Present
Enjolras hears the last of his friends murmer words of comfort to him. A hug, a gentle squeeze, a promise that everything will be alright. Then he is alone. All alone in the Café, where only a couple days ago his whole world came crashing down on him.
He had always cared for his drunken friend. True, they were always fighting, they never saw eye to eye and they hardly ever hung out together. And yet, he was a friend, one of Enjolras dearest friends. And that friend had been drowning his life in the bottle.
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks, you say, sit down, it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Past
Enjolras was worried. He wanted, no needed, Grantaire to change his ways. How could he let his friend throw his life away like this. He had to make Grantaire see that things had to change, that the way things were going now, were no longer acceptable.
He had had enough of the fighting. He had grown tired of his mocking words. He didn't want his meetings to be disturbed anymore. He didn't want to carry his drunken friend home. He didn't want to lie awake worrying if next time, his friend wouldn't wake up anymore from his drunken slumber.
No, Enjolras was sure, things had to change. And he had to get that through the drunkards head. So he had decided to confront his friend about it, that fateful night after the meeting.
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines, of fear and blame
You began to wonder why you came
It was a meeting no different than any other. Enjolras gave his speech, the Amis discussed afterwards and Grantaire sat in his regular corner, taking swigs from his bottle, laughing at Enjolras' plans and mocking his ideals.
This is it, confont him now or forever hold your silence, Enjolras thought. He had been planning this moment in his head for a while. Both men got angry easily but this conversation was not supposed to end in a fight. Enjolras honestly hoped to make some progress with his friend. Hoped to make him see the light. Hoped to show Grantaire that he only wanted what was best for him. And that was not the bottle.
"Grantaire", he spoke silently after the meeting. The Amis were enjoying themselves, giving Enjolras his space to do what he had planned.
Grantaire looked up drunkily at his blonde leader. He huffed and said "are you actually voluntarily speaking to me oh, mighty Apollo?"
"Can I speak with you?", Enjolras asked, ignoring Grantaires attempt to insult him.
Grantaire snorted and motioned to the chair opposite of him. "By all means, fearless leader"
Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would've stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Enjolras took his seat and folded his hands on the table In front of him. He searched Grantaires face and tried to make eye contact.
Grantaire averted his eyes though. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable under Enjolras' gaze. He raised the bottle to his mouth and tried to take a swig but found the bottle snatched out of his hand, before he could.
"I'd like to have this conversation without that bottle Grantaire, since it's the exact thing I want to talk to you about."
Grantaire glared at Enjolras and was about to raise his voice but the blonde cut him off.
"Please Taire"
There was a silence. Both men staring intently at each other. Then Grantaire gave in. "Very well", he sighed deeply, "say what you must and then leave me to what I do best. Think it's highly unfair though, since I cannot take your precious revolution away from you in order to have a 'conversation'."
Enjolras pursed his lips and silently counted to ten, forcing himself to stay calm. "I'm only doing this because I'm worried about you Grantaire. We might fight all the time, but I care for you and it angers me to see how you throw your life away for something so stupid while you could be such a great person."
Grantaire started laughing. "You are joking with me, you must be! I would say you are drunk, had I not known that to be impossible. Do you honestly think you can trick me into believing you care just to have me give up the only thing that is good in my life?"
"It's nothing good Grantaire", Enjolras hissed, losing his calm.
Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Enjolras had known this conversation was going to be difficult but he had hoped that Grantaire would at least show him the same respect and would try to keep the talk civilized. And yet here he was, doing his best once again to annoy him. He wasn't listening to his words in the slightest.
"What good does it do you Grantaire? Does it help you forget? Forget about that miserable life you're leading? Forget about all the things you could've been if only you would have left those bottles untouched?"
Grantaire once again only laughed, but didn't say anything.
"Does it make you think you're a better person? Giving you the courage to mock me and my ideals? Does it help you to sleep at night, without wallowing in guilt and self-loathing? Does it give you strenght to get up again in the morning?"
"You know nothing", Grantaire whispered.
"I know enough. I know you hate who you are and I know that is why you drink. And drinking once again makes you hate yourself. You have to step out of that circle, Grantaire, it is destroying you and everything you hold dear."
Grantaires' face was all anger. He was breathing heavily. His eyes were filled with hate and yet there was also sadness and guilt.
"I'm only trying to help", Enjolras insisted.
"What you are doing, Enjolras, is pointing out what kind of failure I am! You do not care who I am, you only care about the cause. And apparently it now is necessary for the cause to change me! Just leave me alone, you've never cared before."
