Enjolras left the motel early in the morning; early enough that he did not see Charla and Grantaire checking in. Blissfully unaware he made his way back to his shared home feeling sore and content. A little smile quirked on his lips, and for the first time in a long time he felt something resembling happiness. After catching a few more hours of sleep, he made his way to Feuilly's where he had his first shift of the morning.
"Well don't you look cheery," Feuilly said with a smile.
Enjolras ducked his head.
Before anything else could be said, the bell rang signaling the entrance of their delivery boy. What a bicycle-tourist shop/garden shop/ gift shop had to deliver was a bit unclear, but when Gavroche Thenardier had come searching for a job Feuilly couldn't turn the boy away. He gave the young man lots of odd tasks that had him running errands all over town. And once school was out, he would probably start helping out more in the shop. It was good honest work, which wasn't something that could be said for the majority of the Thenardier family.
"Good morning, and how are you today?" Feuilly asked Gavroche as the teen approached them.
Gavroche smirked, and then too casually he began,"alright, but my sister seemed hella pissed this morning."
"What did I say about that kind of language in my shop," Feuilly said raising an eyebrow.
Gavroche rolled his eyes. "Right, sorry dad."
Feuilly chuckled. "Why's Miss Eponine upset this time?"
"Cause R and Charla moved out." Then in a conspiratorial whisper, "to the B&B."
"I thought Grantaire was staying with his parents," Enjolras said with a frown.
"Oh he was," Gav said clearly enjoying the drama of it all, "but Helene and Charla had some big argument. They ended up at our place, until Eponine suggested that Charla shorten her guest list. Then Charla got hella pis… angry. I guess they moved out this morning cause when I woke up, all their shi- stuff was gone. 'Ponine seems really annoyed at Charla."
Feuilly frowned. "Don't you have school today?"
Gav rolled his eyes again, Enjolras guessed that it was a habit he had picked up from Eponine. "Duh. I just wanted to check if anything needed to be done before I go."
Feuilly smirked. He knew that Gavroche had only stopped in to gossip. "We don't need anything Gav. Better hurry, or you'll be late to class."
"Ugh, yes dad." Gavroche groaned.
"Don't forget that I'll be stopping by tonight to tutor you," Feuilly reminded gently.
Gavroche rolled his eyes, again, but he was smiling. "Whatever."
"Stop by after school, I'm sure I'll find some jobs for you," Feuilly added.
His smile grew into a grin. "Thanks Feuilly. Bye Enj! See you guys later."
Gavroche sprinted out the door. After all he was going to be late.
Enjolras couldn't help but laugh at the youngest Thenardier. "That boy loves being in the middle of everything."
"Can you blame him?" Feuilly was smiling fondly. "He was pushed to the fringes of his family by his parents. I bet the only way he got their attention was through outlandish stories. He probably didn't even know what a parent was til Eponine took him away from them."
Enjolras nodded thoughtfully. He remembered only last year when Eponine had left her parents, taking Gav with her. There had been quite a commotion about town, but everyone figured it was for the best. "They're lucky to have gotten the mill house."
Feuilly nodded. "Yes that was fortuitous I agree. I'm just sorry that R had to leave. I know how fond Gav is of him."
Enjolras grew somber. "That fiancee of his is certainly something."
Feuilly looked at Enjolras curiously. Slowly he said, "Perhaps we should get back to work."
Enjolras nodded, eager for a distraction. The two men threw themselves into taking inventory and cleaning up the shelves. It was early, and no one was in on a Wednesday morning, so they had no qualms about opening a little late. It was good work, however it did not demand much of Enjolras' attention and so his thoughts were free to wander. He couldn't help but wonder what Charla had done to upset Helene. As far as he knew, Grantaire's mother was a pretty easy going woman. He didn't have to wonder for long, because soon enough the older woman came into Feuilly's shop. She hadn't seen him yet, so he simply listened as she chatted with Feuilly.
"'Morning, Helene. I wasn't expecting you back so soon," Feuilly greeted the woman kindly.
Helene smiled thinly. "Yes, well my flowers were trampled so I've come for replacements."
