Author's note: OK, is official. I LOVE Clopin. That is why I will give you this one, but I am NOT leaving my other fics. I'm not going to follow exactly the 1996 movie and I do agree with those who would love to have him more on the screen.

This one goes for good old Clopin, with elements of the musicals and myself. Enjoy!

Song is property of Simple Plan

1. Broken Helm

The bonfire, the stars, the music. For a young man this is the spot and for a gypsy is heaven on earth. He leans against the tree behind him and smiles watching the whole party around him. Everything is absolutely perfect.

Smack!

The young face of Esmeralda comes in sight. She is only four and yet, has the energy of a whole army. The poor youngster knows that when those green eyes beam, she is up to something and it often means leaving his peaceful thoughts behind.

"C'mon! Is time for Puppet!" Says the little girl. Oh, yes. His little show. He has forgot.

"I know, Esme, I know. Don't worry. We will have a very special story tonight." He gets up and takes out his little version of himself. "Isn't that right?"

"Aye. And the little ange will enjoy herself like no one before." The high pitched voice of the puppet makes her laugh. "You will, you will."

"Esme is always demanding stories, monsieur. I'm afraid we aren't worth it."

"Yes you are. Daddy told me why he calls you Clopin Trouillefou. Because you used to play a crippled beggar to get money."

"Esme dear. When you grow up, don't change." Kiss on the forehead. "Come along" They walk towards the centre of the feast where the young man has prepared a little scenario for his show. All the people he loves are there. His mother, father, friends, companions and among them, Esmeralda. His beloved black curly hair rascal. "Callou! Callay! Ladies and gentlemen. Madames et Monsieurs. Is time to start our favourite show!" Everyone applauds.

"Yes, MY show!" Puppet shows himself and they all laugh.

"What? It is my show not yours"

"Course is mine. Vous n´êtes que le marionnettiste!"Mumbles Puppet with his squeaky voice.

"Nonsense. I am the one who selects the story and you tell it."

"But that is no fun. Gitane avide et égoïste !"Deep frown and folds his arms.

"Talk, talk talk. Vous pouvez parler autant que vous voulez, je m'en fous !" The boy lets out a loud tsk and goes on with the show knowing everyone has enjoy his little argument with Puppet.

The story goes swift like the night and everyone enjoys themselves. Esmeralda dances and everyone around plays music, shouts and has fun.

The boy wonders if any of those girls will ever lie their eyes on him when he feels someone pulling from his pants. Is Esmeralda who looks pretty tired. He smiles and lifts her in his arms.

"What's the matter, petite ange? You want to sleep?"

"I want to dance with you"

"All right but then, you and I are going to bed." The young man lets her grab his waist and they dance to the music for a long while until her eyes begin to fall heavy. They both go to one of the empty caravans and rest while the party goes on.

Silence surrounds them until strange noises come to warn them. The party is no longer joy and happiness. The soldiers have come to raid the place. The young gypsy swallows and grabs the sleeping girl in his arms while he runs crying the names of his family and all his beloveds. Horror overcomes him when he sees all the bodies around the fire.

They are trapped.

He runs for it and dodges the corpses of the people around. The horses, the shouts, the blood. His head is a whirl until he hears a rider behind them. Pressing Esmeralda against his chest, he makes a desperate effort to get away.

They are not far from Paris. Perhaps there is a chance.

The black horse is getting closer and closer.

"Kyrieeleison…

Kyrieeleison…

Dies irae,

(Dies irae)

Dies illa,

(Dies illa)

Solvetsaeclem in favilla,

Teste David cum sibylla.

Quantustremor est futurus,

Quandoiudex est venturus.

Solvetsaeclum in favilla

(Dies irae)

Solvetsaeclum in favilla

Dies irae.

Solvet saeclum in favilla,

Dies irae,

Dies irae!

Kyrieeleison!

Kyrieeleison"

The ground suddenly disappears under his feet and he falls, and falls.

"I open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight

And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain

How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again

So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't

How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me."

When he wakes up, Esmeralda isn't in his arms. He panics but his head is all a blur. His memories are all foggy because of the pain and the sorrow. They are in a farmers house, not far from Paris.

The young man wonders. What is his name? Where is his family?

"Are you all right?" A woman covers his forehead with a wet cloth. "You have give us quite a scare. The girl is all right, don't worry. She is asleep". He sighs with relief. Esme is the only part of his soul that has not been shattered. And speaking of her, a stream of thoughts run through his skull. "So, what is your name?"

"My name…" He ponders over and over until he says "Clopin Trouillefou"

Hope is a good start.

I got the idea from the forum. What is Clopin´s real name?

More to come!

Next stop: Harlequin