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isabrellaChapters: 2/2
Fandom: Wicked (Movie 2024)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Elphaba Thropp/Galinda Upland
Characters: Elphaba Thropp, Galinda Upland
Tags: Youtuber AU, Popular but it's a beauty tutorial, Period-typical feminism (it's 2012), oh my god they were roommates, Enemies to sexually charged frenemies
Summary:
It's VidCon 2012. Glinda is a popular beauty vlogger; Elphaba is an unpopular feminist blogger.
And oh my god, they were roommates.
“Okay, whatever,” Glinda said. “Why are you in my room?”
“Our room,” Elphaba replied. “They’re oversubscribed.”
Glinda glanced her up and down. “Not a problem you’ve ever had, I suspect.”
Notes:
Basically I thought of Popular as a beauty tutorial and blacked out and came to with this in my Ellipsus drafts.
Glinda smiles and waves as she walks out onto the stage. The room is packed, not a single empty seat. She can’t see much detail over the stage lights, but she sees a lot of pink. Her fans.
She looked up the other panelists beforehand.
All of them except Elphaba.
Glinda didn’t need to look her up because when she got to her hotel room on Wednesday afternoon, Elphaba was right there.
Glinda jumped. The girl was green.
“No, I didn’t eat spinach as a child,” she rattled off, rolling her eyes. It’s not like Glinda was going to ask. She was raised right, and this girl obviously just painted her skin for whatever lame science fiction-related vlogs she made.
“Okay, whatever,” Glinda said. “Why are you in my room?”
“Our room,” Elphaba replied. “They’re oversubscribed.”
Glinda glanced her up and down. “Not a problem you’ve ever had, I suspect.”
In the bathroom at the pre-party, Glinda Googled her. Less than two hundred thousand subscribers. She blogs about feminism.
Now they’re here. Glinda takes her seat, the leftmost one, and accepts a microphone from the black-dressed assistant. On her right is a woman who has a yoga empire, a travel vlogger, a sex educator, and then… Elphaba.
The moderator starts by asking them to introduce themselves and Glinda tosses her hair over one shoulder, her signature move. She smiles at the crowd winningly. “I’m Glinda, better known as glinda-the-good-witch, and I’m so happy to be here!”
Her fans give a resounding round of applause and she turns to her fellow panelists.
Once they’ve completed the introductions, the moderator starts them off with a discussion of the things that appeal most to their audiences. The yoga girl is pretty bland. Knows a lot about her metrics. So does Glinda, but it’s not exactly sexy to talk about it.
She knows exactly what appeals to her audience. They want the shine. The perfect coif. The knowledge that every single Thursday afternoon, she’ll be there, showing them her perfect life.
She doesn’t say that, of course.
She says, “Young women want someone they can look up to. Being a vlogger is about being an entrepreneur, about knowing your own worth, and young women want to know that they can do that too.”
“An interesting perspective,” Elphaba says, and Glinda hates how her mouth is tilted up just a little, like a question mark.
“How so?” she asks lightly, like she’s letting the crowd in on a secret.
“You teach girls how to do make up. So they can look older and appeal to boys—men—and infantilize themselves.”
Glinda blinks rapidly. “That’s not…” She swallows and regroups. Never stutter on stage. She knew she hated Elphaba the moment she saw her. “I’m a feminist,” she says firmly, taking control of the narrative. She didn’t watch any of Elphaba’s videos—they looked boring and most of them clocked in at over ten minutes. No one has time for that. “I think women can do anything men can. And I think anything a woman wants to do, she should.”
“You don’t teach boys how to do make up.”
Glinda blinks. Boys don’t care about make up. Why would she court an audience that she has nothing to offer? “Exactly,” she says tightly. “Boys don’t need makeup. My videos are for a predominantly female audience.”
She knows it’s a mistake the second she says it, but it’s out there, and it’s too late to take it back, and never, ever let them see you hesitate.
