She walked up the stairs, her head peering over the railing. He looked over to see who it was. Lub-dub went his heart. Oh god, he thought. It was her, Éponine. Marius's shadow. She had come to the café.
Enjolras never got distracted at a meeting. He put all his faith and trust into his beloved Patria and his work. He lived and breathed revolution. He lived and breathed liberty. It was all he seemed to know about. He remembered his first day arriving in Paris. He was only nineteen. Before finding an apartment, he decided to get aquanted with the city. He wanted to make friends, and the best place to do so was to hang out at a café. It was then that he found Le Café Musain. Le Café Musain was different back then. Less people. The only ones he very well remembered hanging around in le café were Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire, the boys who were soon to be his friends. They were a kooky group with only three things on their mind: revolution, drinks, and women; not necessarily in that order. Enjolras can recall the moment the three came over, most likely half-drunk, but he didn't care. "Oooo, who are you?" asked the dark haired, dark eyed Grantaire as he stumbled over to Enjolras. Courfeyrac and Combeferre followed suit. "Pardon R, monsieur. He doesn't know when to stop with the alcohol. I'm Combeferre. This man standing next to me is Courfeyrac and…I see you've met Grantaire." Combeferre apologized as Grantaire began to sniff Enjolras's curly blond hair. Enjolras tried to swat him away, but Grantaire was persistant. "Though I do quite agree with Grantaire's question, may I ask who you are? You don't seem familiar, then again I forget what my professors look like after being in their lectures for God knows how long." Courfeyrac said. Enjolras smiled. "I'm new here. I just came here from a small town outside Paris. I will be entering the University here. I'm on a scholarship…" "Oooo, a brainy boy! I love it!" Grantaire slurred. "Tell me, what do you think of revolution?" Courfeyrac and Combeferre inched closer to the bench in which Enjolras was sitting on, as if the words that would come out of his mouth would mean life or death. Enjolras sat up tall. "I say, if you stand for nothing, what's the point of living? I stand for this revolution. It's unfair that those less fortunate than us have to suffer. As American Thomas Jefferson once wrote, We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. If America can have these beliefs, surely we should too. I don't want to wait around and let the King rule us forever. If there is a revolution, I want in." Grantaire, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac cheered. "I like you kid! I knew you were one of us." Courfeyrac patted Enjolras on the back as he sat down next to him. The other boys plopped down next to him. "What's your name?" Combeferre asked. "Enjolras." Enjolras replied. "Sooo, Enjy…can I call you that? Do you drink?" Grantaire hiccupped. Enjolras chuckled. "Yes I do." "MADAME! FOUR MORE!" Grantaire half slurred half yelled across the room. A dark haired woman who seemed to be in her thirties, glared at him. "Yes, your majesty." She grumbled and brought over a bottle and four glasses. She slammed them on the table and mumbled a few curse words, then walked away. The four boys were silent. "Well isn't she precious?" Courfeyrac broke in. The boys laughed and pour their wine. As they were doing so, the very pretty women came into the café. Two had blond hair and one had light brown hair. Grantaire, Courfeyrac, and Combeferre began to whistle and call out to them. "Helllloooo, ladies!" "Lookin' for somethin' to do? Come on over and sit for a while." "Come on, madamoselles! Like what you see?" The three girls looked at each other and giggled. The brown head flirtted, "I don't think so. Not tonight, monsuires." The girls continued their fits of giggles. "Well, if you want a good time, you know where to find us." Courfeyrac said seductively. Enjolras rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Parisians." He thought. The boys tried everything to attract the ladies, from raising their glasses, to sending them kisses. One of the blonds bit her lip. "We'll let you know." The girls again broke into a fit of giggles and walked over to the madame who was waiting behind the counter. The three boys were checking the girls out as they walked away, while Enjolras paid no attention to them. Apparently that caught Grantaire's eye. "Not your types?" he asked as he took a sip of wine. Combeferre and Courfeyrac chuckled and followed suit. Enjolras shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just…I have no interest in women." Graintaire, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac all spat their wine out and into Enjolras's face. "WHAT?!" they all exclaimed as if what Enjolras said something worse than a swear word. As if the pits of hell just opened up, and was ready to consume them. Enjolras looked at each one of the boys. "I'm sorry, but it's true. I just have no interest. I came to Paris in hopes to start over. To create a new life for my country and for myself. At this time, women are just not high on my objective. I want to focus on this country before anything else. I hope to tell my story to my descendants, but for now my country is first." Combeferre grinned. "You are a man with priorities. Very well, mon ami. I support your decison." "I second it." Courfeyrac chimed in. Grantaire rolled his eyes. "I guess I third it." Enjolras smiled. "I'm sorry I talk too much. I've never had a group of friends before. I promise to make you all proud." The three boys smiled. "Let's get this guy in front of a crowd!" Combeferre exclaimed. All of them laughed. "To the revolution!" Enjolras exclaimed as he raised his glass. "TO THE REVOLUTION!" the others sang and raised their glasses.
Her head became more visible now. Her dark hair was tangled, knotted, and matted. Her skin was tan from the dirt of the streets. She had a skinny, hunger-pang frame, but what drew Enjolras to her was her eyes. She had the warmest color of brown for eyes that gleamed with intelligence. She was a diamond in the rough. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Enjolras's heart began to beat faster. It had been seven year since he told his friends about his choice of revolution over women. .Every other woman he met, he dismissed. So why was this one making him feel otherwise? How was it that this street beggar, who was madly in love with his good friend Marius, capturing his attention? He stared a little bit longer. Oh God. Oh my dear God. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. His heart was beating faster and faster by the minute. For a moment, all he could see was her. Éponine. Her face was beaten by the wear and tear of her life. Her lips seemed to be untouched by her life. Those beautiful lips that were perfect size. Not too small, not too big. Enjolras wanted to press those lips of her to his. He wanted to hold her skinny frame in his embrace. He wanted her. He wanted to let Éponine know that he was madly in love with her.
"Ponine!" called Enjolras's friend Marius. This shook Enjolras out of his daze. He had forgotten. It was June fourth. The next day would be the planned revolution. Earlier, Marius was talking about a girl he met on the street. A pretty blond who he described as "more beautiful than the angels in Heaven". Enjolras's friends, who now grew from three member to nine, had begun to snicker and taunt Marius about his "ghost girl". Enjolras tried to convince him to stop his romantic fantasies, but to no avail. Now he knew how Marius felt. What it felt like to be in love. "Ponine!" Marius called out again. Éponine looked over at him and smiled. This broke Enjolra's heart. Her smile. The only time he saw her smile was when she was with Marius. Her smile was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. His heart was beating so fast, he felt like it was going to burst. Marius jogged over to Éponine. "Did you find her?" he asked. Éponine nodded and began to walk down the stairs of the café. Marius looked at Enjolras for approval. He nodded. Marius smiled and followed Éponine down to where his love would be. "Enjolras, what do you think?" Combeferre asked from behind. Enjolras turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, what?" "The plans! The battle plans! What do you think?" Combeferre asked in an irritated tone. "Well, what do you think?" Enjolras asked. Combeferre looked upset. "You're the leader! You should decide!" "Yes, I know. But you're my right hand man. What would happen if I died in battle? Then you take charge. You must also make decisions." Enjolras patted Combeferre on the shoulder. "Now if you excuse me, I need some air." And Enjolras took off down the stairs. Have I gone mad? Enjolras asked himself. He wasn't going out for air. He was going to see her. He was going to see Éponine.