AN: So, apparently, I still haven't gotten it out of my system. My other one-shot entitled "Leave" (Books) or "Leave and Let Go" (Plays/Musicals) didn't seem to satisfy my need to write this pair. Again, this is experimental. So, I'd really appreciate your thoughts/opinions of this story or of this pair. I really just want to write for To Dream a Dream but this has been overshadowing it for a while. Gosh, I don't know why I keep writing one-shots of a hurt Grantaire. I mean, I love the guy but somehow a broken and vulnerable Grantaire is so overwhelming to write. I blame most of this on George Blagden and his awesome yet heartbreaking cover of Leave from Once. I just can't stop listening to it. Not a day has gone by since I came upon it that I didn't watch it.

Anyway, I hope you like this. Tell me what you think by reviewing. I'd really appreciate them.

Disclaimer: I do not own this book/musical/film called Les Miserables and I certainly do not have the talent to write the song featured here.

"There he goes again." Combeferre commented as he watched Grantaire dash from the kitchen and lock himself in his room yet again. They could hear the faint strumming of his guitar as they stand in the living room they all shared.

"He's been locking himself up in his room for the whole week. And he's not even drinking. What gives?" Courfeyrac said. They have grown worried for their dear friend and roommate.

It was rather uncharacteristic of him to be acting the way that he did. For the past week, Grantaire was rarely seen by his friends and preferred the solitude of his room. And when he did get out, he was mostly seen scribbling notes on his sketchpad which he usually reserved for only his sketches or having whispered conversations with Jehan. When asked about Grantaire, Jehan would simply mime zipping his mouth or give them vague answers that sounded more like poetic riddles than anything else.

"Any thoughts, Enjolras?" Combeferre asked, "I assume you know what's going on."

"I'm sorry, gentlemen. But it seems that I too am sworn to secrecy." Enjolras said, not moving his eyes away from the book in his hands, "But there is no need to worry yourselves. Let him go about his ways."

"If you say so." Courfeyrac said as he stared at the closed door leading to his friend's room.

"This was quite a nice idea that you pitched, Ep." Joly said as he sat in one of the tables up front. They were currently situated in a little restaurant called "Patria's" where Eponine worked as a waitress and bar singer.

"Yeah, the number of people present is quite good for the business. I might just hire you as my marketing manager if ever I needed one." Feuilly said.

"And why exactly would you need one?" Bahorel asked.

"Hey, I did say if. You can never be too sure of what the future holds." He replied.

"Very well said." Jehan commented.

"I'm sorry we're late guys." Marius said as he and Cosette joined the group.

"Believe it or not you're actually not the last one to arrive, Marius." Bossuet said.

"Yeah, where is R? I've been trying to call him but he wouldn't pick up. Honestly, that guy has been getting me worried more than usual." Joly said, wearing his signature worried look.

"I'm sure he's heading this way, love." Musichetta said, trying to calm down her boyfriend.

"Hey, Courf. You're his roommate. Where is he anyway?" Bahorel asked.

"Hell would I know. He hasn't been in the apartment for the whole afternoon." Courfeyrac replied.

"Wait, didn't he tell you?" Eponine pondered.

"Tell us what?" Combeferre asked.

"Shush. It's about to start." Enjolras interjected. And true enough, Madame Girdeau, the owner of the restaurant was on the stage.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am glad you have joined us in our very first open mike night. We are giving the stage to a few performers who would like to showcase their talents this evening. I hope you would receive them with warm rounds of applause." She said. She then introduced the first performer who was going to play a piece on the piano.

Several performers have made their way on the stage but still, Grantaire was not present. Cosette was starting to fidget in her seat. She was growing quite panicked by her dearest friend's absence. She just couldn't help remembering the last time he had failed to answer her calls and her texts. She wouldn't forgive herself if anything was to happen to Grantaire again.

"Cosette, what's wrong?" Marius asked, concern etched all over his face. He had noticed the discomfort of his girlfriend as she kept on glancing at her phone from time to time.

"I'm sorry, Marius. It's just that Grantaire's still not here and he's not answering any of my calls and texts. I'm just worried." She said.

"I'm sure he's fine. You know how he is." He tried to reassure her.

"But he's been acting strange this whole week and I've been getting the feeling that he's been avoiding me for some reason."

"I'm sure he has his reasons. But R will be fine. I'm sure. And he's been avoiding everyone, not just you. So don't go on and blame yourself, okay?" he said as he squeezed her hand. She gave him a smile and nodded at him. Marius always seemed to know what to say or do whenever she found herself to be a bit upset or worried.

She was just about to send another message to Grantaire asking whether he was fine and telling him that they would still be in the restaurant waiting for him, when he climbed on stage.

Unlike all the other performers who had dressed up for the occasion, Grantaire was just wearing his normal set of clothes. He had a pair of jeans on and a long-sleeved blue plaid button-up shirt. The only thing out of the ordinary was the guitar that was hanging from his shoulder. He tapped the microphone a couple of times before he grumbled, "Oh, God. I should've drank more for this." Which earned him a few chuckles from the crowd.

"So, blah, blah, blah, my name's Grantaire. Something, something. And uh, I guess I'll be singing a song that I wrote. I don't care if it sounds like shit. I needed to get it out of my system. You know, like alcohol. God, I need some booze right now." He was about to walk off stage and get himself a shot, or rather a whole bottle when Madame Girdeau shook her head disapprovingly and gestured to the microphone.

