"Okay. Who is she?"
Glinda looked up from her laptop, only to find two female faces staring right at her from an uncomfortably short distance.
"Yolona is willing to bet fifty bucks that she's your girlfriend," Dayae informed her while failing to suppress her wide grin.
"My girlfriend?" Glinda repeated, her expression pure confusion. "Who the heck are you talking about?"
"The chick with the big, black car," the taller of the two reminded her impatiently, rolling her eyes. "The one who picks you up all the time."
"And sometimes even drops you off super early in the morning," added the other with a wiggle of her eyebrows."
"Who else do you think we could mean? Don't play stupid, it won't save you."
Her own brows raised, Glinda let her eyes dart from one woman to the other.
"Save me?"
"From her prying questions, she means," giggled Dayae.
The blonde continued to consider them in turns, then shook her head and trained her gaze on the screen of her laptop.
"Okay," said, then cleared her voice. She began to type again, ignoring their presence as best she could while still speaking to them. "I suppose I do know who you're talking about." Truth be told, she was amazed by the fact that both women had omitted to mention her supposed lover's odd skin colour. "Elphaba is my friend, and we're sort of working together. You could call it charity work, I guess. Hence, we spend a lot of time in each other's company. She picks me up, purely for efficiency's sake. Occasionally, after a long night of working,"—she made sure to stress the word—"I stay the night and she drops me off at the office so I don't have to get up even earlier to catch the public transport. There. Happy?"
Dayae seemed more or less indifferent, but Yolona was anything but satisfied.
"So, where does all your dating advice research come in?" she demanded, putting on a cheeky pout. "Don't forget that I caught you right in the act!"
"Boredom. Procrastination."
Glinda didn't even miss a beat.
The Munchkin at least nodded sympathetically; her partner crossed her arms and huffed. She opened her mouth to say something when Glinda's desk phone rang.
"Goodness, who still uses these?" Glinda murmured under her breath, setting out to locate it beneath the layers of papers spread out on her desk.
"Found it!" Dayae announced triumphantly and handed the handset over to her.
Glinda smiled her thanks.
"EC Financial Group, Glinda Upland speaking. How can I help you?"
"Hey, Glinda."
That voice. For the briefest of moments, her heart stopped, and her lungs threatened to fail her.
"Mr. Chuffrey," she managed to reply, her tone even and courteous, if a little stiff.
"Yes. The very same," chuckled the man on the other end of the line. "I'm thrilled you even recognise my voice."
She turned her head away from the phone for just a fraction of a second to give air to an agitated groan. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed her colleagues, looking tense and listening intently. In this particular instance, she didn't mind. Perhaps it even made her feel a little better to know she was not entirely on her own. She glanced back at them and smiled weakly before continuing her conversation.
"I do hope you are calling for business purposes, Mr. Chuffrey," she said pointedly.
"Why else?" he laughed in reply. "I hoped to make an appointment."
"An appointment? Fine. I only wonder why you wouldn't use the appointment function on our website."
"Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice?"
The hairs on her arms pricked up at that. She swallowed and exhaled deeply as she pulled up her calendar app.
"I can fit you in in about three weeks," she told him, brain switched to auto pilot. There were, in fact, a few earlier openings, but she hoped to postpone the unpleasant meeting as far as possible.
"Are you sure you won't be able to squeeze me in before that?"
"No," she responded decidedly, forgoing any apologies she might have offered other clients. "I've been busy with some projects. At the moment, I absolutely can't see anyone outside my usual hours."
"Very well," Chuffrey yielded after a clock-tick of uneasy silence. "When exactly would that be then?"
"Friday, July twenty-fourth, two thirty."
She knew she was pushing it, but it was almost as though every minute counted as she tried to defer meeting him.
"Alright then," he agreed. "The twenty-fourth it is. Let me know if you have any cancellations though."
"Of course. Have a good day."
"And you."
She hung up as quickly as she could without being outright rude.
Closing her eyes, she gathered her thoughts. When she opened them again, she saw Yolona and Dayae making their way around the desks to her side.
"Are you okay? What's up with that dude? Is he harassing you?"
Dayae took the phone out of her hands.
"Just tell him that you're batting for the other team," Yolona suggested, but the Munchkin next to her shot her a sharp look. "What? It doesn't matter whether it's the truth or not," she tried to defend her plan, but her partner only shook her head.
