Hello again, lovelies! I wanted to crank a couple more chapters out for you because I'm going to be gone this weekend. Also, I have a community called Our Own Barricade and if anybody wants to have a story in it, or be staff or something, just PM me. (It's Barricade Boys stories.) Also, it's my birthday on Thursday. Woohoo!

Also, the italics are Eponine's diary and the rest is Enjolras and Courfeyrac. Think of it like those movie scenes where you can hear a voice speaking but you can see other things going on.

December 30

Dear Diary,

I am alone, still. He doesn't care. Why would he? All I have for company in this big, lonely, room is you, diary, and his copy of The Republic…

Enjolras ran down the street, wearing the red jacket. He was alone, but all of his friends, Couf, R, Ferre, Jehan, Bossuet, Bahorel, and all the rest were searching on different streets. Courfeyrac had gone to Eponine's brother, Gavroche, who lived with a foster family on the other side of the city. Enjolras again stared at the piece of paper in his hand. Eponine's handwriting was clear. He crumpled it in his fist and kept looking down every alley, asking every shopkeeper if they had seen Eponine anywhere.

I read some of The Republic today. Out loud. It calms me down, no matter how dry the text. It talks about the Fairest of States a lot. I do miss them, a bit. I miss Grantaire's hilarity, Courfeyrac's flirting, Combeferre's smarts, Marius's laughter. I miss every one of them except Enjolras. Why doesn't he understand? All I was trying to do was help him…

Enjolras barreled around a street corner, nearly running into Courfeyrac. "What's the news, 'Rac?" he asked, breathless. "Gavroche says he knows where she is, but she made him and Azelma…" He paused, looking nervous. "…Swear to not tell us. He said that she was pretty angry at you, Enjolras. What exactly happened?" But Courfeyrac knew the story, Eponine had told him when he had seen her earlier. Luckily, Enjolras didn't seem to catch her lie.

"Well, apparently, you thought it was alright for Eponine to buy back my revolutionary books and give them to me for Christmas! When I unwrapped The Republic, I lost it. I shouted at her and told her that I never wanted to see her or that bloody book again, and then I stormed out. When I came back, she was gone. And I don't care what she thought, it was wrong to do that to me!"

Courfeyrac had been staring at him the entire time. "Dude, this sounds like your mission. I don't think she's mad at any of us." In fact, Courfeyrac knew her only cause for fury was Enjolras.

Courfeyrac came and found me today, saying that Gavroche had told him where I was. He swore to secrecy and I told him the whole story. He said Enjolras was looking for me, but he also said that Enjolras believed that what I did was wrong, and he's angry at me for it. Well, screw him. Screw that red jacket, and screw his golden curls, and screw his eyes and screw his feelings and screw everything about him. He doesn't care.

"But I care about her, Couf! You have to help me!" said Enjolras. The side of him that wasn't Enjolras-like at all was taking over, and the crack in his marble heart grew ever bigger.

He opened his hand and uncrumpled the piece of paper. "You heard the letter! Enjolras, I'm saying goodbye!" He began to read from the crumpled paper in his hand, but Courfeyrac took the paper from him. "It doesn't matter, Enj. You did the damage, you have to fix it! Maybe we can find her, but you have to apologize! She's not gonna belive it from any of us!"

I wrote a letter to him yesterday. Azelma slipped it under his apartment door for me. It read:

Enjolras,

I'm saying goodbye. You have done all the damage necessary, and now I'm gone. I hope to never see you again, because if I never saw your face again, heard your voice, I'd be all the better for it.

I know the customary greeting at the beginnings of letters is Dear So-And-So. But you're not dear to me anymore. I don't even know if I would count you my friend. Don't you understand? I was just trying to help! When you made that speech at the party, I saw a blazing, fire-fueled, passionate side of you that I had never seen before. You aren't passionate about anything anymore. You have no fire. When I saw that side of you, all I wanted to do was bring that fire back. But you didn't let me, Enjolras. You didn't let me bring back the fire. You told me you never wanted to see me again. Some gratitude that was.

I wish that you would understand. But you won't, because all you are is a marble statue with no feelings. You don't care. Do you? No, don't answer the question, I already know that I am nothing to you.

I gave you my heart, after Marius broke it. I gave you my heart, and you fixed it. You made it new, gave me purpose. But just when I began to trust you, to give you purpose, you stabbed it with a knife and watched as it shattered like glass. But you did nothing. You won't do anything. Will you?

This is why I left, Enjolras. You need to figure things out. You need to find out if you really are marble, if you really do care. And who knows? Maybe I'll come back before senior year. Maybe I won't. Don't try to find me. You won't be able to.

Eponine

Azelma went and knocked on his door. She put the letter in the hall and went to hide so she could listen to their conversation. It seems most of his friends are on my side. But he, stubborn little prick that he is, is still on his own side. He still believes that what he did was right, versus what I did. In his mind, what I did brought back "painful memories." DOESN'T HE UNDERSTAND? Oh wait, he doesn't. He doesn't have feelings. Well lah-di-dah for him and his feelings. I'll just block him out of my life.

It's ironic, diary, that I thought that Marius breaking my heart was the worst damage anyone could do. But no, this is much worse. I hate him. I hater him completely and fully, and with no regret.

Well, I'd better go, diary. Azelma wanted to walk around with me later. Hopefully he's not still wandering the streets.

"That letter she sent me last night, she said that I was the cause of all the problems. It wasn't me! It was her! Courfeyrac, surely you of all people understand!"

"Sorry, Enj, but I think I'm on Eponine's side for this one."

Enjolras sighed. "What am I going to do?"

"Give it time, just like the letter said. You need to figure yourself out before you figure her out. Just wait a couple of months. Maybe Gavroche will help you then. But for now, leave it be. It's all you can do."

Enjolras looked down so his comrade wouldn't see the sadness flicker in his waterfall eyes. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

And without another word, he walked, dejected and feeling alone, back to his apartment, passing two dark-haired teenage girls in hoodies and not thinking anything of it.

I have to go now, lovelies, but I hope you enjoyed! Also, big thanks to BroadwayActingChic15, my biggest fan ever. Bya lovelies!