On Thursdays the cafe was closed to the public. It was, on the other hand, still open for friends. Those friends being: Grantaire, Joly, Bossuet, Combeferre, and Jehan who was currently on a lunch break.

"You know," said Joly, debating whether the coffee in front of him would scald his mouth, "Bossuet and I haven't met this Marius fellow yet. We're starting to wonder whether you just made him up."

He finally took a sip of the beverage, sputtered slightly, and whipped out a small compact mirror from his pocket to check his barely burnt tongue. In doing so, his movements bumped the bald man, Bossuet, sitting next to him, making his own drink dribble from his mouth and down the front of his old t-shirt. He merely shrugged it off with a laughing comment about it being just his luck, and patted Joly reassuringly that it was fine and that no, no he did not need to be treated for burns.

They were the oddest pair, those two.

Bossuet, being only two years Joly's senior at 25, was already completely bald. His early hair loss was surely just a sign of his neverending string of bad luck. If it could be broken, Bossuet could break it; if it could be lost, Bossuet would lose it; and if it could be tripped over, Bossuet's legs would make a great deal of effort in order to do so. Added to his terrible luck was also his terrible financial situation. Managing money was never his strong suit, and unfortunately he didn't make enough of it for this to not be an issue. None of this, however, would ever leave him bitter. The ability to just shrug things off with a grin came to him just as naturally as his premature baldness.

Joly, on the opposite hand, still had a head full of thick auburn hair, but this didn't stop him from his paranoia that it would suddenly start molting from his scalp in great fistfuls from some unknown disease. Luckily for him, no such ailment had befallen him. The same could be said for the many others which he claimed to possibly be afflicted with. In fact, the only issue with his health worth noting, would be his terrible sinuses. All year round he would sniffle, whether it be from hayfever or the common cold he would be forced to carry several packets of tissues with him. It was safe to say that the young man was a bit of a hypochondriac, which meant there was some humour to be seen in the fact that he was a medical student well on his way to becoming a doctor. However, when he didn't believe he was dying, Joly was actually a rather aimiable young man- if not occasionally a little too energetic.

Despite their apparent differences, Bossuet and Joly actually got on rather fantastically together. They even shared an appartment. At some point, their friends began to question their relationship and how platonic it actually was, but these questions were soon tossed aside when they found that both men were in relationships.

Joly was currently dating a charming young woman by the name of Musichetta. Bossuet was also currently dating a charming young woman by the name of Musichetta.

Their friends had, by that point, given up on questioning them. It was far easier to just roll with it.

"No, he does definitely exist!" Courfeyrac insisted, "he just spends so much time studying." The last part he made a face at, as if the very notion made him sick. "I mean it's not like Enjolras in high school, but it's just irritating." He added on, noticing Combeferre's expression of concern.

"Where is Enjolras anyway? He's usually here." Bossuet spoke up. Graintaire's ears perked up a little at the mention of his Apollo.

Combeferre looked slightly uneasy before speaking, "He said something about being long overdue for a haircut."

"You don't seriously think he's going to-? Is he really still so bothered by that one statememt? It was weeks ago!" Courfeyrac asked hurriedly.

"I don't know," Combeferre replied, "it's not just that one guy. This is something that's bothered him for a while, and you and I both know he's never openly given a damn about what he looks like, so I really don't know."

There was something definitely uneasy in Combeferre's voice at not knowing. Enjolras was and is his best friend, he was supposed to know these things.

"Anyway, Marius does exist and he is adorable. Cosette thought so too." Jehan, as badly dressed as ever in a lurid orange scarf, attempting cheer, picked up the conversation from there.

"So Cosette has met him too?" Combeferre asked, attempting to shake his previous thoughts from his head.

"I wouldn't really use the word 'met', to be honest," Courfeyrac started awkwardly.

"You told me they just stared at eachother longingly like stalkers with restraining orders." Graintaire, not even looking up from his sketchbook, finished so Courfeyrac didn't have to. Currently he was working on a drawing of Bossuet. He liked the way the light bounced off his shiny head that day.

Laughter errupted around the tables they had pulled together at the mental image.

"It wasn't like that..." Jehan still laughed slightly, "it was much sweeter. They're in love." He blushed a little at the end of his statement, but there was still a sort of finality in his tone that no one could argue with.

"And that's exactly why yesterday was so painfully awkward when you sent Cosette for drinks." There was a light irritation in Courfeyrac's tone, but it was mostly teasing.

"I had no idea he would spill so much coffee," Jehan's face grew redder, making the usually hard to notice freckles on his nose stand out angrily.

"Just be greatful it was on himself," Courfeyrac laughed it off, "although, when he ran off to go change, I was left to deal with the customers and the shadow he's picked up." Upon the looks of confusion he received, he elaborated, "It's a girl who likes him, I think she's around Cosette's age. She only really comes here to see him, but she buys a drink so I can't complain"

There were nods of understanding around the group. Turning a customer away, even if they weren't really a customer, was rude and it's not like she kicked up any sort of fuss.

Conversation spiralled from there into more personal topics such as Joly's classes, Combeferre's work at the free clinic, and Grantaire's art commission.

Half-way through a discussion on whether it was Grantaire's nose that didn't fit with his face or perhaps his face that disagreed with his nose, the cafe door's bell rang out. Whoever had chosen to open it completely disregarding the closed sign in the window, pushed the door wide open and walked in, shutting it behind them.

Enjolras, as always, had done exactly what he said he would do.

Gone were the sunshine curls that had once framed his face. Instead the hair was now cropped closely to the sides and back of his head. There were, however, still wavey tendrills of hair on top of his head that he had tried to push to the side and out of his eyes.

It was different, his friends thought as they stared, mouths agape. Although, he didn't look too bad. In fact, appearance wise, he still passed as attractive and would still turn pleanty of heads. That was something he could possibly be pleased with.

Enjolras looked more than disgusted with himself.

Round and round the story goes! Where it stops no one knows!

So I cut his hair... Don't worry it pained me turning Apollo into Samson... Yeah, he doesn't like me anymore.

Also, new character introductions! Yayyyy! Hopefully I got them right, I do love those two.

In answer to one of my reviewers: Yes, as you can see Eponine will feature in this fic, just not as heavily as in the canon storyline. I hope that's okay with everyone.

And, because I'm naturally curious, here's a question for you guys: Favourite musicals/operas other than Les Mis?

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!

-Callie