"Trampled?" Feuilly sounded concerned.
"Mmm," Helene nodded. "It was my charming new daughter-in-law. We've had a bit of a disagreement."
"So I heard," Feuilly confessed.
"Does everyone know?" Helene despaired.
"Hardly. It was only Gav Thenardier. He stopped in to tell us that R and his fiancee have moved to the B&B." Feuilly said, helping Helene pick up her selection of potted daisies.
"That woman," sighed Helene. "I was so excited when he announced that he was bringing his fiancee home… of course then I didn't know what a bitch she was."
Enjolras was shocked. He had never heard R's mother talk this way.
"Did you know she made fun of Grantaire for attempting suicide? I cannot believe the insensitivity," Helene's eyes were filled with angry tears. Feuilly looked sick.
"Grantaire tried to kill himself?" Enjolras voice was thick, his throat tightening.
Helene whipped around to see Enjolras standing behind the checkout counter. Her eyes widened. "Oh, Enj. He didn't tell you?"
"Did he tell you?"
Helene dropped her eyes. "No. It was a horrible way to find out. Her screaming at him like that… I thought he might have told you. I know you two have been hanging out a little bit now that he's-"
"We don't talk." Enjolras felt shame flood through his body. He had always been unwilling to engage R in meaningful conversation. They had shared awkward pleasantries and even awkwarder glances. That was it. It was all Enjolras would allow. Getting to know Grantaire now was too much of a painful option. He regretted not talking more with Grantaire. What other secrets did he have?
"Oh, I thought you must… you see R was saying it has been good seeing you again… getting to reconnect? I though you must have talked. That you might have told him the truth?" Helene said, hinting at the past.
Remorse and guilt mixed with his shame, making his fingers tingle. "There would be no good in telling him about that. Not now. It's too late, Helene."
"Don't let him enter a loveless marriage. I'm afraid he will no longer listen to Augustin or me," Helene sounded desperate.
"Why would he listen to me?" Enjolras asked.
"He loves you."
"Loved," Enjolras corrected.
Helene peered at him, frowning. "He could again."
"No. I don't think he could. Will that be all? $14.50."
Helene looked disappointed, but she picked up her potted flowers and left. Feuilly was left watching with concern. Recently Enjolras had been a little off at the meetings. Perhaps this was why.
Enjolras finished his shift working diligently, but silently. He barely made eye contact with Feuilly as he was determined to not talk about all the things Helene had brought up. He was frightened that Grantaire had tried to kill himself, and ashamed that he hadn't been there for his friend. He was also afraid of what Grantaire might say to him, if he confessed his secret. What the other would think if he revealed that he was still in love with his high school sweetheart. God, how pathetic was he? He had promised himself he wouldn't be one of those guys trapped in their hometown with no future, reliving the past. What a joke that was. He had to see Felix again. Tonight.
Just like clockwork, when Enjolras arrived at his shift at the Musain, he found Grantaire already waiting for him. The man was always there, no matter how clear Enjolras was.
"Enjolras, we need to talk," Grantaire started.
"No. We don't," lied Enjolras, pushing his way past the brunet.
"Please. It's important."
"I'm at work, R. I can't just stop because you're here. Besides, shouldn't you be with your fiancee?" Enjolras sneered.
Grantaire stepped away, a hurt look on his face. "Don't talk about Charla like that."
"Like what?"
"Like everyone else is. I thought you were better than that, Enjolras."
Enjolras looked at his shoes. He took a deep breath in through his nose, blowing it out through pursed lips. "I am sorry." He meant it.
R shoulders drooped, his defenses falling. "She's in New York again with Ep. They're looking at bridesmaid dresses, I think."
"Sounds like torture," Enjolras joked lightly.
Grantaire smiled, they were back in familiar territory. "I know. Thank god they didn't ask me to come with. I know I'm supposed to be an artist, but I can't tell the difference between canary yellow and buttercup yellow to save my life."
The two men let out relieved laughs; the tension momentarily dissipated.
"Look, I really do have to work." Enjolras confessed. "But… I think we need to talk."
Grantaire nodded. "Tonight?"
