Chapter Five
THE NICEST GIRL AROUND

𓃹

Galinda had eagerly suggested a sleepover between herself, Drusilla, and Elphaba the moment they returned to Shiz. It had been a whirlwind evening of events, laughter, and emotions, and now the three girls found themselves in the quiet comfort of one another, ready to unwind and bond.

However, sleep seemed to be a distant prospect.

"Wait a second," Galinda's voice came out muffled, the bobby pin clenched between her teeth as she worked deftly to pin back a lock of her golden hair.

Her movements were quick, practiced, but there was a certain care in how she handled herself, like a dancer perfecting her routine. Drusilla and Elphaba sat side by side on the bed, legs crossed comfortably beneath them, watching with quiet amusement. The room was soft with the glow of dimmed lights, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and the faint hint of a candle burning in the corner.

The three girls were dressed in pajama sets, a mix of comfort and casual elegance. Drusilla wore a nightgown that fell just above her mid-thigh, a modest improvement from the one Galinda had caught her in before, soft fabric that billowed slightly as she moved. Elphaba, in contrast, wore a loose black robe that was buttoned in the front—practical and laid-back, yet undeniably comfortable. Galinda, of course, had chosen something more polished—a bright pink robe that shimmered softly in the low light, the fabric clinging to her form in all the right places, almost regal in its beauty.

"You're telling me that was your first party ever?" Galinda asked, eyebrows raised as she looked over her shoulder at Elphaba, her tone filled with mock disbelief.

"Well, do funerals count?" Elphaba replied, her voice dripping with dry mockery, her smirk evident even in the dim light. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned back against the headboard, arms folded.

"That was fuuny," Galinda replied, her voice light, but there was an affectionate edge to it that Drusilla couldn't miss.

Drusilla could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she observed Galinda laughing. The sound of Galinda's laughter, light and unrestrained, echoed through the room, filling the air with a sense of joy that was impossible to ignore. Drusilla's chest fluttered at the sound, an odd but comforting warmth spreading through her as she continued to watch her friends.

And just as quickly as the moment had passed, Galinda suddenly sprang forward with a burst of energy, landing on the bed beside Drusilla. The bed creaked softly under her weight as she landed, the silk of her robe trailing out behind her like a delicate stream of water. She was close now, and Drusilla could feel the heat from her skin as Galinda positioned herself with a playful grin. Without warning, Galinda placed her hand casually but deliberately on Drusilla's bare thigh.

The touch was light, yet it sent a spark of electricity through Drusilla's veins, a strange and exhilarating feeling that she wasn't quite used to.

Drusilla's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the hand resting on her, not quite sure how to respond. Her heart raced, and she felt a warmth flush across her cheeks.

"Thank you," Elphaba spoke up then, her voice dripping with a mix of amusement and pride. She grinned proudly, her eyes flashing with a bit of mischief, clearly pleased with the direction the conversation—and the evening—had taken.

Drusilla's chest tightened, a mix of confusion and delight swirling inside her. She glanced over at Elphaba, who was watching the exchange with an almost calculating look, as though she were analyzing something far deeper than just the surface banter. Then her gaze flickered back to Galinda, whose smile had grown a little softer, almost fond.

   "I couldn't remotely sleep," Galinda declared, her voice soft but laced with a touch of frustration. She sighed deeply, her breath barely audible in the dimly lit room.

   The shadows from the flickering candlelight danced across her face, making her golden hair glow in the soft light. Galinda's thumb moved absentmindedly across Drusilla's skin, tracing delicate, random patterns that seemed to draw Drusilla's attention more than she'd care to admit. The sensation was light and gentle, almost soothing, yet it stirred something deeper inside her, a quiet, unspoken tension that made it hard to focus on anything else.

   "Neither could I," Elphaba replied, her voice carrying a quiet amusement as she let out a soft, almost melodic giggle. Her lips curved in a small smile, and Drusilla caught a flicker of mischief in her eyes. Elphaba's dark hair framed her face in soft waves, and her green skin seemed to glow slightly under the low candlelight, adding to the warmth in the room.

