A/N: So, as of, like, last week, I've been a rabid Les Mis fangirl (yick) for reasons I don't even know. It's probably 'cause "Twilight" is making me mad and stuff.

Anyway, I wanted to write a new Les Mis-related fic, and the first thing that came to my mind was in the spirit of my advice columns (see "Ask Auntie Carlisle" (Twilight) and "Ask Auntie Roger" (Rent) on my and my friend's other pen-name, Jasper-and-Carlisle).

Volià, here it is. (Sorry if I get anything wrong or OOC, I have written Les Mis fics in, like, 2 years, I think. Maybe 3. Yeah). And, yes, laptops were invented, I have decided. And, yes, this will mirror the format of my other two advice columns. And sorry if this has already been done, I did not know.

And if you want your question featured on "Ask Auntie Enjolras", don't be shy! Message me, write it in a review, or email me! (my email is in my profile :) )

DISCLAIMER: I do not own teh Miz.

I sighed impatiently as I waited for my laptop to start. I read the note for the 40th time that day:

Dear M. Enjolras,

All of us unanimously felt that you should start an advice column. Tthe people we're fighting for, and maybe even others, could send you an email asking their pressing questions. And the person they should talk to, Fearless Leader, is you.

Signed,
Les Amis de l'ABC

PS: Oh, and Grantaire really wants to tell you something:
HI APOLLO!! IT'S R!! :)

I opened 'Internet Explorer' and signed onto my email account.

GOOD AFTERNOON, ENJOLRAS, YOU HAVE 1 NEW MESSAGE!

"Parfait," I muttered as I opened the email.

Dear Enjolras,

So, I was wondering who this 'Patria' girl was. I mean, like, is she your gf for life? 'cause if she is, that's mean, 'cause I'm sure I want you more. Please tell me!

--
I Loves You, Cupcake

"Oh, man, how do I answer this?!" I asked no one as I slammed my hand to my forehead. I've only been asked this question a million billion times.

Dear Cupcakes,

Hee… I like cupcakes! Anywho, Patria is not a person. Or a girl. Or alive.

'Patria' means 'fatherland' or 'country' in Latin. I love my country, thus I love Patria. There you go.

It took some time for the Amis to figure that out, though…

LE CAFÉ MUSAIN, -INSERT DATE HERE-

"So, like, last weekend, I took Musichetta out to dinner, and then the restaurant poisoned my food on purpose and then I got really sick and that's why I'm late today," Joly managed, adding a sniffle at the end.

"Likely story!" sneered Courfeyrac.

"No, really! Everyone's out to get me!" Joly said in defense.

"We know!"

"Guys, please. C'mon!" I attempted to break up the fight.

"Yeah. Listen to the Enjmeister," echoed Grantaire.

"Uhm… thanks, winecask. Anyway, last night I drew up some plans for—" I started.

"What'd you do last weekend, Enjypoo?" inquired Bossuet.

"Uhm… did you just call me 'Enjypoo'. Like, legit…?"

"Er… mehbe…"

"Yeah, Enj, what did you do?!" squealed Feuilly.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you…" I said.

"Mmk… like we're gonna believe that!" Feuilly retorted.

"What did you do with your girlfriend… Uh, Patrice? Beatrice? Rosalie? No, I think it was—" Jehan pondered.

"Patria!" remembered L'aigle de Meaux.

"Yeah! That one!"

"Aw, man, you shouldn't'a did that, mes amis," Combeferre warned.

"How. Many. Times. Do. I. Have. To. Tell. You. That. Patria. Is—" I began, but then Marius McLoserface waltzed through the door.

"Like, oh em ef gee be be que, guys! I am soooo sorry! I was walking down the street to come to the meeting here, but then these midgets came out of nowhere and I was like, 'Guys I gotta go meet my friends at the Musain!' and then they were like 'No, Marius, you gotta come with us, cracka.' And then they took me to this dark alley and then I got all scared and then—"

"You were with Cosette weren't you?" I reasoned.

"Mmmm… yeah. Say, how's Patria?" he asked innocently.

"WHAT IS WITH YOU GUYS?! DO YOU EVER LISTEN TO ME? I MEAN, LIKE SERIOUSLY! DOES ANYTHING I EVER SAY EVEN MAKE ITS WAY THROUGH THAT THICK SKULL OF YOURS? LIKE… guys?" I noticed that all of the Amis, even 'Ferre, had all cast their eyes downward towards the floor. Some of theme nervously tapped their feet.

"I just come to look at you, but you probably already knew that," admitted Grantaire, refilling his glass with more whiskey.

"Uhm… I need friends," Bahorel whispered softly.

"I need a place to go other than my apartment…" Jehan resigned.

"Yeah, me too. I mean, I do have the worst roommate ever…" Courfeyrac grinned evilly at Marius, who was on the verge of tears.

"Seriously. I knew about R, but the rest of you…" I shook my head, "Seriously? I always though y'all were better than this."

"Did you just say 'y'all'?" inquired teh 'Ferre.

"That's beside the point! Please tell me you're kidding!"

"Only if you tell us that you're kidding about your girlfriend Patria," proposed Feuilly.

"BUT PATRIA IS—"

"You have, like, the shortest temper ever," Joly noted.

Evil glare time. That always shuts them up.

"I will say this one more time, so all of you better listen! Patria does not exist in human form. Patria is a country. I love my country. I love Patria. C'est fini. Do. You. Understand?"

"OH! Like 'patr' means like country/patriot kinda thing, right?!" observed Courfeyrac.

"Sure. Just like that," I looked over to Combeferre if he knew where Courfeyrac was getting at, but the med student simply shrugged.

"Well, we really got a lot done tonight, didn't we?" Jehan said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door with Laigle and Bahorel at his heels.

"Wait, where are you going?" I was astonished. I glanced at the clock. We had only been here for 20 minutes!

"Sure did, Prouvaire," Feuilly began to leave too.

"What could we possibly have d—"

Joly interrupted me, "See ya around, Enj."

"Bye, 'Ferret!" Bossuet grinned as he followed Joly.

"Marius, let's go before the midgets get you again…" Courfeyrac hoisted the lovestricken lad out of his chair.

"Bye, guys," Marius waved as he and Courfeyrac left.

"Well, that's all of them," I looked at Combeferre.

"Bossuet called me a ferret…" he frowned.

"Oh, wait, R is still here," I leaned over to where the drunk was sitting, "Aren't you going to leave to?"

Grantaire hiccup, "Nah, Imma take a nap now, 'kay?"

Combeferre nodded somewhat approvingly, "All right, see you tomorrow, R."

R hiccupped in acknowledgement as 'Ferre and I left the Musain.

BACK TO THE LETTER!

So, wait, what was your name…? Hold up, I gotta scroll back up to the page.

Uh… Cupcakes. Yeah, 'cause I like cupcakes. Anyway, Cupcakes, I do not have a girlfriend. Or a girlfriend named Patria.

Therefore, I do believe that you want me. 'Cause everyone wants me, it just happens. Unfortunately, my dear Cupcakes, I do not think I want you.

--
Enjolras