Perception of Beauty

A/N: To anyone reading 'Overcoming Adversity', more should be on its way soon-ish. :)

'Why Miss Elphaba. Look at you…you're beautiful.'

The honey-tones of Elphaba's roommate's infuriatingly sweet voice might have been a bullet in her chest, only there was no blood, just an outpour of an unexpected surge of devastation. Elphaba's first instinct was to smash the looking-glass to remove the sight of her own reflection as quickly as possible, but she withheld, wary of incurring Galinda's wrath which would surely ensue if her prized possession was destroyed. Instead she settled for ripping her eyes away from the image of that sickly pink flower in her hair, and the tiny bit of make-up that Galinda had succeeded in getting on Elphaba's face while Elphaba had resolutely protested her efforts.

Against her will, she could sense that awful feeling in her chest which occurs when one is about to cry, and quickly squashed it down. How ridiculous, to stoop to the level when one mourned beauty, or their lack thereof. It was a pastime for fickle, shallow females such as the very one who had brought about this incident – the bereavement of smudged eyeshadow, or lipstick on one's teeth – but if one was to bereave their lack of beauty, Elphaba would spend her whole life grieving, which rendered such an activity rather pointless.

She could not fathom, therefore, the reason why she had lost the ability to speak, her voice overwhelmed by the lump in her throat which seemed to be growing at a rapid rate. Galinda certainly was not aggrieved by the incident, instead beaming down at her roommate as though she had achieved a feat worthy of a gold medal. Then again, the giggly blonde was not one for such deep and dark perceptions of beauty, seeing nought but the trivial idea that just a little bit of make-up did indeed make Elphaba look prettier. And Elphaba did not disagree – she could tell for herself, in the few seconds she could bear to look, that her features had become softer and more feminine in spite of her skin being green.

'I have to go,' she muttered, and fled the dormitory.

She was vaguely aware that anyone who she should happen to walk by would probably find her appearance quite shocking, but then again, her appearance tended to have a shock factor regardless. She herself did not give much notice for the other faces, her eyes blurred with unshed tears that she refused steadfastly to release. Perhaps it was better that she did not see, because then she would not seek out the pretty, popular faces of the campus and make comparisons. In such an instance, the differences between her own face and theirs, which were not so apparent in the sanctuary of her dormitory, would immediately become clear and shatter that beautiful illusion that she might be something more than ugly.

Then again, she knew she ought not to allow herself any semblance of belief that such a thing might be the case. Making her way outside, she quickly wandered into the grassland. It was, as so many people had eloquently put, a place where she could 'blend in'; and henceforth, she could easily hide herself from the world. The grounds themselves were adorned with tall oak trees and rows of flowers. Elphaba found it somewhat ironic that such a 'greenified' area was considered beautiful by a majority of the Shiz population and briefly wondered if they were all colour blind to not notice that it was the same colour they so vehemently mocked with regard to Elphaba's skin.

That said, the Emerald City is considered one of the greatest beauties in all of Oz, but that doesn't change a damn thing, she thought, with a wave of revulsion.

She brushed off the twinge of hurt which threatened to emerge. Matching colour regardless, it didn't make her beautiful. Even without the green, Elphaba knew that she would look into a mirror and see a too sharp bone structure, long nose and a grimace of a smile. The green did little else but cause those features to look freakish and outstanding – as if the green itself wasn't outstanding anyway.

Perhaps it had been the light which had tricked Galinda into thinking there was any form of beauty present whatsoever. The dorms weren't particularly bright – a consequence of taking board where there were mass numbers to accommodate and not enough maintenance funding. It would have been far too easy to ignore the green when it was difficult to see. Elphaba herself, in those few seconds of seeing her reflection, had been able to put it to one side for the briefest of moments. She had looked, to her astonishment, rather a lot like Nessarose, her sister who was considered 'tragically beautiful'.

But that was just the light, of course.

Illusion or not, though, Elphaba faintly recalled the smallest, most inconsequential emergence of excitement, which she had quickly slammed a lid on. From the get-go, she knew she would have no choice but to force herself to forget that she had seen the potential for prettiness in herself. It was, quite simply, a no-go area: A falsity; a fleeting, desperate hope that she couldn't possibly allow. She would never be so desperate as to place that much importance on something as trivial as her own appearance.

It was ridiculous.

She wondered, then, why the tears continued to threaten now that she had declared the situation insignificant; why she felt a well of anger in the pit of her belly when she considered Galinda's sincere (or possibly insincere) compliment. Never one for flattery, her typical response to anyone who tried to be nice was not to run away like a scared dog. The norm of her being on the receiving end of sweet words was to retort with a snarky statement that said words were ridiculous for whichever obvious reason that usually amounted to her verdigris. Today ought not to have been any different, if not for the fact that Galinda really had sounded sincere, and Elphaba had found herself fraught to deny what she had seen in the mirror.

That sort of sincerity, she believed, was meant for other people. Groups of friends at Shiz would frequently gush at each other's outfits, compliment their latest accessories, aid each other in the endeavour to look pleasing to the eyes of men as they got ready to attend the OzDust ballroom. In reality, many compliments might be insincere as the girls competed to be the most outstanding out of all of them, but there was still an element of acknowledgement and appreciation of all their outward appearances.

But never towards Elphaba; never towards the green girl.

The tears found their escape.

Elphaba directed them towards the ground so that they wouldn't burn her cheeks, but could feel her eyes itching already. Any semblance of beauty, whether perceived or real, would now be gone, washed away by the blistering wetness, leaving little but swollen red eyes and puffy lips and cheeks. It was for the best, she thought, that she snapped herself out of the precious illusion and did not delude herself of things which would never be real. Make-up and hairdos and beautiful dresses were better left for girls like Galinda Upland, whose bright smile and blonde curls garnered the love of the entire university.

As for herself, she would retreat back to the safe planes of unattractiveness, knowing that it would do nothing to draw away others' attentions from her verdigris, but also knowing that the attentions that came her way would be familiar ones. She wiped her sore eyes on her sleeve, got up off the ground and brushed away the grass' residue. No one would ever know this little moment had occurred. The tear marks might leave a faint indication, but Elphaba could have as easily been caught in the rain.

Upon her return to Room 22, Galinda was busy removing the last of her make-up before retreating into bed. She turned around, placed a hand on her hip and looked at Elphaba with a slight pout on her lips. Purged of the cosmetics, the obvious glamour was replaced with a glowing innocence which still looked beautiful.

'Where did you jet off to?' she squeaked.

'Oh…I forgot a book I needed from the library.'

It was a lame excuse. With the library closed at this time of night, even Galinda would know it was a cover up. The blonde stared at her for a second, then nodded and turned around. Elphaba let out a small sigh of relief. She had succeeded in remaining the sole keeper of the secret emotions which could never be divulged, but as she turned around and got ready for bed herself, she couldn't help but remember her fleeting reflection in that little hand mirror, and wished that she could see it again.