My first published fanfic:D I wrote it in May/June when the casting for the revival had been getting a little crazy! What would happen if the characters from Les Miz the book tried out for their parts in the musical!

The Many Woes of Being a Casting Director

"Now, as you know, the casting for the revival of Les Misérables has been a little crazy, with so many people leaving and joining, but we're always looking to add!" the casting director said cheerfully, coming out to greet the aspiring actors and actresses. "So, first, we have…Eponine Jondrette, is it?" she said, looking down to read the yellow legal pad and then glancing around the room

The shabby dark-haired girl stood up and shouted, "That's my name!"

Looking from her name on the sheet to the bony, bedraggled girl standing and looking about the room with wild eyes, the casting director sighed and led her into the audition room. "So, Miss Jondrette-" she began.

"Miss? Ha! No one ever calls me that!" Eponine cackled. "Well, sometimes, Monparnasse will, if he's trying to be nice to me. He wants to be a gentleman, you know. He dresses terribly nice with a flower in his button hole and all and-"

"Please, we're running short on time," the director broke in, with a cheery smile. "So what part do you want to audition for?"

"Well, I think I should be Eponine, you see, because that's my name and that's who I am and all. You know? With that little Gavroche brat as my brother, except Mama kicked him out because she doesn't like boys, She says that they smell and they make messes, but I don't think that's so because Marius doesn't smell or make messes, and sometimes even Gavroche is nice and will get me theater tickets. He's friends with the actors, except the seat are always by people who smell bad and-"

"Well, that's very interesting, but we have our audition to do. Did you bring anything to sing?" the woman asked, her cheery, red-lipstick smile growing pained.

Eponine Jondrette nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, I heard this one at one of the plays my brother took me to. My mama says I sing like an angel you know. All right, I'm going to sing- Oh wait," She started scratching her head violently for about fifteen seconds before looking back up. "It's the fleas. They are ever so annoying. I'm going to sing…now." And in a cracking rough voice, she sang, "Mon bras si dodu, Ma jambe bien faire, et le temps perdu."

"Well, no doubt that was very…unique," the casting director said carefully, "But I don't think we can hire you."

"What! Why not?" Eponine demanded.

"Well, you can't sing, you aren't pretty enough, you seem to belong in a mental institution and you have lice."

"But I AM Eponine!" she shrieked furiously.

"Do I need to call security?" the casting director threatened, feeling her toes clench together inside her posh leather high heels.

"The cognes?" she whispered in horror, and Eponine Jondrette fled. The casting director just noticed the girl hadn't been wearing any shoes.

"Thank goodness that's over with," she thought and looked back down the list.

"Euphrasie Faunchelvent?" the casting director called.

A pretty girl stepped in. She was dressed very nice, her hair was done perfectly, and the Hello she gave to the woman as she sat down was charming.

"Do you have something to sing?" the casting director, whom we shall call the CD from now on (it's annoying to type!), asked kindly. She had a better feeling about this girl than the last.

"Oh, yes," She smiled and straightened up, and just as her two perfect lips were opening so she could warble something lovely, two men burst in through the door. One was an old burly one, with hair perfectly white, and the other, a very handsome young man with dark hair.

"Cosette!" they cried with one voice. "Dearest Cosette! You are the one thing I care about in the world, and you want to go into theater where hundreds of people will be staring at you? Come back so that I can be over-protective and jealous of attention anyone tries to give you." Cosette froze and turned very pink, but luckily for her, the two men just noticed each other.

"Who are you?"

"I am her loving, over protective father!" the old man growled.

"I am her loving, over-protective stalker and future husband!" the younger man shouted.

The white-haired man lunged at the other and pinned him to the floor, while Cosette took the time to sneak out of the room.

"Hey! Knock it off!" CD screamed, making the men looked up. "Are you on the list?"

