"Oh babe, I just got the most wonderful news!" Grantaire was awakened early on Saturday by Charla's squealing. It appeared that she had just returned from her morning run, as she was in shorts and a tight tank top, sweat still glistening on her skin.

"Ugh, what is it," he grumbled trying to tangle himself more into the sheets. He had gotten in late last night after Enjolras' meeting, and was never good at falling asleep. His mind had kept him up thinking about Enjolras' mouth and hands all night. And also that little furrow he got between his brows when he was particularly upset. That had kept him up the longest.

"The Halls have had a cancellation on June 5th," Charla cooed. "Isn't it lovely."

Grantaire sat up. "What do you mean a cancellation?"

Charla smiled. "I don't know guess the bride and groom got cold feet or something. Either way they called and asked if we would like to have our reception there. I already told them yes, and put down the deposit."

"Why didn't you ask me about this?" Grantaire asked slowly.

Charla's smile dimmed, her eyes widened. "Oh babe, I didn't think. I'm sorry I was just so excited by the chance. I didn't want to miss out. Don't worry...it came from my account since I wasn't entirely sure. You are alright with it, right?"

Grantaire sighed, when she looked like that he could never stay mad at her, not really. "It'll be fine."

She beamed once more. "Oh I am so happy! And today I will be going back to New York again and will see my friends!"

She must have been in a good mood, because the next thing she did was jump on R and kiss him passionately. One hand wrapped around his dark curls, pulling his mouth against hers, and the other ran down his body. He grunted as she grabbed hold of his flaccid cock. She laughed as it began to harden under her attentions. "Looks like someone has gotten excited."

He turned her over, so now he was on top, her golden hair streaming over his pillow. Her eyes which usually were so calm and cool, had a wild look about them. She allowed him to rut against her leg, before lifting her hips so that he could take her shorts off. She took off his shirt, allowing herself to admire his muscles, before working at the tie on his sweatpants.

Grantaire was panting as he said, "let me get a condom."

Charla laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'm not fertile right now, we should be fine."

R raised an eyebrow. Charla pushed herself up on her elbows. "I want to feel your dick in me without latex. Just you and me, babe."

R shuddered, and pulled her to him once more. She moaned as he prepped her, his fingers becoming slick with her juices. Her fingernails marked his back, and she was sure to leave a hickey he wouldn't be able to hide. After all she was leaving for the day, and she wanted to make sure he wouldn't dare stray.

Charla spread her legs invitingly, as he thrust into her. Grantaire hissed to feel her tightness around him, all his muscles tense. "Right there, babe. Ah...ahhaha that's it, r-right fucking there."

Grantaire began to pound into Charla as she continued to moan. He went to mark her, like she had done to him, but she pushed him off.

"Mm, nothing visible in the dress, babe." Her coherency was quickly lost as she drew closer to orgasm. She came before he did, he pulled out of her, remembering how oversensitive she usually was after cumming. Drowsily she muttered, "let me help you with that."

She efficiently jerked him off, his cum landing across her stomach and breasts. She looked slightly annoyed. "A little bit of a warning would have been nice."

"Sorry," Grantaire replied breathlessly, "I was-"

"Whatever. I'm getting into a shower," Charla said pulling away.

"Want me to help you with that?" teased R flirtatiously.

"No thanks."

So much for her good mood.

With Charla out of the house, Grantaire felt a calm descend over his parents. Helene seemed exhausted and worn down. His father was unusually quiet. At first R was worried his parents had heard him and Charla having sex, but it clearly wasn't that. When he asked them what was wrong they wouldn't answer, it wasn't until later when his mother was making tea that he heard them talking.

"Oh, Augustin, what have we done?" Helene sounded distraught.

"Hush, Helene. It is his decision to make not ours. If she makes him happy who are we to-"

"Does she?" Helene said a bit too loudly.

Augustin rubbed his eyes. "I do not know ma puce."

Helene's eyes were wide. "We should know. We are his parents. If it were love, shouldn't it be obvious to us?!"

