Thank you all so much for reading it and for the reviews! Y'all are what motivated me to keep on writing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables.

Chapter III. With A Little Help From My Friends

I get by with a little help from my friends

Get high with a little help from my friends

I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends

(With A Little Help From My Friends, The Beatles)

Two hours ago, at Café Musain.

"Just speaking in public is not enough." Enjolras slam his fist down the wooden table. "We may grab their attention temporarily, but would they follow us until the end? We must think of a more effective method."

He folded his arms around his chest, waiting for the usual approval from his friends. There is some murmuring and a few heads nodded, but other than that, nothing like the sort of cheering and arguing that Enjolras witnessed when they first formed Les Amis de l'ABC.

"Must we use brutal force to achieve equality Enjolras?" said Combeferre. "Why can't we propose our ideas to the king in a civil and peaceful manner? You are always so angry Enjolras, I'm afraid it is rather a bit put-off for some."

Enjolras exhaled. "Combeferre, what makes you think I haven't done that? I have written countless letters to the king. The aristocrats, they do not want to change if it means giving up their benefits. They need a slap to the face, not holding hands and chanting slogans."

Combeferre murmured something incoherently, while Enjolras shifted his focus to Joly. At a table, Grantaire was passing a bottle of wine to Joly after drinking directly out of it. Joly looked at the bottle suspiciously.

"Are you sure you are not sick Grantaire?"

"Sweet Jesus Joly, just drink the damn thing!"

Courfeyrac snuck up from behind Enjolras. "Feeling a little tense?" he grinned mischievously.

"A little is an understatement Courfeyrac." Enjolras sighed heavily. "How can I hope to stir the people if I cannot even stir my friends?"

"If I were you I wouldn't worry too much. We have done a lot for the last couple of weeks. The boys are just a little bit distracted, they want to relax a bit that's all."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who is serious about this." Enjolras shook his head. "You know that there is a chance we are going to die, don't you Courfeyrac?"

"I am perfectly aware of that." Courfeyrac nodded. "But that doesn't stop me from enjoying life Enjolras. You are always so tense, I wonder how you manage to function."

"If by 'enjoying life' you mean getting involved with various women, I hardly see it enjoyable."

Courfeyrac chuckled. "You never know until you try."

The focus of the room shifted to a young man with freckles emerging from the stairs. He walked around absent-mindedly, completely oblivious to the scene around him.

"My god Marius, it's as if you have seen a ghost!" Grantaire laughed.

"Not a ghost." Marius smiled dreamily. "A beautiful mademoiselle."

Enjolras felt like slamming his forehead to the table. The last thing we need here is another distraction, he thought.

"You see?" Courfeyrac spread his arms while walking towards Marius. "Even Pontmercy here has fallen into the trap of love."

Enjolras watched the boys forming a circle around Marius, eager to hear about his mademoiselle.

Enjolras could not understand all this fuss about women. All the women Enjolras had encountered (mainly through his mother's obsession about finding him a aristocrat wife) appeared to be gossipy, shallow, too occupied with dresses and bonnets and gossips to have anything remotely interesting coming out of their little mouths.

"Maybe Enjolras…" Courfeyrac returned to his best friend. "You will understand if you come with me and Joly tonight. We plan on stopping by this inn after meeting here. We'll make sure you have a lovely female company to occupy yourself with. What do you think eh?" Courfeyrac winked.

"Not in a million years." Enjolras shook his head.

"Listen, I have told you multiple times that you need to relax for a bit. Your mind needs its rest before it can work properly. Maybe you have been too engulfed inside the same thoughts and patterns of thinking, you cannot get out of it. Just forget everything for one night, relax and maybe you will come up with something brilliant tomorrow and remind us why we are following you, eh?"

Enjolras remained silent, but the defiant look on his face has changed to one of more remorse. This is great, Courfeyrac thought. If I can get the Golden Boy to finally lose his virginity tonight, there is nothing more in life that I want to achieve. Courfeyrac decided to push it a little bit further.

"Just one night. Tomorrow me, Joly and the boys would pull ourselves together, what do you say?"

