It was a late night that was turning out to be like many others that had come before it, and to say that Courfeyrac and Combeferre were getting tired of it was a large understatement. Like many other nights hanging out at what had been their favorite bar in the end Aaron Enjolras was taking out his frustration, anger and hurt on his guitar.
"At least he's playing again, that's got to be a good sign," Courfeyrac sighed as he drank his beer.
"I dunno anymore," Combeferre adjusted his glasses as he watched Enjolras sing in the middle of the bar. The music was slightly jarring to the ear but not completely unpleasant, but it wasn't beautiful either. He came to a halt and gripped the neck of the guitar tightly in his hands and he stared at it. Slowly he raised it with his expression what appeared to be anger deepening. It appeared that he just might smash it in the tile floor.
Combeferre's eyes widened, he never thought that it would come to that, Enjolras loved his guitar to much, he was about to get up and stop him when.
"Stop!" Came a small accented voice from the corner of the bar.
Slowly Enjolras looked that direction, put his guitar in case and seemed as if he was going to walk off.
"You just going to leave it 'der?" A small girl with brown hair spoke up again, "was it not expensive?" She had a peculiar accent, she was most definitely not from Ireland.
"Why do you care?" Enjolras asked.
The girl shrugged her shoulders, "it seems a shame, to destroy that music-"
"Are you hearing what I'm hearing?" Courfeyrac grinned as he whispered to Combeferre, "hell of an accent."
"I wonder who she is... I've never seen her around here before," Combeferre knit his brows together.
"It's not like anyone would miss it too terribly," Enjolras replied.
"I would," The girl smiled slightly
"Are you serious?" Enjolras asked in disbelief.
"Of course I'm serious, I'm Czech," The girl winked.
"Czech?" Enjolras furrowed his brow.
"Yes Czech," she replied, "well mostly Czech my parents are French, but we don't talk about that."
"I see," Enjolras' anger and frustration dissipated and was replaced with confusion, "you speak English well."
"You tease," The girl blushed slightly.
"No, no, really..."Enjolras pushed his hair from his face.
"I have an accent," she muttered.
"We all have accents," Enjolras laughed slightly becoming aware of his own Irish accent.
"I suppose you're right," the girl smiled, "so this is what you do?"
"What?" Enjolras didn't understand what she was getting at.
"Guitar, playing is what you do?" The girl asked again.
"Sort of," Enjolras shrugged, "It don't pay but I do it anyway." Actually this was the first time in a very long time he had played in a public place, he had always been dedicated to his music but with Siobhan gone... It had been a harsh blow.
"Impressive, but how do you live?" The girl asked.
"I uhhh..." Enjolras grew embarrassed, "I fix hoover's, good with me hands."
"Yeah?" The girl twisted a lock of hair around her finger, "could you fix my hoover?"
"You're hoover?" Enjolras narrowed his eyes.
"Yes," The girl nodded her head, "make it suck!" She declared.
"Uh... Alright," Enjolras scratched his head.
"How should should I pay you? I don't even have five Euro," she sighed as she continued to twist her hair around her finger, "I know!" She let her hair spring back, "I pay with music, you fix my hoover and I pay with music!"
Enjolras was wary about this, he was already close to being broke, to except a job for nothing? "Do I have a choice?" he asked.
"No," The girl smiled, "come," she held out her hand, "I pay you now!"
Enjolras stared at her and her outstretched arm, who was this girl and who did she think she was? She certainly had a lot of confidence.
"Come," she gestured again, "we go now!"
"Go? Go where?" Enjolras asked, he wasn't just going to up and leave like that.
"To little shop! I play music for you!" The girl replied.
Enjolras couldn't see the harm in that, he looked around the bar, back at Courfeyrac and Combeferre who seemed to engrossed in their beer and conversation to even notice if he were to leave.
"Less thinking, more going!" The girl pressed, "you promise!"
Enjolras sighed and packed up his guitar, he then slung the case on his back and followed the girl out of the bar.
The ringing of the bell on the door caused Courfeyrac and Combeferre to turn away from their conversation and notice that Enjolras had left, and so had the girl.
