The sound of fireworks echoed off in every direction, their bright and magnificent colors could be seen for miles, the way they were every year on that fateful day; the anniversary of the death of the Wicked Witch of the West.

It had been the fifth year those fireworks were used.

The fifth year that the people of Oz danced in the streets in remembrance.

And also, it was the the fifth year that Glinda, Throne Minister of Oz, stood on her balcony and watched the celebration; the smell of sulfur burning her nostrils and the feeling of hot tears trailing down her face.

For five years, she had lived without Elphaba, something she never had wanted to even think about when her and the beautiful green woman were roommates. Of course, they had "hated" each other at first, loathed one another, but Glinda had found herself quickly falling for her unconventional friend very quickly. She never mentioned a word of her feelings to Elphaba, something she regretted deeply every day of her life.

She tried telling herself that the sadness would pass, the heartache would cease, and that she'd move on.

This was not the case.

Every day it seemed as if her longing for Elphaba, her desire for Elphaba, her need for Elphaba to be alive again grew larger in scale. Especially when standing upon that balcony watching those damned fireworks off in the distance. Every day she heard Elphaba's voice. She could feel Elphaba's touch. She could see her within her dreams. Every day her mind teased her and reminded her what had been taken so horribly from her grasp. And because of that, the sadness would not pass, the heartache would not cease, and Glinda could not simply move on.

This day would be different from the others though.

Glinda jumped slightly every time a firework went off, never getting used to the noise. She stepped closer to the railing and laid her hands upon the cold metal. She stood like that and mindlessly watched, the celebrations usually going on for hours; there was no use trying to ignore it, let alone sleep through it, so Glinda had no choice but to watch.

The woman was so out of touch, lost in that moment, that she barely even felt the slender arms wrap around her waist and a figure press up against her. It didn't phase her or scare her. It simply felt as it always did when she could practically feel like Elphaba's presence was near. That's what she always referred to it as; a presence.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" The husky voice whispered. Glinda could, in her mind, practically feel the breath on her neck.

"I hate what they represent." Was Glinda's reply, her voice quiet and broken.

"And what is that?"

"That you're not here."

The 'presence' laughed. "You know, they're all so small minded idiots down there, dancing about and such. Think of it. Something so innocent as water, something that gives life to every human, every witch even, could bring about something so terrible as death upon one of those said humans or witches. Like I said … idiots."

It was that statement that made Glinda stand up a little straighter. Never had the presence spoken so much before. It was only usually little sentences here and there, or even just a whisper of the blonde's name. Her heart began skipping beats in her chest.

"What do you mean?" Glinda whispered, feeling mad for practically arguing with a presence of all things. "I watched you die Elphie … I watched you die. You're not here. You're simply a figment of my mind, like always. You're not here." She tried to tell herself more than she tried to tell the 'presence.' Her voice thick with emotion as the sordid memory, the horrible echo of Elphaba's screams rang in her ears once more. Though, despite this, a little glimmer of hope flickered in the back of her mind but she shook it off. It was a mad thought. A mad mad thought. "You're not real."

"Not this time." It whispered backed. "Not this time my sweet."

Glinda let out an exasperated and shaky breath. She leaned back more into the figure, feeling them, their arms still around her waist, grabbing slightly at the fabric of her dress around her hips. The blonde preyed one hand off the metal railing; lifting it shakily backwards over her shoulder, past what sensed to be the figure's head, and slowly latched her hand together to grab a fistful of silky hair at the base of their neck. She heard the figure hiss in her ear, a slight chuckle following. Glinda herself let out a small sob from her pink lips. She shook her head.

"I'm so confused." Glinda whispered in admittance, beginning to hyperventilate.

"Turn around." They replied.

"No."

"Glin."

"I can't.

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid."

"Of what, my sweet?"

Glinda paused for a moment. "That this is some horrifying trick."

"Glinda … Let go of my hair and the railing … and turn around."

Tears rolled down her face, Glinda's head spinning. Nothing mad sense. Nothing had made sense since Elphaba had left her life, but this? She had no clue what was happening, no clue what was truly real anymore within that moment. After another hesitant pause, the frottican did as the figure said; slowly releasing her grip on both the long locks and the railing. The figure pulled their arms away from Glinda's waist and she felt their body move away and take a step back.

Glinda wiped her eyes and took a moment. She knew whether or not what was behind her, she was going to break down. If Elphaba wasn't truly there with her, that her mind had played the most horrid trick of all, she had no idea how she could handle that. She felt the same if Elphaba really was somehow behind her. There was only one way to find out. Finally, with a boost of confidence in herself, the blonde exhaled and turned quickly. A loud sob left her lips at what she saw before her.

"Hello sweetie." Elphaba whispered, her own eyes gleaming with tears.