Ballerinas and Barricades

It was a dreary, dark kind of day. The kind of day where the sun was not even visible behind the wall of clouds that barricaded the sky. The kind of day where it seemed as though the sky would pour rain upon every innocent head yet didn't until they had a large load of groceries in paper bags or an uncovered Prom dress. It was the kind of day that was humid and wet until the wind blew by and took your essay with it for a dip in a mud puddle.

In other words, today was completely opposite Marius's mood.

The excited fifteen-year-old bounced up and down in his seat, causing a horrid squeaking of his jean buttons against the material of the car seats. It must have been very annoying, because this wasn't the first time that his grandfather had turned sharply and hushed the blithering idiot his dying son had created. God bless, Marius was like a damn three-year-old sometimes.

"Marius Azeia Pontmercy!" his grandfather snapped, turning his head to glare at the boy through the rear-view mirror.

Marius's eyes shot wide in fear and he settled. The teen looked down in shame, but let his gaze go upward and watch his grandfather's eyes. When he noticed the elderly man was still glaring at him, he sat back up and cocked his head.

"What is it, grandfather?" he asked in innocence. However, with the look his grandfather gave him, he could have just murdered David Tennent.

"It's you!" said the man. "You're jumping around back there like a crab's nipping at your balls!"

"Granddad, that's disgusting…"

"It doesn't matter if it's disgusting! You're being fecking annoying!" his grandfather yelled.

Marius threw his hands up in defence. "Well, what do you want me to do?" he squealed.

"Stop! Bloody stop, you damned eejit!" the elder groaned. "Just. Stop."

"Fine…"

Five seconds later… squeak squeak squeak…

"God dammit, Marius, I will turn this car around right now!"

"That would be a waste of time, Granddad. All that driving for nothing."

Contrary to his grandfather's belief, Marius really wasn't a bad kid, and he definitely wasn't any dunce… Okay, so the light bulb wasn't always on up there, but he truly was a bright young lad. He had nothing but B's and A's in all his classes, regularly contributed through community service on his own will, but it was what he did in the ballroom that made Marius such a genius in reality. Marius Azeia Pontmercy was a universally known and award winning dancer and his talents lay most strongly within a waltz or a tango, but that did not limit him, and people had words to say of his expertise in ballet.

Of course, his grandfather (or entire family for that matter) did not think of this as such an accomplishment. In their eyes, every young person should know how to dance as well as Marius from age three, but that did not mean they would give the talented boy any sort of recognition. Besides, his parents were too consumed with the fact that he may be a dancer instead of a lawyer. Marius was also assured that they were betting on his coming out any day now.

Being accepted into the l'ABC Dance Troupe at Rue Plumet Academy of the Arts was the most fantastic moment of Marius's life. He remembered it like it was yesterday, even though it had actually happened about three months ago. A couple weeks after his recital with his old dance school, he had received a letter from Rue Plumet, and after he read it for the tenth time to assure he wasn't dreaming, the teen had screeched so loud that his mother's favourite wine glass broke. For a split second, Marius was afraid he wouldn't be able to go because they were spending so much money to try to reverse his father's critical condition, but he then read that he was provided with a full scholarship, which provoked another shriek of joy.

Now, today, September 1st, he was starting at the school two months late.

When they pulled up to the academy, Marius took in the humble school with affection and admiration, while his grandfather just scoffed at how simple the place was. Truth be told, it was no Buckingham Palace, but the dormitories were small houses that lined up next to each other on a cobblestone street, and the school building sat at the end in the middle of them like it was the Disney castle or something. Each dorm home was decorated depending on who was inside. Some houses had masks on the front for acting, while others had instruments or musical notes. Still, others had paintbrushes or computers or tap shoes or sowing kits.

The students walked up and down the cobblestone while some road bikes. In the middle of the campus was a large square with a fountain in the centre. It was a three way intersection, on road leading to the front gates, one to the school building, one to what looked like a performance hall, and another to the activities area. On each corner was a different building; one corner had a worn looking café called the Musain, another had a park, another had a clothing shop, and the last one had a supplies store.

When they had driven up to the school, a relaxed looking man and a young girl were standing there waiting for them. Marius stepped out and a pair of girls ran over, offering to help with bags. His grandfather asked if they were attendees and they replied that they were simply students.

"Nice to meet you, M. Pontmercy," said the man as he stuck out his hand to Marius's grandfather.