"What the-" Courfeyrac knit his brows together, they had been oblivious to a good portion of the conversation and did not know why their friend had left, "they're both gone, think they left together?" He turned to face Combeferre.
"It's Enjolras, that is very doubtful," Combeferre replied.
"I suppose you're right," Courfeyrac stretched, "Well I think I'll head out too, want to join me?"
"Sure," Conbeferre nodded and slowly stood up.
"Perhaps we'll find Enjolras along the way," Courfeyrac smiled.
What they didn't know was that Enjolras was following the mysterious girl to good knows where. Sure she had said a music store, but what kind of store would be opened now? It wasn't too late, but it seemed late enough that most places were closed down for the evening. This did not stop the girl who continued to walk at a brisk and determined pace down the streets of Dublin. She knew exactly where she was going, Enjolras only wished that he knew where they were going to. After crossing Grafton street they came to a stop in front of a small shop, the lights were still on.
"This is the small shop, I will pay you with music here," she nodded resolutely as they walked inside the shop.
The ding of the bell overhead alerted the clerk of their presence, "Hello little lass," he called from his place behind the register.
"Hello sir," The girl grinned.
"My lass," The clerk shook his head which was covered in dark curls not unlike the girl's, "I told you call me Ben, or Grantaire, take your pick, who you got with you?" He had taken notice of Enjolras.
"A friend," The girl replied.
"A friend?" Grantaire seemed wary of Enjolras.
"Yes, a friend," The girl nodded her head, "I play music as payment!"
"Payment?" Grantaire narrowed his eyes, he got out from behind the register and approached Enjolras. He firmly gripped his hand on his shoulder and steered him a few feet away. "Listen mate, I don't what's with you and her but if you lay a finger on her, or take advantage of her-" his tone grew dark and serious.
"I'm just fixing her hoover!" Enjolras blurted out, he then glanced at his lapel that was gripped tightly in Grantaire's grasp, "please let go of me."
With a huff Grantaire loosened his grip on Enjolras.
"May I play her for a bit?" The girl asked.
"Sure thing," Grantaire backed away from Enjolras, "play to yer hearts content."
The girl walked over to an old upright piano in the back of the store, she pulled out the bench and adjusted her skirt before she sat down. Gently she placed her hands on the lid of the piano, she leaned her head down and smiled, "Hello," she spoke in a quite whisper.
"What are you doing?" Enjolras raised his eyebrow.
"You must always say hello to a piano," The girl replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Okay," Enjolras sighed and turned to the piano, "how you doin?"
The girl frowned, "That is not polite!"
Enjolras suppressed rolling his eyes, he then turned towards the piano once again, "Hello," he spoke in similar tone to the way the girl had.
She smiled, "Now what to play you, something old? New? Original?" The girl muttered as she raised the lid, "I know!" She started playing, it immediately captured Enjolras attention, he did not recognize the piece, but it was beautiful nonetheless. The sound was up and down, it enveloped him. He started watching the girl, her eyes would close occasionally, she was as lost in the melody as he was. Her fingers floated over the keys and Enjolras couldn't believe the sound being elicited.
The piece came to a close, the girl looked up at him and smiled, "You like?"
"Did you write that?" Enjolras asked.
"Mendelssohn," The girl giggled.
"What?" Enjolras still didn't quite understand.
"Mendelssohn, Felix Mendelssohn he wrote notes, made beautiful music," The girl explained.
Enjolras did know who Mendelssohn was, "The composer?"
"Yes, that is the word!" The girl nodded.
"Where did you learn to play?" Enjolras asked.
"Took lessons as a child, even when things got bad in later years... My teacher continued to teach me, said I had potential," The girl shrugged, "so we fix my hoover now?"
"Huh?" Enjolras pushed his hair from his face, he had almost forgotten why they were there, "oh right," he stuck his hands in his pockets only to hear the crinkle of paper. He frowned and pulled out a few sheets, he unfolded them to read their contents.
"What's that?" The girl asked as she stood up and walked over to him, she tried to peer over his shoulder but he was much too tall.
