"So we struggle and we stagger
Down the snakes and up the ladder
To the tower where the blessed hours chime
And I swear it happened just like this
A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
The gates of love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since…"
- Closing Time by Leonard Cohen
Chapter One
A Crappy Little Life
Éponine Thenardier was just pouring milk onto her cereal when she heard the knock at the door. Confusion settled over her as she put the milk carton down, a little dribble of milk making its way down the side. She wiped her fingers on her trousers and crossed the room to the door.
She looked through the peephole on the door, wondering who on earth could be visiting at this time in the morning. It was eight o'clock, and her shift in the supermarket was going to start in forty-five minutes. Plus, she hadn't really had visitors in a few weeks, not since…
She saw her closest friend Musichetta staring up at the ceiling when she looked through the peephole. Her friend's face was distorted by the fisheye lens, but she knew it was her.
Sighing, Éponine slid back the bolts on the door and removed the security chain before finally opening the door. "It's early and I have to be at work soon," she grumbled, rather than saying hello.
"I know, but it's either this or I can come and pester you at work," Musichetta said cheerfully, stepping into the apartment. She jangled her car keys at Éponine. "I can give you a lift over."
"You don't have to," Éponine said. "I don't mind walking, it's just down the road." She shut the door and put the security chain back in place, before returning to the countertop where her cereal sat, getting softer by the second.
"I'm taking you to work," Musichetta said, flopping down onto the sofa and watching as Éponine fished in one of her drawers for a soon. "Because we need to talk."
Éponine looked up, slamming the drawer shut. "About what?" she said, keeping her voice light, even though she knew exactly what Musichetta wanted to talk to her about.
"Don't play stupid," Musichetta said, crossing her legs. She fluffed her light brown hair with one hand and jangled the keys again. "You haven't left your apartment except to go to work in nearly a month and it needs to stop."
"There's no need for me to leave," Éponine muttered, spooning cereal into her mouth. Yes, it had gone mushy already, she noticed with an internal wince. She dropped down onto the sofa next to her friend and put her feet up on the coffee table. "I work in the supermarket, so I can get my food from there. It's not like I have a social life."
Musichetta smacked her on the calf. Éponine's leg licked out on instinct and knocked a stack of DVDs onto the floor. She shot her friend a reproachful look and shovelled more cereal into her mouth.
"You do have a social life!" Musichetta pointed at Éponine with one of her keys. "And I won't hear otherwise. You know, the boys are really missing you down at the café –"
"I doubt it," Éponine said, stirring her milk.
"Why do you doubt it? You've barely spoken to them since you split up with Marius," Musichetta shot back.
"Yeah, thanks for reminding me about that," Éponine muttered, putting down her bowl and spoon with a clatter onto the coffee table.
"Oh, like you'd forgotten," her friend scoffed. "You, my dear, like to mope and wallow and complain about things so I know it's all you've been thinking about. Which is why I'm here."
Éponine drew her knees up to her chest. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Tough." Musichetta gestured, the keys fisted in her hand rattling. "Your world does not begin and end with Marius, Éponine. You need to get out of this stuffy apartment and carry on with your life. He has."
"I know he has!" Éponine glared at her friend. "I don't need reminding that he dumped me for Cosette fucking Fauchelevent!"
"She's a nice girl," Musichetta said, with a shrug. "There are worse people he could have left you for. But, that's besides the point. The point is you've retreated into your shell and…" She sat up in her seat, straining her neck to see the pile of DVDs that had fallen onto the floor. "You've been watching shitty romcoms, not tidying up and, knowing you, probably chain smoking. You need to get out of this apartment and see your friends."
"What friends?" Éponine wrinkled her nose. "Apart from you, I don't have any."
"You have the boys," Musichetta disagreed.
"They're Marius' friends," Éponine said. She had tried, after Marius had ended their relationship, to carry on seeing them at the Café Musain that they liked to frequent, but it hadn't worked out. She'd felt awkward considering Marius was always there, and wasn't it a bit weird to keep on seeing your ex-boyfriend's friends?