Enjolras sighed heavily. "What scheme do you have in mind Courfeyrac?"

"Just drinking and conversing with the ladies. Nothing too scandalous."

"I already paid for this, so enjoy yourself alright Enjolras?" Courfeyrac pushed Enjolras into a dim-lighted room then closed the door and locked it. Enjolras could hear Joly's laughter mixed with a high-pitched giggle in the back. He loved his friends to death, but right now he had the strongest urge to beat the shit out of them.

"So much for drinking and conversing." Enjolras mumbled. He settled down at a chair near the window and closely examined a candlestick within his reach.

Enjolras heard the knob on the door turn. The muscles on his shoulder suddenly tensed up, he could feel himself become more and more nervous. His palms were sweaty, no scratch that, Enjolras could feel sweats running down from his forehead.

What am I going to do now, Enjolras panicked. I am not Courfeyrac, I don't know how to handle women.

He heard a female voice joyfully chirp, but was abruptly cut followed by a small choke. In a second Enjolras could swear he heard his name being called out.

Well this is interesting, he thought and slowly turned around. Standing at the door is a girl dressed in a tattered petticoat. The chemise hung loosely around her shoulder, as if suggesting that it once fitted her. Her huge brown eyes reflecting the candlelight, growing wide with what Enjolras could only interpret as surprise, but not the good kind.

For some reason she looked familiar to him. Enjolras searched his memory, but he could not recall any memory of her.

"How did you know my name?" He figured if she told him, he might have a chance to find out why her face seemed so familiar to him.

The girl stood at the door, still staring at him in amazement.

This is getting a bit ridiculous, Enjolras thought. Not at all enjoyable, mind you Courfeyrac. He sighed heavily.

"Fine. Why don't you start by telling me your name then?"

The girl remained silent. She bit her lips and started darting her eyes around. He began to feel his patience slipping away.

"Mademoiselle, I don't know how you know my name, but I know why you are here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I can assure you I do not like it any more than you do. You can leave if you want, my friend has already paid, and I will compensate you properly for the loss of your precious time. Do not feel insulted or take this personally, I was tricked to be here by my friends."

To his surprise, she stepped forward and sat down on the bed, facing him. Her expression relaxed a little bit and she spoke with a soft voice, almost raspy.

"I am not allowed to reveal my name, but Monsieur can call me Cassandra."

So she refuses to answer why she knows my name, he thought. I won't push it any further, I won't torment this girl more than she already has been. She looks so young, hardly eighteen, seventeen even.

The thought of Cassandra's life saddened him. Here sitting in front of him, was the very embodiment of what he was fighting for. A victim of an unjust, privileged system.

"Cassandra." He nodded. "How do you do?"

"Not so good Monsieur." She snickered. "But let's not talk about me, yes? After all, I am here to entertain you. I'm sure my petty little life bears no interest to Monsieur."

"Contrary to your belief, Mademoiselle, your life is of every interest to me."

She giggled at the word mademoiselle, her eyes became warmed and playful. "You are so strange Monsieur. You act as if I am equal to you."

"Mademoiselle, you are just another citizen of Paris, no better or worse than me or anyone else."

In a minute, Cassandra looked both startled and as if she were to burst into tears at the same time. She whispered. "You're too kind Monsieur Enjolras. I am most grateful."

"What do you do for a living Mademoiselle? Besides, erm, this." He looked around rather awkwardly.

"Don't be embarrassed Monsieur. My occupation is hardly noble, but it helps me get through. In the day though." She smiled. "I have more freedom. I either wander around or I run errands for papa."

"What kind of errands?"

"Oh, nothing worth mentioning about. I deliver messages in and out of prisons, or sometimes they make me look through houses, to see if there's anything worth robbing."

Enjolras must have let his emotions get to his face, as Cassandra chuckled. "Such is the way of life Monsieur Enjolras. We do everything we can to survive. I'm not proud, but I don't condemn it either."

"I'm very sorry Mademoiselle." He said solemnly with fire in his eyes. "But things will change, very soon. There will come a day when everyone has food, shelter and a decent job, when everyone is equal and nobody will have to scratch for a few frances anymore."