“I see,” Elphaba says, and the moderator moves them on, and a slow, burning anger starts in Glinda’s chest.
Glinda stays until the bitter end, smiling and twinkling and waving, and the second she’s backstage she lets it fall. Fuck Elphaba. She stomps back to her room, flinging open the door and leaning against it.
She’s a feminist.
She is!
She teaches girls to value themselves. She teaches them about business and how to get ahead and how to look pretty for themselves.
Who cares about men?
Certainly not Glinda.
The door bangs open and Glinda jumps, turning to glare at Elphaba.
“What the hell was all that about?” Glinda demands, crossing her arms and staring her up and down.
“Nothing,” Elphaba says.
“So you just did it for fun…?” Glinda shakes her head.
“You need to learn that there’s more to life than make up and fashion and vlogging about your stupid bentō box lunches,” Elphaba says. So she does watch her channel. “There are real people with real issues out there.”
“Like what? Like being green?”
“Yes, actually,” Elphaba says. “I know you’re just dying to know. So go on. Ask me.”
“I—” Glinda sighs. “I wasn’t,” she says defiantly. “It wouldn’t be polite.”
“But you want to know, don’t you?” Elphaba sticks her chin out.
“Why… are you… green?” Glinda says, looking out the window instead of at Elphaba. What does any of that have to do with Elphaba making her make a complete fool of herself, anyway?
“Where I grew up has a huge pollution problem. When my mom was pregnant, she drank unfiltered water, because she couldn’t afford anything else, and I came out like… well, this.”
“Okay,” Glinda says, waving her hand. “That’s all very sad, I’m sure—but what does that have to do with me?”
“Nothing,” Elphaba says. “Nothing at all.”
“So why…?”
“Not everything’s about you,” Elphaba says. “I just… have principles.”
“And those include tearing other women down?”
“I just wish people would stop acting like selling products that make women feel bad about themselves is feminist. I don’t care that you’re a beauty vlogger, I just wish you’d admit that you’ve totally capitulated to the patriarchy.”
“I’m not capitulating to anything,” Glinda says indignantly. “I’m certainly not capitulating to your ridiculous notion of feminism.”
“Have you ever read anything about feminism that wasn’t a social media post? Do you know who Kimberlé Crenshaw is?” Elphaba says incredulously. “Naomi Wolf? That’s topical, for sure.”
“Do they have more subscribers than you?” Glinda says, examining her nails. One of them is chipping a little at the edge.
“Stop,” Elphaba says. “I can’t. Okay. Make me a deal.”
Glinda stares at her over her nails. “Why would I make you a deal?”
“I think that panel might not be great for your image.”
Glinda, unfortunately, has been having the same thought.
“And you’re going to help me repair it?” she says skeptically.
“We can do a feminism… 101 video. You can get your feminist card, people love you again…”
“And you get a pretty massive infusion of subscribers.”
“Quid pro quo.” Elphaba shrugs. “Are you going to help me, or not?” she says coolly.
“We’re not fucking collaborating.”
“Okay,” Elphaba says, tossing herself down on her bed and looking up at the ceiling.
Glinda does the same, then pulls up YouTube Analytics on her iPad.
Her subscriber numbers are dropping.
Not a lot. Barely a drop, really, on the background of more than four million. But it’s the first time since she started posting that she’s lost subscribers. It was a steady, then an exponential, rise to the top.
She flips over to Twitter. She’s dropping more followers there, and she’s been tagged in a bunch of Tweets. They all seem to be on Elphaba’s side.
“Fine,” she says, turning over. “One video.”
“Hmm,” is all Elphaba says.
Chapter 2: Basic Beginner’s Makeup for GREEN Skin on Dreamwidth.
Thanks as always to resurrecho for beta-ing!
Rebloggable link on Tumblr here and this fic on SquidgeWorld.
I'm on Tumblr; SqWA and Discord (comment).
