat? Please, let me take your coat.”
Glinda’s expression changed from a slight blush to a warning frown as Tibbett’s hands brushed her chest under the pretence of removing her coat.
“Crope, control your boy,” she requested primly, but Idina caught the hint of a giggle in her voice.
“Excuse me!” Tibbett demanded, patting Glinda’s shoulder. “What makes you think he’s the one in control? Meek as a moth, that one, and that’s without the cuffs…”
“Well, if impressing Miss Glinda is all that’s on your mind, you can have them back,” Crope retorted with mock-jealousy, while Nessarose tried to look disapproving. “Glinda, dearest, you may have him. I give him to you as an early Lurlinemas present.”
“Lurlinemas isn’t for another eight months,” Boq pointed out.
“Then consider him a late one from last year,” Crope countered, winking.
“Much as I appreciate the sentiment,” Glinda said quickly, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. If you’re looking for someone to ‘give’ him to, I’m sure Miss Shenshen would be more than interested. Especially if there’re two of you in the bargain.” Crope and Tibbett both collapsed with laughter, Idina grinned, and even Boq and Nessarose were smiling. “Now, shall we find a table?”
Four days had passed since Idina’s success at levitation, and since then she had only continued to improve. Milla and Shenshen seemed to have made an unwritten pact to keep Pfannee away from her, and with nothing more to fuel them, the scathing gossip had cooled to the point of only a few curious glances on the way to lectures or in the refectory. Things were definitely looking up.
Of course, life at Shiz was still far from easy. Idina had only narrowly escaped being dragged off for a ‘chat’ with two of the professors for failing to hand in work through some hurried persuasion from Glinda. Apparently having magically changed places with someone from another world wasn't an excuse for late essays, she thought wryly. It sounded familiar. The sorcery lessons had had to be disrupted for a few hours of homework each night – homework Idina really didn't appreciate. Wasn't it enough that she had to sleep in Elphaba’s uncomfortable bed, be unable to shower, endure daily humiliation, share rooms with Nessarose and be green, without attempting post-grad level science with an other-worldly slant? Her degree was in performing arts, not biology! Of course, Glinda had helped her. Not that the blonde girl had Elphaba’s flair and natural aptitude for science, but she had made an effort, and together they had struggled through a couple of nonsensical essays. Idina hoped Elphaba was having better luck at her job on Broadway.
Crope and Tibbett had turned up, yet again mourning the fact that they never saw ‘their girls’ anymore, and had demanded lunch together. Idina, who had already decided to give up on a particularly challenging assignment, was happy to take a break. Nessarose had appeared at the last moment and invited herself, saying that Idina could not be trusted on her own in public places. When Glinda had assured her that she would be there, and besides, what could Idina actually do, other than levitate small objects, Nessarose had looked at her darkly and replied that there could be no knowing. Since then, she had made a total of four demon remarks, as well as asking several leading questions about the changes in ‘Elphaba’. If anyone was a liability, Idina thought, it was Nessa, not her.
Still, she realised with surprise, as the group settled down at a table towards the back of the Peach and Kidneys, she was glad she had come. She said as much, and Crope shot Tibbett a knowing look and slapped Glinda on the back.
“Nicely done, Miss Glinda, I’m sure,” he congratulated her. Idina winced, but Glinda just looked puzzled.
“Er, thank you, Master Crope,” she replied uncertainly, which just led to more laughter.
They ordered a jug of beer and a some bowls of soup which was, apparently, all the pub served at midday. Boq sat beside Nessarose and spooned soup into her mouth with surprising tenderness. Idina was reminded of the couple’s perverse relationship in the musical, Nessarose’s controlling nature twisting Boq’s compassion into bitter resentment. But this seemed different, more genuine somehow. It made her smile. And at least it kept Nessa quiet.
“You know, Miss Elphie, you do seem to be glowing a little brighter than usual,” Crope informed her as they were leaving. “No offence meant, of course. But I think Miss Nessie may have hit upon something. There is a change to you, isn’t there Tibbett? What is it?”
