A/N HI GUYS

so this is my first fanfic... I just had the idea and couldn't get rid of it and thought WHY NOT basically

So this is probably going to end up being a long one, because to keep them as in character as possible I think it'll need to be

I hope you enjoy it, would love reviews so I know what you think (if anyone reads this)

It's a slow start but it'll pick up I promise

DISCLAIMER: if I owned Les Misérables, my life would be infinitely better, but sadly I don't. I also don't own the song from Bonnie and Clyde or Singing in the Rain


Éponine Thénardier surveyed the scene in front of her with distaste. It had just gone half past eleven at night and she was standing behind the bar of her parents' inn in Paris, wiping out a glass with a rag that looked as though it had been fished out of the Seine after several years in the mud. All around her fights were breaking out, drunkards were falling off the rickety old barstools and a few prostitutes were trying desperately to pick up customers.

So all in all, a typical night for Éponine. She was just glad she was working behind the bar and not in the back room this time.

'Oi, what d'ya call this? You been givin' this shit away?' She turned to see her father holding the contents of the till in his fists with an angry look on his face, directed at her.
'Course not, just been a slow night that's all. Always is on a Thursday, what d'you want me to do?!' Éponine silently cursed herself. That was the wrong question to ask Thénardier when he was feeling out of pocket.
'I don't give a shit what you do, I want another 100 euros in this till before we close up or you'll wish you were never born'
'More than usual?' she snapped back.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her to him. '100 euros' he snarled, before pushing her away so that she smashed into the bar, barely keeping her footing. Éponine looked up defiantly but he had already disappeared into the back. 'That was a stupid thing to do, you dipshit'she thought to herself then looked at the clock with a sigh. Last orders were in 25 minutes and she knew her father was serious about the money.

''ZELMA!' she yelled into the back. Her younger sister Azelma appeared, her brown eyes wide in her drawn, underfed face. Azelma would be quite pretty if she'd had a different life, but instead her mousy brown hair hung limp around her face and her tiny body was dwarfed by the oversize hoody she wore to keep warm. 'Watch the bar for me? I'm going to try and drum up some more business'

Her younger sister understood immediately. 'How much does he want?'
'100 euros'
Azelma slowly blew out a long breath. 'I'll charge a bit extra for each pint'
Éponine gave a small smile as thanks, then crossed the bar to the small stage in the corner by the jukebox, where an ancient microphone stood. If there was one thing that seemed to get people to drink more in the inn, it was a song or two from Éponine, the more suggestive the better. It was an odd phenomenon, but it worked in her favour. All she had to do was imagine she was in the Café Musain - where she spent most of her days - singing to Marius, the love of her life. The idiots around her thought she was singing to them and bought more drinks.

She dropped a coin in the jukebox and selected 'How 'Bout A Dance' from the Bonnie and Clyde musical. A few drunken cheers went up as the intro filled the room and she took to the stage.

Éponine closed her eyes and dreamed as she started to sing.

'How 'bout a dance?
What do ya say?
I got some moves that I'd love to show ya
Let's find a spot and dance the night away…'

The men were drunk enough that Éponine's sultry voice and her slender hips slowly swaying to the tune in her old, tatty skinny jeans was enough to get them lusting.

'How 'bout a dance?
It's always fun
Come over here, let me get to know ya
Can't beat a band to get your spirits high… you look so handsome!

She could see it now, Marius smiling at her from the bar, eyes full of love, ready to take her away from the inn forever.

How 'bout a dance?
Let's make a start
Music like this can really throw ya
You'll lose the blues
And you may lose your heart

Tonight is the night I've been waiting for.
Even the moon looks just right.
I'm sure the crowd will make room on the floor.
When they see you look like you do.

So how 'bout a dance? Let's make a start.
Music like this can really throw ya.
You'll lose the blues, and you may lose your heart.

You'll lose the blues, and you may lose your heart.

The song ended and Éponine returned to the bar to cheers and wolf-whistles from the men around her. She smiled with gritted teeth and ignored their leering as they emptied their pockets for beers and watered-down spirits. They made the 100 euros and more, so she split the extra with Azelma and shut the bar. She might treat Gavroche to a pastry tomorrow when she took him to school.


Next chapter will actually feature Enjolras, I promise

I know it's quite long but I wanted to set the scene

Let me know what you think! :)