"It's nothing," Enjolras was going to fold it up and put it back in his pocket but it was snatched from his grasp, "hey, give that back!"
A wide grin broke out on her face, "You write notes! You are like Mendelssohn, only alive and Irish!"she laughed.
"Can I have it back now?" Enjolras sighed with exasperation.
"Can I play it first?" She asked.
"It's an old song," Enjolras leaned against the piano,"it's nothing really."
"It is still music, and I would like to play," she looked up at him as she sat back down at the piano.
"I guess I can't stop you," Enjolras sighed, she had already started playing but at a much faster tempo then he anticipated, "slow it down... A lot," he directed frimly.
"Okay," The girl nodded her head, she went back to the beginning and started over.
Enjolras listened as she played, and soon he started to sing along, the lyrics long since memorized, it had been written for Siobhan but his gaze was focused on the girl as she played.
"I don't know you but I want you all the more for that,"
The girl joined him on the second half of the verse, her accent was sweet and her tone kind.
"And words fall through me and always fool me and I can't react
And games that never amount to more than their meant will play them selves out-"
The piano music swelled under their vocals going from Piano and ascending to Forte.
"Take this sinking boat and point it home,
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now
Falling slowly, eyes that now me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won."
The music swelled once again, Enjolras wasn't sure that even he had played this with as much passion and emotion as this girl.
"Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing it loud-"
The girl launched into the last few ending measure and finished with a smile, "Beautiful," she whispered quietly, she then looked up at Enjolras, "who was she?"
"Who?" Enjolras asked.
"The girl, in the song... Where is she?" The girl asked again.
"Gone," Enjolras shook his head slightly.
The girl gasped, "I'm sorry... I really should not have-"
"She went to New York," Enjolras informed her, "she is still very alive."
"You must love her a lot," The girl smiled.
"I did, then one day she decided she'd had enough of me and Dublin, and she left," Enjolras let his shoulders drop, "There wasn't enough to make her stay."
"Not even you?" A crease formed on her forehead as she frowned, her face looked confused.
"No," Enjolras replied.
The girl looked it him in disbelief, "But that song, your music... It has much heart and soul! If you go to New York and play it for her you get her back!" Her bright smile returned.
"Yeah right," Enjolras scoffed, while he did appreciate her childlike innocence she seemed naive when it came to matters of the heart.
"With a song like that you could win any woman's heart! You record, make... They call it a demonstration tape?" The girl paused to think, "you get record deal! You go to New York!"
"It's not that simple," Enjolras glanced at her.
"Why not?" She put her hands on her hips and pouted, "you still love her, you have dream, you can do anything!"
"She has someone else," Enjolras sighed.
"Oh..." The girl sat back down on the piano bench her eyes growing dark and hurt appearing on her face.
"Besides, I thought this was supposed to be about me fixing your hoover?" Enjolras asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"Oh right," The girl nodded her head slowly, "yes, we should go."
Enjolras noticed her clear shift in behavior, she seemed hurt almost, but he couldn't figure out why. She then smiled at him with a bright smile, "Come we go get my hoover, and you fix it."
She said her farewell to Grantaire and they were back out on the even darker streets of Dublin. They walked quite a distance farther down into the Grafton Street neighbor hood, not far off the river to where some old buildings were crowded together. "I'll be just a moment," she ducked inside leaving Enjolras alone on the stoop. About ten minutes later he heard a loud ruckus on the stairs and she came out the door dragging her hoover behind her. It seemed an old model, almost ancient, perhaps it was just time for her to get a new one? Still he was sure that she was going to make him fulfill his promise and at least try and make it work.
"So we go to your shop?" The girl asked.
"I wouldn't exactly call it my shop, I work for Mr. Flaherty in his shop but he is closed for the night," Enjolras explained.
"Wherever you fix things then," The girl replied.
Enjolras quickly looked around trying to figure out where they were, "This way," he nodded his head. They walked off down the streets with her hoover in tow. Enjolras couldn't help but notice that while the girl didn't care they were certainly getting some odd looks from passerby's. After all it isn't every day you see an Irishman with a guitar escorting a Czech girl with a hoover.