"Ugh, fine. Maybe after then." He said.

He began to strum the rhythm of the song. Combeferre and Courfeyrac both recognized it as the song he's been playing in his room.

"Isn't that –" Courfeyrac began but he was soon silenced by his friends who were staring at Grantaire. But Grantaire didn't look at any of them. He had his eyes set on a particular blonde girl who was also staring into his eyes.

"I can't wait forever is all that you said before you stood up." He sang, his voice resonating in the silent restaurant. He's got the whole audience captivated. But he didn't care. He just looked straight into a pair of blue eyes as he sang the rest of the lyrics, "And you won't disappoint me. I can do that myself. But I'm glad that you've come. Now, if you don't mind…leave…leave. And free yourself at the same time…leave…leave. I don't understand. You've already gone."

Somehow, Cosette could feel the emotion behind that last line he sang and it just hurt her to see him hurting.

"I hope you feel better now that it's out. What took you so long? And the truth has a habit of falling out of your mouth. Well, now that it's come if you don't mind…leave…leave. And please yourself at the same time…leave…leave." The song was getting sadder and more heartbreaking as he sung.

"Let go of my hand. You said what you had to. Now…leave…leave. Let go of my hand. You said what you came to. Now…leave….leave. Oh, oh, leave…leave. Let go of my hand. You said what you have to. Now…leave…leave…" he was practically screaming the last part but it didn't matter since he was still able to hit the high notes quite well. But as he sung the last part you could almost hear his voice break, or was that his heart? As Cosette listened to him and stared into his eyes she could just see the pain behind them. She could just feel the tears that were ready to spill from his eyes only to notice that a tear had fallen from hers instead. She quickly wiped it away before anyone could notice. But Grantaire saw it as he finished his song up.

There was silence at first followed by a loud round of applause that soon became a standing ovation.

"Now, where's my booze?" he asked, still talking through the microphone. He stumbled his way down the stage and joined his friends. He quickly grabbed the drink that was in Feuilly's hand and downed it in an instant.

"Well, that was something." Eponine said.

"If that's your pathetic attempt at a compliment then thanks." He replied.

"It is. You did great, R." she said.

"Damn right, I did." He said.

"So, that was what you were up to the whole week. I didn't know you were quite the composer." Courfeyrac said.

"As I've recently learned from our resident poet, art and poetry aren't that much different. To make both work, you'd have to have a muse." As he said the last part he glanced at Cosette but no one seemed to notice where his eyes went.

The rest of the evening passed and soon it was time for them to leave. Cosette stayed silent the whole night. Her mind couldn't think of anything else but Grantaire's performance. She was so out of it that she didn't notice that she had left her bag at the table. She quickly excused herself to retrieve it. Marius was about to accompany her when she told him that it was fine and that she could easily catch up with them.

As she reached the table a familiar figure walked out of the men's room.

"Hi." She said, not knowing what else to say.

"So, did you like my song?" he asked.

"I don't know what to say."

"Then make no sound." He said, grinning at her. But it almost felt sad.

"R." she called out.

"You know, I never did get around to congratulate you on the ring. It looks great on you and I bet you'll look even greater in a pretty white dress. But you always look pretty. I'm happy for you, 'Sette."

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't lie to me."

"I'm not lying. I'll always be happy if you're happy."

"But how can I be happy if my best friend's hurting inside?" she almost screamed. No one else was around so it was fine.

"Don't worry, 'Sette. I'm used to it. In fact, it's probably the only way I know how to feel."

"Don't joke like that."

"You know that I'll get over it. I always do. You just go and worry about your wedding, okay? Come on, smile for me." He said. She was silent. He felt that the conversation was over so he made his way out the door but her voice stopped him.

"I now know what to say." she said. He turned around and faced her, waiting for her to speak, "I'm not going to leave." She said. He almost looked sad as he approached her.

"But you have to." He said, the sadness clear in his eyes.

"I'm not going to push you away, R. I'll always be here." She said, tears were threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I know. I know. That's why I'll have to push you away, instead."

"Why?" she asked as a tear slipped away.

"Because I have to." He said, his voice breaking.

"That's not enough to throw it all away, R. I still need you. I need my best friend." she said. The tears were now fully cascading from her eyes.

"I know. That's why it's so hard for me to do this. It's not easy to break your own heart, you know." He said, trying to joke.

"Then don't. Why do you have to let yourself go through so much pain? I won't let you slip into that pit again."

"It's hard to explain but you just have to believe me in this. I need you to do this. I need you to leave." He said. He was cupping her face in his hands and staring straight into her tear-filled eyes. He tried to wipe away her tears with his hand. He also felt like crying but he had to be strong. He had to keep it in but at the same time let it go. Let her go. He didn't want her to leave his life. In fact, he'd rather she stay forever. But it had to be done. He had to keep away for his heart to truly heal.

She finally stared back into his eyes. She saw the seriousness behind them. They were practically begging her to follow what he says. And that was what made her understand.

"I will always love you, R." she said. He smiled.

"But only as a friend." he said sadly.

"Don't say only because you mean so much more to me than just 'only a friend'. You're irreplaceable. You'll always be my best friend. And I love you." she said.

"And you'll always be my muse." He said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. He let go of her face and watched as she walked out the door, walked out of his life.

As he stood there all alone, there was only one thing that went through his mind.

She left.

AN: I hope you cried, suckers. But seriously, this was meant to be sad so I hope I got a good reaction from you guys. Tell me all about it i your review.