Chapter 4
Galinda sat at her vanity, brushing through the loose waves of her golden hair with slow, deliberate strokes. Her reflection was calm, poised, perfect, but inside, her nerves were fraying. Elphaba Thropp was on her way, and Galinda could not shake the memory of their awkward first encounter outside the Ozdust.
She had been trying to forget that night for weeks. The clumsy crash. The rambling apologies. Her outright disaster of a conversation. Galinda prided herself on grace and composure, but all of that had dissolved the moment she had looked into Elphaba’s sharp green eyes.
She sighed, willing herself to focus. This was her chance to redeem herself, to prove that Galinda Upland was as polished and perfect as everyone believed. She had surprised even herself with how quickly she had managed to both assemble a committee for a made up event and gain permission to hold said event. She straightened her back and smoothed down the front of her pink dress, as though the fabric itself could bolster her confidence.
She had received Elphaba’s reply days ago and had read it enough times to memorize every drippingly sarcastic line. It was rude, it was dismissive, and…it thrilled her.
Not many people dared to speak to Galinda Upland in such a tone, and yet Elphaba had done so with a sharp wit that danced on the fine edge of offense and intrigue. Galinda had laughed aloud while reading and found herself increasingly curious about the person behind the scathing humour.
Her hands stilled on the brush as her heart gave an involuntary flutter. She sighed, setting the brush down with a decisive clink.
“Get a grip, Galinda,” she muttered, glaring at her reflection. “You are Galinda Upland. You are graceful, poised, and absolutely in control.”
She pointed at herself in the mirror, as if her reflection needed convincing. “Elphaba Thropp is just another person. She doesn’t intimidate you. She doesn’t make you nervous. And she most certainly does not make your heart race for no reason at all.”
Galinda paused, frowning as she adjusted one of her curls. “Even if she is unexpectedly… interesting. And clever. And—ugh!” She shook her head, willing herself to focus.
“This is your meeting,” she said firmly, smoothing the front of her dress. “You’re going to be confident and in control. No blushing, no stumbling over words, and definitely no getting distracted by those ridiculous green eyes.”
She took a deep breath and forced a dazzling smile onto her face. “You’ve done all the planning. You’ve memorized every detail. You are prepared for this, Galinda Upland.
A knock at the door made her jump, and her carefully rehearsed confidence wavered for a split second. She sprang to her feet, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug. Catching herself, she smoothed her dress again, trying to compose her features into the perfect balance of charm and indifference.
“You’ve got this,” she whispered as she reached for the doorknob.
When she opened it, Galinda found herself face-to-face with Elphaba Thropp, who looked even more out of place at Shiz than Galinda had imagined.
“Miss Upland,” Elphaba said dryly, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. “And so we meet.”
Galinda faltered, just for a moment. “Yes, indeed we do,” she replied, recovering quickly. “Though it’s Galinda, please. We’re hardly strangers anymore.”
Elphaba arched an eyebrow. “A letter or two and a formal meeting doesn’t quite make us friends.”
The words were blunt, but there was no malice in Elphaba’s tone. In fact, her smirk deepened as she added, “Not that I’m opposed to the idea. You are… persistent.”
Galinda blinked, caught off guard. She gestured toward the seating area by the window. “Won’t you sit? We have so much to discuss about the Winter Ball.”
Elphaba nodded and moved toward the chair Galinda indicated, but as she did, her dark eyes flicked over the blonde’s face with a subtle intensity. Galinda busied herself arranging the tea service on the small table between them, acutely aware of Elphaba’s quiet scrutiny.
“It’s strange,” Elphaba said suddenly, leaning back in her chair. “You seem… familiar.”
Galinda froze for half a second, then plastered on a dazzling smile. “Do I? Well, I suppose I have one of those faces.”
Elphaba tilted her head, unconvinced. “I’ve seen you before. Not just at the Ozdust when my band played, but…” Her brows furrowed as she searched her memory. Realisation filled her features. “You were the girl outside. The one I bumped into.”
Galinda’s hands stilled on the teapot. She had hoped Elphaba wouldn’t remember, but of course she had. Galinda could feel her cheeks warming. “Oh, that? It was nothing, really,” she said quickly, pouring the tea. “A simple mistake. Nearly forgotten, in fact.”
“Forgotten?” Elphaba’s smirk widened. “You practically sprinted away before I could ask your name. Not exactly forgettable.”
Galinda’s face burned, and she focused intently on placing the teacup in front of Elphaba. “Well, I’ve been terribly busy since then. Organizing the Winter Ball is no small feat, you know.”
Elphaba chuckled, a soft, low sound that sent an unfamiliar shiver down Galinda’s spine. “So busy that you didn’t have time to answer a simple question?”