"So when did she leave?" The girl asked as they walked.
"Who?" Enjolras knit his brow and then realized what she was talking about. "Oh... Siobhan left six months ago," he sighed.
"Why?" The girl asked.
"I already told you," Enjolras started walking faster, this was not a topic he wanted to talk about.
"All you say is that she had enough of Dublin, and enough of you," The girl replied, "what does that mean?"
"I perhaps wasn't the most attentive to her," Enjolras shrugged slightly, "she told me I couldn't see past the end of my nose."
"What does that mean?" The girl frowned slightly, "I don't get your English slang."
"I couldn't see what was right in front of me," Enjolras sighed, "she also didn't like that I did nothing with my law degree because I couldn't make up my mind."
"Law degreed... So you an intelligent musician!" The girl laughed.
"Well I bet you're a intelligent musician too," Eniolras replied not understanding what she meant by that.
"I'm only good at music," the girl sighed, "it's why that's all I can pay you with, anything else I know is not worth knowing.
"Well you are damn good at it," Enjolras smiled slightly.
"My parents thought it was a waste of time," The girl pushed her hair from her face, "when we had a piano I would practice for hours, I would come to the piano straight after school, practice and practice."
"It paid off," Enjolras tried to sound encouraging.
"For what?" She rolled her eyes, "sometimes I wonder why I left..."
"Was it nice there?" Enjolras asked.
"Hmm?" The girl raised her eyebrows.
"The Czech Republic, is it nice there?" Enjolras elaborated a but more on his previous statement.
"I suppose, I mean I called it home," She brushed her hair off her shoulder.
"So why Dublin?" Enjolras was genuinely curious.
"It seemed like an adventure," She shrugged, "thought I could do better here, but sometimes I really wonder- Are we there yet?" She asked as she switched the hand she was using to roll her hoover along.
"Not far now," Enjolras nodded, "I could take that for you." He glanced back at the hoover that clanked and clattered against the uneven payment.
"You underestimate me, I am strong," she nodded her head resolutely.
"If you insist," Enjolras couldn't resist smiling.
"Are all you Irishmen gentlemen?" She cocked her head to the side.
"I would like to think so," Enjolras laughed slightly, "although it might be the French blood in my veins."
"Oh, you too?" The girl's eyes brightened.
"Way back," Enjolras explained, "but the surname name has stuck around... What is your name?"
"Does it matter?" The girl asked.
"I mean we've been talking for quite awhile and we haven't shared names-"
"Does it matter?" She repeated, "I like mystery."
"Alright," Enjolras sighed, "well here we are," he stopped at the door that opened to a narrow staircase that lead up to his flat. He opened the door and let her in, she walked up the stairs with the hoover thumping on every step, she then stood at the top of the landing waiting for him. Once up in the small space he awkwardly squeezed past her to unlock the door and he let her inside. He turned on the lights, "Feel free to sit," he gestured to the couch that was just off the kitchen and dining area.
The girl dragged the hoover and flopped down on the couch, "Oof!" She exclaimed, "I might sink in this!" She laughed.
"Yeah, it's kinda old," Enjolras replied as he reached in the space under the sink where he kept his tools. Withdrawing the red and slightly rusted box he flicked on the stand lamp and started to examine the hoover. He then glanced to see the girl sitting somewhat stiffly on the couch with her hands in her lap. "Feel free to make yourself at home," he called out as he lay the hoover on the ground and pulled off the bottom.
The girl looked around the flat, "It's nice here."
"Yeah, I guess," Enjolras replied as he continued to work, "I think I got your problem!" Somehow the hoover was still in working condition even though he deemed it an artifact earlier in the evening.
"You make it suck?" The girl asked excitedly.
"Not sure yet," Enjolras replied, he was now practically parallel to the floor shining a light inside the broken hoover, "seems the belt came off the motor, fix that and we should be in business."
"Úžasny!" She beamed.
"What was that?" Enjolras knot his brow together.
"Wonderful in Czech," the girl smiled.
"Got it," Enjolras nodded, "okay, just a little more... The belt is now back in place, some loose screws on the motor..."