   "I'm still buzzing from the party," Drusilla added, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She paused, her words hanging in the air. But as soon as they left her lips, she realized the buzz wasn't really from the party. It was from Galinda's fingers lightly grazing her skin, sending sparks of warmth through her leg, making her pulse quicken ever so slightly. The room suddenly felt warmer, the air thick with something unspoken that none of them seemed ready to address.

   Galinda's eyes widened with excitement, and a bright grin spread across her face. "I have an idea!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with energy. She pulled her hand from Drusilla's skin, only to place it gently on Elphaba's arm, squeezing lightly as her eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Let's tell each other something we've never told anyone before... Okay, fine! I'll go first."

   Drusilla and Elphaba exchanged a quick glance, one filled with shared amusement.

   Galinda took a deep breath, her expression suddenly turning serious as she prepared for her confession.

"Fiyero and I are getting married," Galinda blurted out, her voice filled with an infectious excitement that only grew as she flopped back onto the bed, letting out a loud squeal that bounced off the walls. The bed creaked under her weight, and her robe flowed out behind her like a wave of silk. It was as if she couldn't contain the joy bubbling inside her, and it seemed to fill the room with a contagious energy.

   Drusilla blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected announcement. Her heart skipped a beat, and she arched a confused brow as a knot formed in her chest, tightening with each passing second.

"I think my brother would've told me if he was getting married," she replied, her voice shaky, though she tried to mask it with a hint of laughter. Her stomach churned, and she could feel her pulse quicken again, not from excitement, but from something else—something that made her feel both confused and oddly protective.

   Galinda sat up quickly, her expression turning a little more serious as she placed one hand back on Drusilla's thigh, the touch almost possessive. The other hand rested on her chest as if to emphasize the gravity of her words. "Oh, he doesn't know yet."

   The knot in Drusilla's stomach tightened even more, as though something inside her was shifting, unraveling in a way she couldn't fully understand.

   There was an unsettling feeling creeping up on her—something that tugged at her heart and twisted her thoughts in every direction.

   Drusilla's frown deepened, her mind racing with a dozen questions she couldn't ask and emotions she couldn't untangle. The knot in her stomach felt like it was growing, wrapping tighter with every passing second. She wasn't sure what this feeling was, but it made her want to flee, to shake it off, and yet, it stayed. All she knew was that she wanted it to go away, whatever it was—this strange unease that gnawed at her insides.

"Alright, Drusilla..." Galinda's voice sang out, her tone playful yet commanding. A mischievous grin spread across her lips as she turned toward the Tigelaar princess, her blond curls bouncing with the movement. Her blue eyes sparkled with intrigue, and she leaned in slightly, as if preparing to pounce on whatever secret Drusilla was about to spill. "Your turn."

Drusilla hesitated, her posture stiffening as Galinda's words settled over her.

The room suddenly felt too warm, too close, and she wasn't sure if it was from the cozy glow of the candles or the way Galinda was watching her so intently. Her hands rested in her lap, her fingers fidgeting as doubts swirled in her mind. Could she trust them with something so personal?

Could she trust herself to speak it aloud?

Galinda noticed her hesitation. Her teasing smile softened into something gentler, more encouraging. The hand Galinda still rested on Drusilla's thigh gave a light, reassuring squeeze. Drusilla's heart fluttered at the touch, warmth blooming in her chest. It was a comforting gesture, yet it also unsettled her in a way she couldn't quite name. And then, without warning, Galinda shifted her fingers, intertwining them with Drusilla's. The unexpected gesture sent a jolt through Drusilla, but this time, the warmth was undeniable, and her tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

"I'm also getting married," Drusilla admitted at last, her voice quiet but steady. She forced a shaky smile, though the words felt heavier than she had expected. It wasn't something she had spoken aloud in years, and now that it was out in the open, it felt like she had laid her soul bare.