"And the same to you, Monsieur," his grandfather replied.

Marius was helping the two girls get his trunk and cargo bag from the car when a boy with chopped hair ran up and handed him a flyer. "Hey, new kid," he greeted. "We're having a concert out here tonight! You should come meet everybody."

Marius took the flyer and looked it over, a stupid grin spreading across his face. "Seems fun! Will do!" he said. "I'm Marius. Dance."

"Bjorn. Martial Arts and Show Combat," the other boy said. "Listen, I have to go hand out more flyers, but I hope to see you there tonight. And good luck!"

Just then, his grandfather came up around him and yanked the colourful flyer from his fingers. The old man read it over, the look of disgust on his face becoming more prominent with every sentence. "Come meet everybody? Be friends with the entire campus?" the man gasped. "Bleeding impossible!"

"Granddad, you must remember this school only has one hundred and fifty students," Marius muttered, taking the flyer back.

The other man cleared his throat and motioned to the girl (the others had politely gotten his dorm number and taken his trunk for him on their golf cart) at his side. She nodded and stepped forward. "I'm Éponine," she said, sticking out her hand and giving him a firm shake. "I'll be giving you the tour because M. Valjean has a class to teach."

"Alright…"

Marius turned toward his grandfather. He licked his lips nervously. "I'll be seeing you, then," he mumbled.

"Stay out of trouble," his grandfather said warmly, patting the boy on the shoulder and getting back in the car.

"Well," said Éponine awkwardly. "Let's be off, shall we? See you M. Valjean… Come, Marius…"

"How do you know my name?' he asked as they made their way up the stairs to the building.

"Everyone's been talking about you for the past two months!" she exclaimed. "We were so excited to have a new dancer added to the troupe. We thought we may have to drop out of competition this year because Cosette lost her dance partner."

"Cosette?" Marius questioned. "I'll be dancing with her, yes?"

"Yes," Éponine said. "Wow, Marius…"

"What?"

"Your eyes," she muttered.

"My eyes?" he parroted.

The girl blushed and looked down. "They're very lovely…"

"Oh, well thanks," came Marius.

The pair walked down a long spiral staircase and the mixed sounds of a dozen different songs beat against Marius's eardrum. As they walked down the hall, he noticed the hilarious combination of concert posters, recital photos, defaced inspirational quotes, candid pictures, and crayon drawings that covered the walls. It took him a second to remember that some of these kids had been there since kindergarten. An extreme case of low self-image hit him like a rock, and he became very nervous as Éponine pushed open the door that said "STUDIOS" in big letters.

"Right now only the troupe members are practicing,' Éponine explained. "We get six hours a day to practice without the other students butting in – unless me want them in."

"Six hours… That's good… Enough time for my three classes," Marius sighed in relief. He had been so nervous that he wouldn't be able to fit in the three classes he was still required to take daily.

"Yes, it is enough time. And we don't have to use our hours, they're just provided, seeing as we have more shows than the others," she said. They passed the first studio and Marius saw two men practicing step-two-threes in pairs of worn gillies. One had curly hair and a black wife beater with "JIG PRIDE" written in green cross the back, and the second teen was sporting a pair of glasses that seemed to be falling off his nose. "That's Courfeyrac and Combeferre. They're Irish step dancers."

The second studio across the hall was blaring loud hip-hop, and inside was a middle-school aged girl with hair like Éponine's in a pair of booty shorts and sneakers, and at her side was a man Marius's age in sweatpants and tennis shoes. Éponine stuck her head in and yelled over the music, "Azelma! Bahorel! I'll be back for practise when I'm done showing new guy around!"

Azelma nodded and they walked to the third studio while Éponine explained that she and her sister, Azelma, did street dance with some beefcake named Bahorel. Inside the third studio was two shirtless boys dulling knives while a girl beside them pulled her leg over her head in a scorpion stretch. Marius nervously turned to Éponine for an explanation, and she laughed.

"The one with the bandages around his arms and chest is Lesgle. Joly is the boy who keeps blowing his hair out of his eyes. Musichetta is the girl."

"And the knives…?"

"They're lyrical," she said. "Like, their dancing tells a story. Come along now."

Still confused, Marius followed. Knives in dance must be very hard to deal with. He would need to ask them trio how exactly that worked out without death and injury happening. But then, that Lesgle kid had bandages all over his body while the others looked completely untouched.

