Friday passed too quickly. I explained my situation to abarricadebuilder and he was glad that I was getting away. He wanted to meet up with me, since he lived in the city; we scheduled a date for the week after my arrival, at the Eiffel Tower.

I learnt upon my arrival that the school was co-ed, and that the only two things not co-ed were dorms and bathrooms. But each dorm was nice; I caught a glimpse of one in passing, and I was able to figure out there were two students per room: Two desks, two beds, a large closet, and a bathroom.

The dorm leader was an older man, by the name of Valjean. He was a friendly fellow, it seemed. He informed me that I was in his dorm, which he had named Dorm 24601 just to be the cool dorm leader. Also, he added, that he would be my English teacher.

"So, Grantaire," he said, "you will be rooming in Dorm C, with a boy by the name of Enjolras. Smart boy, very likable and very responsible."

I glanced sidelong at my mother, and she offered a small smile. "This boy sounds nice, chéri."

Valjean knocked on a door, which disrupted my thoughts and brought me back to the real world. I noticed the name Enjolras on the door, and my name directly under it. Above both names was the number three, followed by the letter 'c.' After a beat, the door opened.

Sacré bleu.

This Enjolras boy was utterly gorgeous. His hair, a dirty blonde colour, was wavy and perhaps a bit longer than mine. Laugh lines on either side of his mouth proved to me he spoke often, and hopefully he was cheerful and laughed often. Those captivating eyes of his were blue, and immediately I noticed an adventurous glint in them that I found very attractive. He was a very attractive young man, in my eyes.

"Enjolras," Valjean said, rotating a bit so he was at an angle to me and facing Enjolras, "this is your new roommate, Grantaire."

Without pause, Enjolras took my hand in his own and shook it firmly. "Pleasure to meet you, old boy." He smiled at my mère. "And you too, madame. Let me take those bags from you." He took my suitcase and art bag from Maman's hands, stepping back into the room to let me pass.

"I can take it from here, Maman," I told her, turning to face her. "I will call you at least once a week."

She smiled and kissed my cheek. "I hope so. I will miss you, chéri. Take care of yourself, s'il te plait."

"You too, Maman. Je t'aime."

She smiled at my words before walking away with Valjean. Turning and entering the room, I closed the door behind me. I found myself alone with the gorgeous Enjolras.

He smiled at me, and I bit my lip to refrain from saying something stupid. "So, Grantaire. Tell me about yourself?"

And the moment was ruined.

"There is not much to tell," I started. "I am seventeen, and I live with my mère. I never knew my père, he died when I was young. I hope to be an artist, or actor, when I am out of university. I am openly gay, not that you would really care…And I am a fanboy."

He raised an eyebrow at me just before I turned to begin unpacking my belongings.

"A fanboy?" he echoed. "Do you have a tumblr?"

I nodded. "Oui, of course."

"Do you mind if I follow you?"

"Certainly, and I'll follow back. I always do."

"What is your tumblr?"

"Freedomseeker."

I opened my art bag, withdrawing one of my paintings from it, and just as I placed it on the bed I felt a pair of arms around me. At first I just blinked, and in an instant I realised Enjolras was dipping me. There was no time to protest, because as soon as I was entirely dipped his lips were against mine. I hesitated briefly, but then responded by wrapping my arms around his neck and reciprocating the kiss.

When it had ended, much to my chagrin, I found myself panting softly and slightly dazed by the action. My cheeks felt warm and my fingers were clenched and clutching onto his shirt. I gazed up at him, biting my lip.

"You are even more beautiful than I imagined, babe."

I blinked up at him, not saying a word. But then it dawned on me.

"Abarricadebuilder…"

He smiled and kissed me again before setting me upright. His arms, however, remained around my waist; his hold was tight.

"How are you holding up, baby?" he asked. "Nice and strong, I hope? That bruise around your eye is almost healed up."

"I'm fine, Enjolras." It was odd to call him by his real name; I was so used to calling him by his tumblr URL. It was also odd to be held in his arms at long last, but the feeling was welcome and absolutely wonderful. "I'm fine…"

"Your mère slipped me a note, by the way. I read it while you said goodbye. It went to explain that I am to have possession of your razor until you need to shave, and when you do I am to watch you."