Galinda's reaction was instant and dramatic. Her free hand flew to her chest as she gasped loudly, her blue eyes widening in exaggerated shock. In her excitement, she pulled her hand away from Drusilla's thigh, leaving an odd sense of emptiness in its wake. Drusilla frowned at the loss of contact, but Galinda's theatrics quickly pulled her focus.

"What? Really?" Elphaba leaned forward, her sharp green features lit with curiosity. Her dark brows knitted together as her piercing gaze studied Drusilla.

"Well, yes," Drusilla sighed, her voice dropping as she shifted her gaze to her hands. Her fingers began to pick at her nails, a nervous habit she couldn't seem to break. "To a boy. A prince. His name is Ricardo Evergreen. It was arranged by our parents shortly after we were born." Her voice carried the weight of resignation, like a story she had told herself so many times that the edges had dulled. "I was supposed to marry him on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, but I begged my parents to let me finish my schooling first. Surprisingly, they agreed."

"Oh my," Galinda whispered, her hand reaching out to cover Drusilla's, stopping her nervous picking. Her touch was firm but gentle, her pale fingers pressing lightly over Drusilla's trembling hands. "I mean, at least he's a prince, right?" she added, her voice light but unsure, as if she were trying to find the silver lining in a storm cloud.

Her lips curved into a smile, but it didn't hold its usual brightness. It felt smaller, dimmer, and for once, Galinda seemed unsure of herself.

Drusilla glanced up, catching the forced nature of Galinda's smile. It wasn't the radiant grin she was used to seeing. In its place was something tight, almost hesitant. Drusilla felt a pang of guilt for worrying her friend but couldn't summon a better response.

"I'm not like you, Galinda," Drusilla said softly, shaking her head. Her voice carried a quiet sorrow as she gently pulled her hands out from under the blonde's. The loss of warmth was immediate, but it felt necessary. "I don't want to marry a prince. I just want someone who will love me for me—not for some truce between our countries or some kind of exponential gain for our families."

The room fell into a weighted silence, the gravity of her words sinking into the space between them. Galinda stared at her for a long moment, her eyes searching Drusilla's face as if trying to understand the depth of her longing. Elphaba, for once, seemed at a loss for words, her usually sharp tongue stilled as she absorbed the vulnerability laid bare before her.

"Okay, now you tell us a secret," Galinda said, her tone light but insistent as she shifted her attention to Elphaba. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and determination, clearly eager to steer the conversation into new territory.

Elphaba hesitated, her sharp green gaze flickering toward Drusilla. But the Tigelaar girl met her with a soft, reassuring smile, silently letting her know it was okay. Galinda, however, seemed more eager to move past the topic of Drusilla's arranged marriage, her smile tight and her nods hurried, as if she were pushing the moment aside before it could linger too long.

"Like what?" Elphaba asked, turning back to Galinda, her voice laced with cautious interest.

"Like..." Galinda trailed off dramatically, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for inspiration. Suddenly, her expression brightened, and she snapped her focus back to Elphaba. "Like why you sleep with this funny little green bottle under your pillow!"

Elphaba froze, her brows furrowing as Galinda swiftly turned behind her, reaching under the pillow and pulling out the bottle in question. "What is this? I want to know!" Galinda exclaimed, holding the small green bottle triumphantly in the air like a prize.

Elphaba immediately lunged forward, her hands outstretched in an attempt to grab it. "No, give it back," she said firmly, though her tone was still soft, her movements careful not to escalate the playful energy.

But Galinda wasn't ready to surrender so easily. She spun on her heels, keeping the bottle just out of Elphaba's reach, her laugh light and teasing. "Come on, tell us! What is it?"

Elphaba's patience snapped, her voice rising sharply. "Give it back!"

The sudden outburst hung in the air, silencing the room. Drusilla's eyes widened, her brow lifting in surprise as she watched Galinda's face fall, her wide eyes betraying a mix of guilt and surprise. Without another word, Galinda slowly returned the bottle to Elphaba's outstretched hand.