"They're gorgeous!" Marius gasped. He was looking inside a ballet studio with two males in ballet shirts and tights. They both had skinny, feminine bodies and warm smiles that made Marius gush. One of them had strawberry blond curls with flowers wove into almost each twist of hair. The second had curls as well, and a wristband that portrayed the flag of Poland. Marius wondered if he was Polish.

"He's not," Éponine muttered, gaining back his attention. "Feuilly just reeeeeally likes Poland. More than Enjolras loves France."

Marius snorted. "So Feuilly and flower child are ballet, yes?"

"You got it!" she exclaimed, punching his shoulder jokingly, but the boy grabbed it in pain. "You're smart…"

"Thank you…" He blushed. "Any more?"

"Yes! My brothers are in tap! Oh, you'll love them! They're working on a piece from The Boy from Oz!" Éponine grinned and took his arm, dragging him down a crook in the hall to another studio with four adorable little boys that practically made Marius's heart melt.

Éponine opened the door and waved to them. The boy in front, this one with dirty blond hair, pressed a remote and the music stopped. Marius recognized the piece from Newsies well. "'Ponine!" the little boy whined, the other three crossing their arms in annoyance.

"Gav!" she hissed in mock, swaggering over and messing up his long strands of hair more than they already were. The other boys pulled him back as they all wretched.

"Ew! Cooties! 'Ponine gave you cooties, Gavroche!" squealed the little boy with a baseball hat and a buzz cut Mohawk.

"I know, Marzi!' Gavroche spat. "Henri! Get me a wipe!"

The boy who looked exactly like Marzi shook his head. "Sebastian used 'em all, Gav."

Gavroche glared at the smallest child. The skinny kid looked down if he was going to cry, but Gav picked up his chin and shook his head. "Don't cry, Sebastian, y'didn't do anythin' wrong!"

Sebastian wiped his teary eyes and nodded. Éponine was giggling softly and hanging onto Marius's arm. "Yeah, so these cuties are tap," she told him. "They're some of the youngest students here."

"This school goes to…?"

"First grade to twelfth."

"Right… Well, is that all?" Marius walked out of the boys' studio as to not disrupt them further.

Éponine shook her head. "Oh, no! We still need to show you Enjolras and R, then of course you need to meet Cosette."

"Sounds like a plan!" He smiled and looked at her. "May I call you 'Ponine, too?"

She blushed brightly. "If you wish, I don't see why not."

"Great, because I like it. 'Ponine definitely suits you," he said.

"Wow…" Éponine mumbled, biting her lip and turning a shade of red to rival the highlights of Marius's hair.

Unfortunately, the girl didn't notice when she walked face first into the door of the next to last studio. A teen inside made to jump off his pole, but his partner pointed a threatening finger, and he stuck out his tongue before sprinting over and helping Éponine up because Marius was too dumbstruck to do a damn thing.

"Nice work, dumbass," the guy (who, by the way, had the most attractive mop of brown curls on his head with a pair of sleepy eyes) laughed, looking over Éponine. "What got you distracted?"

He looked up at Marius.

"Oh, so new guy hot buns…"

Marius cocked his head and sputtered a bit. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm just joshing you," he said. "Hey, I'm Grantaire. Just call me R."

"Right, because Grantaire is like Grand R… Gran… taire… Gran… ar… Grand… R…" Marius mumbled, getting quieter and less enthusiastic as he spoke.

"Yes, genius…"

Éponine struck him on the cheek. "Don't be rude! Marius is saving this troupe!" she squeaked.

"I know that," sighed R. "He's gonna be with the Blond Bubbles and Beauty herself."

"Galinda?" asked Marius.

The look he got was damn comical.

From behind Grantaire came a teen the same size as Marius and R, except he looked like a god with his flowing hair and chiselled features that just spoke power. R gulped and gazed at his companion, a look of admiration occupying his face. The blond stuck out his hand sharply.

"Enjolras. Pole Dancer."

Marius snorted a bit, but shook the other student's hand. Enjolras was not amused.

"Exactly what is wrong with that?" he asked, taken aback.

"No!" Marius gasped. "No! I mean… It's just… They – people – typically associate pole dancing with… you know…"

"Yeah, strippers. Lovely Ladies. We know," Enjolras snapped.