"Oh, 'Ponine." Musichetta reached out and put her hand over Éponine's. "That's not true. The boys really like you. They do. They miss you, I can tell. Every day they ask me where you are and whether you're in today. And can I just point out, they're angry at Marius for the way he treated you so don't go thinking they're on his side."
"That's…It's not that I think that," Éponine said slowly. "It's more…Like I said, they're his friends and sometimes that made me feel uncomfortable. Plus Marius was always there."
"He's not there so much now," Musichetta said.
Éponine didn't respond, but rested her cheek on her knees.
"He's actually been going there less and less," Musichetta continued. "And he's away tonight, actually, so he definitely won't be there and Cosette's never gone to the Musain without him, so…"
Musichetta gave her friend a little grin and did a little dance with her shoulders. Éponine wasn't really sure what that was supposed to indicate, so she just carried on staring at her.
"Éponine." Musichetta prodded her. "Will you come tonight? To the Musain?"
"What happens if I say no?" Éponine asked.
"You can say no if you like," Musichetta said slowly. "But I'd just knock you out and drag you there anyway, and I don't really fancy doing time for assault, so it'd be easier on both of us if you just met up with us all."
"How about I'll think about it?" Éponine suggested.
Musichetta pouted, but then grinned. "That's good enough for me," she said. "Because I've translated it as I'm definitely coming out tonight, Musichetta."
"It's not a definitely at all," Éponine objected.
"Now, are you going to eat the rest of that cereal?" Musichetta avoided catching Éponine's eye, and instead glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Because if we leave it any later than this before we leave you might be late for work."
"It's all gone mushy," Éponine said. "Just let me get my jacket…"
OOO
When Éponine met Marius Pontmercy for the first time, it had been raining.
It was also a Wednesday, was sometime after seven o'clock at night, and had been a very, very crap day as far as Éponine was concerned.
She had slept through her alarms that morning and was subsequently late for her shift in the grubby little backstreet café she used to work in. Then whilst she was at work, she spilt a strawberry milkshake down the front of her only good work shirt, dropped a plate of eggs and sausage on the floor and stood in it, dropped a cup of coffee onto a customer and forgot to place a wet floor sign out after mopping up one of these messes and, as a result of that, the café's owner slipped and fell.
After her boss had fallen, she was shouted at for about thirty minutes straight and fired. She had gone out the back of the café to find that someone had stolen her pushbike and she had to catch the bus. Then she hadn't had enough money on her to pay for her fare, so she'd had to walk into town. Once she'd reached the centre some guy had run up behind her and snatched her bag off her shoulder.
Marius had found her sat on the kerb, staring into space, after she'd cried harder than she'd cried in a few years. He'd walked past at first, but hadn't been able to keep on going. Instead, he crouched down beside her and said the words that would prove to be her undoing: "Is everything all right?"
She wasn't sure what had happened next – not completely. She remembered crying a bit more, wailing about all the things that had happened to her that day, and him just looking at her with warm, sympathetic eyes.
Then he reached down, took her by the hand, and led her to a nearby café where he bought her a coffee and a huge wedge of chocolate cake. They talked as she ate and drank, then he arranged her a taxi home. She took his number to arrange paying him back, and the rest, as they say, was history.
A month went by when they were just friends. They met up a lot, and he eventually introduced her to his friends. She brought Musichetta to the group, and Musichetta began to date Joly after only meeting him a couple of times. But that month passed and Éponine realised she'd developed feelings for Marius. It wasn't hard to see why – he was handsome, kind, and funny, and she felt safe around him.
It had been at their friend Bahorel's birthday party that they kissed for the first time. She wasn't sure who initiated the kiss first, her or him, but it didn't matter. For the first time, she was in a relationship with a good person. Someone who treated her like a human being instead of a plaything.
She was happy, so happy. She allowed herself to think of the future, something she didn't often do; she allowed herself to indulge in daydreams. She saw them moving in together, saw rings and white dresses and churches.
