DISCLAIMER: I do not own Les Miserables or any of the characters mentioned here. Although, well, a girl can dream, right?

Musichetta found her way to Enjolras with a nervous smile at the after-party. Everyone congratulated and praised her for the fantastic debut, but she couldn't help feeling a little insecure. Screw the critics; she was more worried about his opinion. Enjolras loved operas (the guys thought he might have taken his hipster status too seriously) and she was afraid that she had butchered Bizet's Carmen for him.

She approached him hesitantly. "How did I do?"

Enjolras, stood among most of the Amis (par Marius and Cosette, who went home early), smiled softly at her. "You did a great job, 'Chetta,"

"Really?"

He nodded in approval.

She tackled him into a hug and squealed expressions of gratitude that he mostly couldn't catch. He gave her an awkward but nevertheless friendly pat on the back. But, as he could almost feel his ribs crushing in her embrace, the friendly pat turned into a frantic tap-out.

"I can't breathe," Enjolras managed to say in a strained voice.

The new leading lady quickly let go of him. "I'm sorry,"

"Look at that; Musichetta got further with Enjolras than you ever did in public," Courfeyrac elbowed Éponine.

She laughed light-heartedly. "Will you just give it a rest, Courf?"

"No, I won't! How are you two even in a relationship?" he wondered incredulously.

"We are; we're just not sappy and sickening like most people are," Enjolras answered simply.

"Oh, right. I forgot that gods do it differently," Grantaire smirked, taking his fourth glass of champagne.

"Now, now, Dionysus…" Éponine patted his hand gently. "We don't want to differ ourselves from our mortal friends, do we?"

"I'm just saying," Courfeyrac shrugged, "Some guy will try to whisk her away from you at some point and you can't just stand idly by."

"I doubt that he will," Bahorel muttered into his drink.

Enjolras didn't feel like he should dignify his feelings for Éponine in front of his friends, so he just rolled his eyes and returned to his mostly untouched champagne.

"What about me? Should I be worried?"

"I think you're good, considering we seriously thought he was asexual before you came along," Combeferre replied, his tone light but convincing.

"We thought he had a thing for justice or books or something like that," Bossuet laughed.

Joly mused, "I wonder if there was such condition…"

"Guys, I'm right here," Enjolras pointed out tiredly –which was quite pointless, ironically, seeing how they completely ignored him.

"All those unsuccessful set-ups have led us to the assumption that our chief here has no preferences at all," Grantaire concluded and sighed in reminisce. "But, no, it turns out he was just clueless,"

"Prude," Bahorel coughed, turning aside towards (coincidentally) Joly.

The young surgeon flipped out immediately. He went on about a deadly disease he might have just been infected with. Bahorel insisted that he was perfectly fine, but Joly pointed out that with how many women he had slept with, it was possible that he might have caught something. Feeling offended that he was being implied as a man-whore, Bahorel retorted with somewhere along the lines of 'just where is the one place with a surprisingly high chance that you could get contracted to some strange disease that someone else picked up on?'

Things had almost gone back to normal –well, as normal as they could possibly be…

A hand tapped Musichetta's shoulder gently from behind. "They were wondering where you were,"

She turned around to find her heart-throb of a castmate just… looking pretty there.

"Everyone is buzzing about that mesmerizing newcomer who played Carmen tonight," he teased her.

"Is that right?" she blushed lightly. They didn't know if it was the flattery or the man who said it (or both) that made her red in the face.

Unlike the naïve young soldier he played, the man looked more mature and charming in real life. He was a tad older than the rest of them in his early 30's. His suit-clad figure and slicked-back dark hair made him seem so refined. His voice was warm, contrasting with the sharp voices of Joly and Bahorel bickering.

"I'm very sorry, I did not mean to intrude…" he quickly set his eyes down seeing her friends were rather occupied, but those pair of green orbs came to a halt at Éponine's… necklace (or, specifically, where the necklace rested on).

Enjolras fought the urge to roll his eyes until he could look up his brain.

"I don't believe you've introduced me to this beautiful lady before, 'Chetta," he said matter-of-factly.

Éponine and Enjolras had missed being introduced to most of Musichetta's castmates to see Cosette off who left early with a fever ("Sure, you do…" Jehan winked discreetly at her).

"I'm Éponine Thénardier," she offered her hand.

"Éponine…" he tasted her name on his tongue as he shook her hand, "I'm Olivier Montparnasse,"

Éponine wasn't one to swoon and fall at men's feet easily. But, a handsome tenor who acted like a charmer sure took her aback a little.

She snapped out of it soon enough. "And this is Enjolras, my… He's my –Well, we're together," she stammered.

"Oh, right. Hello," Olivier offered Enjolras his hand awkwardly, knowing that the guy caught him checking out his girlfriend.

Enjolras shook it and nodded with a tight smile. It was best to keep his silver tongue on a leash than say something that could ruin everyone's evening. I'd hate to make you cry in front of my friends, he thought smugly.

Max turned his attention back to Musichetta. "You better get out there, 'Chetta. A lot of people have been asking for you,"

"I'll be there in a minute,"

"I should be going, then," he then looked at Éponine one last time, "It was very nice to meet you and your boyfriend, Mademoiselle," bringing her hand up to his lips.

Éponine hated that she was blushing, yet she couldn't help it. What was a girl to do?

Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras to give him a 'see-what-I-mean?' look, but he was already met with the chief's infamous deadpan. He took it as a sign to not bring the topic up again and started a lighter one.

"Before you go, tell me something," he snaked his arm around Musichetta's shoulder. "I want you to give me an honest answer."

"Shoot,"

He looked around as if he was making sure nobody outside their abstract circle was listening. "Is he here?"

"Who?"

"The phantom of the opera."

Everyone burst out laughing. Grantaire even nearly shot champagne out of his nose.

"You know, the angel of music your father sent you when he's in heaven?"

"Her father lives in Auxerre, Courf. I think that's a bit too far from heaven," Joly laughed.

He shrugged. "You never know. Heaven is a place on Earth, is it not?"

A few of them cringed at his lame pop culture reference.

"Besides, my dad runs an auto shop; I doubt there's any angel of music that he knows of," Musichetta said matter-of-factly.

"You just had to crush my dream, do you?" he pouted.

"Let it go, love. He's not here," Jehan ran his hand up and down his boyfriend's back soothingly.

"Yeah," Éponine chimed in, "He's been dead 16 years…"

Courfeyrac's face fell. "You are awful."

"And you're nosy."

Just like that, another silly banter ensued among them. It was almost too easy. Éponine had the upper hand and slowly riled him up. Enjolras just sat back and watched the girl own the young lawyer. His girl.

A/N: First off, thank you so much for all of your positive feedbacks! It really means a lot to me and please do not hesitate to speak your mind on the review box –good or bad. I need all the criticism and input that I can get. If you have any ideas or anything for this story, feel free to hit me up here or on Tumblr (my url is gooneranalogheart). I'm not quite sure what to do with the story, seeing as I only wrote it as a 'cure' for the heartache I get from the angsty fics I read. I want to make this happy and light, but not up until it's sickening, haha. So, please let me know if it's getting too much!

By the way, did anyone catch that Broadway references I made towards the end? :) I just might give a little preview of the next chapter to the one who answers correctly… (assuming that one of you did catch them and are bothered to answer it, haha)

P.S. Thank you to Jah for pointing out my error on Montparnasse! I used Max at first, but then I decided to change it to Olivier and.. well, I guess I missed that one *blushes, hides*