Elphaba clutched it protectively, her knuckles whitening as she placed it carefully back under her pillow. Her voice was quiet now, almost a whisper. "It was my mother's," she said, her tone tinged with a sadness that seemed to fill the room. "It was my mother's. That's all."

For a moment, an awkward silence lingered, the weight of Elphaba's words grounding the playful energy from before. Drusilla shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond, but Galinda, ever determined to keep the night from growing somber, piped up once more.

"Well, that's not fair," she declared, turning her attention to Drusilla with an exaggerated pout. Drusilla raised a brow, waiting for Galinda to continue.

"We told you a really good one," Galinda said, her tone carrying a faux air of indignation as she gestured between herself and Drusilla.

   The girl spun toward her side of the room with exaggerated drama, her brightly colored robe swirling around her like a performer's final act. Her movements were deliberately over-the-top, each stomp across the floor echoing her displeasure. Reaching her bed, she dropped to her knees with a flourish and collapsed forward, resting her head on the mattress's edge. Her blonde curls cascaded down her shoulders, catching the light in a way that made the scene seem almost rehearsed, like something out of a romantic tragedy.

   Drusilla leaned back slightly, folding her arms as a soft smile played on her lips. What a drama queen, she thought, her expression betraying more amusement than irritation.

   To her surprise, Drusilla found herself charmed by the same antics that usually grated on her nerves. She'd met dozens—no, hundreds—of girls like this over the years: polished, high-energy, and prone to theatrical displays. Normally, she found them exhausting, their constant need for attention more of a nuisance than anything else. But Galinda? She was different. There was an undeniable magnetism about her, a light-heartedness that made even her most ridiculous outbursts feel endearing.

   Drusilla's gaze softened as she watched the blonde dramatically drape herself over the bed, still clutching onto her imagined grievance. Adorable, she admitted to herself, the thought surprising her.

   Elphaba shifted beside her, breaking Drusilla's reverie. They exchanged a knowing glance, the corner of Elphaba's mouth twitching with amusement. Without a word, both girls rose from the bed and started toward Galinda.

   When they were halfway there, Galinda lifted her head ever so slightly, just enough to sneak a peek over her shoulder. Her wide, hopeful eyes darted toward them, as though she wanted to confirm they were coming to check on her. But the moment she made eye contact, she hurriedly dropped her head back onto the mattress, her posture screaming Who, me? I wasn't looking!

   Drusilla bit back a laugh, glancing at Elphaba, who rolled her eyes but wore a tiny smile. The two shared a brief, wordless exchange of amusement—a mutual appreciation for the blonde's theatrical tendencies.

   It was hard not to smile. Galinda, in all her dramatic glory, had somehow managed to make the entire room revolve around her without even trying too hard. Typical, Drusilla thought, but the warmth spreading in her chest told her she didn't mind in the slightest.

"My father hates me," Elphaba admitted suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet room. It felt like a revelation tossed into the air to appease Galinda's insatiable appetite for secrets, but the weight of her words hung heavy.

Galinda, as expected, spun around dramatically, her robe swishing as she gasped, her wide blue eyes locking onto Elphaba. "What?"

Elphaba chuckled softly, shaking her head, the sound both bitter and amused. "That's not the secret."

Galinda's excitement deflated as quickly as it had appeared. "Oh," she murmured, shifting awkwardly in her spot.

"The secret," Elphaba continued, her gaze dropping to the floor, "is that he has a good reason."

Drusilla frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion and disbelief. No father should ever have a good reason to hate his child. The very notion made her chest tighten with an unshakable sense of wrongness.

Without even realizing it, Drusilla and Elphaba both moved to sit on the floor beside Galinda. The closeness felt grounding, a silent pact of support between the three of them. Drusilla's fingers brushed Galinda's, curling around them instinctively. She wasn't sure why she did it—perhaps for her own comfort, or perhaps to reassure the blonde—but she noticed Galinda didn't pull away. Instead, Galinda's fingers tightened slightly, their connection unspoken but understood.