The girl watched almost in awe what he was doing, she leaned her hands on her knees trying to watch as he worked.
"Good," Enjolras clapped his hands together, he then picked up the bottom on the hoover and put it back in place. He unwound the cord, plugged it into a nearby outlet, then went back to flip the switch and the hoover roared to life. He rolled it over his rather dingy rug and while it didn't make it look better it certainly picked up the dirt. "Well everything seems to be in working order," he flipped the switch off.
"You did as promise, you fix my hoover," The girl smiled.
"Small fix," Enjolras smiled as he went over to the sink and washed his hands, he turned back to face the girl, "Would you like to see my bedroom?" he immediately regretted the phrasing of those words the second they left his mouth.
"Excuse me?" The girl's eyebrows bent in.
"I don' mean anything like that," Enjolas tried to explain himself, trying desperately to cover his tracks and retracting for his motormouth.
"So what do you mean?" The girl asked pulling her arms close to her chest.
"I have some recordings we could listen to," Enjolras smiled awkwardly, his face felt warm.
"Oh?" The girl seemed to ease up, "sure."
He pushed open the door to his bedroom and let her in, she got up from the couch and walked in looking around the small room, "This is your room..." She sat on the bed and the springs creaked under her.
Enjolras pulled a few tapes from his nightstand, he picked one and popped it into the player sitting on top.
The music didn't immediately start which he thought odd as he sat beside the girl. Then it started to get awkward, "So what do you have for me today-" a feminine voice came through the tape, it was Siobhan.
"Recording a new song," Came Enjolras recorded reply.
"That's all?" Siobhan sighed, "are you ever going to do anything with all these recordings?" she was sounding irritated. Enjolras could clearly picture this day in his head and he could hardly believe that he kept the tape around. This was not even two weeks before he discovered she was cheating on him and about a month before she took off for New York.
"Someday, but there are other things at hand, more important things-"
"You and this politics game!" Now she sounded disgusted.
Enjolras' eyes flitted towards the girl who just sat quietly and looked uncomfortable as she listened.
"Are you a politician or a musician?! Make up your god damned mind-"
Enjolras stopped the tape, he pulled it out of the player and threw it into the garbage can and picked another one. This one was actually recordings of some of his songs, "I'm really sorry that you had to hear all of that," he was flustered now.
"Was that her?" The girl seemed confused.
"Yes," Enjolras returned to where he had been sitting beside her before.
"You must have an awfully big heart to love someone like that," The girl's eyes were wide as she looked to where he tossed the tape away.
"My friends would disagree with you," Enjolras smirked, "they think I'm made of stone-"
"Then they must hardly know you at all," The girl looked him straight in the eyes, "I see a strong, kind man, you 'ave passion and fire in your heart, it shows in your music."
"I can't continue like this, with Siobhan gone-"
"So you get her back!" The girl was getting excited.
Looking at her a Enjolras was beginning to question his feelings like had many times in the past weeks, did he really want Siobhan back?
"You become famous and get her-" the girl paused as their eyes connected. Perhaps the music in the background wasn't doing much to help the situation but something drew them together. Enjolras just found his eyes fixated on this strange girl and she seemed drawn to him as well. They leaned towards each other as if they were to kiss, their faces dangerously close. Then she raised a hand, pushed his mouth away from her own, "I'm sorry... I must be going." She pushed open the bedroom door to leave.
"Wait," Enjolras got up after her, "please stay," he asked as she collected her hoover hastily as she was leaving.
She give him a sad look, "I can't," she sighed, "and I'm sorry I couldn't pay you-"
"We already worked this out," Enjolras didn't want her to leave, especially on a note like this one.
"Music, it doesn't buy food or shelter," the girl replied as she wrapped up the cord and walked out taking her hoover with her.
Enjolras seemed in shock for a moment, when he finally collected himself he grabbed his cost and scarf and sprinted down the stairs hoping to catch her. By the time he got out the door she was already gone from his sight, by not knowing his name he had no way of calling out for her either... Maybe that was what she had wanted all along.