(NOTE: In the actual book and musical, a little known fact is that Enjolras, Combeferre, etc. are their last names. In this version, Enjolras, Combeferre, Grantaire, etc. are their first names for simplicity.)

SÉRAPHINE POV

On April 2, 1832, I arose from my bed at around ten in the morning. This was a few hours later than was my habit. Most mornings I would rise with the sun, letting the rays of light enter through my window and stir me from my slumber. Since I lived alone, I had no one to awake me and had to rely only on the sun's beams to wake me up. As I peered at the grandfather clock across from my bed, I noticed that I had only an hour before I would be meeting my best friend in the town square. I had to hurry up to get ready or else I would be late.

My name is Séraphine Beaulieu. I am nineteen years old, a middle-class woman living in Paris, France. My father always describes me as his "little firecracker," where my mother instead thinks of me as having my "head in the sky." I do not disagree with either of them, but I prefer to think that there is more to me than impulsive passion and fantastical daydreams. Even so, I have not yet figured out who I truly am or what I truly desire. This is probably a result of my constant loneliness; were I blessed with more frequent company, I believe I would be more aware of the possibilities that await me and thus more aware of the woman I have the potential to become.

Although I have acquaintances and a best friend who goes by the name of Éponine, I still find myself longing for more people to talk to and befriend. My parents do not live with me but instead live in a cozy cottage about twenty miles north of where I live. I have only been there twice. Because of an event that happened in my youth, an event which I will describe in more detail at a later time, my parents now have to live separately from me. They still, however, supply me with what I need. They send me food, clothing, and enough money to provide for my basic necessities. In order to have some extra money to spend on the occasional nicety here and there, perhaps a book or a new frock, I have been taking up odd jobs for various people in my neighborhood. I often tend to their houses, watch their children, and sew for them. Sometimes the people I help out can be rather shady, but the company of their children and the surplus money make it worth it.

Because I did not have to work for anyone on April 2, I was meeting Éponine at eleven in the morning. I hurriedly washed myself. Then I put on one of my long red frocks and covered myself with a simple white cloak, knowing I was at risk of being tardy for my meeting with my dear friend. After quickly running a comb through my long brown locks, I stepped into my modestly-heeled shoes and took a pastry tart from my kitchen to give to Éponine. I only had a few minutes, so I scurried out the door and walked as quickly as I could without running.

I had not been in the center of the square for more than three seconds when I heard a voice yelling, "Séraphine!"

Turning around, I noticed Éponine running towards me. She had her signature devil-may-care smile plastered across her face. I could never help but admire the girl - she had been through so much, yet she still managed to keep herself happy.

"Hello, Éponine!" I greeted in return, pulling her into a hug and handing her the pastry tart after we broke apart.

"This is wonderful, Séraphine; thanks!" she said as she hungrily ate what was probably the nicest thing she would eat all week. "You look wonderful, as usual."

I felt guilty because, although I knew she meant it as a genuine compliment, she could not hide her envy. I had been blessed with enough surplus money to buy myself a few nice garments, but she consistently arrived to our meetings in rags. Despite my guilt, I appreciated Éponine tremendously for her friendship and selflessness. Were I in her position, I would probably find it very hard not to resent someone who had what I have. For that, I considered Éponine the greatest person in my life, someone whom I counted on and looked to for counseling. She was the one person I could feel at home with, the person who made me feel like I had a family after my parents were separated from me.

"Thank you," I acknowledged. "So, did you have anything in mind to do today?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe today I would introduce you to Marius."

"Oh!" I teased gently. "The famous Marius Pontmercy that I've heard so much about!"

Éponine blushed a bright red and said, "He should be coming out for lunch in the square with the rest of the schoolboys in a half hour or so. Maybe I could take you to them? And maybe he'll let us eat with them? I think he'd want to meet you, Séraphine; God knows I talk about you enough to him."

I giggled lightly, feeling flattered that Éponine talked about me to her crush of so many years. "That sounds perfect. Now tell me, how come I haven't met Marius before?"

"Oh. Well, I guess the times have never matched up. You spend some days tending to people's children as their parents go out for lunch dates, and the boys have been spending their nights working on some secret plan. So it's hard to catch them at night, too."

