Brief Encounters

Part 30 - Wicked Previews

Jeanna's Point of View

Preview night was finally over. The applause had been thunderous-louder than I'd dared to hope. Even now, its echoes seemed to hum in my chest, a lingering vibration that was almost tangible. I stayed seated in the dressing room, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The remnants of Glinda clung to me like an aura: glitter dusted my cheeks, catching the harsh fluorescent light in flashes of defiant sparkle. No matter how much I wiped, it refused to leave.

The performance had been magical in every sense of the word, the kind of night that actors dream of. Yet, beneath the triumph, there was a weight-small but steady-that I couldn't quite shake. The high of the evening warred with something quieter, something unsettled.

Across the room, Idina was midway through her ritual of shedding Elphaba's skin, scrubbing at the deep green paint with practiced efficiency. Her movements were deliberate, each swipe of the cotton pad a small victory in the battle to reclaim her face.

She caught my eye in the mirror, her lips curving into a wry smile. "So," she drawled, "how's it feel to be the sparkliest witch in Oz?"

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, leaning back in my chair. "Feels like I'm one wipe away from developing glitter-related PTSD," I said, tossing another spent makeup remover pad into the trash.

"Better you than me," she quipped, holding up a cotton ball streaked with green. "This stuff lingers for weeks. My bedsheets? A crime scene. Looks like I took out the Hulk in a fit of rage."

Her mock-serious tone drew a laugh from me-a real one that loosened some of the tightness in my chest. For a moment, the room felt lighter, the noise of the night receding into the background.

But then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed against the counter. The sound was sharp, intrusive, breaking the spell. The name on my screen:

William.

The dressing room noise dulled to a hum as I stared at the phone, hesitating. My hand hovered over it for just a second longer than it should have.

Finally, I picked it up and pressed the screen. "Hi," I said, my voice softer than usual, as though I could smooth over whatever lay on the other side.

"Hi," he replied. His tone was calm, measured as always, but beneath it, I could hear the strain-a heaviness that seeped through, no matter how carefully he tried to mask it.

"How are you holding up?" I asked, leaning forward, my elbow resting on the counter.

"Just getting ready for the the events," he said. The weariness in his words was subtle, but it was there, tucked into the spaces between syllables. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet before I leave."

"That's fine, babe," I said, forcing a lightness into my tone. "Just focus on your work for now, will you?"

There was a pause. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost distant. "Okay."

And then, just like that, the call ended.

I lowered the phone slowly, letting it rest on the counter. The silence that followed wasn't just empty-it was weighted, pressing down on me more than it should have. I stared at the black screen, my reflection faintly visible in its surface.

"Was that him?" Idina's voice broke through the quiet, careful but not prying.

"Yeah," I said, glancing at her briefly before looking away. "He's fine. Just... busy."

She studied me for a moment, her eyes sharp but kind. Then, without a word, she handed me another wipe. "Well," she said, her tone breezy, "whatever royal nonsense he's got going on, don't let it ruin your glitter-removal ritual. It's sacred."

I took the wipe with a faint smile, grateful for her unspoken understanding. "Thanks for the wisdom, oh Great and Wise Witch of the West," I said, starting on another patch of stubborn sparkle. "And for the record, Glinda only sparkles for the first week. After that, it's a strictly glitter-free era."

"Naughty, naughty Glinda," she said, laughing. "I wish I could go greenless for a week."

Her laugh pulled me back into the moment, grounding me. I let the warmth of it fill the space that William's call had left empty.

"So, are we doing this?" she said, her tone shifting to something lighter, "Beers at the pub?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You think I'd turn down a pub night? Never."

"Good," she said, clapping her hands together. "First round's on you. Glitter tax."

I rolled my eyes, but my grin was genuine as I grabbed my coat. We joined the group of cast mates waiting by the stage door, their laughter spilling into the cool night air.