Enjolras shook his head. "I should have known this was hopeless and a waste of my time."
Lay down a list of what is wrong
Of things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you
"Sure! I'm the hopeless cause", Grantaire said, raising his voice. The other Amis in the room had fallen quiet and were now following the conversation beween their leader and their drunk.
"Don't come over here, pretending to be a good friend all of a sudden, while all you've ever done is running me down, calling me names and telling me how disgusting I am. You live for your precious revolution, you do not care about anything else! If someone here is a good friend it's me. You have no idea how much I care about you, despite that unrealistic revolution of yours. My mocking is only because I don't want you and everyone else for that matter to die for a people who are never going to come!"
Enjolras was done keeping his cool. He tried. He really had tried!
"Stop poisoning everyone with your drunken words you winecask! All I was trying to do was to make you realise that you don't need alcohol to make yourself worthy! Why don't you understand what I'm trying to say to you? Why are you so stubborn?!"
Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would've stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Things were escalating fast now. They both got angrier by the minute, fuming and shouting, causing the Amis to come between them and keep them from attacking each other.
"If I'm stubborn, then you must be the most naive, stupid little boy I've ever met! You say you fight for the people yet you have no idea of the real suffering of the people! You don't know them, you don't know me! You've never bothered asking why I drink in the first place! You strive towards a future that will never exist! You are a stuck up little rich boy, fighting your daddy and you will be a failure!"
Grantaire immediately regretted what he had said. It was a low blow. They were both wrong in this. They were both yelling, but neither one of them was listening. Enjolras stood rigid, anger evident on his face.
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours, grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
Enjolras forced himself to give his friend a last ultimatum. Inside he was boiling, he was furious with this drunkard and he wanted nothing more then to throw him out. He never wanted to see him again.
But he was supposed to be the intelligent one. The one who argued with reason and respect. With logic and facts. He couldn't let his emotions of the moment get the best of him.
He took a breath and looked at Grantaire with piercing eyes. "It's this", he said, motioning at the café, the Amis and himself, "or it is that bottle. Your choice Grantaire. It's the final one I'll give you."
Grantaire looked at him defiantly. He smirked. Inside his mind was begging him to accept, to make amends, to swallow his goddamn pride for one second, but instead he only grinned devilishly, grabbed a bottle of wine and took a swig.
Some of the Amis closed their eyes, fearing what would come. Others groaned in annoyance and yet others kept looking fearfully from Enjolras to Grantaire.
Enjolras' eyes were on fire. He couldn't remember ever being this angry. He didn't pay attention to his friends' pleading voices. He was done. Enough was enough.
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came
"Get out", he spat, voice infused with disgust, anger and persistence. Grantaire knew then and there, it was over. He would never see his Apollo again.
"Get out, don't ever come back here. Don't ever speak to me again. Don't ever ask me for anything again." He knew he should stop. Stop talking. But the anger won out over the reason. "You're dead to me."
The words hit Grantaire hard. He stood and left, leaving the backroom of the café in a deafening silence.
A lot of things happened afterwards. Enjolras thought them over. He kept playing their fight over and over in his head. He thought about things he should have done differently, things Grantaire should've done differently. And the guilt, the ever present guilt, weighing heavily on his shoulders. Where did he go wrong? Could he have saved Granaires life?
After their fight, Enjolras had stormed out of the café as well, towards his own apartment. He was angry. At Grantaire. At himself. At the whole damn situation that had gone so entirely different from how he had wanted it to go.
That night one of his worst fears had been realized. Grantaire had drunk so much. Too much. Before the cynic fell asleep that night, he cursed himself for not acknowledging the hand of friendship offered to him by none other than Enjolras himself. And he had pushed away. He fell asleep, only blaming himself for this whole situation. He would never wake up again.
Present
Enjolras now sat alone in the café. In the corner. Grantaire's corner. And he cried. His cries turned into painful sobs, shaking his whole body. He cried until there were no more tears. He cried until his eyes fell closed. Until sleep took over. He didn't notice Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who had come back to the café. They carried him home and put him to bed.
He slept. And he dreamed. Of Grantaire. Of his friend, who came to comfort him. Who came to take his pain away. Even if only for a little while.
Where did I go wrong
I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would've stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
The end.
(okaaay, so I really hope you liked this. It's a very sad story which just popped into my head after listening the song and I just had to write it. Please let me know what you think? Love, sarahbob)