"I see. In any event, I'm very excited to meet him! Anyone who can steal your heart as much as he has must be a pretty great person."

"He is, he really is!" Éponine gushed. "You'll love him, really. Just don't fall in love with him!"

Chuckling, I replied, "I could never do that to you."

With that, we started walking towards the males' school. Every time I passed it I felt my stomach dance and my heart pound. There was very little I wanted more than knowledge. To be able to go to that school would be a dream come true for me. Despite the stigma, I already had many books in my house to satisfy my craving for reading. But getting first-hand experience in a school with a teacher and other students sounded too good to be true. It was one of the many things I disliked about how France was governed: females, I believed, should be able to attend schools.

Together we walked and talked about everything and nothing, which was one of the things I loved about my best friend. We could start off talking about something serious, like the state of the country, and diverge into something lighthearted like future adventures and men.

Seeming to be thinking of men herself, Éponine pressed, "So, Séraphine. There's really no one that you have feelings for?"

I shook my head no. "Most of the men I've met are lovely people, but I just don't feel anything with them. I'm sure you understand, what with Marius. Pardon me if this sounds cliché, but I have a very idealistic view of love. The most important thing to me is chemistry."

"I could have said the same thing myself," Éponine smiled as we approached the front of the school building. "Here, why don't we wait out here? The boys should be coming out any minute."

I nodded, standing at the side of the building with her and feeling my heart swell in anticipation. I wanted so badly to meet Marius, and I wanted even more for Éponine to be happy. She deserved so much more than she had gotten out of life, and I knew Marius would be the answer to her prayers.

As that final thought left my head, I heard the sudden slam of a door bursting open, followed by the chatter of dozens of young men around my age. This was it! I would finally get to meet Marius and the rest of the schoolboys that Éponine spoke so fondly of. I loved meeting new people; I always spent my free time trying to make new friends. This was a perfect opportunity.

"Hey, Marius!" Éponine exclaimed, running up to her friend.

Marius appeared both surprised and happy to see her. "'Ponine! What brings you here?"

"I wanted you to meet Séraphine! She finally had the chance to come meet you."

Marius looked my way, and I flashed him my friendliest and most compassionate smile. He bowed to me, probably noticing my attire, and kissed my hand gently.

"Hello, Mademoiselle. I have heard many things about you. All good things!" he added with a chuckle.

"I can say the same for you!" I grinned, peering up at the other boys around him. Feeling awkward at having not introduced myself to the others, I curtsied and said, "My name is Séraphine. You are friends of Marius, I presume?"

"Indeed, we are," said one man with dark blond hair and a twinkle in his eyes. "My name is Combeferre."

"A pleasure," I replied warmly.

"I was wondering if it was all right if Séraphine and I joined you for lunch today?" Éponine asked, particularly looking at Marius.

"It would be our pleasure," Marius responded, leading us all off to the center of the square to get our lunch.

"Hey, Grantaire," Combeferre asked a man with dark hair and a mischievous smile, "where's Enjolras?"

"How the hell should I know?" the man called Grantaire replied as we walked.

"I'm just asking; he is your best friend, after all. Perhaps we should wait for him."

"Wait for him?!" Grantaire cackled. "Do you think that brandy out there is gonna wait for us? Let's go!"

As if on cue, a smooth voice responded from behind, "A lovely thing to say about a friend, Grantaire."

We all turned around towards the door of the schoolhouse. The man who had spoken stood confidently at the door, a smirk dancing on his lips. He oozed charisma and spirit, standing with the posture of a man who knew what he wanted and how to attain it. His eyes were a bright blue, the exact same shade as the blue on the French flag, and his hair was a wild, stray mat of golden-blond curls. His arms were folded across his red vest. Never in my life had I seen someone who so strongly demanded the attention of everyone around him, who so strongly captured everyone's gazes just with a single word and a stance like that of a solider.

That was the first thing I noticed about this man. The second thing I noticed was that, because of his charm and character, I wanted to get to know him. I found myself silently begging for him to turn his attention from Grantaire to me, begging for him to drag his ocean-blue eyes over so they were looking into my brown ones. I wanted him to notice me, to join us for lunch, to tell me his name and ask me for mine.

He was such a magnetic man that I had to know more about him.