It was eight-thirty. The sky had darkened noticeably. Maureen and Elphaba were already gabbing like best of friends, and Nessa had fallen asleep in her wheelchair. Roger had sized up Shell, decided that he was no competition for Mimi's affections, and had spent the rest of the night on the balcony with a cigarette in his hand, staring at the horizon. After awhile, Elphaba slipped up next to him. "Look, don't worry about it," she said softly.

Roger turned. "What are you talking about?"
"You're afraid you will say the wrong thing, and I'll get offended. It's not easy to know how to talk to a green girl. But don't worry. It takes a lot to offend me."

Roger shrugged. "Actually, I'm afraid I'll stare. And say the wrong thing. I mean, I don't really care that you're green. Of course, I did see Wizard of Oz."

Elphaba chuckled. "What's that?"

"A movie. The Wicked Witch of the West. Really, it was quite stupid, I didn't believe a word they said against the Witch, but it was date night, and it was Mimi's turn to pick the movie, and that's what she wanted to see."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"The Witch was green."

"Oh. So you know about Oz?"
"Not really. As far as I know, it doesn't exist."
"But it does. I'm from Oz. And the Wizard, he's real-an evil tyrant. I've been fighting to stop him. That's why they call me wicked. And my lover? The Wizard had him killed."

"Whoa, slow down." Roger smiled. "How hard did you hit your head when Collins ran into you? Maybe you should lie down."

"You don't believe me?"
"Elphaba, listen to me. I live in New York. I've seen some pretty weird shit. Hell, I've lived through some pretty weird shit. But this? You're asking me to believe in a fantasy land."
"How else would I be green?"
"Skin condition, I don't know. Look, I told you, I've seen some really weird shit. For God's sakes, Mark and I found a fucking body last year! But this…"

"Forget it. Why am I talking to you?" Elphaba turned to go.

Roger caught her arm. "Elphaba, listen to me! I believe you. Against all my better judgment, I believe you. Look, I think what we both need is a good, long night's sleep. Unfortunately, I can't get that. I've got a gig at ten-thirty. Rocky Horror Convention. You get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He took a last, long drag on the cigarette before crushing it out on the railing. "I've got to go." Glancing at Mimi, who was sleeping on the couch, he added, "If Mimi asks, I'm at Radio City Music Hall. I should be home around 4 am."

Elphaba nodded. "Right. Have fun."

Roger was already grabbing his guitar. "Get some sleep. I will be being mobbed by thousands of Rocky Horrorettes who are horny for Tim Curry in a dress. Fun." He took off out the door.

Angel jerked up at the sound of the door slamming. "Roger take off?"

Elphaba nodded. "Yeah. Something about curry and a dress and halls."

"Ah. The Horror convention in town. He's been looking forward to that for months, but he'll never admit it. He's a closet Horrorette. You two should sit and talk. You'd love him, if you got to know him."

Elphaba nodded. "Right. I'm going to bed."

"Night."

"Good night."