Galinda straightened, clutching the handle of her teacup as though it might steady her. “If you must know, I was… distracted. And besides…you know my name now.”
“Distracted,” Elphaba echoed, her tone teasing. She leaned forward slightly, her dark eyes fixed on Galinda’s face. “By what?”
Galinda opened her mouth to respond but found that words failed her. She didn’t want to admit that her distraction had been Elphaba herself—the way her presence had sent Galinda’s carefully crafted poise crumbling.
Instead, she forced a laugh and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, who can remember? The important thing is that we’re here now, aren’t we? And we have so much to discuss.”
Elphaba watched her for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. Then she leaned back in her chair, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “If you insist.”
“You know,” Galinda said suddenly, pausing to take a small drink of tea, “I meant to say…I enjoyed reading your letter.”
Elphaba’s brow lifted. “Enjoyed it?”
“Yes,” Galinda replied, sitting back and clasping her hands in her lap to keep them steady. “Your humor is… different. Very sharp. I found it refreshing, actually.”
“Refreshing,” Elphaba repeated, her tone dry. “That’s certainly one way to put it.”
Galinda tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, come now. Don’t act so modest. I laughed out loud more than once while reading it.” She hesitated, then added softly, “I don’t think many people could make me do that.”
For the first time, Elphaba seemed caught off guard. She leaned back in her chair, studying Galinda as if trying to determine whether she was being sincere. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d appreciate my humor. Most people don’t.”
“Well, I’m not most people,” Galinda replied lightly, though her voice held a subtle note of challenge.
Elphaba chuckled, shaking her head. “I think I’m beginning to see that.”
Encouraged, Galinda leaned forward slightly, her confidence returning. “Speaking of surprises… I was wondering. Will your band be playing any new songs at the Winter Ball?”
Elphaba shrugged. “We might. Why do you ask?”
Galinda hesitated for only a moment before flashing her most dazzling smile. “Because I still think you should dedicate one to me.”
Elphaba’s lips twitched into a smirk, but there was a flicker of something warmer in her gaze. “You want me to dedicate a song to you… as a thank-you?”
“Exactly,” Galinda said with a nod, though her breath caught at the intensity of Elphaba’s eyes on hers. “Think of it as a… gesture of appreciation.”
Elphaba leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make Galinda’s pulse quicken. “And what kind of song would you like, Miss Upland? Something sweet and sentimental? Or sharp and sarcastic, like my letters?”
Galinda’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away. “Surprise me,” she said, her voice softer now.
For a moment, Elphaba said nothing, her gaze holding Galinda’s with an unreadable expression. Then she leaned back in her chair, her smirk widening. “All right, Galinda. Consider it done.”
Galinda’s heart skipped, and she quickly busied herself with her notebook to hide the giddy smile threatening to overtake her face. “Wonderful. Now, about your band’s set for the evening…”
“Wait.”
Galinda stopped, blinking up at Elphaba.
“You seemed rather…preoccupied when we met,” Elphaba said, her voice softer now. “I hope whatever or whoever had you forgetting your name is but a thing of the past.”
The question hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Galinda felt as though she were back in that moment, the cool night air brushing her skin, her heart racing for reasons she couldn’t explain.
“It was an exceedingly peculiar evening”, Galinda offered with a shrug, as a small explanation. “I’m sorry that I was not my usual self. I hope my behaviour then is not how you now see me.” Quick to move the conversation on, she clapped her hands together.
“So, shall we begin?”
As Galinda launched into her carefully prepared agenda, she couldn’t help but feel that Elphaba’s quiet intensity had shifted something between them. This meeting wasn’t just about the Winter Ball anymore, it was the start of something she couldn’t yet define.
Elphaba listened, her dark eyes fixed on Galinda with an unreadable expression. Though her posture was relaxed, there was an undeniable energy simmering beneath her calm exterior. She had come to this meeting prepared to tolerate Galinda’s usual performative charm, but there was something disarming about her tonight. Perhaps it was the faint blush still lingering on Galinda’s cheeks, or the way her voice seemed just a touch higher when she addressed Elphaba directly.
As Galinda outlined her vision for the Winter Ball, her enthusiasm was infectious. She leaned forward, hands gesturing animatedly as she described the glittering decorations, the elegant ballroom layout, and, most importantly, the music.
“I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a contract for your band,” Galinda said, reaching into her leather portfolio. She pulled out a neatly typed document and slid it across the table. “I hope you’ll find the terms agreeable.”
Elphaba picked up the contract, her fingers brushing lightly against Galinda’s as she did. It was a fleeting touch, but it was enough to send a spark through both of them. Galinda’s words faltered mid-sentence, her hand lingering on the paper for a moment too long before she pulled back.
Elphaba’s gaze darted up to meet hers, and in the silence that followed, the air seemed to thrum with a strange, electric tension.
