Author's Note: Heyloo, everyone! As per usual, I would like to thank everyone for their reviews.
Haha, so, this was going to be the last one, I swear it! But then…I got carried away and before I knew it, I had a whole pre-dance chapter. :D Not my fault. Now, here begins my rambling…read at your own caution.
Okay, so, I am in desperate need of a tote bag. Okay, a desperate want. But kinda need. And so there was this really nice looking beach-y one from Abercrombie and I really liked it and wanted to buy it but it was thirty dollars! Why does a stupid bag have to be way beyond my budget? I swear, their clothes are so overpriced. I only buy their clearance items. But…I want that bag. -huffs- Target has some almost-as-nice ones, but not as nice. And American Eagle has their always-there totes, but I want a summer one. Hel-lo, there are seasons! ;) Haha, I sound so superficial but you know what? I need a tote.
I was in audition-full Choir this past weekend; you know, you audition and then you (and all the other peeps) get three days with a guest conductor before you have a concert? Yeah, well, I had heaps and bounds of fun. I'm sad it's over. :(
Reminder: The Wicked Challenge is sorta-kinda picking up! If you wish to be among those beloved people who will be participating, then participate.
Other than that…read, review, and enjoy!
Oh, by the way: You totally love my reference to the, ahem, "bestest song" in the world.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Wicked because one: I'd be rich (I'm not) and two: I wouldn't be writing on FanFiction because I wouldn't be the fan, I'd be the people the fans loved.
Title: The Dare
Rating: T
Summary: When Fiyero participates in a game of Truth or Dare, he receives the challenge of a lifetime: become quite intimate with the Green Girl. The prize? One hundred thousand dollars. The result? You find out. And PS: Bonus points for actually...loving her.
Elphaba
Friday's classes came and went and everyone was abuzz with excitement over the Fall Ball except for Elphaba, who still couldn't comprehend why this dance was more important than Animal Rights. But she did understand that Fiyero wanted to go, and it would be, well, rude to refuse to go, so she would go.
Gosh, the things she did for love.
Meanwhile, she still had help an excited blonde fit into her dress. Which, in fact, was not from Louis Wizzon but Ozstroms, as they didn't carry any dresses in her "large" size of four.
Ever since she lost her eyesight, Glinda had shucked her strict dietary rules for a more laid back eating system. Well, laid back for her. Because in Elphaba's opinion, consuming only a bowl of porridge for breakfast and a sandwich and glass of fat free milk for lunch and supper was far from filling. Except, she admitted, even just that added on to her body weight.
"Glinda, are you sure you're only a size four?" Elphaba said, grunting as she tried to pull the dress down over her head.
"I'm," grunt, "sure," grunt, "it's just a tighter fabric than I'm used to."
After about ten minutes the blonde was finally settled inside her frilly pink dress, unscathed. The dress, however, had a tiny snag on the right shoulder but what Glinda didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
"Elphie," She announced, once she was accustomed to the constricted airspace in her lungs, "I need makeup."
Elphaba looked at her warily. "Uh…that's nice."
"I wasn't finished. You see, you are putting it on for me!"
"How about not?"
"Elphie, please? I just have to look my best for Boqalicious and make them boys go crazy."
Elphaba chose to ignore Glinda's odd language and shook her head. "There is no way in Oz I'm applying your makeup."
"Pretty please? I swear it's not as hard as you think. Besides, we can bond."
"Bond?"
"Yeah! Girls always bond when they make each other all pretty. It's like…wow. Amazing. So you mean to say you've never held a girly bonding session before?"
"Um, no."
Glinda emitted a pitying sigh. "Such a sad, sad childhood you lived," she said sadly.
"Old news," Elphaba said, dismissing the unnerving topic, "but besides. I feel like we're swellacious friends already!" The words were meant to be sarcastic but apparently Glinda still had trouble grasping the concept of sarcasm, for she raised a finger to shush her friend.
"Don't. Just don't."
"Don't what?"
"Invent your own slang. Don't even use established slang. It really doesn't sound right on you."
"Thanks," Elphaba replied dryly, "but I – I was just – oh, never mind. Seriously, though, how am I supposed to give you a makeover? Do I…Lurline, do I have to paint your nails?"
"Well, yes, but you also use makeup!" Glinda exclaimed, slightly perturbed that someone did not know the essentials of feminism.
For once, Elphaba found herself not knowing how to do something. And that was slightly perturbing as well. "Fine. Where is your makeup?"
"There is a bright pink bag under the bathroom counter."
Elphaba sat up to retrieve the cosmetics bag and returned a clock tick later, sifting through its inhabitants with a bewildered expression on her face. "My Lurline, you could pretty up all of Oz with this junk."
The blonde huffed at the disrespectful remark. "That is not junk in there. Elphie, we're talking about the finest makeup you can buy: Wiznique, Ozma Lauder, Neutrozgena…shall I continue?"
"No, thank you."
"I thought so. Now, take out a small pink circular…thing."
Elphaba took a brief look in the bag before replying with, "Well, that narrows it down by about two items. Care to indulge me with a little more detail?"
"Sure thing! It says Wiznique on the side and on the bottom there is a label that says "Perfectly Pink".
After much shuffling and searching Elphaba found the aforementioned object, which she now recognized to be a tube of lipstick.
"Okay, I have it. So…I just glide it along your lips?"
"Duh. Um, I mean, yes."
Elphaba tentatively began to apply the pink lipstick, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration. She was so focused, in fact, that when Glinda offered a word of encouragement, she jumped in the air at the sudden sound and consequently drew a pink line across the blonde's cheek.