"Not all love is loud and obvious," Augustin reasoned. "Remember how he was with Enjolras."

His mother was silent before, "yes."

"That wasn't a loud sort of love either."

"But it was clear they were devoted to one another," Helene said helplessly.

Augustin nodded. "They were. But that is over now, Enjolras ended it. It was only a high school romance, after all."

Helene sighed. "I know. Grantaire was devastated, but if he knew-"

"Hush, Helene. We promised Enjolras that we wouldn't tell."

Grantaire's brow furrowed. What were his parents hiding about his breakup with Enjolras? What did they know that he didn't?

"I wish Bianca were home. She would be able to make him see clearly," Helene sighed.

"Bianca has always wanted what is best for her big brother. If Charla is the one, Bianca wouldn't change R's mind and you know it." Augustin replied.

"Hmph. I still don't know how I feel about her."

"She is our guest," Augustin reminded with kindness. "She is Grantaire's fiancee."

Helene sighed again. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "You are right. I just want to see him happy."

"I know, love. I know."

Grantaire felt like the room had shrunk, or that he had grown, for suddenly he felt trapped in his own home. There was no air. He had to get out. Grantaire grabbed his sketchbook and keys, before remembering that Charla had taken the car, and then left. Now that he was out however, he wasn't sure where to go. And then he remembered a promise he had made to a friend. Slowly he began the long walk to the hospital.

For Eponine the car ride to New York was torture. Charla seemed rather self interested, and besides her looks, Eponine had no clue how her best friend had ever fallen for her. "So...how did R propose?"

Charla sighed. "I am tired of lying."

"What?"

"I have always told people that we were at a five star restaurant or in a park or whatever romantic shit that would make them jealous. In reality I found the ring, and agreed before he asked."

"You mean you didn't give him the chance to ask you?"

Charla let out a raucous laugh. "If I had let him do that, I would have been waiting a long time. R is a lot of things, but brave isn't exactly one of them."

Eponine frowned. Grantaire was one of the bravest men she knew. He constantly was battling with depression, he had dove into the pond to save Gavroche when he had fallen through the ice, not to mention the time he had defended Enjolras to a bunch of homophobic creeps at their high school. Grantaire was definitely brave, whether Charla could see it or not. "What about your future? Are you two thinking of having any kids?"

Another laugh. "Not for a long time. It took me years to get this figure, and I'm not giving it up for some screaming little brat."

"Does Grantaire know how you feel?" Eponine asked guardedly.

Charla shrugged. "If he wants one so badly he can adopt, but I have zero interest in dropping my career to look after it."

Eponine was shocked. "You really never talked about this before with him?" She knew how much R loved children. Hell, he had helped raise Azelma and Gav...he doted on Bianca when she had been born.

"I may have promised him kids," Charla said, eyes never leaving the road, "but I told him that I wanted to wait for my career to take off. Maybe we'll have one later in life, when we can afford boarding school."

"Grantaire won't like that much," Eponine warned.

"So what? It's my body, he shouldn't get to dictate what happens to it."

Eponine had a flashback to hearing those words come from Enjolras' mouth all those years ago when he was defending the right for women to get an abortion. Back then she had agreed with him, but hearing these words from Charla made her sick. She respected Charla's rights, but she could see why women like Charla gave feminism a bad name.

By the time they reached the city, Eponine was fuming. Everything from Charla's mouth showed how wrong she and R were for each other. Her friend was clearly being tricked, and there was little she could do without making things worse. Charla had made that very clear.

"It would be such a shame if Grantaire was disgraced, just before his big showcase this winter," she had warned. "After all everyone who is everyone will be attending our wedding, and his showcase...would hate for something to happen...you know?"

And so Eponine was forced to remain silent.

Kleinfeld's look just like it did on TV. When Charla arrived she was greeted by a large group of women who were clearly waiting for her. Eponine was immediately uncomfortable as all these women were white, blonde and wealthy, much like Charla. Eponine had never been ashamed of her heritage, even if she detested her parents, but here she felt like she stood out like a sore thumb.