"You never know what this guy will do with this sort of information. Before you realise it, the entire office might be buzzing with the news. True or not, you wouldn't want that."
"It's a bit more complicated than that anyway," Glinda interjected reluctantly. "As it happens, there are more than just professional ties between us."
Yolona blanched.
"You didn't sleep with him, did you?"
Dayae quickly shushed her, placing an index finger against her lips.
"Of course not," Glinda answered, slightly breathless and painfully aware of the heat in her cheeks. "But we do know each other outside of work. Our parents... well, they are old acquaintances and are very much encouraging us to establish a relationship."
"Ew."
Both of her colleagues wrinkled their noses in response.
"This is highly inappropriate," the taller one of them pointed out. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier? Or Nikidik for that matter. He should never have approved the transfer."
"I didn't know yet at the time. It's just a terrible coincidence, I suppose. By now I don't think that I can switch back. Nikidik wouldn't like it, nor my mum, or Chuffrey. I'm sorta stuck."
Dayae and Yolona exchanged a few looks, then turned back to her, smiling compassionately.
"That's messed up," Dayae sighed. "If it was me, I'd try and talk to Nikidik anyway, but that's up to you. As far as your family is concerned, I can't give any advice at all."
"Just be careful, 'kay?" the other woman offered. "Let us know if there's anything we can do for you."
"Thank you."
"Right." Yolona awkwardly clapped her hands.
"Back to work it is," said Dayae, nodding just as awkwardly.
Glinda willed herself not to dwell on the upset Chuffrey's call had caused and quickly turned away, burying herself in her work.
"You're late!"
Glinda had barely unlocked the door, when she was accosted by Crope. Using his big duffle bag, he prodded her until she had no choice but to back away from the door, into the hallway.
"Hey! Can't I at least grab a snack?" she protested, as he pushed past her and hurried down the stairs.
"No time!" he called, craning his head around for just a second.
"I'm hungry!"
"Then be earlier next time!"
She released a frustrated puff of air, adjusted the strap of her bag and made to chase after him. The reason for her tardiness was work-related, as per usual. Yet, at least this time, it was entirely her fault for temporarily forgetting all about her appointment with her friend and going overboard with completing tasks that were not at all urgent.
They were on their way to a rehearsal for Crope's community theatre troupe. The cast still had quite some way to go till their first dress rehearsal, but the previous week their director had asked them to start bringing along a friend for every Thursday session, so everyone could get used to performing in front of strangers. Crope was one of the veterans of the group, but a number of new faces had only recently joined, and they desperately needed help getting used to the limelight.
They were five minutes late. This annoyed Crope, who was never late, but Glinda was relieved to learn that the better half of the other actors were also still MIA.
Dale, the director, greeted them and shook Glinda's hand, thanking her for taking the time to come.
"Listen Crope, we have a small problem. Rheesie called in sick just now, and we have no Hawley understudy."
"Well, I hope she gets better soon," Crope replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "For today, my lovely flatmate here can step in for her, if you don't mind?" He gave her a small nudge and grinned. "She knows every word by heart. Isn't that right, babe?"
Glinda cast him a nervous side glance.
"I do know the lines, but I'm not much of an actor," she murmured self-consciously.
"Don't worry about that," Dale reassured her with a warm smile. "Only one or two of our cast already know what they are doing; most of them are still finding themselves and their characters. You'll blend in just fine."
And that was that. While Glinda felt not at all sure about Crope's idea, she couldn't find it in her heart to object. At least, she had absolute confidence in her line recall. For an outsider, this should be impressive enough. Or so she tried to convince her overthinking mind.
It all started harmlessly enough: the actors introduced themselves and their plus-ones. This was followed by a few warm-up exercises. Crope waved at Glinda to join in, seeing as she was somewhat of a temporary member of the ensemble. But she shook her head a little, preferring to remain in the half shadows of the second row.
A good portion of the play passed uneventfully. She thought that some of the actors seemed far better than their director had given them credit for, but then again, he probably had only the highest hopes and expectations for his production. Crope did a pretty good job, as did the guy who played his closest friend—until his character dramatically died in a guerrilla attack. The majority of the troupe did well enough, even though two or three of the minor characters were struggling badly. Glinda tried to keep that in mind while preparing herself for her own imminent performance.
