Of course she took their orders though. It was obligation, she was at work. After pottering about for a little bit, listening in on the conversations the sickeningly happy couple were having, Eponine tried her very hardest to hate the woman. Her name was Cosette, or at least that's what she recalled him calling her. But she seemed so pure, so innocent and oblivious to every bad thing happening in the world that all Eponine could do was pity her slightly. If they had sat down together and all conversed, she's sure that the sumptuous woman would probably grow on her over time and they'd maybe even become friends. But Eponine doubted that a person of such wealth would even give her the time of day.
Enough 'Ponine. Forget about them, get on with your shift. Which is what she did for the next few hours. After Marius and Cosette left, It was rather quiet in the small cafe. What time was it anyway, surely soon- Her trail of thought was interrupted by the loud burst of sound from the Les Amis' stumbling in, shouting words at each other as they laughed.
She visibly jumped before getting down from her seat and crossing the room, maneuvering her way around the many tables, until she had reached the group- now seated. Marius was here again, but this time alone. All of the other regulars appeared to be there too. The boy with long hair almost as beautiful as the wealthy ladies, decorated with flowers, the boy who was never seen without a bottle in his hand, the medical student who always faffed with everyone, the raven haired boy with that constant smile, and then the man who Eponine suspected was the leader. Everyday he'd wear the most bright shade of red, as if to announce his presence to everyone around him. Not in a way for selfish attention, but for whatever cause it was the Les Amis helped. You could always hear the sound of a speech or lecture coming from the mans mouth. She didn't doubt that half of the group found some of his words boring- like his speech on how people shouldn't support high street coffee shops like Starbucks, and that this cafe was saving the economy-, but everyone was always listening, captivated by his passion and grace with words. Fire always seemed to stir in his fierce blue eyes when he spoke, emphasized by the thick blonde curls that curved round his face, perhaps a little too long than most would keep before getting a hair cut. He'd continue his speeches for hours, only being interrupted every now and then by the drunks words. Though for the majority of the time, he was right.
The man, name now revealed to be Enjolras, was passionate and well spoken, but some of the things he reached for were unrealistic. She realized that she'd been stood by the couch for quite some time now, simply deducing all of the men, and hadn't even taken anyones orders yet. Though no one seemed to care too much, all of them turning to her to flash a heart melting smile and a slight wave. A quiet chorus of hellos, and heys, came from the group, to which Eponine just smiled and held out her notepad and began to write down the orders she knew by heart anyway. When she returned to the group, 2 trays of hot beverages very carefully balanced on the palms of her hands, she overheard a certain speech which got her attention.
"We still live in a day and age, where people are separated because of their wealth. Perhaps not intentionally, but the continuing fact that the rich continue to get richer, whilst the poor poorer, Is definitely no proof that things are getting better." As he trailed on into details of how this effected everyone in society, Eponine scoffed- provoking curiosity from the leader. "You disagree? Please, do tell me what you think." He spoke, placing his hands on his hips as he raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly from where he stood on the table, which Eponine soon mirrored. "It's not that I disagree with what you say, It's just I don't think that this effects you or that you have any idea what it's like to be in the bottom 10%. In no disrespect, you are all quite wealthy people. How would you know what it's like to be the poor getting poorer?" She asked, unaware of just why this was angering her enough to continue this debate. The group of men began to turn to each other mumbling something whilst Enjolras didn't even falter in the slightest.
"We never claimed to have experienced impoverishment. Nor are any of us really that deprived- except for perhaps Grantaire." He struck, waving a hand off in his direction. The drunken man lowered his bottle and for a moment his eyes softened with sadness, but of course only Eponine noticed that. "All that I am attempting to say, is that it is wrong. Poor people shouldn't be getting worse off, they should be working hard. It's ruining the economy." It took all that she had not to jump across the couch and strangle Enjolras in that very moment. "If you stopped to look for a moment, you'd notice that people in poverty, people like me work their asses off daily just so they stay poor and not dead. If you want the economy to change, don't just stand here shouting about it. Do something. You could start by getting rid of that impossibly huge ego." She shouted, furrowing her eyebrows as she turned to walk away.
As she left she cafe, she knew at some point she'd have to return. If she was to go home without her paycheck, she'd get a beating from Monsieur Thénardier. Finding an unoccupied wall outside, she slid down it, kneeling with her back rested against the wall. Lighting up a cigarette, she raised it up to her mouth, taking the first drag before a person came to sit besides her. It was the drunk, the man who Enjolras had called out. "Grantaire, Is it?" She asked turning to him with a slight trace of sympathy in her eyes. His curt nod and slight chuckle confirmed that she was right, and he ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head.
"That was amazing though. What you said. Enjolras can get so fucking carried away with his own idealistic thoughts, that he turns into a total shit." He confessed, his own cigarette lit now. "He doesn't mean to be foul or rude to you, at least I don't think so. That's not his way. He gets what he wants, when he wants it and when he's got such passion, morals disappear." His voice faded away, and he brought the lit stick up to his mouth. It was Eponines turn to say something, but she didn't know what. This man, this cynic, he obviously didn't believe in Enjolras' causes. He must be their for a different motive. Perhaps it was his loyalty towards his friends, it definitely seemed like that mere minutes ago when he was justifying Enjolras' actions. "I understand, I have no problem with that. Preachers, or whatever you call yourselves, they don't get what they want through being polite. But he's shouting about things he doesn't know squat about. If he'd educate himself, If he'd know what it's like to be 'the scum of the street', perhaps he'd not be insisting that we need to work harder." She insisted, flailing her hands in front of her stress-fully.
Grantaire just gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "Enjolras will forever be the oblivious man."