Galinda’s heart pounded in her chest as she met Elphaba’s stare. Those sharp green eyes, which had unnerved her so thoroughly before, now seemed to hold her in place.
“I see you’ve spared no expense,” Elphaba said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was even, but there was a softness to it now that Galinda hadn’t heard before. “Your generosity is… unexpected.”
Galinda blinked, trying to refocus. “Well, the Winter Ball will be the talk of all of Shiz,” she said, her tone returning to its usual brightness. “It deserves the best, don’t you think?”
Elphaba set the contract down and leaned back in her chair, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “And you think we’re the best?”
“Of course,” Galinda replied quickly, though the weight of Elphaba’s gaze made her fidget. She clasped her hands in her lap to keep from betraying her nerves. “Your band has a unique energy. It’s… fresh, unpredictable. Exactly what the Winter Ball needs.”
Elphaba chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Fresh and unpredictable? That’s certainly one way to describe us.”
Galinda felt her cheeks flush again and hastily changed the subject. “You’ll notice the payment terms are quite generous,” she said, gesturing toward the contract. “And, of course, your band will be featured prominently in all the event’s promotional materials.”
Elphaba skimmed the document, her brow furrowing slightly as she read. “This is more than we usually make in a month,” she said, glancing up. “Are you sure you’re not overestimating our worth?”
Galinda straightened, her voice firm. “I know exactly what you’re worth. And you’ll be worth even more once the entire student body sees you perform.”
For the first time, Elphaba seemed at a loss for words. She studied Galinda for a long moment, as though searching for some hidden motive.
“Well,” she said finally, picking up the pen Galinda had set beside the contract. “I won’t argue with someone who insists on valuing us so highly.”
As she leaned forward to sign, Galinda watched her carefully. There was a strength in Elphaba’s movements, a confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. When Elphaba passed the signed contract back, their hands brushed again—this time lingering just a fraction longer.
The spark from earlier returned, stronger now, and both women froze. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world outside the room seemed to fade away.
Neither spoke, the silence charged with something neither could name but both could feel. Galinda’s eyes dropped to trace Elphaba’s lips. She swallowed as the tension consumed the room.
Finally, Elphaba broke the spell, pulling her hand back and clearing her throat. “Well, that’s done,” she said briskly, though her voice wavered just slightly.
“Yes,” Galinda said, her voice unnaturally high. “All settled.”
They sat in silence for a moment, neither quite sure what to say.
Finally, Elphaba stood, slipping the contract into her satchel. “Thank you, Galinda,” she said, her tone softer now. “For the opportunity. And for… everything else.”
Galinda rose as well, clasping her hands in front of her to keep them steady. “You’re quite welcome,” she said, her voice as poised as she could manage. “I look forward to seeing you perform.”
Elphaba nodded, her dark eyes lingering on Galinda. “Is that all you brought me here for, then? Contracts and flattery?”
Galinda blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Well, it was the main reason…” she started, then faltered under Elphaba’s penetrating gaze.
Elphaba arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s disappointing. I thought Galinda Upland would have a bit more flair.”
Galinda’s spine straightened at the challenge in Elphaba’s tone. “Oh, I assure you, Miss Thropp, I have flair to spare.”
“Prove it,” Elphaba replied, her voice almost daring.
Galinda paused for only a moment before flashing a confident smile. “All right, then. You’ve seen the contract, now let me show you Shiz as you’ve never seen it before.”
Elphaba raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but still skeptical. “I’m not sure I understand. Is this a tour I’m required to take? Was it part of the deal?”
Galinda’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, yes, actually. Didn’t you read the letter I sent you?” she said, pulling a copy of the letter from her desk drawer and waving it in the air.
Elphaba’s lips twitched. “I skimmed it. I didn’t think the tour was mandatory.”
“It’s more of a welcoming tradition,” Galinda said, her voice light and teasing. “And I thought you might enjoy it…after all, seeing Shiz through my eyes might be the most enlightening part of your visit.”
Elphaba sighed but a smile tugged at her lips. “This should be interesting.”
Galinda spoke as they made their way to the door, forcing her voice to sound casual, “What do you think of Shiz so far?”
Elphaba, who had been quiet for a while, looked at her with a hint of amusement. “It’s… not what I expected,” she said softly. “I didn’t think it’d be so charming.”
Galinda smiled, her earlier nervousness giving way to a sense of pride. “That’s the idea,” she replied, her tone a little more steady now. “Shiz is full of surprises.”
Elphaba smirked. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”
Galinda grinned back, the tension between them easing just a bit. This was more than just a contract, more than just a performance at the Winter Ball. Something had shifted tonight, and Galinda knew, deep down, that her world would never be the same.