"Wonderful. Thanks everybody," Dale announced in a loud voice, clapping his hands slowly. "We'll take a break here. Grab some water, have a bite, and we'll be back with scene twelve in five minutes."
"Are you ready?" Crope asked her before taking a generous swig from his bottle. He offered some to her."
"Unless you filled your bottle with booze, I doubt a drink of water will make me feel any better," replied Glinda morosely. Now that the time had come, her comforting observations and positive thinking appeared to have disserted her last minute.
"You need to keep hydrated. Projecting your voice like this is exhausting for the vocal cords and the lights make you sweat like a pig."
"How lovely," she sighed, but finally accepted the bottle on offer. She took a good gulp, expecting water, then coughed when she found she'd been misled. "Gross! What is this? Sugar syrup?"
"Energy drink. Packed with caffeine, guarana and everything else that keeps a tired actor on his toes."
Scoffing, she wiped her mouth.
"Doesn't taste like any energy drink I've ever tried."
The performers were ordered back to the stage. Once everyone was assembled, Dale asked Glinda to come and stand next to him.
"Rheesie is ill, so Crope's friend Glinda here will stand in for her and take over the role of Hawley."
The actors applauded, and Crope hollered. A few members of the audience joined in.
The director briefly explained to Glinda where she was supposed to stand or go for the first few minutes of the scene. After that, she was on her own, although it was often obvious enough, considering the script, the set and the position of the other participants. Every now and again, he interrupted to correct her, but he did the same for the other actors, too.
To her surprise, time went very fast while she was onstage, and it wasn't nearly as scary as she'd thought it would be. Perhaps, it was actually something she might find enjoyable, given a little more practice and acclimatisation.
They momentarily stepped aside for the stagehands to quickly transform the set. The next scene was set at a train station, from where Crope's character, Lark, was to travel back to the front. Glinda started feeling a little nervous. Before boarding the train, the script told Lark to kiss his wife goodbye.
The scene opened with a buzzing crowd of people on the platform, including the main character's mother, sisters, and several children. They all said their farewells in turn, while the other passengers climbed into the waiting carriages. Eventually, only Crope and Glinda remained onstage.
"My loveliest, dearest Hawley," Crope began, taking her hands and stroking them softly with his thumps. "I wish I could make this moment last an eternity, so I never have to leave your side. But I can't, and I'm afraid I have to go now, or the train will leave without me."
"Would that really be so bad?" Glinda asked, a lump in her throat. Unfortunately, her emotional display was much more a result of her unease than her acting ability.
The next few words Crope said hardly registered with her, but suddenly, the world seemed to stand still, when he started to bend down in order to place a kiss on her lips.
It was but a fleeting peck, and Glinda recovered. She'd imagined far worse. Crope nodded at her, gave her hands a quick squeeze, then reached down to grab his army backpack.
"Wait! Stop!" Dale called, making Glinda startle out of her daze. "Is that all?" he demanded, walking over to Crope. "Really?"
Crope awkwardly shrugged his shoulders.
"Boy, this girl is the love of your life, and you're leaving her behind to fight a war. You might never see her again. And all we get is"—he waved his arms around in a hopeless attempt to find the right word—"this?"
Crope laughed a little, scratching the back of his neck and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"Okay, look, Dale. I promise I'll grab my partner tonight and practice real hard." Amused laughter spread through the room, but the director still didn't appear placated.
"Crope, you've been doing this for a while now. Compared to some of the babies here, you're a full-blown professional. You need to try harder. And I mean right here, onstage, during rehearsal."
"I gotcha, man," the boy in question retorted, rolling his eyes. "But for starters, Glinda here isn't even an actress. And then, she's also my flatmate. Kissing her full-on would be like mega weird."
Dale looked at Glinda, and she quietly agreed with what her friend had said. Heaving a deep sigh, the man brought up his hand to cradle his head.
"Children. It's just a bloody kiss. It's just acting. You shouldn't make this personal. This is not a high school play, you aren't some hormonal teenagers. It's not a big deal."
Glinda's heart began to race, her breathing accelerated. Just a kiss? Of course it was nothing but a meaningless stage kiss, just as meaningless as all the other times men had pressed their lips against her face without her permission. The memories of those instances still made her stomach lurch whenever she recalled them.
