Elphaba drove her fingers through the curlicues of shavings. There was nothing else in the box, nothing for her.

Well. I can't say I expected anything different. Her thoughts were cold, hard, frank, sharp, matter-of-fact. She was green. Nessa was the favorite. The sky was blue. Frex didn't like her. Never had. Never would. It made perfect sense that… that there was nothing else in the box, nothing for her. No shoes, no trinkets, not even a single piece of glass for her own. No love. The same love he sent to Nessa… with the shoes…

The wood shavings were hers, perhaps, but nothing else. Besides, what could she do with the curlicues anyway?

No. No use thinking like that. Perhaps they could be decorative in their own right, rustic, wild, free, a spot of nature to lighten up my dorm.

The green girl scoffed at herself. Since when was she into interior design? But already, her mind was wandering. She could keep the shavings together in a pile, put it on display that way, say it was like a little makeshift nest even though she didn't have a bird or bird-like decoration to fill it. Or perhaps she could scatter it around her room, anywhere and everywhere. She knew Glinda would be furious.

Elphie! What are you doing, making such an awful mess like this?! The thought alone was so entertaining that Elphaba almost wanted to go through it if only to get under her beloved roommate's pale skin. But then she remembered the real, first, original reason why she thought about scattering the wood shavings around at all. It wasn't Glinda. It was… Frex.

Father. What do I even call him? The male figure that raised me… Father to me, or Father only to his flock and religion? Was that why he preferred Nessa? Because she inherited his fervent devotion to the Unnamed God? Or had she adopted it in hopes of winning his love?

Well, good for you, Nessie. Lucky you. You played the game better than I ever could. How could she force herself to believe in something she didn't? How could she force herself to believe in something that never once gave her any reason to? She could not pretend, so she could not play, so she could not win. And yet still she tried.

Now I want to scatter the shavings to the wind, if only to prove a point… To whom? Him? Her? It didn't even matter anyway. That was just how it was. She was green. Nessa was the favorite. The sky was blue. Frex didn't like her. Never had. Never would. So what was the use in keeping the shavings, whether clumping them up to put on display or scattering them around to cover her room? Love couldn't be dispersed through gifts like that. And even if it could, she wasn't even the recipient of the gift. Not really. And she knew it. Even if she pretended otherwise.

Well, good for you, Nessie. Lucky you. You figured out the game. Somehow, Nessa was clever, slithered her way into Frex's heart and took up all of his space and time. Whatever love he was capable of went entirely to her. There was never anything left over for Elphaba. There was only so much love one person could give, and all of it went to Nessa. All that was left for Elphaba was curlicues of shavings. That's how it always was.

Nessa drank her fill, then once she was satiated, departed. Frex was left empty, and so departed as well. Elphaba was left alone, still waiting in life, bowl empty, but there was no one there to fill it up again. Then, even when Frex was replenished, the cycle started all over again. Nessa always managed to find a way to him first. The only "always" Elphaba knew was "never".

It wasn't Nessa's fault, though. She was wheelchair bound, of course she needed more care than Elphaba. It wouldn't be fair of Elphaba to demand more and risk taking away what her precious, helpless little sister needed. Second born, first served. And Elphaba, ever the dutiful older sister, knew what she was supposed to… Lower your bowl. Put it away. You're still breathing, aren't you? So what more could you possibly need? Don't be selfish and greedy. Nessa needs more attention. And Frex needs time to build up that attention.

Was that why Elphaba doted on Nessa too? Was it just because it was something she picked up from her father? Or was it because it was instructed and expected of her for her entire life? Or perhaps it was her own way of trying to win Frex's approval… If she took good enough care of Nessa, maybe he would finally take care of her? Or perhaps she wanted to show him that she could do it even better than him. Maybe she hoped that by taking good enough care of Nessa, Nessa would love her instead. So many possibilities… As many as there were curlicues of shavings.

Did she even love Nessa? That was to say, whose choice was it? Or was it a choice that had chosen her? Had the love developed naturally, or was it just something that happened when two people happened to be born into the same family? Would she and Nessa have been even a fraction as close if not for something as small and chance as that? It didn't matter. Whether it was learned or instinctual, something Frex subconsciously drilled into her head or something she picked up on her own as a last-ditch effort to win somebody's love, it didn't matter. First born, second served.

Lower your bowl. Put it away. You're the older sister, you're supposed to be more independent and less needy. The fondness was meant for the softhearted little one, who needs far more protection. You're the trailblazer that runs so that she can walk, or rather, wheel. It's not her fault she's like this, so how can you blame her, or be so demanding as to take away the support she so desperately needs? You were always such a free spirit who never liked love, so what do you need it for anyway?

There was never enough of Frex's love left over for her, she reasoned, because Nessa needed it more, and there was only so much love that one person could give, no matter who it was and no matter to whom it was given. But…

There's only so much love that one person can take, or rather, lack of love, that one can take… There was a sore hole in Elphaba's heart. She drove her fingers deep inside of it, but there was nothing there to give her any insight as to what was lacking and what could fill it.

Hmm, she mused, Maybe the curlicues of shavings would do… I'll stuff myself like a scarecrow until that place where my heart should be is full. But she couldn't imagine that the shavings would be very comfortable. After all, there was no love in them. She would only get splinters.

She closed the lid on the box that once contained the glittering, diamond-esque shoes. They were now on Nessa's lovely little feet. Elphaba pulled her emerald hands from the curlicues of shavings. She supposed she could always decide what to do with them later. For now, they would sit on the highest shelf in her dorm. Out of sight, out of mind; inoffensive, but never out of reach.

As the older sister, I need less. So I can suffice. Curlicues of wood shavings will be enough. They have to be. I can't say I expected anything different. Her thoughts were cold, hard, frank, sharp, matter-of-fact. She was green. Nessa was the favorite. The sky was blue. Frex didn't like her. Never had. Never would. It made perfect sense. There was nothing else in the box, nothing for her. But she would make the wood shavings her own, whatever that meant, and whatever it would provide, or rather, whatever she hoped it would provide.

Curlicues of shavings will be enough. They had to be.