"I've got plans." Enjolras hastily said.
Grantaire nodded. "I understand. Going to see your mother?"
"No. I'm actually visiting a friend," Enjolras said carefully.
"I see. Well your mother misses you, she says it's been awhile?" Grantaire asked.
"How do you know that?"
"I've been trying to visit her more often. We chat about life and death, things like that. She told me you haven't visited in awhile. I think she's afraid that you're mad at her for something," R said softly.
Enjolras' anger rolled away as swiftly as it had come. "I have been ignoring her, you're right… It just hurts to be there."
"It'll hurt more knowing you weren't there when she needed you."
Grantaire's reply was so soft that Enjolras had almost missed it. He stared at the artist wondering what had happened to the boy he had loved so dearly, to make him so wise.
"Thank you, R. I'll go see her as soon as I can."
Grantaire gave a sad smile. "I'll have a coffee. Black."
Enjolras nodded, before leaving for the kitchens. Although Enj was at work, he made more of an effort to stop by R's booth and chat with him. Today the artist had brought a sketchbook and colored pens. He was staring at his sketches with a look of annoyance.
"Trouble?" Enjolras asked on his fourth time passing the booth.
"I've got this huge showcase coming up, but none of these seem right." R gestured to the sketches he had torn out of the book. The pages were covered in broad strokes of harsh colors, contrasting so much from the sketches he had shown Jeanne. They were modern, and foreign. Enjolras couldn't put his finger on what it was about them that made him twinge.
Enjolras frowned. "I don't know if you want advice-"
"I'll take anything," Grantaire said, perhaps a bit too desperately.
"They just don't seem like you, R. I don't know. Maybe New York changed you… but this just doesn't seem like your style. Whenever you're here sketching you're always drawing people, or things. I just don't see you in this abstract style." Enjolras said slowly.
Grantaire smiled. "You're right. My heart has never really been into this approach. Charla just said I should try it, and they've been selling."
Enjolras' brow furrowed at the name of R's fiancee, however he didn't let the other see his moment of discomfort. "I know I'm not an artist, but shouldn't art be about self expression rather than selling out?"
Grantaire's eyes shone brightly as he appraised Enjolras as if seeing him for the first time.
"I've said too much," Enjolras began to hastily backpedal.
"No. I think I needed to hear that." Grantaire said quietly. "I should go. I've got three large canvases that aren't going to paint themselves."
"Don't listen to my advice. I really don't know anything about art," Enjolras said sheepishly.
Grantaire shook his head. "No, I think you know plenty."
For the first time in ages, they parted on good terms. Grantaire hurried back to his parents' where the three canvases were being stored along with his paints. Charla had insisted he work on his art while they were here as he wouldn't have time during their honeymoon. He was glad that she had convinced him to bring the triptych. It was to be the centerpiece of his showcase, and for the longest time he had stressed about how he was going to fill the massive canvases. For the first time in ages, he had his creative spark back.
"R? What are you doing here?" Helene asked with pleasant surprise. The woman was currently transplanting her new flowers into the garden.
"Do you mind if I do some painting here? There's no way I'd be able to do so at the Thenardier's," R asked.
Helene grinned. "Of course not. Your things are still in the garden house."
"Thanks maman," Grantaire kissed his mother on the cheek as he rushed past her.
Helene smiled. Something was changing.
In the garden house sat five large canvases. Three of which were 12x36 and two which were 24x36. For so long the white stretched canvas had intimidated him, but now he knew what he needed to do. He pulled out his phone and began dialing. Before his eyes he could envision the canvases coming to life.
"Hello?" a woman's voice answered on the first ring.
"M?"
"R?! It's been ages! How is the wedding planning going?"
"I actually wanted to talk to you about something else," Grantaire started. "Do you think you and the boys could come a week earlier. I understand-"
"Of course! We'd love to come as soon as possible," the woman's voice was vibrant with excitement. "What's up?"
"How would you feel being a model for one of my paintings?" Silence on the other side of the line. "Musichetta? Are you still there?"
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" squealed the woman.
R laughed. "Hell no. I would never joke about my art."