“I think we might have our dear Master Avaric to thank for that.” Tibbett winked. “Oh yes, Miss Elphie, you have no idea of the trouble you’re still causing, after your little debacle at the party. And I’m not surprised, not with that truly scrumptious dress. One night at a ball and you manage to break up Shiz’s most infamous couple and cause a commotion they’ll be talking about all the way to the Vinkus! Not only that, but it seems he’s taken rather a shine to you now. You’re turning into quite the socialite.”
“We’re both very proud of you,” Crope cut in. He leered at her and Idina backed away. They were standing just outside the pub doors, and already passers-by were giving them odd looks. She tried to swat Crope away, but he just laughed. “From what I hear, so is Master Avaric. Don’t worry, we won’t tell a soul. But you might want to watch the glowing.”
Even green, Idina knew she must be blushing, feeling the blood rise in her cheeks. She couldn’t decide whether the boys were just teasing her, or if their pleasure came from actually believing it, but the idea of Elphaba finding out that her friends thought she’d done more than argue with Avaric was excruciatingly embarrassing.
“See, this is why you don’t get to see us so often,” Glinda scolded. “Please, as if Elphie would ever do something like that. She has a good deal more sense. And taste.”
“Quite the jealous little vixen!” Crope called after them, but Glinda only laughed and waved behind her. Boq blew a nervous kiss towards them, and Nessarose blushed.
“I do love those two, but the amount of effort it takes to keep the innuendos to a minimum is quite exhausting,” Glinda mused when they were inside their room. “Just so you know, Elphie would never let them embarrass her. She’d just say something back in that sharp voice of hers. But you did well. Now, all that talk of dresses gave me an idea. You’ve mastered levitation, and that’s wonderful, but transportation is a lot harder. You’re going to have to try something more challenging, to develop better control.” She seized the spellbook and flicked through it, searching for a page. “Ah, here we are, glamour spells!” She winked. “I know all about these.”
Glamour spells, it turned out, required an entirely different form of concentration. It wasn’t as simple as just imaging that an object was lighter than air; you had to be able to visualise, to actually see every stage of the transformation you were attempting. Colour changes were easiest, Glinda said, presenting her with a white scarf and instructing her to darken it. Idina had tried, but she had kept getting distracted by little things. The feathered hat resting on the bed that Tibbett had complimented Glinda on. Her unfinished biology essay, crumpled on the desk. The way the hazy light was glinting off Glinda’s slightly ruffled hair. It was playing tricks on her eyes, changing the hue from golden yellow to dusky pink. Less dusky, more pink, she realised. Glinda looked at her questioningly.
“What is it?” she asked, getting to her feet. She caught her reflection in the mirror and gasped. “Oh sweet Oz! Idina!”
Glinda’s hair was bright pink, the same colour as the Ozdust ballgown Kristin wore in Dancing Through Life. She ran her hands through it in a frenzied, disbelieving manner. Even Idina was having difficulty trusting her eyes. She glanced down at the scarf. It remained resolutely white.
“What’s wrong?” came Nessarose’s voice from the doorway. She took two steps towards them, then screamed, “Demon!” and backed away. Nanny helped her in again, nodding approvingly at Glinda’s hair.
“Very nice, Glinda dear, suits you. Maybe you could touch mine up later on? Poor old Nanny’s got more grey hairs than old Yackle – did I tell you about her? Such an odd woman...”
“Alright alright, Nessie, we’ll leave them to it. Enjoy your fun while you can, my pets, before you get too old.”
“I have pink hair…” Glinda was still staring at herself. “I'm ruined. Only ruined girls have pink hair.”
“It’s already starting to fade,” Idina pointed out hopefully. “I’m sorry, I guess I still need to work on my focus.”
“Oh, really, Idina? Really? I should think you do!” But already the bright magenta had become strawberry blonde. Glinda looked a little relieved, but when she next spoke, there was fierce determination in her voice. “Right, Miss Idina, that’s it. I’m not even going to apologise for this, you deserve it.” She went to her dresser and rummaged in a drawer. “On the bed, with your eyes shut. Now.”
Glinda’s burst of dominance was both shocking and oddly… arousing? Idina found herself obeying without even thinking about it. She sensed Glinda near her again and tensed her shoulders.
“Relax,” Glinda ordered in the same tone. “And stay still.”