Looking back on that, she hated herself for thinking that way, for beginning to take it so seriously. She should have known that it would never go that way considering nothing in her life ever worked out in the long term.
She was brought crashing back down to earth when Cosette came back into her life.
She'd first met Cosette when she was Cosette Tholomyès, in a foster home, when they were both children. When they met again, she was now called Cosette Fauchelevent and they were both adults. She'd never liked Cosette when they lived together, and had hated her when she was adopted by a kindly and wealthy gentleman. Seeing her as an adult only made the hatred burn even more; Cosette grown into a lovely, beautiful young woman whose father paid for her apartment and her clothes and every fucking thing she wanted, whereas Éponine was barely scraping by.
They met each other by chance, when Cosette came into the supermarket Éponine had managed to get a job in and somehow, they both recognised each other. Éponine was immediately irritated by the other girl's too-chirpy nature, but found herself unable to turn down Cosette's offer of drinks that evening.
Éponine suggested the Café Musain, where Marius and his friends liked to hang out nearly every night, because it was her territory and where she felt the most comfortable. This was probably the biggest mistake she made, as she led Cosette right into Marius' path.
Two weeks went by, and Éponine could feel her relationship with Marius crumbling throughout that time. She wasn't particularly surprised when Marius told her he wanted to end things, but it was still like a dagger thrust into her chest. Then came the twist of the knife; the immediate confession that he was doing it because he loved Cosette.
Éponine had her suspicions from the way Marius looked and acted around Cosette, but she never expected him to say it out loud. Not to her face. Not as he broke up with her.
She was furious. She was furious with him, and she was furious with herself. She was angry with him for dumping her when she thought they were going somewhere, angry with him for being distracted by Cosette. And she was angry with herself for ever thinking that Marius was different to anyone else, angry with herself for daring to hope for anything better than her crappy little life.
OOO
Éponine stood outside the Café Musain, staring up at the sign with a resigned expression on her face. She kept one hand on the strap of her handbag, half considering flagging down another taxi and going straight back to her apartment and wallowing in a bowlful of ice cream and a glass of wine.
She swallowed. Could she do this? Could she go in there? She wasn't sure. She rocked back onto her heels, and began to turn away –
"Oh, no, don't you dare, Éponine Thenardier," a male voice called out. She recognised it instantly, and reluctantly turned to face the man that was walking towards her. It was Courfeyrac, cute and flirty with one of the biggest smiles she'd ever seen, walking with an easy gait down the pavement towards her.
"Hey," she said, hitching her bag up her shoulder. She felt silly. She'd even tried dressing up a little, to give herself confidence, but the lip-gloss she'd put on suddenly seemed to be sticking her lips together and her skirt seemed too short.
"Not seen you in a while," Courfeyrac continued, giving her a little pat on the shoulder. He reached out and put his hand on the door to the café. "Coming in?"
She found herself nodding, and was filled with trepidation as the door opened with its little chime. She followed him in, and was immediately enveloped in the smell of coffee. She couldn't have stopped the smile that came over her face even if she'd wanted to. During her relationship with Marius, this place had become a second home to her.
It was a smart, sophisticated little building with leather chairs, glass tables and cosy little booths. They served a range of different homemade cakes and pastries as well as their hot drinks, and were open until late. Éponine knew this was a favourite haunt of students, but really Marius and his friends were the only proper regulars it had.
In the basement of below the café was Corinth, a nightclub. Weekend gatherings in the café usually ended in the club drinking the night away, and as today was a Friday Éponine was seriously hoping that they'd be doing the same tonight.
Courfeyrac strode straight over to his group of friends, and Éponine followed behind him. Not everyone was there, she noticed; just Enjolras, Combeferre, Bossuet and Joly.
"Look who I found outside!" Courfeyrac boomed. "Éponine decided to leave her cave!"
Éponine shot him a glare as she dropped down onto one of the sofas the group was occupying.
There was a chorus of hellos from everyone but Enjolras, who was engrossed in writing something in one of his notebooks.
"Nice to see you again," Combeferre said, his eyes sparkling. "We were starting to think you'd never show up."