"For the love of Lurline, Elphaba, it's not that hard," Glinda exclaimed.
"Sorry, um, how do you get it off?"
"My goodness," Glinda sighed. "Find the jar of makeup remover in there; I'm pretty sure it removes lipstick streaks."
Once it was located, her green roommate rubbed a makeup-removing pad along the stain, finding it much harder than she had originally anticipated. What in Oz was lipstick made of? Whatever it was, it was definitely one of the most almost-permanent substances she had ever come across. It could be used as a colored pen or something.
Lips now perfectly pink (in both senses), Glinda instructed her friend to find a red tube amidst the pile of cosmetics. This was an easier task, considering the low quantity of red-cased makeup, especially only one of which was round.
Elphaba unscrewed the top and, once she realized its purpose, rolled her eyes. "Mascara? Glinda, is this even necessary?"
"Yes! I used to put it on everyday, you know."
"Oh yes, I do remember…"
"Miss Galinda! You're going to ruin your mascara. Lurline, stop crying. If anything, you should be crying that you're ruining not only your mascara but your image of a fine, ladylike young woman," said the other girl.
Applying the mascara was easy, but it did require more concentration than the lipstick did. The procedure took over ten minutes and by that point Elphaba was becoming irritated with the process of girl-bonding.
"Can we bond some other time? Because I, for one, have had enough bonding."
"No, you haven't! Elphie, all we have left is blush and…and that's it. Come on, I'll skip nail polish for you," Glinda bribed.
Elphaba pondered this for a few clock ticks and then gave in. If Glinda would actually give up something important to her in favor of her friend, then maybe she should do the same.
"Okay, I might as well finish what I've started," she agreed and picked out one of Ozma Lauder's blushes as directed. This time she felt more confident with her makeup skills so she boldly stamped the thick brush in the salmon pink powder and swiped it along the cheek. Except the thing is, confidence doesn't necessarily relate to skill.
Such as in Elphaba's case.
To sum things up in a nutshell, Glinda had must have been might embarrassed, for she was blushing.
Really blushing.
Really not-so-natural blushing.
"How's it going?" Glinda asked nervously.
"Just a little too much on one corner," Elphaba lied so as to obviate the blonde from freaking out. She extracted a second makeup removing pad and tried her best to scrub that damned makeup off, but to no avail. In fact, the furious scrubbing only further reddened her cheeks. "There! It's good."
"Very good?"
"Very good," Elphaba affirmed. Overlooking the blush, she added, "You look very pretty, Glinda."
"Thank you. I have to say, you did a pretty good job for a first makeover; wasn't this such a good learning experience for you?"
"What do you mean, a 'learning experience'? You mean to say this was only a learning experience?"
"Well, duh," Glinda replied matter-of-factly, giving the wall a wary look. "Come on, Elphie, I can do my makeup in my sleep! But I do appreciate your help."
Elphaba felt herself grown annoyed beyond reason but somehow kept herself as calm…tranquil…peaceful…as she could manage.
"Thank you, my dearest, darlingest roommate, for providing me with the experience of a lifetime."
Glinda was a little bemused but decided to change the subject. "So, I feel like I've known you my whole life."
"Yes, I feel like we're closer than we ever have been," her roommate responded dryly.
"Oh, so you do feel it! C'mere and give me a hug."
In an awkward fashion, Elphaba bent down and gave her friend a small hug. They held onto each other for a couple clock ticks until Glinda broke away.
"Elphie, what are you going to wear to this thing?" She questioned.
Elphaba smirked. "What I usually wear, of course."
"Elphaba Thropp, there is no way in Oz I am letting you out of this room before you change into a proper party outfit. Do you own anything that is not black? Do you even own anything other than your black frock?"
"No to the first, yes to the second," Elphaba replied.
"Anything appropriate for a dance?" Glinda asked exasperatedly.
"Nope."
"Well, take a look in my closet because like I said before, my closet is yours."
Elphaba obliged in mock-reluctance and opened the doors of the wardrobe. The new set of garments were as pink as the last, save for a few. She proceeded to sift through those few and stopped abruptly as her fingers touched a soft, silky fabric…
It was a light blue skirt that fell just below the knees, and was composed of a soft and silky material with a floral stitching along the hem.
It was the skirt. Or rather, not the skirt, but an equivalent. Well, almost an equivalent, because it was a deep purple.
Whatever the case, it was her skirt.
"Find anything?"
"Yes, actually," Elphaba replied in a daze. Memories of that wonderful night inundated her head.
"If I didn't know better, it would look like you didn't like your coffee!" She joked.
"Er, I do, but…it's a little bitterer (was that even a word?) than I usually have it…"
…"Maybe we should," he agreed softly. "But I can think of two other people that could be fixed up."
With that being said, he leaned across the small table and placed his mouth on hers.
"It being…"
Elphaba floated back to the present. "It's dark purple, silky, has a floral stitching along the hem-"
"Oh, that skirt. My mother picked it out for me."
"I don't care," Elphaba replied. "Fashionable or not, I'm wearing it."
"Whatever suits you best," Glinda said, shrugging. "But hey – you need a top! Something plain, yet fancy."
"Isn't that an oxymoron?"
"Don't call me a moron, Elphie, because I'm trying to help you. Let me think." But after a couple of clock ticks, nothing came to mind.
"Eh, just wear a black shirt, it'll be pretty. Wait, no; wear a black camisole and then a black sweater over it!"
Elphaba rolled her eyes and grabbed a simple black camisole and sweater, as directed. But once she was finished changing, Glinda spoke up again.
"Elphie, I have one more question."
"Yes?"
Can I do your makeup?"
"No."