Idina felt a soft brush sweeping across her eyelids. She inhaled deeply, recognising the scent instantly. It was the smell of dressing rooms everywhere, of the inside of women’s handbags, of the ground floors of department stores. She laughed, and for a second Glinda’s fingers, which had been applying something moist to her lips, brushed inside her mouth. Idina froze and Glinda sprung back.
“I said stay still!” she protested, though her voice was shaking slightly. “You know,” she said after a few minutes, carefully lining Idina’s eyes, “I’ve been trying to do this to Elphie for months now. She won’t let me near her with a brush, says she has no desire to be mistaken for a society girl, and besides, the powder makes her sneeze. You don’t seem to mind though.”
“I’ve been wearing make-up since I was fourteen,” Idina told her, and didn't add that that had been eighteen years ago.
When Glinda finally finished and stood back, directing Idina to look at herself in the mirror, Idina couldn’t help but think of the Popular scene. When she opened her eyes, however, she could do nothing but stare. She wasn’t entirely sure what Glinda had done – there was no trace of garish colour on her face though her lips were a little darkened – but with ten minutes work she had softened Elphaba’s features, bringing out the amber in her brown eyes and making her seem oddly… attractive?
Glinda did not suddenly exclaim that Idina was beautiful, but she was smiling, especially now her hair was back to normal.
“We’ll try the glamour spell again this evening – this time try to focus, alright? And once you’ve mastered that, we can move on to transportation. Should have you back home before you know it. Back with your… Kristin.”
She was still smiling, Idina saw, watching her in the mirror as she continued to examine her reflection, but there was a note of something else there too. It wasn’t regret, but it could have been close.
* * *
“My daughter loves you. My son too. I swear they've seen the show a dozen times. I mean, I've seen it twice – it's good, but those two... man, they're a little nuts, y'know? But, uh, see, I was thinking—hoping, really... that maybe I could get an autograph? It'd really make their day. I don't mean to seem weird, but it's for the kids, y'know? Maybe? I could... see, I have here... a pen? And... and a pad. I could give it to you once we stop. Once we get there. Just a scribble even. Doesn't have to be a masterpiece. That okay, Miss Menzel? Really I don't mean to seem like a nutjub. It's for the kids. That okay?”
A pair of deepset eyes, with shadows sinking beneath them stared at her from the rearview mirror. Elphaba only returned their gaze for a moment, before nodding and turning back to the grimy window of the cab. “That's fine.” She remembered the commotion regarding her speech, and quietly added, “Sure,” as if that simple word would make all the difference.
She no longer grew tense when subjected to the cab drivers' incessant babbling. They all seemed to do it, but she was too preoccupied to care. Instead, she cast her mind to all that needed doing – more important matters, as New York rushed her by in a rare moment of relatively quiet streets. Scripts, blocking, her voice... she had only a day until she would be on that stage, with nearly two thousand watching expectantly. She had heard the press would likely be there too. More pressure for the young girl pretending to be a 'star'.
Again, Elphaba yearned for home. Without Joe and his tantrums. Without Kristin and the tensions she brought. Without this monolithic expectancy of her, when really she was only just hanging on. This arduous masquerade had gone on for far too long – she needed time to breathe.
Once again seated in the chair with Joe transforming her into a mockery of her true self, Elphaba had her eyes closed as her anxieties swarmed her. On the sofa just behind, Eden had taken it upon herself to repeat reassurances as if rehearsed, though Elphaba hadn't voiced a single worry. Maybe it was the set of the jaw, or the tiredness in her eyes that had given it away. Or, perhaps, it was how little she had spoken since arriving, retreating more and more as others bustled excitedly about her. Even now, with Joe working fastidiously, the costumes being wheeled in by the forever whistling dresser, and Eden rambling excitedly (or anxiously), Elphaba remained still and dull. She barely breathed, and wondered if perhaps the beat of Idina's heart had slowed too.
“Tomato,” Eden finally concluded. Only, on Elphaba's continued silence, she said it again with emphasis, “Tom-ay-to. Say it.”
Tongue lurching into action, Elphaba repeated the word mindlessly. “Tom-ah-to.”