"It's my fault," Elphaba said at last, her voice quieter now, her lips pressing into a faint, reluctant frown.

"What is?" Galinda asked softly, leaning forward with genuine concern.

"That my sister is the way she is," Elphaba replied, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "When my mother was carrying Nessa, my father was terrified she'd come out..."

"Green," Galinda whispered, her expression solemn, nodding for Elphaba to continue.

Elphaba nodded back, her green hands clenching together in her lap. "He was so worried that he made my mother chew milkflowers day and night. He thought it would stop Nessa from turning out like me." Her voice cracked, and her brow furrowed deeply. "But the milkflowers... they made her come too soon. And her little legs, they..."

Galinda gasped, her hand flying to her chest, but she quickly schooled her expression, not wanting to interrupt. Drusilla, however, reached out, resting her hand on Elphaba's knee. It was a small gesture, but one that carried the weight of her empathy.

"And my mother," Elphaba continued, her voice trembling slightly, "she never woke up." A tense, bitter smile twisted her lips. "None of it would've happened if it weren't for—for me. So, it's my fault."

"No," Galinda muttered firmly, her disbelief evident as she shook her head. Her voice softened but retained its urgency. "That was the milkflowers' fault, not yours."

"She's right," Drusilla added, her voice calm but resolute. "If anything, it's your father's fault. He should've known better."

Elphaba let out a soft, humorless laugh, though the tension in her shoulders eased just slightly. She looked between the two of them, her guarded exterior showing faint cracks as their words settled over her.

"That may be your secret, Elphaba," Galinda said, her voice gentle yet commanding, "but that doesn't make it true." Her gaze was unwavering, and her tone carried a weight that even Elphaba couldn't ignore.

A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Elphaba's mouth. She didn't say anything, but the faint glimmer in her eyes suggested their words had reached her, even if she wasn't quite ready to believe them yet.

Suddenly, a beam of light broke through the window, flooding the room with a soft, golden glow. Galinda gasped dramatically, her wide eyes sparkling as she pointed toward the window. "Look! It's tomorrow!"

Before either of the other girls could respond, Galinda shot to her feet with a burst of energy that made both Elphaba and Drusilla furrow their brows in confusion. Turning toward the bed, she clapped her hands together with an almost childlike glee. "And Elphie... can I call you Elphie?"

Elphaba arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. "Well, it's a little bit perky, I—"

"I know!" Galinda interrupted with a beaming grin, clearly pleased with herself. She grabbed both Drusilla's and Elphaba's wrists, pulling them up onto the bed with surprising strength. "I know, I'm gonna call you that!"

Galinda plopped herself in the center of the bed, sitting between the two with a triumphant smile. "And you can call me... Galinda."

Drusilla raised an amused brow, fighting back a grin. "That is your name?"

   Galinda spun toward her, placing a hand on Drusilla's thigh and tilting her head as if delivering sage wisdom. "Let's not quarrel, darling."

   Then, with a swift turn back to Elphaba, she clasped her hands together dramatically. "Elphie, now that we're friends," she began, her voice taking on an almost regal tone, "I've decided to make you my new project."

   She paused only to glance at Drusilla, tapping the tip of her nose with a playful finger. "And you, my little assistant."

   Drusilla blinked in surprise, her lips parting to respond, but before she could, Elphaba spoke up, her expression faltering. "Oh, you really don't have to do that."

   Galinda leaned forward, her proud smile unwavering. "I know. That's what makes me so nice."

   Whatever was to happen next, Drusilla was certain it would be entertaining.

CHAPTER FIVE IS HERE! 🤗

NOWWWW... i know you're probably confused why it ended so randomly without going into Popular BUTTTT i was trying to write this scene and the song but IT WAS WAYYYY TOO LONG! i didn't want to bore you by such a long chapter SOOOO perhaps take this as part 1 (part 2 of this chapter will come much quicker than part 2 of wicked, i assure you) 🤭

i hope you enjoyed and don't forget to share your thoughts!! 🫶🫶