Dedication/Disclaimer: For Emily, who does not own Wicked anymore than I do- this is her Christmas present (hence the pairing).
You're perfect
You're perfect
So we're perfect together
Born to be forever
Dancing Through Life!
She was a dork.
It was a truly amazing discovery, but as Elphaba stared at her roommate, declaring against all odds that she- Elphaba Thropp!- would be popular, she knew it to be true. Despite all the elements to the contrary- the adoring fans, the perfect hair, the expensive and- ahem- tight-fitted outfits, it was absolutely undeniable now that she had seen the blonde girl dance- if you could even call it that.
She appeared to be calling onto some ballet technique of her own invention- one that did not require any grace, merely jumping around like a small child who has feasted upon one too many sugar tarts during the winter holiday. She was like a sugar tart herself, a glow with frivolous energy that seemed like she never would crash. She'd stumble, of course, as one could only do when she was twirling around without any preamble or training- not to mention when you attempt all that at sunrise after a night without sleep.
How anybody could have that much energy in them- and at such an hour!- was beyond Elphaba's comprehension. The green girl felt as if she was going to slip into slumber at any moment, but at the same time she felt a pleased warmth in her stomach that she was still awake. It was odd, because most of the time she enjoyed only a good book over sleep- both were excellent ways of escaping reality.
That's when it struck her- that's why she had managed to keep awake. Because for once, she was enjoying the moment she was actually in- not one she had to transport herself to in order to keep from going mad. She wouldn't miss this performance for anything, this display of carefree naïveté that she herself would never have the pleasure of enjoying. How lovely it would be if she was young enough in mentality to be able to toss, toss, all her troubles out the window.
The other girl was saying something now about her clothes- she was going to change her frock into a ball gown. Elphaba, in spite of herself, nearly giggled: the idea of her, the ogre, in a princess's outfit was almost too ridiculous to bear- and yet she found herself looking forward to it.
The REAL princess of their shared quarters had a comical look of importance plastered across her dainty face. "Ball gown!" she cried, gesturing grandly. Nothing happened. "BALL GOWN!" she commanded again, in a squeaky voice that dared the wand to disobey it.
The wand accepted the dare. The blonde in turn flipped it on its side and inquired in earnest, "Is this thing on???"
Elphaba had her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Sure she would not be able to contain it at all if this went on for much longer, she prompted: "Maybe if I-?"
The "Golden Girl" of Shiz turned into an obstinate two year old- and not the bitter, disagreeable kind Nessa had been. She insisted with real, pouting determination: "no, no, I got it I got it."
She didn't get it. But she wasn't thwarted. Elphaba wasn't sure she ever could be. "Just wear the frock," the blonde declared jovially, "It's pretty!"
But how could a frock be appealing next to a ball gown?
"Now for the finishing touch-"
She removed the rose from her hair, still not wilted despite the rough evening it had been put through. The girl's vibrancy was contagious, Elphaba supposed, and tensed as the other girl's pale fingers brushed her ear as she secured the petals there.
The blonde smiled. "Why Miss Elphaba," she said, blue eyes sparkling, "you're beautiful."
Elphaba felt herself give a tiny smile too. She looked at the girl who had done this to her, then into the mirror she had offered. Her reflection showed the same blissful expression Boq had while looking at the blonde, at all the young men who came within a foot of her. In that moment, Elphaba realized with horror just what this feeling was.
"I-I have to go," she stammered, and was out the door as quickly as she could manage.
Galinda grinned to herself, completely unperturbed with her roommate's abrupt departure. She flitted over to the bed, admired her reflection in the mirror, and- while still lying on the mattress- began to dance wildly again. Because no matter what, Galinda Upland always got what- and who- she wanted.END