“Less of the second 'T'”
She was about to sigh, but a showy soprano melody added to their exercise word, had Elphaba opening her eyes. By the time she managed to focus into the mirror, Kristin had appeared in full costume and smiling far too brightly as she tailed off the trill. A tomato had never seemed so luxurious. Kristin quietened with a giggle, and settled her hands on green thankfully dry shoulders. She winked at Elphaba, who quickly scanned the room more out of unease, than want for knowledge of how the dresser had already left.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Kristin asked.
“Real great,” Elphaba said.
“She's trying,” Eden said, while Joe laughed. “Well, she is. We've been working loads on it, haven't we?”
The rotund hair supervisor waddled in with the wig at the ready, all self important and distasteful. She feigned a smile as she nudged Kristin away and took her spot behind Elphaba, and immediately began twisting Idina's hair close to the scalp. Seemingly having not noticed the shun, Kristin stood next to Eden, beside the arm of the sofa, smiling in such a proud way that Elphaba had the urge to glare at her rather than the woman rudely groping her head.
Joe was waving the mascara, and said, “Do you want to—?” but Kristin cut him off. “Strange thing,” she said, “Dee and make up no longer get on. I'll do it.” Elphaba warily watched her advance, all blue and voluminous, but Joe tutted and held the stick away from Kristin.
“If this stuff gets on you, Susan's going to castrate me,” he warned.
The hair woman chuckled and said, “She will.”
“See?” he said. “I'll do it. Eyes wide, snow pea.”
This time Elphaba's sigh managed to escape in all its glory as she acquiesced. She heard Kristin 'harrumphing' then asking Eden if she had warmed up as if Elphaba was unable to answer for herself.
“Yeah. I helped her,” Eden said.
“Aw,” Kristin cooed, “Our baby's growing up.”
“I resent that,” Elphaba said. “I'm hardly a baby.”
“American...” Kristin trilled.
“Oz, will you sto—”
“Eyes!” Joe said. “Open! And look to the left.”
“She's getting into character,” Eden pointed out happily, and Elphaba's heart missed a beat.
She mentally corrected that she was, in fact, slipping out of character, and stupidly so. She slowly exhaled a breath. The uncomfortable tugging on her scalp finally ended, then a band of material was placed over her hairline before the wig was settled on top. “How does it feel?” the woman asked, preening the edges and looking for any stray hairs.
“Fine,” Elphaba said. She was already growing hot and increasingly uncomfortable, but doubted the woman cared.
“You're going to k-i-s-s me!” A costumed Norbert exclaimed from the doorway.
Eden yelped, while Joe laughed yet again.
“You're going to kiss me lots, Dee.”
“Wonderful,” Elphaba muttered.
“Joe did mention that,” Kristin said. “It needs the most work, and the end of Defying Gravity.”
“I know,” Elphaba said.
“Just reminding you, sweetie.”
“We could practice now,” Norbert said, puckering his lips for good measure and making Eden blush. He recoiled when Kristin swatted him on the arm and rubbed the offended spot. “Watch it!” he cried, “This is the best Winkie red vest around!”
“Vinkus,” Kristin said.
“Whatever. Dee? Kiss me!”
“She doesn't love you anymore,” Eden giggled.
“You'll love the films I brought for tonight. You'll want to kiss me then.”
“Costume time,” the dresser said, having returned. “Get an eyeful, or leave.”
“Charming,” Kristin said.
“I'll stay,” Norbert said, but was ushered out by Eden, Kristin and Joe. He made his displeasure very known.
The dresser watched them go, whistled briefly, then began issuing stern orders. “Okay. Strip down to your underwear.” Elphaba slowly got up from the chair, feeling even more glum. “You need to get used to this again,” the woman said. “No time for modesty. You'll need to do quick changes tomorrow, and you're re-learning how to do it today.” She readied the lopsided skirt for Elphaba to step into. “Y'know... I heard Maguire's coming to your performance. Gregory Maguire. So no coming on half dressed.”
Like ice water to her daze, Elphaba froze mid-motion, staring the woman in the eye. “The man that... wrote of Oz...”