"I have never properly kissed before."
The confession had tumbled out of her mouth before she'd even realised the thought in her head. Astonished, she rested her hand above her heart, eyes staring unseeingly at the floor. The audience was likewise shocked into silence—for a few clock-ticks at least, until a few chuckles and murmurs emerged.
"Awww, how pure!" one girl cooed, a little too loudly.
"A pretty lass like you?" a guy called. "I don't believe that for one second!"
"Saemie here would be happy to tutor you!" his neighbour added.
Glinda felt Crope's hand on her shoulder, but couldn't bring herself to look up.
"I think I need a bathroom break," she muttered before giving the director a little nod and heading towards the exit, willing herself not to break into a run.
She vaguely remembered which direction to go, but she felt dizzy and fumbled for the rail on the wall. When she reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind her, then darted for the sink. Her first impulse was to splash cold water into her face, but, just in time, she remembered that she still needed her makeup to stay in place. She resolved to simply rinse her forearms and dab some water on her chest and neck, even though that did not quite have the same effect.
Breathing heavily, she hovered above the sink for a while, propped up on both arms. The water was still running, and she focused on watching it as it disappeared down the drain. Soon, her gaze became unfocused and blurry. Her mind turned blank and her head heavy. At last, her body calmed.
Urgent rapping on the door broke her trance. Her head snapped up to the mirror, and she blinked in mild confusion.
"It's me, Glin." She heard Crope's voice on the other side. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she called back as loudly as her choked-up lungs would allow.
"Can you let me in?"
She wasn't keen on huddling up on the gross bathroom floor together to share her misery and woes. In fact, she didn't want any pity or consolation at all. When Crope knocked again, she briefly turned around to shout at the door that she was coming in a minute before continuing to study her reflection.
She looked at herself, musing how little she'd changed in the past few months. On the surface that was. On the inside, she felt that she'd grown. Regarding her likeness in the mirror, she felt a faint sense of pride blooming in her chest. She'd come a long way recently. She was in love with a girl and ready to pursue a relationship with her, if only she could figure out her crush's feelings on the matter. She might never have properly kissed anyone yet, but she would gladly (if carefully) try it, if it was Elphaba who asked her to. She was doing rather well, she decided, and would not allow herself to be dragged down by those strangers' judgement. She wouldn't kiss Crope to conform to their expectations, nor to please the director. But she'd go back out there and finish what she'd started.
With a nod to herself, she turned off the water and dried her hands by shaking them sharply, flinging drops at the mirror and the wall.
"I'm ready now," she said softly as she opened the door.
Crope seemed startled, but mustered a little smile.When he offered to take her home, she shook her head.
"No. I'll stay. It will be alright."
"Are you... are you sure?"
She appreciated his concern, but didn't like the sceptical look on his face. It made her doubt herself, and goodness knew, it had taken her too long to arrive at this point, just for him to unintentionally knock her back a few steps.
"I'm sure," she said firmly, unblinking eyes shining with determination.
He almost appeared to be struggling under the intensity of her gaze. Nodding his understanding, he offered her a hand.
"Alright. Let's get back then."
Wordlessly, she took it and followed him down the hallway. They crossed the empty foyer, but instead of leading her back through the entrance they'd initially come through, Crope chose another door that led to the dark backstage area. Left and right, the narrow corridor was lined with boxes and props, too bulky to be stored away in any container. Eventually, the passage opened into a larger space, directly behind the stage. Glinda headed for the light coming through the ever so slightly parted curtain on the right-hand side, but Crope tightened his grip on her hand and held her back. Confused, she turned around to cast him a questioning look.
"Dale will probably ask us to repeat the scene," he told her and licked his lips anxiously. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"We can do that," she replied quietly.
"Then what about the kiss?"
Pulling back her shoulders and lifting her chin, she met his eyes again.
"I won't let them bully me into something I'm not comfortable with," she said decidedly.
"Of course not," agreed her friend, clearing his voice. "But may I... may I try something?"
Her heart gave a little flutter of disquiet, but she was quick to squash it. She trusted Crope. Not as much as Fiyero, of course, but for this, it would be enough.
"I—I suppose that's fine," she answered, telling herself not to look away as he stepped even closer.