"Charla!" one of them, slightly older than the others, drawled in a Southern accent. "Who is this...charming… young lady you've brought with you?"

"Eponine, meet Mary-Lynn de Blanc. Mary-Lynn, this is Eponine Thenardier, my maid of honor. And here's Dianne, Cynthia, Catherine with a C, Katherine with a K, and Louisette."

"Nice to meet you," Eponine said, trying to mean it.

"So Charla, a country wedding. What did this man do to convince you to have a country wedding," Dianne asked. "I believe you were quite set on having a wedding here in the city."

"Yeah he must have a magic penis if he could get you to change your mind," laughed Louisette.

Charla smirked. "Believe me, he does. Grantaire is very well endowed."

The women shriek-laughed, while Eponine drew away. She really did not need to think about what Grantaire's dick looked like, even if she made plenty of jokes about it when she was a teenager.

"What I wouldn't give to see him undressed. Those artsy types always get my blood flowing," Catherine with a C sighed.

Charla said pointedly, "he's mine."

Mary-Lynn laughed. "I know why you don't want a city wedding. Too many temptations here. You don't trust him."

"I don't trust any man. Men are dogs. Right Eponine?" Charla asked.

Eponine was caught like a deer in headlights. She thought about all Grantaire and Bahorel had done when she had asked for help...what the Triumvirate was even willing to do for her, a Thenardier, when she needed aid. She knew so many good men who had helped her raise Gav, men who inspired him not to turn out like their father. The blonde clones all turned on her, waiting to see what she would say. "Not all men?"

"Ha, you sound just like them!" crowed Katherine with a K.

"Very funny joke," agreed Catherine with a C.

"Oh I like you," Mary-Lynn ran her eyes up and down Eponine's body, looking like a hungry lioness.

Charla just watched her maid of honor appraisingly.

A woman dressed in all black approached the group. "De la Roche, party of eight?"

"Yes." Charla answered.

"And who's the bride?"

"That would be me," Charla replied smugly.

"Alright, why don't you come with me. Your friends and family can find somewhere to sit and let's get started." The woman led them farther into the store. She led the bridesmaids to the salon, telling them to stay put, before taking Charla to a fitting room.

As soon as they left, Catherine and Katherine got up to go look at dresses for fun. In just a few minutes they managed to make a mess of their own, and one of them was wearing a poofy white dress.

"So, Eponine, you know the groom quite well," Mary-Lynn started in her slow Southern drawl.

"Yes," Eponine hated being with these women alone.

"Is Charla his type?" Mary-Lynn continued.

"His type?"

"Fit, blonde, pretty," listed Dianne from her seat across from Mary-Lynn.

Eponine thought that it wasn't so much looks that mattered to Grantaire...even if that description fit both Enjolras and his fiancee...and she supposed that description fit all of these women too. "I guess? But I-"

"So we're his type," Louisette continued.

"Um.."

"You see, Eponine," Mary-Lynn said, "we all hate Charla."

"Hate her," agreed Cynthia, who up until now had seemed pretty quiet.

"We all want to see her knocked down a peg," Mary-Lynn started again. "So we have a bet going. We want to see who can boink the groom before the wedding."

Eponine looked horrified. The other women laughed.

"We're tired of Charla's constant bragging. We want to see if he's as good as she says," Louisette snickered.

"R- Grantaire isn't like that," sputtered Eponine.

"Any man can be seduced. Especially if it's by something he likes," Dianne said, her legs spreading as if to demonstrate.

"You of course don't count," Cynthia commented, "as you've probably already fucked him."

Eponine's jaw dropped. "We're just friends."

"Sure, like how I'm friends with the pool boy at the country club," Louisette laughed. "Or how Dianne is friends with her father's business partners."

"Not like that. We're just friends," Eponine protested.

"Fine, you can be out like Mary-Lynn."

Eponine turned to the unofficial leader of the pack. "Oh darlin'" she drawled, "I'm hungry, just not for the kind of meat a man can offer."

Eponine felt sick. As subtly as she could she moved away from Mary-Lynn. The Catherines returned, forcing her to sit next to the older woman.