I buried my face in his neck at this remark.

"Grantaire, do you…"

I nodded. His hold on me grew a bit tighter.

"Oh, please, please do not continue with it," he pleaded quietly. "If you ever have the urge to do it again, please tell me. We are together now, I will keep you from any harm."

"I am afraid of people," I whispered. "I am scared of what people think of me, I don't think I have any confidence in myself."

"I will make you see yourself the way you should, the way I see you." His hand gently brushed against my cheek. "Forget the others."

I looked up at him, and kissed his jaw. "Je t'aime."

He smiled, raising his hand a little more to move some hair from my face. "You are so very beautiful, mon ange." He kissed me softly, sighing. "It is almost time for dinner, are you hungry?"

"No, but than you," I answered, shaking my head. I was about to continue before he cut me off.

"Then let's go out!"

"Pardon?"

"There is so much for you to see!" He let go of me, running to the closet and taking out a coat. It was red, but it matched his attire very well. "My car is in the lot, if you want to drive. It is most likely faster to walk, but I would like to keep your options open. Driving is usually done when one's legs are sore, or one is too lazy to walk."

I glanced at my bad, then back to him. "On one condition."

He blinked. "Sure, anything."

"When we come back, can we push our beds together?"

He grinned. "Baiser oui!"

I grabbed my coat and pulled it on, and he took my hand. Then he laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Our date next Saturday."

I paused before joining in with his laughter. "We are still going."

He opened the door and pulled me along down the hall. I kept my hand tight in his, feeling my heart skip a bear. I had only just met my boyfriend in person for the first time, and I was already happier than I had ever been in my entire life.

But that didn't change the fact that I still wanted to keep secrets.

"Is there anywhere in particular you want to go to?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Non, not really. But on the way back I do, just to a drugstore or something."

"For…?"

"A little something I need to get by."

He nodded, running a hand across the back of my hand. We walked in a comfortable, almost soothing silence until we made it to the main hall. There was a whistle behind us, and when he turned I did too.

"Where are you off to, Enjolras?"

It was girl, and she was rather beautiful in my eyes. She regarded me with an observant eye, obviously trying to size me up. Perhaps she was attracted to Enjolras.

"I am showing the new boy the city," Enjolras told her, a small smile on his face.

"The new boy, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, showing that she was a bit skeptical of us— of Enjolras's words and my being the new student. "If he is so new, why are you already holding his hand and regarding him with a loving eye?"

"The new boy, my boyfriend of six months." He shrugged, winking at me.

"That's freedomseeker? Mon dieu, Enjolras, he's handsome."

"He's mine, back off," he laughed, draping an arm over me. "Cosette, this is Grantaire. Grantaire, this is is my friend, Cosette."

I bowed my head to her, and she smiled in return.

"He's awfully shy."

"Hush, he has had a rough life."

"Meet me and Marius at the ABC Café?"

Enjolras nodded. "Eight o'clock?"

She nodded back at him. "Oui, that sounds good. Have fun and be sure to use a condom!"

I coughed at that last remark, face flushing. Enjolras's lips gently touched my temple in what I figured was assurance. "She is only joking, baby, I promise."

I nodded my understanding. I love m Enjolras with all of my heart, there was no doubt about that. But as far as love making went, I was not ready and did not exactly wish to put it in my agenda.

"Oh, baby, don't worry about it. I'm not going to pressure you or force you into it. Only when we are both ready for it."

I smiled lightly. "Enjolras, you are just…"

"Mediocre?" he supplied.

I was going to say perfect. "No, that's not the right word!"

"Of course it is! I am such a mediocre man, not yet an adult but no longer a child." He glanced down at me. "A mediocre man with a perfectly imperfect boyfriend."

Enjolras's words made my mind buzz with thoughts. Perfectly imperfect. I wasn't perfectly imperfect, I was imperfectly imperfect. He was perfectly imperfect; at least his faults were accepted by society. My faults were frowned upon by everyone I knew. Naturally I wanted to point out he was wrong, but before I could speak he cut me off with a deep kiss.

