Two

Eponine

I automatically assume that the walk to the café is going to be awkward, since I barely know Enjolras, but it actually isn't. Although he is a student, a wealthy student, he is treating me like a human being and actually trying to have a conversation with me.

"You knew I was the leader of Les Amis. Marius must have told you something about me then," he says.

"Yes, he told me you were the leader, but he really hasn't said much else. Sometimes I sit in the alley behind the café and if I listen very carefully, I can hear your speeches occasionally. I figure that if Marius won't tell me about his cause, then I would find out for myself."

I glance back at him and notice the frown on his face.

"I hope it is okay that I sit outside and listen," I add.

Enjolras's eyes widen, "Oh of course it is! I only wonder, why have you never joined us inside?"

With his question, I stop and stare at him incredulously. I quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Have you not looked at me, Monsieur? I am a gamine, a filthy street rat. I don't belong among people like you. I am fortunate Marius is kind to me," I scoff.

"Eponine, I have looked at you, and your status means nothing. You are still a person, a person just like the rest of us. Everyone is welcome to Les Amis if they are sympathetic to the cause. You belong wherever you want to belong. And I thought we agreed to drop formalities," he explains.

I stand there and stare at him for a moment. Does he truly believe that my status means nothing? He'd be one of the first people I've met who believes that. I am aghast.

"Right, well I apologize, Enjolras," I begin walking again, "Thank you for the invitation, but I don't want to intrude."

"Oh, but you wouldn't be intruding! The more supporters we have, the better. There aren't very many other women there, but the barmaid is my friend's mistress, and she is sympathetic to the cause. I'm sure she'd love some company," he argues.

Since he is behind me, I roll my eyes. Of course, the mistress of a bourgeois student wants the company of a street rat whore like myself. Right. I'll believe it when I see it.

"I'll think about it," I say, just hoping he'll drop it.

But he doesn't.

"I don't mean this to be offensive, but you are the epitome of what our cause stands for. I think if you became a supporter, you could get some of the other lower class people involved as well."

I can hear the hope and enthusiasm in his voice.

"I wouldn't bet on that. If you haven't already noticed, I'm not really a people person."

Before he can respond, I point down another alley.

"Just go down this alley and turn right. The Musain will be two blocks away in that direction," I instruct.

"Thank you," he nods.

I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm.

"We're having a meeting right now. Why don't you just come and see what it's like? If you don't like it or don't want to be a part of the cause, then I'll never bother you again. Is that a deal, Eponine?"

Why is he so adamant I come to a meeting? But his offer does sound good. Come to one meeting, and then he never bothers me again? It's not that I don't like him. It's just that I don't have time to get wrapped up in something that will inevitably lead to a hopeless revolution. I wish Marius would see the same way I do. I don't want to have to watch him die.

"Deal, Enjolras," I answer.

I walk with him up to the Musain doors, fidgeting with the material of my ragged skirt. He may welcome me, but who's to say that his friends will? He offers me a small smile as he pushes the doors open. I follow behind him, and his stature hides most of my form from the rest of the students. All of the young men are talking and laughing. Some are playing card games, some are drinking. They seem like one big family.

"Musichetta?" Enjolras calls.

A curvy woman with long auburn ringlets gets up off of one of the student's laps and makes her way over to us.

"How can I help you, Apollo?" she asks, a mischievous gleam in her green eyes.

Apollo? Where did that come from and what does that mean? I hear Enjolras huff slightly at what I assume is a nickname. He steps to the side so Musichetta can see me better.

"This is Eponine. I was hoping you'd make her feel welcome here?"

"Well, of course! Just come with me, then Eponine!" she smiles.

Musichetta grabs my wrist and begins to pull me along. I turn back to Enjolras and glare at him slightly. He could have at least prepared me for what I would be facing here. She takes me around to various tables introducing me to everyone. So far, I have met a poet named Jehan, a big man named Bahorel, a fan maker called Feuilly, and a rather unlucky fellow called Bossuet. Two other men sit at a table with Enjolras but they look like they are having a serious conversation, so she skips them for the moment. The last table she takes me to is the one that she came from. It is emptier than before because the two men who are talking to Enjolras were sitting there when we came in. Now there are only two men left at the table, the man that Musichetta was sitting with and a man holding a dark glass bottle.

"Eponine, this is Joly," Musichetta introduced, gesturing to the man whose lap she was occupying only minutes earlier. Then she pointed to the man with the bottle, "This is our resident drunk, Grantaire."

Grantaire raised his glass in my direction, "Welcome, Eponine!"

Suddenly, I hear Enjolras's voice, loud and frantic, "Where is Marius?"

He must have been doing a headcount to make sure everyone made it out of the rally safely. I step forward and hold up my hand to get his attention.

"One of the other ways out of the short cut leads to his flat. I'm sure he went there," I assure.

Some of the panic seems to deflate from Enjolras's features and he relaxes.

"Alright then, we are all accounted for. I'd say everything went well today," he announces.