"I thought you weren't doing portraits anymore," Musichetta said.
"I've had a change of heart. I want to go back to doing some Romanticism and Neoclassical stuff. So will you do it?" R asked anxiously.
Musichetta beamed. "I'd love to."
"I've got to make some rough sketches when you come, and I know things will be crazy with the wedding-"
"Relax, R. I already said I would do it, didn't I?" Musichetta's laugh rung through the phone. "Ooh this will be so fun. I can't wait to meet your childhood friends! And your sister! I've heard so much about her."
Grantaire's smile mirrored her, even though they were miles apart. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his New York friends. "Can't wait til you get here."
"Muah~" Musichetta made a kissing noise. "I'll have to talk to you later. Joly just got back. I'll let you know when we're coming."
"See you soon," Grantaire said fondly, and then the line was dead.
He then called Eponine, hoping she would pick up.
"Now's not a great time R," she sounded annoyed.
"Look I know you're looking at dresses," began R trying to mollify her.
"Not looking at, trying them on. And Christ they are hideous." Eponine frowned. "Who thinks yellow dresses are attractive? And this ruffle, with those sleeves?! God. Even I could design better."
R cringed. "I've got an important request. Is Charla around?"
"No."
"Good. I was wondering if you would pose for one of my paintings," R began his request. "It would mean a lot to have you as one of my models."
Eponine's face broke out into a smile. "A real painting, not some Pollock wannabe shit that Charla has had you do?"
R rolled his eyes. "A real painting. I'm thinking Romanticism, possibly Neoclassic?"
"I'm in."
"But you can't tell Charla," R warned. He wasn't sure what his fiancee was going to think, from the change in style to the choices of models… But this was the first spark he had had in ages! He didn't want it to be destroyed before it had begun.
"I like this even more. We'll need to discuss this when we get back. Jesus, R, this dress doesn't look flattering on anyone." Eponine whined.
Grantaire chuckled. "I am sure you are all beautiful."
Eponine's face wrinkled in disgust. "Wait til you meet these women. Ugh, they're calling me out to show them, Christ. Got to go."
Grantaire smiled. Today was going well. He made his final call.
"R?"
"Hey Bi, I've got a request for you," Grantaire started.
"Sure. Hold on let me go into another room." Pause. Then, "What's up?"
"I was wondering if it was at all possible for you to get an earlier flight? I want to use you as a model for one of my paintings, and would love to sketch you as soon as possible."
"Funny you should say that," Bianca laughed. "Floreal and I have booked a flight about a week earlier. We're flying home in a week or so."
Grantaire's smile split his face. "I can't wait to see you, Bianca. So will you do it? Pose for my painting?"
"Of course. How could I say no to my big brother?" Bianca replied.
"And I can't wait to meet your girlfriend," Grantaire tacked on.
"Ugh, are you going to be this embarrassing when we come?" Bianca moaned.
"Of course that's my job." Grantaire huffed.
"No, that's dad's job. You're supposed to be on my side." Bianca countered.
"Well maybe I'll side with papa on this one."
"Fine, but I'm telling all your fancy New York friends about the time you skateboarded into a fence because a cute boy was around." Bianca was of course referring to the time Grantaire had first seen Enjolras.
"Then I'm telling your fancy French girlfriend about all the times we played pretend and you insisted on being the prince," Grantaire said raising a brow.
"That is an endearing story, brother mine, and more embarrassing for you since you were the princess." Bianca replied flippantly.
Grantaire smiled. He could never say anything against his sister. "Touche."
"Look I gotta go, Floreal's almost done with dinner. I'll see you in two weeks!" Bianca said hanging up the phone.
Grantaire had a grin on his face. He wandered away from the garden house back to his parents. Augustin was sitting outside by his wife reading a book. Helene was still by her garden, only now she was weeding.
"Maman?"
"Hm?" she said without looking up.
"Could you pose for one of my paintings?"
Helene stared at her son. "Me?"
"Yes."
"I am too old," she scoffed.
"Please?" Grantaire begged.
"No. I am not pretty enough. Get one of your model friends in New York to do it."