He slowly raised his hand to stroke her cheek, very close to her ear. The uncertainty of what his next step would be still made her nervous, and she almost flinched. Before she knew it, he leaned in, causing her heart to leap right into her throat.
His lips made soft, lingering contact with her skin, disconnected briefly, then returned for another tender caress. A sigh escaped her mouth as the tension left her body. Instead of her lips, Crope had kissed her on the same spot he'd previously touched with his hand. She was okay with that. Because it was Crope, and because she knew his intentions were entirely harmless.
The boy in front of her drew away at last, smiling at her in what looked like a mixture of embarrassment and concern.
"Was that alright, babe?"
His expression almost made her giggle.
"Yes, that was fine," she confirmed, tugging at his hand as she turned around. "We should get going now. I'm sure everyone is waiting."
"So it's really okay if I do this onstage?" he asked to make absolutely sure she knew what he was planning.
She stopped.
"Yes," she breathed without looking back. "This one time."
The room fell quiet the moment they re-emerged from behind the curtain. The setup hadn't changed, which Glinda took for a confirmation that the scene would have to be re-done, even though nobody seemed comfortable saying it out loud. With one last glance at Crope, she took her position from the beginning of the scene, and her flatmate followed suit. The director nodded at them before instructing the rest of the cast to do the same.
Everything unfolded exactly the same way it had earlier, until Crope and Glinda once again were the last performers left, the spotlight burning down on them. They said their lines. Crope repeated the kiss they'd practiced backstage without even the slightest deviation. She tried to act her part, as if the intimate skin to skin contact had moved something deep within her. Yet, for the life of her, she couldn't conjure up such feelings, when all she thought about was the bizarre sensation of moist lips on her hot cheek.
Crope's character boarded the train, and it began to move. She ran after it, so they could exchange a few vows of their love, until she was forced to stay behind, burying her face in her silken handkerchief. The curtain fell and act one was over.
Nobody mentioned the kiss in any way. One or two of the audience members clapped. Dale directed everyone to get ready for the next act as soon as the crew had finished changing over the set. Glinda was now free to return to her seat. She wouldn't be needed until very close to the end, when a messenger would bring Hawley the news of her husband's demise. She'd never read this part of the script before, since it didn't contain any of Crope's lines. Diligent as she was, she snatched one of the extra script copies from a small side table and disappeared into a dark corner. Taking out her phone for light, she flicked through the pages and began to practice her final scene.
On Friday, she went to Fiyero's after work for a sleepover. Elphaba's conference was going to be on the following Wednesday, so it was fairly obvious where she'd spend the rest of her weekend. The least she could do for her best friend was to take him out for dinner and kick his ass on his newest edition of Underground Fighters.
"You're right," laughed Fiyero after Glinda had told him all about her experience at the theatre. "Kissing is totally gross. I'm not sure why anyone would do it."
She looked at him for a moment and shrugged.
"Only if tongues are involved, I think. Otherwise, it's more of a sensitivity-slash-anxiety issue for me."
"Fair enough. For me it's an all-around 'no'."
"I've kissed you on your cheek before. Was that so bad?" she teased him, leaning in as though she might ambush him any second.
"Well that... that doesn't really count. I mean, it's not too invasive or anything. And I know that it's a sign of affection, so it makes me happy if it comes from the right kind of person. But I don't feel anything if you do it. If you know what I mean."
"I don't believe anyone does," Glinda replied, her brow furrowed. "Not unless it's a proper kiss, and shared with your special person. Unless you're actually someone who's attracted to other people. I hear that might also do the trick."
They both chuckled, but the blonde's frown quickly returned. I don't know if anyone could ever make it feel good for me," she admitted dejectedly.
"Are you thinking of Elphaba? Have you ever fantasised about kissing her?"
"As a matter of fact I have," she laughed mirthlessly. "In a manner of speaking. I've had nightmares kissing her and hating it."
Fiyero stared at her blankly.
"Oh. Okay."
"Yeah."
They both sighed in unison, then laughed about it.
"Well, just wait until it happens, and then you'll know for sure. That's all I can say to comfort you, I'm afraid."
"I know," she agreed, bobbing her head. Then, she looked up and smiled at him. "How about a visit to the mini mart. Pick up some drinks and popcorn and watch stupid B movies all night?"
"Sounds like a plan."