On My Own 2

disclaimer: I sadly do not own Les Mis. in form of book or musical. All hail Victor Hugo.

Author note: Sorry for the delay, I was kinda is Korea, and then my comp. kinda got spyware over load, curse you spy are. But hey, thanx all for the reviews. I think Eponine is turning more like herself now, enjoy it while it lasts, she's soon to go homicidal-ish-ness. Thanx all. Bye.

Anata: you are not allowed to guess and you got it wrong anyway, ha.

'Wrench!'

Eponine felt a stinging in at her face where the man struck her, her hand immediately cupping her cheek. Anger rose within her as she muttered apologies to her customer and watched him leave the room. She had the job of a prostitute, the only job that was always available, for over two years now, and every day she hated it more. And yet she repressed it, she repressed it all in the name of the days bread.

She slowly picked herself up and gathered the clothes to leave. The local Harlem, where she first worked had been better, at least there was always a place for her, and she didn't have to 'look for a catch.' Then she turned ugly, before she had been skinny, dirty, and plain, but most in such hardship were. Now she was ugly and there were younger, prettier, equally desperate girls out on the streets. It wasn't long before she was replaced, and out on the streets for her living.

She made her way to a small bar at the corner of a street.

'Fucking bastard, you'd think he was a count the way he's so damn pompous,' she muttered sitting down at her usual seat.

'What's up now?' a young bartender came up and fills a cup with cheap wine, her usual order. He wasn't very tall, had a mass of dark hair that sat on his head like a bird's nest and worked like a squirrel, quickly running from place to place, always running about with a little cheeky grin on his face.

'Nothing that concerns you, Didier, just give me my drink.'

'Anything for a customer,' he smirked and handed over the cup. They got to know each other to some degree, Eponine ad Didier, never to the point of where either would call the other a friend, but they were more than just acquaintances.

Eponine drank quickly. It wasn't a matter of trying to get drunk, her tolerance for alcohol was too high for that, but it definitely had a numbing effect that gave a bit of relief. She pushed her glass toward Didier.

'Don't drink so fast, you'll get sick.'

Eponine glared at him, 'I know what I'm doing. I'm not a child.'

'Of course.'

Still she started to drink the second slower, having had neither breakfast or lunch and it wasn't a good idea to chug on an empty stomach.

'Good day, Eponine. I didn't expect to find you here.'

She turned to the man who just sat down next to her. He was a tall man, in the middle of his twenties, handsome and well dressed.

'Francois? Why in a bar at this hour?' She usually didn't speak to her customers in such a fashion, but Francois was different. Well off bourgeoisie that he was, he never showed it still being one of the people of the street. He won the place by being able to marry his way in, not my birth or of his own work. He had tried, he had studied and worked, but to no avail. Had he been a woman perhaps he would have turned haughty and disdainful of the lifestyle he had escaped, but as a man he remained humble with his so-called 'accomplishment', if not when given the chance a bit vulgar. Everyone knew this from his class, his wife and her people were for the moment oblivious.

'My wife....' Francois signaled for wine. His wife was a sensitive matter, he had charmed her for obvious reasons, but never reciprocated any of the passion she felt for him, 'Is with child.'

After a moment of silence, both Eponine and Didier started to laugh.

'It's really not a laughing matter.'

'Oh, but it is,' Didier poured some wine, one of more refined taste than what he used to have, 'The idea of my old play mate becoming a father.'

'And my customer, coming home to a babe,' Eponine added.

'Well, I could count the number of times I've slept with my wife with my two hands. How is it you haven't conceived?'

Eponine became silent, and her face hard.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that...'

'I have, but you can't very well do this job with a child in your belly,' she finished her drink, 'But more important matters. Are you in the mood?'

Francois stared at his drink then finished the rest in one swing, 'Let's go. I need a lay.'

He quickly paid Didier who was still snickering as the two left the tavern.

'What's with the gathering in that cafe?' Eponine asked absentmindedly.

Francois glanced over at the window and turned away uninterested, 'Some self-proclaimed "revolutionaries." They plan to change the world into a better place for themselves, so I here. Naive little thought.'