"So did you tell her about the bet?" asked Katherine.

"Yes, we did," Mary-Lynn said, eying Eponine hungrily.

"You told her she couldn't participate, right?" asked Catherine petulantly.

"Of course. What do you take us for, a pack of dumb blondes?" asked Cynthia. That got everyone laughing, except Eponine.

"Grantaire really isn't that type of man," Eponine said.

"Sure he is," Dianne countered.

"He hangs out with this pervy Mormon couple-"

"Katherine, they aren't Mormon's you dumb fuck, it's one woman and two men," corrected Catherine.

"Fine reverse Mormon," Katherine corrected.

"That's not a thing," sighed Louisette.

"It's messed up," agreed Dianne.

"Yes," Louisette sighed, "but I wouldn't mind having too men to fuck me constantly...so long as they weren't fucking each other too. That what's messed up."

"That's how we know he'll be fine fucking one of us," Cynthia agreed. "A man with friends like that could never stick to one woman. Especially if her cunt is as arctic as Charla's."

"What's so wrong with wanting to give the groom the best fuck of his life before he gets chained to that icy ball and chain," Louisette asked.

Eponine couldn't believe how hypocritical and ignorant these women were. Charla came out in her first dress, and everyone oohed and aahed over it. Once she was gone however, it didn't take long for them to criticize her.

"That dress looked awful on her body type," Cynthia started.

"It would look better on me," Catherine sighed. "If only I had started chatting to Grantaire at that gala before she did. Then I would be the one marrying him."

"As if," Louisette hissed. "He would never fall for you."

Mary-Lynn rolled her eyes. "Men make women stupid. Don't you agree?"

She was saying this to Eponine, who had somehow still remained forced into the seat beside her.

"Um, no?"

"You're sweet, sugar," Mary-Lynn drawled out, one hand going to Eponine's knee.

"Look, I'm flattered really, but I'm not interested-"

Mary-Lynn's hand crept up Eponine's leg. "You and I are the same. We both are from the country. We're strong independent women, who don't need a man to pleasure us."

Eponine shuddered, just as she was about to do something she might have regretted, Charla reapeared. This time she was wearing a sleek, silky dress that was open all down the back. There was a slit that went up to her mid thigh, and sweetheart neckline revealed quite a bit of cleavage.

"It's perfect," sighed Mary-Lynn, meaning it this time.

"You look like a goddess," Catherine agreed.

"Like a sex goddess," affirmed Louisette.

"I think it's the one," Dianne chimed in.

"If it's not, you're crazy." Katherine nodded.

Cynthia smirked, "absolutely, completely you."

Charla was beaming triumphantly at this point, when she turned to Eponine. "Well? What does my maid of honor think?"

Eponine pursed her lips. "It's a bit sophisticated...for a country wedding."

Charla chuckled. "Oh, my sweet naive girl. I may be having my wedding in the middle of nowhere, but that does not mean it will be ill attended. Anyone who is anyone is coming. There will be security to keep out unwelcome guests and paparazzi. It will be the most remembered event of the season, so help me god."

"But Charla-" began Eponine, thinking about how the chapel they were getting married in really wasn't suitable for that large a wedding.

"It's what's best for Grantaire. He needs this before his show. It won't succeed without this." Charla said cruelly.

Eponine shut her mouth.

"Well it's settled. This is the one," Charla beamed. Only in Eponine's opinion she looked more like a snake which has found a den of rabbits.

"Wonderful," the attendant smiled. "Let me get some champagne for you all."

Charla's posture dropped as she made her way over to a seat. With no regard for the dress she sat down and began to examine her nails.

"So how much does this cost?" asked Catherine leaning in.

"Mmm, about $14,000," Charla said nonplussed.

Eponine frowned. "You told me your budget was $7,500."

Charla frowned and sat up. "No I told Grantaire that. I didn't expect him to tell a nosy busybody."

"Charla, you are spending over twice as much on the gown than you told Grantaire," Eponine protested. "Not to mention with the cost of the veil and alterations… Is he buying this dress for you?"

