Absentmindedly, as Enjolras walked to first period, he put his hand in his pocket only to grab at empty fabric. Scowling, he thought back to how Éponine had gently touched his hip as they parted ways. Damn girl had picked his pocket.

Éponine skipped her first class and hid out in the theatre dressing room. (Not before stealing a few cigarettes from Grantaire's locker, of course)

She sat in the dressing room on an old stool covered in paint stains. She lit the cigarette and inhaled, holding the smoke for as long as she could until she needed air. When she released her held breath, the smoke emerged from her chapped lips and filled the small room with a cloudy haze. The smoke ran over the mirror, and when it cleared Éponine got a good look at her reflection.

She was small, almost gnarled. Her shoulders stuck out at odd angles and seemed permanently slumped forwards. Her breasts were fleshy enough to be in existent, but small enough to be hidden if she wore a baggy shirt. Her legs were sticks that seemed barely enough to support her skinny torso. Her cheekbones outlined how gaunt her face was, and her eyes were glittering onyx in hollow sockets. Her mouth was small and the flakes of skin that peeled off her pink lips. It was times like these that she wondered why Montparnasse wanted her.

One word kept running laps in Éponine's head.

Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.

Enjolras didn't know when he made his plan, but once he did it seemed like nothing mattered more. After second period, he confronted Grantaire by the art room.

"I need you to do something for me." He said, stiffly. Grantaire chuckled, his breath already smelling of brandy.

"No 'Hiya Grantaire!'? No 'I was staring at your sketch for an hour, Grantaire'? Looks like Apollo needs to work on his manners." He said, and Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Grantaire, it amazes me that you have that much artistic talent despite the fact that you are usually a useless alcoholic. Anyway, isn't it a little early to be drunk?" He asked, and Grantaire shook his head.

"Touché"

"Point is, I need you to get that girl to come to the meeting today." Enjolras said.

Grantaire snorted. "She won't come. She's got plans with-"
"Montparnasse. I figured." Enjolras snapped, and Grantaire actually felt his confidence waved for a second.

"I'll try, but I'll give no guarantees. Why do you want her there so badly?" He pulled a water bottle and took a gulp from it. Judging by his grimace, it wasn't water.

"We're talking about domestic violence. She's the kind of person we're trying to help, Grantaire. Plus, if we can get her away from him for just one day..."

"Fine. Make sure Marius is coming-"

"I don't give a flying fuck about Pontmercy."

"It's the only thing I can use to get her to come." Grantaire pointed out. Enjolras rolled his eyes but nodded; he didn't understand how some people could be blinded by love.

"All right." He nodded crisply and started to walk away when Grantaire grabbed his arm.

"She has a name you know. It's Éponine Jondrette."

Éponine.

Enjolras would never admit it to anyone, but he thought that it was a beautiful name for an injured angel.

"I don't want to." Was all she said. Grantaire groaned and leaned against her locker, slamming it shut.

"Marius will be there." He pointed out. She froze, her hand half-way to the combination lock. She turned to him, her dark eyes gleaming with frustration.

"That's a cold card to play." She pushed past him and out the front doors. He followed, murmuring under his breath about 'the things I do for you, Apollo'.

Before she could make it to the parking lot (and to an impatient Montparnasse), Grantaire managed to stop her with a hand on her shoulder. She made a squeaking noise that sounded somewhat like a suppressed shriek of pain. He said nothing, he just turned her around and forced her to look him in his pleading, navy eyes.

Éponine and Grantaire stood in the courtyard of the high school. The sun warmed the air but the breeze was biting- the October wind not letting up for anything. Joly's jacket wasn't proving to be much and Éponine, although not to eager to go with Montparnasse, was looking forwards to the warmth that the heat in his old Ford would provide. She tugged away from Grantaire and shook her head, sadly.

Grantaire groaned and gave up, going inside. Neither of them noticed the handsome boy who was watching them from behind the fountain.

