Grantaire gazed upwards at the sign towering over him: The Café Lemblin. "The best coffee in Paris," he thought to himself. "Well, I suppose a break from wine never hurt anyone." He ambled inside.
Grantaire was a mastermind of understatement, and his use of the word 'suppose' was a prime example. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Grantaire was mortified by the incident at the Café Musain three weeks ago; it was there that all of his worst vices were exposed and ridiculed. And in front of Enjolras! Nevertheless, Grantaire had continued to frequent the café. Twice he had been ejected by the proprietress, once of the proprietress' son, and the last time, he threw himself out, keeping what little shred of dignity he had left. For it was worse now that it had ever been. Most of the students now ignored him entirely; Enjolras didn't even bother to insult him anymore. Marius Pontmercy actually went so far as to run away from him if they encountered each other on the street. Grantaire felt more dejected as the days wore on, and his drinking increased proportionately. He squandered almost a hundred francs on wine. He avoided sobriety the way most people avoid debtor's prison and certain doctors. It was the only way he could forget that he was alone in the world But a part of Grantaire realized this, and it was this part that drove him into the Café Lemblin, supposing that he needed a break from wine.
Grantaire sat down heavily at the counter. Without even bothering to glance up at the serving girl, he muttered, "French hazelnut, cream one sugar." He silenced the part of himself that wanted to add, "and a shot of brandy if you're got any."
"Grantaire!" A rough girl's voice answered him.
Miserably, he looked up at her. "Aurelie, it's such a pleasure to see-"
"Save it Grantaire! I've heard it a hundred times. Now, I'm not fond of you to being with, so it's easy for me to tell you to get out. Usually it's a bit harder for me to actually get you to leave. But this time, the master of the house be backing me up. Told me to tell you it you dare show your face here, I can rightly call the Inspector. I hear you two have a bit of history."
Grantaire's heart dropped into his feet. "But surely-"
"You're not welcome here!" Grantaire slumped out of his chair and left. There was nowhere left to go. He had never been so miserable in all his life. In despair, he curled up in the gutter and made an attempt to sleep.