A man with glasses seated next to Enjolras stands up beside him, "We handed out all of our pamphlets, so we'll need to make some more."

With that, the entire crowd of students gets to work. Everyone moves about talking and swapping pieces of paper. I just sit and watch because I have no clue what they're doing. Everyone gets to work except for the man Musichetta introduced as Grantaire. I move to sit beside him.

"So Grantaire, right?"

"At your service, mademoiselle," he says with quite a bit of theatrics.

I laugh, "Just Eponine. Why aren't you working like they are?"

"I'm not exactly a supporter," he responds.

"And he lets you stay?" I question, gesturing to Enjolras who is bent over the table writing.

Grantaire scoffs, "Apollo doesn't let me do anything. I do as I please. I'm a bit of a cynic, don't really believe in much."

Oh, a cynic. He and I will get along well then. But there it was again, Apollo.

"You're the second person I've heard call Enjolras by Apollo. What does that mean?"

Grantaire takes a long pull on his bottle before answering, "Have you ever seen a drawing of the Greek god Apollo?"

I tell him that I haven't.

"Well, they look very similar to each other. Golden hair, pale skin, almost too perfect. I started calling him that, and then it spread. He doesn't like it too much. We only call him that to get under his skin," he smiles.

I nod in understanding. I will have to find a picture of Apollo.

I point to his bottle, "What are you drinking?"

"A woman of many questions, I see. I like you," he laughs before passing the bottle to me, "Take a drink."

I look at the bottle questioningly before deciding to trust him. I've barely known him five minutes, and I already like him. I bring the bottle to my lips and tip it back. The liquid burns terribly as it rolls down my throat. I swallow quickly and cough, handing the bottle back to him.

"What is that?" I splutter.

My father drinks, and I have too on occasion, but never anything that strong.

Grantaire chuckles at me, "It's absinthe. A little too strong for you?"

"A little? Try a lot! How in the world do you stomach that?" I exclaim.

"Years of practice, my dear Eponine," he winks before tipping the bottle back again.

I laugh at him. I think I've made a new friend. My attention shifts from the revolutionary students to Grantaire. We converse for quite a while, even once his brain succumbed to the alcohol he had been consuming steadfastly. Grantaire eventually passes out on the table in front of him and I look up to see only Enjolras and the two men I haven't met yet still left in the café.

"Where did everyone else go?"

The man with the glasses answers me, pulling a pocket watch from his trousers, "They've all gone home. It's nearly midnight."

It's only then that I realize that it is pitch dark outside.

"Oh, I didn't realize how late it is."

Enjolras suddenly looks up from his papers, "Eponine, you still haven't met these two have you?"

He stands and gestures to the man with the glasses, "This is Combeferre." Then he turns to the other man who is grinning like a manic, "And this is Courfeyrac. Some of the closest friends I have. 'Ferre, Courfeyrac, this is Eponine."

They both shake my hands and tell me that it is a pleasure to meet me. I've never been around so many kind people in my life. They leave us shortly after. Enjolras goes back to reading the paper that he spent nearly the whole meeting writing.

"What did you write?" I ask.

"It's a new pamphlet idea," he explains.

"May I see it?"

He looks up from his seat with shock, "You read?"

I roll my eyes and snatch the paper from his hands, "I'm poor, not stupid. I have quite a good vocabulary too. The things you learn on the streets…I could have been a student like you!"

"Eponine, I apologize! I didn't mean that to be rude! I was just shocked. I know you're not stupid," he fumbles.

It's actually kind of fun to watch him stumble to apologize. I smile.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm not mad. I'm just joking. But I can read."

Relief washes over his face, "Then by all means, read and tell me what you think."

I sit beside him and begin to read his elegant yet rushed handwriting. And what I read is good, really good. He has a way with words, which I already knew by listening to his speeches. It takes me a minute to finish reading but when I do, I nod my head and look up at him.

"It's really good, Enjolras. You should put this in your pamphlets."

He offers me one of his half-smiles, "Thank you. I think I'll retire for the evening. Shall I walk you home?"

I know I shouldn't return home now. It's too late, and my father won't be happy. I don't want to face him tonight. I don't want to ruin this night with these wonderful people. I glance at Grantaire.

"I think I'll stay here tonight if you don't mind, give Grantaire some company."

I can see in his eyes that he doesn't believe that's the reason I'm choosing to sleep in the café.

"Are you sure? He'll be fine here by himself. He sleeps here all the time."

I smile, "I'm sure."

"Very well. It's safer in the supply room and there are some blankets in there."

"Thank you, Enjolras."

He turns to leave, "I hope to see you soon, Eponine."

Once he leaves, I make my way to the supply room and make myself a nest out of the blankets. For the first time in a while, I actually sleep well.

Author's Note: I hope this chapter was a little better than the last, especially since it was longer. Most of this story will be from Eponine's point of view, but there will be some other viewpoints later. Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll let me know what you think!

~loislane16