“Do you even like it?”
The moonlight spilled pale and cold through the tall windows as Galinda eased open the door to her dorm, careful not to let it creak. The corridors of Shiz University were hushed, the sounds of laughter and music from the evening's gala nothing more than a distant echo now.
Her heels clicked lightly on the polished floor as she crossed the room, the weight of her silk gown heavy after a night spent smiling and being admired. She set her purse down with precision on her vanity, unfastening the diamond necklace Fiyero had gifted her at the event. It sparkled beautifully in the dim light, a delicate thing. Perfect. Just like the version of herself she had spent the evening performing.
Elphaba stirred in her bed, the rustle of pages audible as she shifted beneath the lamplight. Of course she was still awake. A half-finished book lay open on her lap, the margins scribbled with inky notes, her face half-shadowed by the light. She hadn't even glanced up.
“Long night?” Elphaba asked, voice dry but not unkind.
Galinda paused, her hands stilling on the clasp of her bracelet. “The gala was... lovely.”
Elphaba let out a quiet snort. “I’m sure it was,” she replied, turning a page with deliberate slowness.
Galinda felt the words forming on her tongue before she even knew what she meant to say. "You think it’s shallow, don’t you?”
Elphaba finally looked up, brow arched. “Do you?”
Galinda blinked, lips parting as if to protest. Of course she didn’t. The gala had been beautiful- flowers arranged perfectly, music spilling from the balcony, and Fiyero on her arm, all effortless charm. She’d worn her finest gown, and when she caught her reflection in the mirrored ballroom, she had looked precisely as she should- the picture of perfection.
And yet…
She sat down carefully on the edge of her bed, the satin skirt whispering around her legs as she did. “He gave me this tonight.” She lifted the necklace slightly, letting the diamonds catch the light.
Elphaba stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s nice, I suppose. Though it doesn’t seem particularly… you.”
Galinda stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know.” Elphaba closed her book, setting it aside. “It just seems like something he chose because it was expensive, not because it reminded him of you. Do you even like it?”
Galinda opened her mouth to answer but hesitated. Of course she liked it. It was beautiful, wasn’t it? Everyone at the gala had noticed how it glittered against her gown. They had looked at her. Fiyero had looked at her.
And yet… hadn't it felt more like he was admiring a painting than seeing her?
Galinda placed the necklace on the vanity with more care than necessary. “He’s very thoughtful,” she said quietly, but even as the words left her lips, they rang hollow.
Elphaba tilted her head. “Is he? Or does he just know how to look thoughtful when people are watching?”
A silence stretched between them, weightier than Galinda wanted to admit. She had spent so long convincing herself that her relationship with Fiyero was everything she had dreamed it would be. He was handsome, charming, princely. He made her laugh. He said all the right things.
But what had he ever asked her about herself? Had he noticed the way she loved to memorize poetry but felt too silly to share it? Or the fact that sometimes she hated the sound of her own voice when it felt too sweet, too practiced?
Had he ever really known her?
Or had she been content with being admired, not understood?
“Elphie,” she whispered suddenly, voice tight, “Do you ever… pretend to feel something you don’t?”
Elphaba’s face shifted, startled by the rare vulnerability in her voice.
“Why?”
Galinda dropped her gaze, smoothing the fabric of her gown as though she could press her thoughts back into place. “I just… I’m not sure if I ever liked him. Not really.”
The confession felt heavier than she had expected, like a stone settling into her chest. The words echoed in the quiet space between them.
Elphaba didn’t answer right away. She was watching Galinda closely now, studying her in a way that made Galinda feel both exposed and strangely seen. Finally, she spoke.
“Well… what do you like about him?”
Galinda opened her mouth, grasping for the reasons she had recited so many times before. He’s handsome. He’s a prince. He makes me feel special. But none of it felt true anymore, not in this quiet room with no music, no ballroom, no mirrors.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
For a long moment, Elphaba said nothing. Then she offered the smallest of nods. “Maybe that’s your answer.”
Galinda felt her throat tighten, but she nodded too, fingers curling around the edge of her vanity as though bracing herself against a truth she wasn’t ready to fully face.
And in the quiet, for the first time in a long while, she began to wonder who she might be without the glittering masks she had worn for so long.