This time, everything was being used, but the live orchestra. The light effects including the projections, as well as microphones embedded in the wigs and costumes. Doing scene after scene, stumbling in the wings and backstage with the dressers in attempt of getting the costumes on in time. She wasn't shadowing Eden anymore, since Elphaba had fully learnt the lines, and the blocking was near seamless. Of course they didn't realise who they had swaddled in costume cloaks and green; they wouldn't know how lucky it was that her memory had always been of a particularly sharp standard – in her own body, and curiously, this body too. It would take most months to do what she was attempting, and for all intents and purposes, succeeding. She had managed in just a week. But perhaps Idina also played a part in Elphaba's quick induction to this; Idina's body seemed to still possess some form of muscle memory. How Elphaba would catch herself doing things a different way than she was used to; how the body would dial numbers on the phone quicker than she could recall them, or roll the shoulders when the neck ached – something she never did before. But these things were impossible to tell. Whether there could be a ghost of Idina still left, and vice-versa, or if Elphaba was more studious and therefore quicker to adapt than even she expected.
Some things, however, seemed insurmountable. Such as kissing Norbert. And keeping her wits about her while rising high in the air on that damned contraption. Yet another reason to feel relatively safe in the story of the 'Wicked Witch of the West' being mostly fiction. Elphaba really was not particularly good with heights. Not in the slightest. Only sheer force of will kept her singing during that torturous end to Defying Gravity, and even then, it took considerable time for her to regain her composure once down.
After walking hand in hand with a gangling Norbert, and tearfully singing how Kristin had changed her, the day of rehearsals finally ended with loud applause from cast and crew alike. On returning to the main area of the stage, Joe even grudgingly accepted that her performance was passable, while Eden held two thumbs up from the wings, grinning. It made Elphaba smile until Norbert decided to pick her up and twirl her around, squealing that the diva was 'kinda' back. Michelle shouted for him to 'quit molesting her' before calling him a whore, and finally the burden seemed less.
“Gosh, I was stuck up there for too long,” Kristin grumbled, flicking glitter from her shoulder. “So the movie night at mine...”
“The movie night?” Elphaba questioned. She jerked back when there was a sudden burst of the finale again and Joe started shouting at the technicians.
“We've been talking about it.”
“We have,” Norbert said. “I have DVDs. The best ever.”
Somewhere behind them, Eden squealed and Michelle cackled. Carole passed with Joel beside her and patted Elphaba on the shoulder, congratulating her on her 'new wonderful Elphaba' and Joel tipped is Wizard hat at her, before they left the stage.
“See? Everyone loves you,” Norbert said.
“Kristin!” Michelle called, wheeling toward them in the chair, Eden following behind. “Is it on?”
“Dee?” Kristin prodded.
“I have Finding Nemo,” Norbert said. “Can't beat that.”
“He also has Showgirls,” Derrick said from behind them. “He told me. All that girl-on-girl action – Melissa! Where're you going!”
“Coffee!” the woman replied, as good as running offstage as fast as her Ozian rags could allow.
“Woman! You've had enough!” He then ran after her.
“There's something wrong with her,” Eden mumbled.
“Tape worm,” Michelle said.
“I'm laughing my fucking anus off, Eden. Seriously, my asshole is on the floor quivering at the moment. It's that funny.”
Kristin gasped, while Eden stuttered, “H-how... can you... say that?”
“With depressing ease,” Michelle sighed.
“Er,” Norbert said.
“Dee, come on, sweetie.” Kristin said, reaching for Elphaba's painted hand. She stroked the back of it with her thumb, as if that would persuade her. Elphaba stared at it. “And we'll be careful of our voices of course. Celebration of reaching our crazy goal.”
“Well, I...” Elphaba murmured.
“Say yes!” Michelle cried. “The suspense is killing me! And my anus!”
“Will you shut up about your anus?” Eden groaned.
“What's with the anus talk, guys?” Chris said, coming to a stop beside them.
“It's just us,” Kristin said. She peered at Chris, who was watching her hopefully. “And the Munchkin boy.”
“Look who's talking,” he muttered with a flush to his cheeks.
“Sure,” Elphaba said. “I'll come.”
“Thank you!” Michelle cried and launched up from the chair. “Toilet time.”
“Meet at stage door! Half an hour!” Kristin called. “We're taking the cars,” she said to Elphaba. “It'll be like a procession... of...”
“Fish,” Norbert said. “Little Nemos.”