Grantaire stood and put a hesitant hand on his partner's shoulder. "Calm down, Apollo," he muttered. "He didn't mean any offense."

"He still said it."

"Yes… I know… Go back inside and work on the mount, I'll be back in a second," said R.

Enjolras pursed his lips but agreed, and he walked over to his pole. He wrapped his hands around the base and bounced a bit on his toes before jumping up and wrapping his knees around it and pulling himself up so that he was hanging upside-down with feet and hands on pole and nothing else. Marius was extremely impressed.

"I'm sorry about him," R apologised. "He's kind of an activist and doesn't like the injustice something he and many other people love, yada yada yada… I only started pole dancing because I thought it'd be funny and ironic. It's actually really fun. Plus, I get to be with Apollo all day…"

Marius raised an eyebrow. "Apollo?"

"My nickname for him," R explained.

Éponine smiled softly and took Marius's arm again. "Well, you better get in there before the sun god burns your arse."

Grantaire gave her a salute and a kiss on the cheek before running back inside his studio and jumping onto his pole.

"Are they a thing?' Marius blurted, turning a dark red.

"No," she sighed sadly. "But R wants it. He's wild over Enjolras, and of course Orestes over there is completely oblivious to anything that isn't dance or protests."

"Poor guy…" he gasped. "Unrequited love must suck…"

"I think I can relate…" Éponine murmured. "Here, you can meet –"

"Cosette…"

Cosette was the epitome of beauty. She had gorgeous blond hair that she tied back and flung over her shoulder, and the way it framed her face made those pink lips and blue eyes pop out in the best way. And her smile sent goose bumps up Marius's spine. She was bouncing around the room, practicing the Jitterbug with an invisible partner. With an unexplainable dose of courage, Marius sprinted inside and took her upheld hands, surprising the girl but not enough that she stopped dancing (only enough that she missed a beat). He spread his legs and let her slide through against the floor, then pulled her up and threw her up, catching her by the waist and expertly flipping her around his shoulders. The music stopped as they both pointed their toes back.

Panting, Marius choked out, "Hey… My name is Marius… Pontmercy…"

"And… mine's Cosette," she replied. "New guy?"

"That would be me," he answered. "Dance partner?"

"You got it, love," Cosette assured, finally letting go of his hands and fixing her hair. "So nice to meet you!"

"Likewise…"

Hot damn she was perfect. Marius didn't know a thing about her and was already hooked. Was that shallow? Probably. He would definitely have to get to know her first to avoid looking shallow. It's just… he knew that she had to be something close to perfection.

And the way she looked at him… it's like they were thinking the same thing. Éponine threw up in her mouth a little. These two perfectly gorgeous human beings were probably going to roll in the hay and make perfect strawberry blond babies that grow up to be the first president in space or cure cancer with the help of a dinosaur. And they were going to be happy and perfect unlike Éponine who was obviously very imperfect and unhappy. Plus, she had already fallen in love with Marius. Then there was the fact that Cosette was her best friend in the entire world besides R, and she thought that she looked flat out adorable with Marius. Grand…

"So, are you going to be at that concert thing tonight?" Marius asked, completely oblivious to Éponine at the door.

Cosette nodded and rested her hand on his forearm. "You mean the rally?" she said sweetly. "Yes, I plan to go. Everyone's going. All 150 students. Plus some of the students from the academy next door."

"Javert Home of Achievers, right?"

"That's what they call it, of course everyone here calls it Javert Home of Arseholes," said Cosette crossly. "That's what happened to my last partner. And Eponine's last boyfriend. Montparnasse transferred before our last competition and we had to forfeit to Javert's. Papa was so upset…"

"You're head of dance and theatre's daughter, am I right?" Marius asked.

"Yes…" Cosette grew upset. "He was my godfather before my mother died when I was eight."

Marius frowned and mentally kicked himself. "I'm sorry I brought it up…"

"It's fine," she assured, squeezing his arm. "I should go, Marius, I have to finish my homework and Papa will take off three hours if I don't get a B in ELA."

"Bye, then…" Marius sighed. He was sure he'd screwed everything up.

"See you. Save me a dance." Cosette grinned that stunning smile and leaned up, planting a kiss on his cheek that made his entire body mimic a freckled tomato. She then sashayed out of the room, hugging Éponine before leaving.

If anything was a fact, it was that Éponine and Marius were both pretty screwed.