The boy made his move once the courtyard was mostly clear. He lunged for the freshman, his strong arms circling around her small waist. She squealed as he tossed her over his shoulder."C'mon, Grantaire, put me down. I don't want to go to your fucking meeting!" She said, exasperated. When he didn't respond, she started pounding his back with her bony fists. "Seriously! Put. Me. Down!"
She froze once she realized something. This person was far too muscular to be Grantaire. They also smelled a hell of a lot better, too. She had no clue who this was, and this scared her more than anything.

Éponine suddenly seemed to have a seizure, her arms and legs flailing wildly. She heard an indignant, pained noise emerge from her captor when one of her feet made contact with his vulnerable side.

When she was finally put down, she stumbled away from him, not realizing that she was in a room full of people. "What the hell?"

The one who basically kidnapped her was the marble man himself, standing over her in all of his glory, a smirk gracing his usually stony face. He held out his hand to her, but she refused, opting instead to stumble to her feet on her own.

"You're coming to this meeting." He said, shortly. She took a step away from him and sneered.

"Why?"

He came close to her and put an arm on the desk behind her, pinning her so that she couldn't try to escape without causing a scene. His eyes widened almost innocently as he said, "Must I bring up-"

"Fine. You win, rich boy." She shoved past him and settled in a chair in the back. She knew that (eventually) Gavroche would show up and she would have company other than Grantaire (who she was still quite angry with).

Enjolras sat on one of the desks in the center of the classroom, and began to speak. All thoughts Éponine had occupying her head vanished when his words washed over her. She wanted so desperately to find something to hate about his words, but she couldn't. Occasionally one of the other boys would come in with their own words, but those comments were like nails on a chalkboard compared to the warm waves of Enjolras' speech. She was vaguely aware of Marius coming in with Courferyac and Gavroche, but she didn't move.

Once the meeting adjourned, Grantaire turned to her with his bottle to his lips and his eyebrows reaching dangerous heights. She groaned.

"Fine. The meeting was better than I expected. I didn't really understand what you were talking about, but I liked when Enjolras talked. He's got a way with words, you know. I don't even know if I agree with him, but he's got a good... Give me some of that, will ya?"

She reached for the bottle of bourbon just as someone came up behind her. She gagged a little; it was too sweet for her taste.

"Jondrette, you're just a kid. Put that bottle down." A silvery voice said from terribly close to her ear. She yelped but did as she was told. When she turned, it was the incredibly (handsome) frustrating blond who seemed to be everywhere that day. "And you like it when I talk?"

"Shut up." Her neck tingled and flushed, and she was vaguely aware of Enjolras' cool fingers brushing over the exposed skin. She quickly flipped her tangled hair so that it hid the bruise. His lips pursed together, but he said nothing. She looked away, suddenly desperate to look somewhere -anywhere- else. Her eyes met those of Marius, and his face lit up when he saw her.

"'Ponine!" He came over to her and brought her in for a crushing hug. Her shoulder screamed in protest, but she endured it in her hazy happiness. He was holding her. Marius Pontmercy was holding Éponine. He let her go and looked at her with a devoted and oh-so-happy gaze. "I owe you. I mean, I owe you BIG. Anything you want, right now."

"What's got you so excited, Mr. Pontmercy?" She asked, cheekily. It was the first time anyone besides her mother or Cosette had called her 'Ponine.

He waved a hand, dismissing the formalities. "It's Marius."

"Well, okay, Mr. Marius." She winked, and he laughed before taking a hold of her hands.

"She loves me too! Oh, thanks to you, I've been introduced to a whole new world." His smile seemed enough to light the whole room, and yet Éponine felt as if she'd never been in a darker place. Grantaire saw this and quickly interrupted Marius.

"Whoa, there Aladdin. She's my designated driver, you'd best let her go." he said. Marius released her hands and walked away, humming something that sounded suspiciously like Taylor Swift. She sighed.

"This sucks." she then looked around to see if anyone was listening. When she saw that no one was, she murmured to Grantaire. "They're not actually in love, are they?"

He shrugged and put a comforting arm over her shoulder. "Who knows? They're young. They're horny."

A/N: I have three musical references in here! (Not including Les Mis or Aladdin). Two are from the same show and one is from a different one.

*hint* They're both rock musicals and my lovely Aaron Tveit has been in them both.

(Yes, he's mine. I payed and everything)