This kiss got me thinking more. Right now, Enjolras and I had stopped in the middle of a busy Paris sidewalk to share a kiss. For once in my life, I realised I felt safe. I had no one to fear within my school; the only people I had to be afraid of were those outside of the school. But this was the city of Paris! Parisians, for the most part, were accepting of homosexuals such as myself and transgender people.

"I'm so glad we finally found each other," he murmured against my lips.

I nodded slightly. "I couldn't agree more." My hand slid to his chest, gently pressing on it. I curled my fingers to clutch at his shirt tightly. "But please, don't call yourself mediocre. You are so much more."

"Oh, tais-tois," he laughed. "Want to go to the theatre?"

I blinked. "I don't have any money."

"We don't need money." He started towards a parking garage, but then stopped. "I have a better idea. Come on." He turned abruptly, hailing a cab. Once it had pulled over, we climbed in and he kept a protective arm around my waist.

"Where are you off to, boys?"

"L'arc de Triomphe," Enjolras answered.

I glanced out the window, but then it proved that one glance was not enough. I slid back, closer to the window, and found myself pressing my nose against the glass. Enjolras pushed up against my back, pointing out various sights to me. In the distance, I could see a lot of things. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe. There were several restaurants and clothing stores he recommended as well. One place he pointed out that really caught my eye was an acting agency. Before we passed, I wrote the number down and saved it into my phone.

"So you are an actor?" he asked.

I nodded. "Oui, I love the stage. I have been looking for an agent."

He hummed. "I know that there are auditions soon for Equus, within the next couple days."

Making a mental note, I nodded. I would get an agent and have them get an audition time for me.

The cab came to a halt and Enjolras paid as I climbed out onto the street. My jaw dropped briefly and suddenly I was blinded. When I turned, blinking, I saw that he had a camera in hand.

"Oh no…"

"You don't want memories?" he asked. "This is a Kodak moment, babe. Our first date!"

"I look horrid in every picture."

"Yet you look amazing in the first picture I took of you."

"I highly doubt that."

He rolled his eyes. "No, you're right. You look horrible." He kissed my cheek. "Babe, you have got to be optimistic."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple."

"You want a drink? And yes, it is that simple."

"Yeah, um...Chardonnay for me."

He blinked. "Chardonnay? You're seventeen, you can't drink."

I glanced away. "But I do."

His hand curled around mine. My bad habit was drinking. I had been drinking since I was fifteen. I was addicted.

"Baby, you really shouldn't—"

"But I do!" I exclaimed. "I can't help it. When my père died, I learnt it was alcohol what killed him. I started drinking two years ago, just after the bullying started. I wanted to die, and I figured the drinking would help. But it has only made dealing with the bullies and my life a little easier to stand, but it has made me a little more suicidal. I want to stop, I really do. I want to be normal. But the stereotypical normal person is a heterosexual caucasian male ages eighteen to thirty-five. I want to be like one of those hipster people, like you. I want to be normal!"

His smile had faded about halfway through my rant, and now his eyebrow had furrowed.

"You don't want to be like me," he said quietly.

"I really do! I've dealt with bullies for years. I have slit my wrists and thighs, using it as a cry for help. I have tried to be someone I'm not to please society. I look at you, and I see the epitome of man. You are a happy, courageous part of the majority. You do not get persecuted for being you!"

He pulled me aside, into an alleyway. His eyes locked with mine.

"You don't know as much as you think you do. I was orphaned, never knew my parents. I was put into foster home after foster home. Finally the agency gave up and sent me here. Don't think I haven't hurt myself. Bullies are bad, but at least you have a family."

"At least you have people who care about you," I snapped. "My mère sent me here to let go of her burden. She may be okay with her son being gay, but she's not okay with me being her son. You're the only one who cares."

He stared at me for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't just care about you. I love you, I need you, I want you. I am so dependent on you, but you haven't seen that part of me yet."

I sank to the ground, watching as he fell with me. His arms wrapped around me and cradled me close.

"I love you," I breathed

"I love you too, Grantaire. Baby, I love you so much." He pressed his forehead against mine. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, I'm so sorry."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Help me."