Charla rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Does he have that kind of-"

"Once he is a famous artist he will make this by selling a painting. It is nothing to worry about, Miss Thenardier," Charla said coolly. "I don't even see why I should be taking your advice. As I recall, you started off stealing everything your parents told you to. Clearly they aren't good with money."

Eponine snapped her mouth shut.

"That's what I thought," Charla murmured. The other women all laughed.

"I'm going to the bathroom." Eponine growled, standing abruptly. She stormed off. Once she was alone, she pulled out her phone. "R?"

"Hey, Ep. I'm kinda busy right now. Can we talk later?"

"14,000 dollars," Eponine said slowly.

"Come again?"

"That's how much Charla is spending on her dress," Eponine replied.

"Wait, what? I'm going to have to call you back Eponine...and thanks. I'll talk to her." Grantaire hastily hung up, leaving Eponine alone in a store in New York with a bunch of catty women.

"Who was that?" Jeanne asked from her hospital bed.

R shook his head. He wanted to forget his whole conversation as he knew it would just lead to an argument with Charla later. "It's nothing important."

Jeanne smiled weakly, although she knew he was lying. "I wanted to thank you for coming, Grantaire. I am glad to see your art again before I die."

Grantaire flinched. "Please Jeanne, don't talk that way, you almost sound like me." He was of course referring to his bad days, the ones where Charla had to constantly remind him of his worth and talent...those were his most miserable... Grantaire looked up from his contemplation to see the older woman looking pointedly at him.

"It's not a question of if I die from cancer, it's a question of when. You and I both know that. I wish Enj knew it too. Or at least would accept it." Jeanne sighed.

Grantaire frowned. He couldn't imagine losing his mother, meddlesome as she could be. He said as much to Jeanne.

"Oh R. It is natural for a parent to die before their child," Jeanne said.

"But not early, not because of cancer," Grantaire protested.

Jeanne smiled wryly, and when she did she looked so much like Enjolras. "Perhaps not, but cancer is natural. It wants to live just as much as I do."

Grantaire shook his head. "You're death will in no way be natural, Jeanne."

The woman smiled. "You sound just like my son."

"We never did agree on much," mused R.

Jeanne smirked. Grantaire and Enjolras had always had their differences, but they had more which complimented the other than antagonized. That's why they had been so good for one another, and why she had been a bit heartbroken when they had called it off. "I wanted to apologize for the way Enj treated you in the end. I didn't raise him that way, and I can't imagine why Courfeyrac and Combeferre would support his decision to break up through email."

"It's in the past, hardly matters now," Grantaire said gruffly, "let's keep looking at the drawings."

They continued to chat, until visiting hours were nearly over. There were hundreds of sketches, and Jeanne insisted on looking at each one. She like talking about them, asking him what he had been thinking of or doing, how he had managed this one, or what was the inspiration for that one. She complimented each one, admiring them more than he thought rough sketches ought to deserve. Once that was through, Grantaire began telling her of his time in New York. He told awkward college stories that made her laugh, and described all the amazing places and people he had met. Jeanne was enthralled, and again Grantaire was reminded of the similarities between her and Enjolras. He would do anything to make either one of them smile. Jeanne's smile was much like her son's. It was life giving. He felt that she deserved to smile more, especially now. So he told stories that he knew would get her to smile and laugh.

"And where did that hickey come from?" Jeanne teased. She was still laughing as she reached a hand out to Grantaire's neck. Grantaire blushed, but he was laughing a bit too.

That was how Enjolras found them. He hadn't heard his mother laugh in months...not really. He saw how easily Grantaire was chatting with her, how much they both smiled and it hurt. Enjolras was in love and it was killing him knowing that Grantaire had moved on. Enjolras clenched his hand, until his fist was white. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was from the pain or his own sadness. He had to move on. It was time. He couldn't bear to live with the heartache for any longer.

Enjolras didn't visit his mother that night. Instead he went straight to his shift at the Corinth and afterward he brought a man back to his bed.