He took another swig from his hip flask. He wasn't prone to drinking like this- he left Grantaire to that kind of thing- but tonight he would need it.
He stood outside the Ritz Carlton, waiting. His parents were in there, in some ballroom wining and dining constituents, his father putting on the mask of loving husband and dutiful public servant.
Enjolras knew better. His father was a rat, a parasite. The sheer amount of his greed and ambition would have been hilarious if it weren't so sickening. But that wasn't why he was here. He had abandoned that life long ago. He wasn't his parents son- hadn't been since he had moved out the day he turned 18. Years of pretending to be the 'good son' in front of the cameras when his father would yell and scream and hit him behind closed doors- he was out the first chance he got.
And he had thought that would be that. He was rid of them, started living his own life. He got a job and a shit apartment uptown, made friends and found a cause to fight for. But best of all, he had found Grantaire. Grantaire, who was a drunk and a cynic and talked a big game but at the end of the day he would still curl into Enjolras's arms and recite random verses of poetry until they drifted off to sleep.
Grantaire, who understood his need to have a cause, who understood that he belonged out there, fighting injustice and would follow him right up the front lines for a cause he didn't believe in just to stay by Enjolras's side.
And it was heaven. His life was hard, it was work, but it was bliss.
Then one day a week ago, he had met up with Courfeyrac to discuss an upcoming protest and found his friend oddly shifty.
"What's wrong, Courf? Come on- get it out now so we can get some work done."
The man had sighed. "It's just…I'm sorry man. I'm really sorry. He was-is just, so out of line-"
"Wait, what are you talking about?"
"Well- I mean…what your father said in that interview."
"What interview?" It had been a rushed morning, he hadn't had a chance to read the paper yet. Courf sighed and pulled up youtube on his laptop.
He typed in 'Mayor Augustin denounces son' into the search bar and Enjorlas's stomach clenched.
It was a news clip of his father, the caption below reading 'Mayor announces support of DOMA'. He was wearing a face of proud determination that turned ugly fast when a journalist asked, "But sir, what about these rumors about your son? There are people saying he left home for more than just 'political differences' as you have previously stated. Is it true that your son is gay and that is why you and he have never reconciled?"
"There has been no reconciliation as you put it Kathy because I no longer have a son. Enjolras left our family the day he left our household. And if these rumors of perversion are in fact true than that only clears my conscience further. I would never knowingly house a faggot in my household."
The journalists in front of him exploded with questions, the flash of pictures being taken rose to a single blur of white light, and the video cut off.
"Oh." Was all Enjolras had said when Courfeyrac looked at him expectantly. And that had been that.
Except that it hadn't. It ate away at for the rest of the day, and when he left Courf's apartment he found reporters on his doorstep waiting for him. He could barely separate one question from another as he pushed past them all blindly to get inside- he picked apart a few words though. Comment, father, rumors…faggot. When he finally got in Grantaire was waiting for him with a bottle of tequila and open arms. He cried for the first time since he was 14. When he finally stopped he knew what he had to do.
Which was what brought him here, waiting for a text from a hotel worker he had bribed to let him known when his parents arrived at the event, and where they would be. Security might be a challenge, but he was content to let the gin in his system to the worrying for him.
Grantaire didn't know he was here, didn't know what he was planning to do. He was at an art convention in Long Island right now. He had even managed to talk him into leaving his favorite hoodie behind while he was away. Enjolras was wearing it right now. Grantaire's love was the strongest armor he had, and if he had to go to battle, he needed every reminder of it he could get.
The text came, and Enjolras was in the building and up two flights of stairs before anyone seemed to notice. A moment later he was bursting into the ballroom, eyes finding his father in an instant.
"Hey dad!" He cried. "Look who's decided to drop in!" Even if he had to suffer through Grantaire's anger over this stunt, the look on his father's face was worth the whole endeavor. He turned pale as a ghost, arm frozen mid-handshake. For once the bastard was speechless. Silence fell over the crowd.
"Yep! It's me! Your son- you know, the one you spent four years beating senseless until he agreed to play nice at whatever dinner party or press conference you were having that week?" Gasps were heard at random corners of the large room.
"Oh, you guys didn't know that?" He addressed the crowd now, grinning as he saw a few raising phones to capture the moment. "No, no, you all thought is was 'political differences'. That's what you called it right dad? Well here's another little secret you might not have known. Not only did you have a faggot staying under your roof for 18 miserable years, you had faggots fucking under it too!" The Mayor dropped that champaign glass in his hand. The white was turning to red with alarming speed.
"Are you telling me…" His father choked out, "That you…"
"Fucked men while I lived with you? That's exactly what I'm telling you."
"You little shit!" The man spat and lunged for him with murder in his eyes. But security had arrived a few moments earlier to apprehend him now had to divert their focus to stopping the Mayor from strangling his son.
"Sorry dad. We don't play by those rules anymore. You don't get to hit me whenever I do something you don't like."
Strong arms grabbed him, but he wasn't about to miss this.
"Soak it in people! This is the man you voted for! This is the man you trust your city with! And I'm the man you forget about. The one who you so gleefully deny the right to marry the man he loves." His father made a choking noise. "Yeah you heard that right! The man I love! He makes me happy and for once- for once!- you can't take that happiness away from me." After that he let himself be dragged from the premises. He had said all he had needed to say.
The walk home was calming. His phone went off half way to his apartment. "You idiot." was the first thing he heard. "And hello to you to darling." He replied. "Did you really think that just because I was out of the state I wouldn't hear about it? It's the 21st century Apollo! Even uptight politicians have twitter accounts! I am literally watching a video of you in my hoodie- my hoodie Apollo? Really? Did you have to?"
"Are you mad?"
"About the hoodie? Not mad so much as shocked. I mean when you said you wanted it as a reminder of me I didn't think-"
"No not about the hoodie. About the whole thing." There was a pause.
"Why would I be mad? You got pissed and called out your abusive homophobic father! You're a fucking hero Enj!"
Enjolras smiled, and relaxed. "Good."
"Were you really worried about me being mad at you?" He asked.
"Your the only person who's opinion matters to me R." He said in a bit of a 'didn't you know that already I thought I had made it quite obvious' kind of tone.
"Oh…okay. Well, thanks."
"Welcome."
For a few moments he just walked, listening to his boyfriend breathing on the line.
"I love you too you know." He smiled.
"Yeah. I know."