"You are beautiful, maman. I want you to do it."
"You should do it, Helene." Augustin added softly.
They both turned to look at him to find he had put his book down. "I-I can't. No one would want to buy a painting of an old woman."
"You're not old, maman." R rolled his eyes. "And art isn't about who will buy it. It's self expression."
Augustin gave his son a slow nod, before turning to his wife. "He is right you know."
Helene smiled. "I know. He is such a clever boy. Very well, Grantaire I will do it."
"Thank you, maman!" Grantaire gave her a kiss on the cheek. "By any chance do you know the number for the hospital?"
Helene gave her son a strange look before telling him where to find it in the directory.
Jeanne was currently reading an old book Enjolras had brought to her months ago. She hadn't wanted to read it for the longest time, but she had accepted that perhaps she should at least start it. She had only made it into the first chapter when the phone by her bed rang.
"Hello?" she answered uncertainly.
"There is a Grantaire wanting to speak with you on the phone. Are you up for the call?" the orderly spoke clearly into the phone.
Jeanne eagerly agreed. The young man was transferred. "Hello, Grantaire."
"Hi Jeanne. I have an odd request for you."
"What is it?"
"I was wondering if you would pose for a painting for my winter showcase." Grantaire started.
"No."
"Look I could come by and do the sketches, and even paint it there-"
"I said no." Jeanne replied softly.
"May I ask why not?" R asked.
"I am sick, Grantaire. Art is meant to be beautiful. No one wants to see a painting of a dying woman." Jeanne replied matter-of-factly. Grantaire was beginning to see where Enjolras had picked up his pragmatism.
"Art doesn't have to be beautiful, have you even seen some of Bosch's stuff? Plus there's plenty of paintings depicting death. For example all those Renaissance paintings of Jesus? Besides, Jeanne, you are beautiful. And I know you're sick, but it would mean a lot to me if you would." Grantaire stated.
Jeanne frowned. "For this painting… would you be painting me as an invalid?"
"No." Grantaire replied strongly. "I want to portray strong women, and you're one of the strongest I know."
"Will you paint my hair? How it would look if I hadn't lost it all?" Jeanne request was meek, as if she was expecting a rebuke.
Grantaire's heart broke. "If that is what you wish."
"Truly?"
"If that is what would make you comfortable, Jeanne, I will do it. I want you in the most honest, truthful light. You as you. I don't care if that means I need to add a third eye or fifth appendage, I'll do it." joked Grantaire.
Jeanne laughed her light airy laugh that he had begun to adore. "Very well, Grantaire. I will pose for you. But I'm afraid you will have to come here."
Grantaire beamed. "Not a problem. Thank you, Jeanne."
"Does Enjolras know?"
"No."
"Do you want it kept a secret?"
"For now, yes."
"Very well, since you have been so accommodating to my wishes, I will accommodate to yours. And R?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you for coming to visit me. It's been nice to have a friendly face here," Jeanne confessed.
"Of course. I'll be by as soon as I can."
Artists/Time periods referenced: Neoclassical- (c. 1750-1830) inspiration drawn from the "classics" (Greece and Rome). Famous painters: Anton Raphael Mengs, Jaques-Louis David, Angelica Kauffmann, and Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres
Jackson Pollock- (1912-56) major figure in the abstract, expressionist movement. Known for unique drip style paintings
Hieronymus Bosch- (1450's-1516) known for fantastic imagery, detailed landscapes and illustrations of religious concepts/narratives. Also not the most aesthetically pleasing artist (don't get me wrong, I still love his works.)
Romanticism- (c. 1800-1850) characterized by its emphasis on emotion and individualism as well as glorification of all the past and nature, preferring the medieval rather than the classical. Famous painters: Theodore Gericault, Eugene Delacroix, and Francisco Goya
Your support means so much to me. I hope you leave a comment though. Those make my day! I've provided a bit of background for the art and styles which R refers to in case you would like to research them more. I have finally completed my outline for this story and within the next two or so chapters thing should begin to pick up and get more dramatic! Update next weekend, see y'all then :) ~T.W.o.W.