"Jean Valjean- uh, I mean Monsieur Madeleine, I mean. uh…uh"

"Monsieur LeBlanc?" put in the younger man.

"No! it's Urbain Faunchelevent."

"And you are trying out for…?"

"Jean Valjean. But I was wondering before I try out, if I make it, could we eliminate Bring Him Home?"

"Absolutely not!" CD said, looking horrified. "That's an absolute classic!"

"But that would mean I would be singing about how I want this horrible seducer of woman to live so that he can steal my Cosette from me? How could you expect a father to do that?" Urbain protested.

"Ugh, get out." CD said flatly. This was going to be a long day.

Urbain left, throwing dark glances over his enormous shoulder at the younger man, whom CD now turned to.

"What's your name?"

"Marius Pontmercy."

"What part to plan on trying out for?"

"Marius Pontmercy."

"All-righty, then. Now, do you know what this role entitles?"

"Yes, falling in love with Cosette," he said dreamily.

"Yes, but you are also Eponine and Enjolras' best friend, and you fight on the barricades," she reminded him.

"What?" Marius gasped. "Eponine? But she's...Ugh. She absolutely insane, and she smells terrible. And Enjolras? I haven't talked to him in a year at least…we had this disagreement about the republic versus the empire. And quite frankly, he scares me."

"No, no, in this musical, they are your best friends."

"What are you talking about? That's ridiculous. Besides, what about Courfeyrac?"

"That's a chorus part. No one cares about him," the casting director says with a laugh.

"That's outrageous! And I bet you even have Cosette and I kissing on stage, don't you?" he asked, standing up in a rare burst of true anger.

"Well-"

"Ooooh! You make me even angrier than my grandpa!" Marius stormed out.

"Oh, well," thought CD. She looked at the next name on her list. "Bahorel?"

In came a burly, young man with a nose that looked like it had been broken several times. "I'd like to try out for one of the Les Amis."

"Oh, which one?" she asked kindly.

"Bahorel."

CD looked over the cast list, and frowned. "I'm sorry, there isn't a part called Bahorel in this musical."

The young man rolled his eyes and walked out, tearing a few audition posters down on his way out and glaring at the security guard at the door.

"Next!" CD called out, after taking a few Aspirin pills out of her purse to help a sudden headache she was getting.

Now, a young woman came in with a shaved head. "Fantine," she mumbled, sitting down on a foldout chair and touching her hair in embarrassment.

"So what part would you like to try out for?" CD asked.

"Fantine. But any part would be a gift from God. I need to earn some extra money to support my poor baby girl who lives in New Jersey with some innkeepers. She's sick and they can't pay for the medicine," she moaned, still not moving her lips.

"Oh, that's so sad! Could you sing something for me now?" she asked, dabbing away tears from her eyes.

Fantine nodded, but as soon as she opened her mouth to sing, CD saw her nasty toothless and red gums.

"That's is disgusting!" she exclaimed, her nose wrinkling. "We can't put that on stage!"

Sadly, Fantine got to her feet and left.

"Next," CD called out, and a tall, menacing man with huge, bushy sideburns entered. "Are you trying out, sir?" CD asked wearily.

"No, but I noticed Jean Valjean walk out of here, and I am trying to catch him and return him to jail," he said, looking down on the seated CD haughtily.

"Well, I guess you would see a lot of Valjeans around here, as these are auditions for the Les Misérables revival," CD joked nervously.

"Les Misérables? The musical with song 'Stars' that makes Javert look like a religious freak?" he demanded furiously. "That has to be the worst musical ever," he snarled and stormed out.

CD let out a huge sigh of relief, but she look up and saw a huge swarm of what looked like barricade boys swarming at the door, screaming names like, "Enjolras" and 'Combeferre" and "Jehan! Not Jean!"

Grabbing a piece of paper, she scribbled. "Closed till 11:00 tomorrow" and taped it on the door, grabbed her purse and her coat, and bolted out the back door.

The End

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