"You can thank Musichetta," Éponine shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck.
"So that's where she went this morning," Joly muttered, leaning back in his seat. "I wondered why she left so early."
"Yeah, well, she more or less threatened me," Éponine said. "So here I am."
"We've all missed you," Bossuet said, slapping her on the back in what was probably supposed to be a friendly way. He was a bit too heavy-handed, though, and nearly shoved her off her chair.
Combeferre's hand shot out and caught her by the elbow. "Easy," he murmured. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she said, giving him a small smile and adjusting how she was sat.
"Sorry, Éponine," Bossuet said, a little sheepish. "I, uh, was just trying –"
"It's fine." Éponine rooted in her handbag for her purse. Before extracting any money from its contents, she said, "What's happening tonight?"
"Same that happens every night," Courfeyrac chimed in, returning from purchasing himself a cup of coffee.
"Yeah, I know you'll all be hanging out here," Éponine said, slowly, "But –"
Before she could say anything, the door to the café burst open. More of their group burst in, chattering loudly. Even though she knew Marius was out of town, it was still a relief not to see his familiar figure amongst them. It was just Bahorel, Jehan, Feuilly and finally Grantaire.
She turned to face them, not really sure what to expect. But then Bahorel, Jehan and Grantaire were hugging her all at once and Feuilly was saying it was nice to see her.
"I wondered if you were dead," Grantaire said, keeping his arm around her. "You weren't answering my texts."
"My phone's playing up," Éponine said. "And, I've not been…well."
"Marius is a prick," Grantaire said, cheerfully. "I think we should celebrate tonight."
"Celebrate?" Éponine echoed. She kind of hoped that meant what she thought it meant.
"Yes." He grinned at her. "Celebrate your return to our fold after an extremely unfortunate and undeserved absence."
"Corinth?" she suggested, digging her elbow into Grantaire's side.
"You know me, Corinth is always a good idea," he shrugged. "Anyone else up for it?"
"Why not," Courfeyrac said. "I've got nothing else to do tonight."
Bahorel shrugged. "I'd just assumed we'd be going down there at some point tonight," he said.
"I think I'll give it a miss tonight, guys," Combeferre said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Any particular reason why?" Courfeyrac waggled his eyebrows and took a gulp of his coffee.
"Not particularly," Combeferre said, amused. "Apart from the fact your one night stand didn't know the meaning of the word quiet."
Courfeyrac smirked, unashamed. "Not sorry," he said, his voice almost singing.
"You never are," Combeferre said.
"I'll remember this when you finally bring a girl back to the flat," Courfeyrac said.
"Huh?" Éponine, who had been listening to this conversation, furrowed her brow in confusion. "Do you guys live together now?" The last she'd known, Courfeyrac had been living with Marius.
There was a moment of silence. Courfeyrac glanced at Combeferre, who was staring down at his lap.
"Well, uh, I felt awkward living with Marius," Courfeyrac said. "Because Cosette moved in."
Cosette moved in. Moved in. They'd been together a matter of weeks and he'd already asked Cosette to move in? Éponine had dated him for months and never got the same offer!
She could feel the way that everyone was looking at her – their pity was almost tangible.
She forced down the feelings of anger that had arisen with Courfeyrac's words and shrugged. She plastered a smile on her face and turned her body towards Grantaire.
"So," she said, aware that the cheer in her voice sounded false, even to her own ears, "When do the celebrations begin?"
There was no expression on Grantaire's face as he looked at her, and she was grateful for that. He leaned forward in his seat. "You know me, Éponine," he said, keeping his voice light. "Never need an excuse to start drinking. We can pre-drink at mine, if you want."
Éponine slung her handbag over her shoulder. "Then why are we still here?" she said, cocking her head to one side.
The corners of Grantaire's mouth quirked up. "Let's go, then," he said, getting to his feet. "We'll see the rest of you later, right?"
There was a chorus of acquiescence from the members of the group that would be joining them that night, and goodbyes from the rest; then together, Éponine and Grantaire left the Café Musain.