"Said who?" she asked, amused by his little speech.

"Me." He smiled and slammed his fist down the soft surface of the bed. "Believe me Mademoiselle, I will do everything I can do make sure that future comes true."

Talking to Cassandra, witnessing the horror that was her life reminded Enjolras of the real reasons that he initially started Les Amis de l'ABC. A million of thoughts raged through his head, Enjolras was suddenly filled with solutions and future plans, clear as day.

"Mademoiselle, do you have a dream?" he asked spontaneously.

"Why Monsieur, you ask such odd questions. I cannot afford to have a dream."

"Surely you must have one. What if, given the chance, what would you want to do?"

Enjolras could see her eyebrows knitted as she was thinking very hard.

A dream huh? Éponine thought. She never gave the matter much thought. Nobody has ever cared about her dream. Nobody has ever cared about what she wanted to do in life, so it was natural that she should not care either. But it doesn't have to be that way, a little voice inside her whispered.

She sneakily glanced at the handsome young man facing her. His eyes burned with determination, his lips pressed together into a straight line, his face open and sincere. He really was honest in an almost childish way, he cared about what she had to say.

"I suppose…" she carefully sorted out the thoughts in her head. "I supposed if I could, I would want to open a bookshop."

"A bookshop?"

"Yes Monsieur." She grinned, thinking about the possibility of owning a bookshop, making decent money out of selling and managing books. Éponine suddenly stood up and spoke with much enthusiasm. "I love books, I love reading. Nothing would make me more happy than oh, owning a bookshop, then come home every evening to my husband and children. I would be most happy."

As though realizing that she was speaking loudly, Éponine sat down onto the bed and smile sheepishly. "What about you Monsieur? What is your dream?"

"My dream is to make your dream come true."

"Now Monsieur, you are teasing me and it's not funny."

"But Mademoiselle Cassandra, I am not. I believe that everyone should be able to follow their dream, that they should not be bound by their past or their social class."

Well said Enjolras. Like the true revolutionary you are.

"That's a beautiful dream Monsieur. I am most grateful."

They continued talking as the night went on. Enjolras talked about the inner working of the French government, he passionately pointed out its faults and mentioned the superiority of a Republic system while Éponine, or should I say, Cassandra, listen and nodded in amazement and smiled encouragingly. He talked as if he was talking to a street full of people, as if he was talking to a Congress full of old aristocrats men, not a young prostitute with huge brown eyes.

He probably would have gone on all night if it hadn't been for Joly banging at the door, shouting. "Enjolras, we have to go. Come now."

Enjolras quickly stood up.

"I'm very sorry Mademoiselle, but my friend is calling me. I should go now."

"Au revoir Monsieur Enjolras. I wish you the best." Éponine giggled as Enjolras shook her hand and kissed it. "May God bless you."

"Au revoir Mademoiselle Cassandra. It was a pleasure talking to you."

Enjolras closed the door around him as he gave the innkeeper two napoleons, specified that it was for Mademoiselle Cassandra. The innkeeper shot a puzzled look at him but said nothing.

"So, Enjolras, how was your female company?" Courfeyrac winked mischievously.

"She was delightful, and I enjoyed myself tremendously, thank you very much."

Courfeyrac and Joly looked at each other with disbelief, their mouth hung open. Enjolras smirked, knowing the effect of his words had upon his friends. Joly dropped a coin onto Courfeyrac's palm, mumbling. "Fine. You won."

Such children they are, Enjolras shook his head disapprovingly, like a loving parent.

Éponine sank down into the bed. For the first time since she entered the room, she let herself relax and exhale. She could not believe her luck. Enjolras had not remembered her. She was too grateful and happy to feel at all insulted. Somebody like Enjolras must have had much more interesting and significant things to remember than a little gamine he met for some brief seconds. Still, she thought to herself, such luck was not allowed twice. She must be more careful from now on, to not run into Enjolras.

So i hope Enjolras was not too OOC. He was gifted with oral speeches after all, and he was a charming young man ~ that's the only explanation I have for this little fluff ~ thank you for reading this ~