Young Rose woke up, as the first rays of the winter sun tickled her pale, sleeping face. Still a little dizzy, she looked around and realized that she was at the court of miracles, a place she had been living at for the last couple of months. She turned around to see a bunch of raven hair laying beside her. Those belonged to her best friend, Esmeralda, who was still dreaming. She quietly got up and walked towards the big trove, where both girls kept the few dresses they owned. Esmeralda only had two: a dress with a white bodice, purple skirt and emerald green belt, complementing her gorgeous eyes, and a fiery red dress for special occasions. Most of the time, Rose wore a dress with a blood red bodice, a slightly lighter red skirt and red, transparent, black sleeves. Also, there was a red rose pattern on her bodice, the same color as her skirt. On special occasions she wore a teal dress, with a black bodice and a very low neckline. She put on her red dress and her single golden earring. The other one belonged to Esmeralda. Wearing it was a sign of their friendship. Rose closed her eyes, remembering how she met the young woman for the first time.

Weakly the starving girl walked down the high road. Finally she had been able to escape from her so called home and her horrible mother. She was tired, hungry, thirsty and in need of a bath but there was no place to go. Still, she thought, dying out here was better than living there, with her mother Colette de Vache, a horrible, abusive harpy. She had hated the girl from the moment she was born, for no other reason than her hair. Because her daughter had been born with fiery, red hair.

"Witch!" her mother had called her, all the time. The girl couldn't even remember her real name. Was is Ann? Jeanne? Who new. All she remembered was that life had been nicer when Grandmere had still been alive. After her death a year ago, the poor girl's life had turned into a living nightmare. But last night she had finally done it, she had gathered some of the more valuable things her mother possesed and ran. She didn't feel any guilt over the theft. Unfortunately, she ran into a bunch of crooks. They had taken everything but the clothes on her body, though they had considered taking them as well, for a different reason. But she had managed to escape.

Now, she was on her way to Paris, wearing nothing but a torn, hazelnut colored dress and a plain white bonnet to hide those red curls she was so ashamed of. How'd she be able to survive, to start a new life? Now that everything was gone. She suddenly stopped when she saw the city just in front of her. Suddenly she couldn't hold back her tears any longer and with a loud sob she sang to the ground, her face buried in her hands. It seemed like hours, when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" a gentle voice asked. The girl looked up and saw the most beautiful, emerald green eyes.

"I...I am...yes! Yes, I'm fine...I guess."

The other girl gave her a worrying look. "You seem hungry."

"Well, I..."

"Are you homeless?"

"Yes." the red-head admitted weakly.

"I've got some bread here." She took half a loaf out of the bag she carried. Then she gave some of it to the red-headed girl. "Please, take it. By the way, my name is Esmeralda."

"Thank you. I'd give you my name, but...I don't remember."

Esmeralda looked at her while she was eating. Then she said:" You'll need a new name."

"Of course, but..." Just as she bended forward, her bonnet fell of, revealing her almost waist long red hair.

Esmeralda looked at her in surprised, when she muttered a curst and fearfully looked at her.

"Please! I know what you're thinking, but I am not a-"

"Rose!" Esmeralda said.

"Huh?"

"I think it's a fitting name for you. Because of your beautiful red hair."

The red-head looked at her, completely puzzled how someone could think of these horrible strands as beautiful. "This...this is the first time someone compliments my hair..."

"Really? But it's so pretty." Esmeralda said with a smile.

"Alright...I think it's a lovely name. Yes, I think, maybe it suits me." Rose said, returning the smile.

"You are a beggar, aren't you?" Esmeralda asked. Roses nodded. "Then I know a perfect place for you to stay."

Since that day, their friendship had been growing fast and Rose couldn't imagine how life could be without her dear friend. Rose looked back at Esmeralda, smiling, before she went to the gate that would led her out of the court of miracles and to the graveyard. Suddenly she felt something gently pushing into her side.

"Djali!" she petted the cute goats head. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll soon be back with a bunch of coins to feed us tonight." The goat gave her a happy look before he ran back to his mistress.

"Rose!" the girl turned to see Clopin, the leader of the court of miracles. Rose remembered that he had been reluctant to accept her into their community. Most of the people here were Romani, or "Gypsy", as their were often called. The people of Paris and especially the Judge Frollo, treated them very poorly. While a few people who lifed at the court weren't Romani, most of them were and they were understandably distrustful of new arrivals. After all, for all they knew she could have been a spy or something. But after six months, people had gotten used to the red head. Meanwhile, Rose had gotten more comfortable with her hair, to the point that she had grown to love it.

"Rose, be careful. I know you haven't met him yet, but that Frollo could get you in huge trouble if you aren't careful. He always finds a reason to oppress people who don't fit his world view."

"Of course. I will. Bye!" she said before leaving, leaving him behind, shaking his head.

She quickly passed through the catacombs until she finally arrived outside on the graveyard. It was a bright but chilly morning in January. She made her way into the depths of the city, until she reached the place in front of the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Here was where she would sing for the citizen's to throw coins into her bag. Usually, Esmeralda was with her, dancing. But last night, she had come home fairly late and Rose decided to let her rest.

She laid down her beg, so people could throw coins inside, and sang a beautiful, french ballade. A small crowd gathered around her and Rose slowly started to dance along. Slowly and carefully, though, she wasn't as good as her friend. Just when she had reached the last high note of the song, she saw a soldier approaching. It was a tall, young man with dark, black curls and striking, green eyes. He approached her and the crowd quickly left.

"I don't think you've got permission to use this place, woman!" he sneered.

She grabbed her now full back and glared at him. "Nor do I need it!"

"Is that so? Well, we could go and ask Minister frollo what he thinks about that!"

The young woman merely crossed her arms, giving him a cheeky smirk. "Sure, go ahead. If you can catch me!" She said and faster than light she turned around and ran toward the cathedral. Finally there, she dragged the heavy front gate open, the voice of the soldierbehind her.

"Hey! Come back!"

But Rose slithered inside and closed the heavy door.