Chapter Eleven:
The mid-morning sunlight seeped lazily over the white sheets of Zelena's bed. It hopped over the edges of her legs, crawled diagonally up her stomach, and finally came to blare annoyingly into her eyes. She twitched slightly then sat up, stretching her arms high above her head then letting them crash haphazardly back to the bedspread. She reached over to the nightstand and the slim sliver phone resting there. She flipped it open and the cheerful loading screen pinged with the words, "you have one new message."
Zelena wracked her morning-addled brain for the correct buttons to press but somehow got the short message to play back.
"Hello Ms. Mills. I hope you are having a wonderful Sunday. This is Mrs. Reynolds from Marie Christine Domestic Products. I am calling to let you know that your application has been accepted and we have a secretarial position waiting for you. If you could start work tomorrow that would be wonderful. Please call if there are any scheduling conflicts we need to address. Work begins at 8:30am. Just enter through the front doors and tell the girl at the front desk you are looking for Mrs. Levino. Again wishing you a wonderful day and congratulations."
Zelena raised one eyebrow slightly; she seemed to have received this job awfully fast. Oh, well. No looking a gift horse in the mouth. She had one whole day to craft her new identity. It wouldn't do to enter this job as the Wicked Witch or even as the professional businesswoman she had presented herself as yesterday.
Zelena hopped out of bed, wincing as her feet touched the cold floor. She took a rapid shower and a light breakfast, wanting to not waste a minute that could be spent on creating her personality. She was quite gifted at this art, having perfected it during the days of Regina's curse that she had spent back in Oz. Those had been some interesting twenty-eight years. She shook her head free of the memories.
Zelena stood in front of the mirror, gazing herself up and down, trying to figure out what identity would work best. She waved her hand and small red-rimmed glasses appeared, the clear nose-pads perfectly fitted and the frames stretching comfortably behind her ears. Without magic, such a feat wouldn't be possible. They were the exact same color as her hair and as she turned her head from side to side, posing like a little girl, she found the person she was going to be.
Another wave and her hair was up in a tight bun at the back of her head with two slightly curly, slightly wavy strands of hair framing her face. Her makeup dimmed a little, blood colored lips fading to a more plush toy pink and sharp black wings of eyeliner shrinking back to the bounds of her eyes.
A white button up and brown and green plaid skirt looked cute together but they were missing something. Ah, a cute lime colored sweater to go over the undershirt. Brown leggings, a simple gold necklace and black loafers completed the look fully. She smiled at the mirror.
Jaclyn Mills, 22 years old. She grew up with one sister and was always looking to be helpful to the people she met. Jaclyn was a serious hard worker but could be persuaded with a little pushing to have fun. She was conscious of her personal limits and always on time. Currently single, and had no experience it dating whatsoever. It was perfect.
Laughing softly to herself Zelena made the comparison. Zelena Mills, also 22 years old. Grew up alone with an abusive father and cares for no one but herself. Extensive experience with dealing with and dealing out emotional pain. No interest in love and would sooner make up with her evil sister than deal with the ridiculous complications that came with it. Wow, maybe she'd gone a bit too far from form with Jaclyn.
She still needed to give it a test run though and wasn't really in the mood to stray far from the building when he was somewhere out there. Zelena hurried down the steps, easily making the trip to the front desk now that she was compensating for loafers rather than stilettos. She approached the doorman casually and smiled at his shocked reaction to her appearance.
"Has Miss Nicene left her room today?" Zelena asked innocently.
"No," the doorman retorted. "It is a Sunday and while not many of our patrons are religious, few wish to go anywhere on a Sunday morning."
"Would you mind telling me what room she's in?"
"Actually I would mind that, it's private information."
"Oh please, I need to talk to her."
The doorman shook his head resolutely. Zelena sighed. She could kill him, but that would raise all sorts of hullabaloo. The type one likes to leave behind when one leaves for others to clean up but is not easy to deal with. She sighed again and gave the doorman her most exasperated expression.
"You have a deep, old, wound on your leg caused by a curse. I can break it. Give me Nicene's room number and I'll help you. I'll even do it first."
The doorman stepped back, seeming horrified she'd seen his weakness so easily. A tiny hint of what might have just been respect shone out of his eyes and he realized anew just how powerful she was. He stepped out from behind the counter.
"Heal it. Then you can have her room number. But if you hurt her I'll bring this whole building down on your head."
Zelena internally flinched at the thought of facing so much magic but shot back, "Awww, look who's concerned for the people he hosts. I'm not looking to hurt her. We just need to talk."
She waved her hand at the doorman, feeling her daily power supply deplete dramatically, but deciding it was worth it to get what she needed for work tomorrow. The healing actually took her about half a minute, having consisted of breaking an awfully powerful curse. Zelena couldn't help but wonder who'd have been powerful enough to cast such a curse on the doorman and what he'd done to deserve it.
The doorman waved his leg from side to side, proving to Zelena just how old the wound was. The man looked like he hadn't walked in decades.
The doorman tipped his hat to Zelena and strode back behind his desk, a new confidence straightening his spine. He flipped through some papers then looked back up at Zelena, "Her room is 208. I hope you have a wonderful Sunday. Ma'am."
Zelena's lips parted a little. The doorman was genuinely smiling at her, the same way Nicene had made her do the night before. How strange. She shrugged off the randomly warm sensation that echoed in the hollowness of her chest and walked back towards the stairs, heading for room 208.
When she arrived in front of shiny room number plate, she knocked twice then heard the patter of footsteps and the rustle of clothing. The door opened quickly and Nicene gasped as she took in Zelena's appearance.
"You look so…..boring."
"I know. Let me in and I'll tell you why."
