Just a note: In my previous little pre-story drabble I had '100% Gelphie' as part of it, and that was a misteak. What I meant to say was 100% Fiyeraba. My appologies.

Also remember that this is a rated M fic.

Review! :]

Chapter Two.

Was this some kind of a sick joke? 'How much did you get offered to do this? I mean, how much am I really worth?' Elphaba's anger began to rise to unhealthy levels. 'Who the hell do you think you ARE?' She sifted through her mind of all the cruel, painful things she could do to him and stuck on one that seemed quick but efficient. Elphaba spoke nothing else but raised an arm and struck him swiftly across the face. It would have been funny if his face had turned green rather than the deep shade of maroon, then maybe he could get a taste of how she felt on a daily basis. She pivoted on one foot and resumed her walk towards the dorms.

Fiyero stood there dumbstruck. He had just been rejected in the worst way possible; she had thought he was joking. Elphaba had even thought he had been bribed. None of his friends knew of his love for the green girl, but it was there and in full swing. Fiyero quickly forgot the pain in his face and strode out of the main building, and onto the main lawn of Shiz. Thankfully Galinda and her swarm of followers weren't at their normal post by the large fountain, so he sat down on the edge that faced away from the school. It was mid autumn so the sun began to set much earlier than it did a few months ago. The sun was nearly touching the horizon, turning the sky a red-orange colour. It was breathtaking to look at. The sky was speckled with white fluffy clouds, not dense enough to rain. The autumn breeze cooled the burning slap wound on Fiyero's face, but he still didn't really take note on how bad it actually hurt. Fiyero was too preoccupied with the pain of rejection. It wouldn't be half as bad if Elphaba just simply would have said no to his question, but she genuinely did not believe he was asking her to be his girlfriend. Would she ever talk to him again, or ever smile that beautiful smile he loved so much? Would the ring to her voice disappear and replace itself with reluctance and pain?

Two ivory fingers brushed the top of the water, and he sighed quietly. He had done enough damage to Elphaba. Before he realised his love for her, he used to be one of the main ones that made fun of her. Galinda, ShenShen, Fiyero, sometimes even Boq all did it on a normal basis. But things then started to change; he saw how she really wasn't phased by it anymore. When he saw how she reacted to his inquiry, he was brought back to the days of when his own father had mentally and physically abused him. His father had said, 'You aren't even worthy of being the Winkie Prince, if it were up to me you would have been sent to the adoption center right away. Your mother is the only one that really wants you. You are vile, stupid, and not good for anything around here.' That is how he remembered his father. He hated him with a fiery passion; never would he understand the pain he was put through. Fiyero really didn't want to be the cause of Elphaba's pain. In a way his father was right. He was stupid for asking Elphaba out in the first place. He was vile for always making fun of her. Nothing he did came out right, and maybe his mother was the only one that wanted him.

The Prince rose from where he sat and started walking across the green lawn towards the lake was surrounded completely by forest on three sides. It was a place he went to get away from the rest of the world. No one else really cared to take the time to actually sit by the lake and just slow down, so he had the place all to himself. Fiyero descended the hill that led straight into the lake waters, but stopped halfway and sat down. His thoughts, anticipation, love, hatred, doubt, were all too much for him to handle. Fiyero's acting was by far the best in Oz, he acted completely fine to everyone, but inside he was a complete wreck. Inside his front pant pocket was a pocket knife he kept for various uses, without thinking he withdrew it. It was of the most expensive kind of pocketknife ever made, only the best for a Prince after all. The main blade was so sharp it could easily slide through diamonds. The blade opened easily by the push of a finger.. It was kept in the best condition, because it was one of his prized possessions. The pocketknife was his mother's; on the backside of the handle was an engraving: Helena Tiggular. Helena left the pocketknife to him in her will among other items. Fiyero gazed into the blade; it was shiny enough he could see his reflection in it. He watched as his own eyes began to fill with tears, damnable tears. Fiyero didn't care at this point if he cried or not, no one was here, and it was his business not the general public's.

The tailored shirt he was wearing was custom made at a top-of-the-line boutique downtown in the Emerald City. Only the best of the best shopped there, no one else could afford it. He slid the left sleeve up past his elbow and rested his elbow on his knee. Without thinking about it any longer he firmly grasped the blade and slid it across his wrist leaving a rather deep cut behind. But that wasn't enough for him. He kept slicing at his wrist until there was no creamy ivory skin on his wrist visible; only blood covered red skin. Tears silently fell down his cheeks and often into his cuts, causing him more pain. This only real way for Fiyero to get rid of his mental pain was to cause himself physical pain. It didn't even hurt him that much, as long as he didn't think about it too hard. Once more he resumed slicing and finally dropped the knife onto the grass, tainting it with red blood.

Fiyero let out a gasp when he noticed it didn't stop bleeding after many minutes. With his right hand he clenched his left wrist trying to stop the bleeding, but it was flowing too quickly. He added as much pressure as he could but then found himself not breathing because he was focused so hard. In an attempt to keep breathing he let go of his wrist but then soon after fell onto his back and couldn't move. Moments later the world began to fade before his very eyes, and he blacked out.