Sorry if this took too long. Probably not going to be the best chapter, as I'm really just buying time for poor Grantaire. These middle chapters may probably include lots of Macbeth quotes purely because it's my favorite drama.


"He has killed me, mother. Run away, I pray you!" Éponine always found this scene far too hard to watch. Every time she saw it, Gavroche took the place of the small, witty child dying on center stage. Most of the time she envisioned her own mother as the heartless mother of the child; however, the days it scared her the most were the days she saw herself.

"Murder! Murder! Murder!" Lady Macduff's screams broke Éponine's thoughts. Just as well. Those particular thoughts weren't worth brooding over. Grantaire strode over to Éponine as she leaned against one of the 2x4's that supported the set and yanked on her braid.

Secretly grateful for Grantaire's intervention, Éponine snapped immediately into character. "Better watch out, dearest husband," she whispered so the director would not hear her. "Remember, I'm still filled from the crown to the toe-top full of direst cruelty."

Grantaire leaned against the wall facing her. "What, is this a dagger I see before mine eyes?" He desperately wanted to finish the line. Had he been drunk, he might have. The fact of the matter was, Grantaire had not had a single drink since the night he spoke to Enjolras.

"The handle toward your hand." Éponine stood up, bringing her just a bit closer to him.

"Come, let me clutch thee!" For the first time in his immediate memory, Grantaire's better judgement was victorious over his usual judgement. He wanted to say it. Not just say it, but scream it. Make sure there was no way on Earth she didn't hear him. "Since when are you allowed to say my lines?" He almost choked on saying it. He wasn't even sure if it was what he was supposed to say, and definitely sure it wasn't what he wanted to say. The words came out anyway, and there was no way to take them back.

"Your lines, my lines, what does it matter when the director can't see us? What happens backstage stays backstage." Grantaire blushed hard. Realizing this, Éponine took a step back and silently cursed herself for embarrassing him. "Hail king of Scotland," she barely muttered before ducking away. Grantaire, heartbroken, slid down the wall until he hit the floor and let his head rest on his knees. A man dressed in all black sitting in the dark - who would see him? Not that that would matter anyway. What happens backstage stays backstage.


Éponine raced back to her dorm after practice without giving anyone else a second glance. She needed to apologize to Grantaire, but that was neither the place nor the time to do it. Also, a small part of her wanted some advice from either Cosette or Marius. While she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to talk to Marius right away, at least he would know partially how she could deal with the problem she had created for herself. When Éponine got to her dorm, there was a note on her bed, written in Cosette's perfect script. "Sorry I couldn't warn you ahead of time: Marius asked me to dinner and I don't know when I'll be back. Don't wait for me. ~Cosette"

Perhaps it was for the better. Neither Marius nor Cosette needed Éponine's drama right now. She would just have to sort this out for herself. She set out on the path she could have traced in her sleep. Éponine, she knew her way around. When she arrived at Grantaire's door, she did not even knock. "Grantaire? Enjolras?"

"Become quite the frequent here, haven't you?" A tiny smile played at the corner of Enjolras' mouth. Not that he would let Éponine see; he was far too busy with his essays.

"Enjolras, could you let Grantaire know I was here? And where is he?"

"You tell me. I haven't seen him all day. You guys had a Macbeth rehearsal, didn't you?" Éponine choked out a yes. Enjolras still did not turn around, and addressed his desk as if it were her. "What did he do now?"

"Nothing. I- oh, you wouldn't care. You always have better things to do."

While Éponine was right, Enjolras could not help but try to prove her wrong. "Try me. Didn't I say I cared about you both?"

Éponine sighed as Enjolras motioned for her to sit down. "Enjolras, I've loved Marius forever and a day."

"I gathered. Didn't you say you had to fix him up with your roommate?"

"I never said that much..."

"Must've been Grantaire. Go on."

"While I was sitting at the coffee shop trying to deal with Marius rejecting me, Grantaire started flirting with me, only I didn't recognize him." Enjolras snorted. "Shut up. Anyway, I got kind of mad when I realized who it was, so I started flirting with him today at practice to tease him. He got really embarrassed, so I told him it would stay backstage and then he stopped talking to me. Or anyone for that matter."

Enjolras was dumbfounded. He had always thought it was impossible, but here she was. Someone who was more blind to other people's emotions than he was. She impressed, disgusted, enraged, intrigued, and amused him all at once. "I'll tell Grantaire you came."

"Thank you Enjolras. This was nice. You're nice, when you indulge your human side."

It was in that moment Enjolras realized the root of the word irony: it could crush like an iron weight. Not only it could, but at the moment, it was.


Okay, so it will probably be a while before I get the next chapter up. This time I'm serious. Apparently the doc manager isn't working at the moment. Until I figure out what's wrong with it as well as why Enjolras has more emotions than Éponine, happy Easter!