Nicene quickly obliged and Zelena walked back into the suite. It was not much smaller than her own yet the bed was set off to the right of a small hallway and the rest of the rooms were all situated on the left. Small wall hangings gave the room a colorful glow as did the multicolored silks draped all over the furniture.
Zelena ran her hand over the surface of a peach colored one and was unsurprised to feel it bursting with magic. Augmenter witches often stored their power in objects as it consisted of only a single power boost and thus had to be quickly accessible. Silks were a new one but knowing the little she knew about Nicene, Zelena was not all that surprised.
Nicene led the way to a small kitchenette and sat down across from Zelena on a matching white wood chair. She suddenly sat bolt upright and rushed over to the stove as the kettle shrilled its cry. She opened another cabinet to balance a second tea cup in one hand then carried them and the pot over to the table. Pouring both of them a steaming glass, Nicene continued the line of questioning she had begun on the threshold.
"What's the story behind the game of dress-up?"
Zelena blew over the top of her teacup patiently. "I'm starting work tomorrow and need to test out my new personality. You seemed as good a person as any to try it out on."
"Translation: I was bored and you are the only person I know."
Zelena laughed. "My, you are quick." "Yes, I needed someone's help, and you were the first person I could turn to."
Nicene wiped her tea-spotted hands on a small dish towel. "No problem. Give it a go."
Zelena shifted in her seat then raised her eyes to look at Nicene. The other's eyes widened imperceptibly as she beheld the absolutely docile expression on the face of the Wicked Witch.
"Hello, my name is Jaclyn Mills. I'm the new girl, I don't suppose you know where I should go?"
Nicene grinned maniacally. "Of course Ms. Mills, right this way. Do you take coffee?"
"Thank you ma'am but I only drink tea. It's better for my health."
Nicene snickered. "Too bad. Alright everyone, this is the new meat, Jaclyn Mills. Try not to eat her alive on the first day."
Despite all her efforts to the contrary, Zelena snorted at that one and the tea sloshed out of the cup spilling all over her blouse.
"Shoot!" Nicene exclaimed and stood up immediately. She rushed off to the bedroom, calling back, "Take that off quickly, you'll burn yourself!"
Zelena pulled the shirt off and Nicene ran back in, handing her a baby blue hoodie that her new companion slipped over her head. She waved away Nicene's rapid apologies and glanced down at the shirt she was now wearing, trying in vain to read the print upside down. After a couple seconds she finally got it and burst out laughing, setting the table shaking again. Both she and Nicene reached out and snatched the teacups from the table, holding them high in the air until the shaking stopped. There was a silence and they set the cups back down.
Then Nicene giggled and before either of them knew it they were in hysterics again. And for a brief, blessed moment, they weren't two female sorceresses trying to make their way in a strange world but two little girls, the purple haired one kicking the air in her fits as the red haired one continued to fall deeper ever time she glanced at her shirt and the inscription whose bubble letters spelled out, "I'm not a normal witch, I'm a cool witch."
"Of all the shirts you could have given me," Zelena gasped.
"I know, like, what are the odds?" Nicene cackled.
They settled down slowly and Nicene gestured the soaked shirt Zelena was still holding. "You can just put that in the wash, I'll give it to you tomorrow morning."
Zelena shook her head and unfurled the shirt, discretely making a waving motion with her other hand. As Nicene stared at the clean shirt in shock that mood hit Zelena that always hits anyone after laughing. The desire to laugh some more. So she waved the shirt dramatically and proclaimed, "Look, magic!"
Nicene giggled again, shuddering at stressing her abused sides. "Ok, ok, we need to stop before I die."
"Alright. Back to Jaclyn."
The two witches spent the rest of the afternoon discussing Jaclyn's character and how she'd approach certain situations. By the end of the session Zelena felt she had quite the handle on the character and even Nicene praised her rapid assimilation of the identity. She thanked Nicene for the tea and the help and they parted on much more positive terms than Zelena had ever experienced with someone.
Purple and pink light shone through the small stairwell windows as Zelena climbed back up to her room on the fourth floor. Her cheeks ached from laughing. It had been ages since anyone had made her laugh genuinely. The last time may have been some time during the curse years or if not then way back when she was but a babe in the arms of her adoptive mother.
An image flashed through Zelena's mind of her sister's confident smirk as she destroyed each carefully placed piece of Zelena's puzzle cube plan. Then Rumple's powerful grin, the ageless hatred of the Dark One compounding upon his own dislike for Zelena every moment he met her eyes.
The sound of her own footsteps disappeared. Zelena tried to move forward but her legs wouldn't make another step. Instead she found herself turning to the side and sitting down against the far wall. The dying light shone over her face and she felt her mouth fix in a smile as she remembered once again how kind Nicene had been. The blinding block of light blurred in her vision.
She brought a hand up to her face, tracing the solid line of her smile then moving up to her eyes. Her fingertips dragged upstream of a rapid liquid flow, dividing it like a rock in a brook, the stray droplets falling off her knuckles.
It was strange. She was smiling. She was happy. But she was crying, harsh, bitter tears that filled the pores of her cheeks, rendering her skin unnaturally smooth.
Her shoulders shook but no sound escaped her throat. The only sound was that of the blinding afternoon light and her shoulders banging against the hollow wall. Her smile faltered and her hand flew back down to her mouth covering her shame as the shaking turned to whimpers and gasps, stripping away all of the Wicked Witch until she was nothing but a small baby in the basket with the green bow, screaming from inside the body of a twenty-two year old, as hollow as the wall she laid on.
Author's note:
I give Zelena so much grief, good lord. This chapter was a doozy to get out but I did it for you, dear readers. Also, thank you so, so, so much for reviewing. Every comment just makes my day and I think I've actually cried over how sweet some of them were. Thank you for supporting me as I attempt to stumble my way through this story.