'Nice little thought,' Eponine sighed.

There was a silence as Francois gave Eponine a speculative glance then went back to drinking.

'What? It is.'

'Oh, no I agree whole-heartedly it's a nice thought,' Francois sighed, 'But change doesn't happen in a day. Sometimes people try to change things and it only adds to make things worse, it's like trying to fix something and fixing it, but making more problems. Like the French Revolution, right after they take out the king and queen everything was supposed to be fine, but it wasn't. It was the Reign of Power that was next.'

Eponine thought for a moment, trying to figure out what little she knew of history through conversation she over heard from the customer's of their former inn and her father.

'But after things did get better, Napoleon was in power.'

Francois scoffed, 'And then what happened, Waterloo happened.'

Eponine knew this one, or heard enough of it anyway. She nodded, 'But it's still better than before he came.'

'I'm not explaining this right,' he took another swing of wine, 'I'm not talking about long terms like that. I mean us, as people, as individuals. Those school boys can do as they wish and have there revolution or whatever, but for us what will it do? Nothing but perhaps inconvenience with the law. Oh, I'm still not explaining it right.

'How can I make it clear.'

He paced back and forth for a moment, 'I for one was born to be miserable. I try to change it with education, with strife, with my sweat and blood, but in the end I get my reward with of all things charm. And even with that I'm miserable with a woman who all but takes me to the brink of insanity.'

'You have a house, food, and warmth.'

Francois stopped pacing.

'See, I'm still not doing this right. Not only am I miserable I'm incoherent. What I mean is.... Some things are meant the way they are. Our lives are too short to make any real change or have any real permanence. Ah, I have it.

'Think of our life as a river.'

Eponine nodded.

'Now whatever that way that river flows it's going to flow, oh sure you can build a damn or make a canal or something, but it takes time and energy and all. You are but a simple leaf of a twig swept away in that river.

'It's best to flow with that current of life then make a futile effort to change it.'

Eponine thought hard about this, thinking wasn't part of her vocation.

'Because that's like trying to flow upstream?'

'Exactly,' Francois looked triumphant.

'Even if the current of the river is misery or poverty or something worse?'

'There you've got it girl.'

Eponine sighed and got up, 'I suppose it's true but I must leave. You pay well, but I still have more to do.'

Francois nodded and waved a good bye.

"Best to keep with the current," Eponine was contemplating hard on Francois's words. They seemed so morbid, but true. Nothing changed for people, they were born in a place and they stayed there. Oh certain things changed, Francois was the prime example, even herself.

Back in the days she could hardly remember, but still when she checked the over all feeling of her past and compared with her present, it was the same. The current was her life was the same and always will be.

Lost in thought and paying little attention to where she was going she was startled when she bumped into someone as she turned a corner. Anger filled her once again taking her back to the mood had been before having her drinks at the bar. She muttered something under the breath.

'I'm sorry, mademoiselle. Are you alright?'

Eponine looked up at the voice and immediately her emotions were replaced with something else, something she had never felt before.

'Ahh...' She blushed, tentatively reaching for the hand the young man held out to her. As she rose she kept staring at the beautiful being in front of her.

'Are you alright?' He asked again.

'Ah, oui. Merci, Monsieur...'

'Marius Pontmercy.' Her sentence had trailed off and he mistook it for her asking for a name.

'Eponine,' she said softly.

Marius nodded and started to walk away to wherever it was he first intended to go. Eponine still watched as he went away until he turned a corner out of her sight.

"Monsieur Pontmercy," Eponine thought, "that is his name. If there ever was any being more beautiful, more charming surely I would die upon encounter by its radiance."

"Marius, Marius," she repeat this name over and over, envisioning that handsome face in her mind again and again, "My first love, Marius."

It wasn't until a sudden chilly wind blew that she awoke for her reverie reminded of why she was wandered somewhat aimlessly in the streets that she remembered who she was and the reality of her life.

"That's right. The current of the river is solitude. I'm to be on my own, nothing else."