She was walking in no direction in particular when, of course, she had to run into Marius and Cosette holding hands happily as they walked down the street. She glared and tried to slip away so she wouldn't have to talk to them, but she heard Cosette say

"Marius, isn't that Éponine?" And then she called "Éponine!" Éponine turned reluctant and fake-smiled. She didn't to see them anyways, but Marius would surely judge her because she was clearly a little drunk.

"Hey, 'Ponine." Marius said shortly.

"What's going on?" Cosette asked, trying to keep the mood friendly.

"Nothing" Éponine shrugged. Something about this must've given her away. Marius looked at Cosette apologetically and then turned back to Éponine. Cosette could sense something tense, and stepped back a little, trying to preoccupy herself with the button of her sweater.

"Éponine," he sighed, "are you drunk? You're talking weird and you smell strongly whiskey."

She but her lip. "Maybe a little..." She admitted, trying hard to fix her speech which only made it worse.

"Éponine, it's 1 in the afternoon." He pointed out, annoyed.

"I know," she said, suddenly feeling giggles coming on. She couldn't help it.

"Is this funny to you?" He asked indignantly.

"What are you? My dad?" She laughed.

"Your dad doesn't give a damn about you. And that's why I do." He said, immediately regretting how harsh he must've sounded. She stopped laughing. It only hurt because it was true.

"No you don't," she argued, "you just don't want Cosette to think you're friends with some alcoholic loser. And you aren't. Not anymore."

Cosette bit her lip and tried to ignore the clearly personal conversation, but she could hear every single word.

"Ponine.." He insisted, "you aren't a loser. You're my friend. I'm just worried. You're killing yourself. You drink far too much, you smoke, you hang around with sketchy people... I'm so worried about you."

"You wouldn't care if I died!" She scoffed, turning away. He put his hand on her shoulder.

"Of course I would." He insisted, momentarily turning back to look apologetically at Cosette. Éponine saw.

"It's ok." She scoffed as she saw his look, "you can tell Cosette you'll never have to babysit your stupid drunk friend ever again." She stormed off angrily, though perhaps her unsteady stumbling sort of walk took away some of the effect.

He called after her but she didn't turn around.

"Sorry about that." Marius sighed.

"No, no. It's alright. What's bothering her?" She asked sympathetically. She was so baffled by how Éponine, the girl she had always been jealous of, had become such a depressing creature. Her curiosity was getting the best of her, she really wanted to know what exactly happened.

"Well, I don't know. Everything kind of. Her family's dirt poor, they barely keep up with the payments on this tiny apartment. I know she's got an awful relationship with both her parents and she practically has to raise her brother and sister. I think she's got some other problems too. I don't know..."

"Like what?" Cosette prodded. She still didn't have the full answer she wanted.

"Well she has a drinking problem for sure. And I don't know, maybe she's got some kind of mental thing." He sighed.

"Like depression?" She asked gravely.

"Maybe. Poor girl, never catches a break." It suddenly hit him them how she must've felt when he was rude to her or neglectful. The poor girl just wanted a friend in her lonely life and he could not even give her that. All he gave her was false hope and disappointment. He looked down, guilty.

"That's horrible..." Cosette breathed. She couldn't believe what had become of the lucky, spoiled, pretty girl she used to live with. She had barely recognized her when she'd seen her earlier. She'd become so thin, and so short it looked as if she hadn't grown much more than a few inches in those few years. She had dark bags under her sad eyes and a permanent expression of sorrow. Her depressing face was surrounded by thin, matted, tangled mousy brown hair. Her whole being just gave off a sad, desperate air. Meanwhile, Cosette had grown into a beautiful young woman. She had thick, silky and long wavy chestnut hair. It framed her beautiful porcelain face perfectly, her big blue eyes and stunning smile. Everything about Cosette was light, happiness, goodness.

"I know. I wish I could help her more."

Éponine walked quickly but unsurely with her fists clenched, still bitter about the encounter with Marius. Montparnasse stopped her in the street.

"Ép!" He greeted, gesturing for her to stop.

"What do you want?" She spat.

"Why so vile? God, Ép. I haven't even said anything."

"Fine, sorry. Go on." She rolled her eyes.

He studied her face for a second. "Rough day?"

She sighed defeatedly. "yes. Horrible."

"Oh no, Ép. What happened?" He asked sympathetically, leading her to a secluded alley and sitting down, gesturing for her to do the same. She sat next to him.

"Like you said, Marius is ruining everything." She groaned, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Aw, I'm sorry." He comforted, "I know how much you like him." He added somewhat bitterly.

"And I saw him with his perfect little girlfriend. And then he yelled at me." She whimpered, perhaps exaggerating a little, as Marius had never raised his voice.

"Ugh. What did he yell at you for?"

"Being drunk. I don't know."

"What an asshole," Mont cooed. Éponine nodded in agreement. He could sense she didn't feel like talking anymore. They sat in silence, her head on his shoulder and him rubbing her hand soothingly, for a while. This lasted until she realized what she was doing. She needed to stop, Mont was the one ruining her chances.

"I've got to go..." She said half-heartedly. She really didn't want to, when she thought about it.

"Éponine?" He asked timidly.

"Yeah?"

"How do I put this? Well, I, um..."

"Spit it out, Mont."

"You're really pretty." He whispered, hoping this would get his point across.

"Not funny, smart ass." She scoffed, deciding she did want to leave and storming off.

Mont hung back defeatedly. He hadn't meant it as some kind of cruel joke. He really thought that. And he had now come to terms with the fact that he liked Éponine that way.