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The back room of the café Musain was an absolute chaos that night. The anticipation, mixed with excitement and determination was palpable in each one of those young men -well, with the exception of one, who looked at the rest of them from a corner, with deep melancholy-. They moved from one side of the room to another nonstop, counting bullets, distributing guns, planning how and when they should act. They were full of hope for a new world where there wouldn’t be any misery or injustices, painfully aware that maybe reaching that world would cost them their lifes, but that was a price they were willing to pay. What is the life of a few compared to the liberation of humanity?
“Alright, with this it should be enough” -the one who spoke was Enjolras. At the sound of his voice, the others felt in silence to listen carefully the words of their leader- “Go and rest, tomorrow will be a long day and you are needed as awake as possible”
The other boys obeyed and started to leave, saying goodbye effusively to each other.
“One last thing” -Enjolras said, making his comrades turn towards him- “Whatever happens tomorrow, you would have done something to change the world. No effort is worthless when we speak of a cause this big”
And with that, the other left, leaving Enjolras to finish organizing everything when just a minute later, he noticed that he was not completely alone.
“How can you be so sure of this?” -Grantaire spoke with a hoarse voice, almost desperate. He was still lying in his chair in the dark corner of the room. At this point of the night, it was very probable that he was already drunk, to support this theory he was holding a half empty wine bottle while he looked at Enjolras with his eyes filled with angst. He hadn’t participated in the preparations for the protest like the others, he hadn’t showed any interest for the cause, he had just laid there in silence -something that wasn’t normal in him, since he never stopped talking- with his gaze lost.
Enjolras stopped what he was doing for a moment to dedicate him a serious look.
“What do you mean?” Grantaire growled as he left the bottle on the table beside him. He pushed his bangs back uselessly, as his curls always came back to his forehead to obscure his vision.
“Th-” -Grantaire started- “This, all of this”
“Grantaire” -Enjolras said, going back to his labor of organizing the bullets- “I have no time for your nonsense”
Grantaire took a while to reply.
“I’m painfully aware that you have no time left”
Enjolras turned to him and gave him a dismissive look, aware of what Grantaire was implying.
“You once said you believed in me” -Enjolras reminded him.
Grantaire stood up from where he was sitting and walked towards Enjolras, fearful to look him in the eye.
“Yes” -he admitted.
“Have you changed your mind, then?”
“No”
Enjolras rolled his eyes, tired. He wanted to go away, he should be resting now for the next day, Grantaire was making him lose his precious time of sleep.
“I don’t understand you” -Enjolras said, stepping closer to Grantaire- “You say you don’t believe in our cause but you do believe in me? Believe me when I say I try, but it is impossible to me to understand you”
Grantaire made a gesture to grab his hand, but he regretted it at the last second, fearful of being rejected.
“I don’t need you to understand, I just wish you would stay”
Enjolras analyzed him carefully. Grantaire was only two years older than him, but the age gap seemed much bigger. While Enjolras looked younger than he really was, Grantaire seemed to be older. His physical appearance wasn’t the one of a twenty-eight year old man. Alcohol had deteriorated him and he didn’t seem to care about it.
“Please” -Grantaire continued- “I don’t want to live without you” -he thought for a moment before correcting himself- “I can’t live without you”
“You are drunk” -Enjolras observed.
“You know what they say” -Grantaire said with a dry laugh-: “only children and drunkards say the truth”
They were so near to each other that Enjolras could appreciate the stench of alcohol and tobacco that Grantaire gave off.
“If you don’t want to come tomorrow, don’t do it, there is no one forcing you and I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for something you don’t believe in”
“Are you truly willing to die for this?”
“Every purpose involves sacrifices”
“But why? Your parents are rich, you could perfectly just go back to your home and ignore all the problems of the country. You don’t have to die for the stupid progress of the humanity. Enjolras, humanity doesn’t want to progress. It seems that you only want to die, don’t you know that there are easier and quicker ways to do that? But no, you have to die big"
“You are wrong, I don’t want to die. None of us want to die, but we are willing to do so if that is the prize to pay for the freedom of the people. If death comes to me at the barricades, I will accept her with pride, knowing that I die for a good cause” -Enjolras saw how a shadow crossed Grantaire’s eyes. He felt pity for him and wanted to comfort him- “but I don’t think we’ll come to that extreme”
Both men had ended up with their faces very close to each other during the discussion, their hearts beating rapidly, with a sentiment they couldn’t place. Enjolras even though for a moment that Grantaire wasn’t that complicated in reality, but that was before he opened the mouth again:
“But, what if…”
“As I said, don’t come if you don’t want to” -Enjolras cutted him, he just lost all the hopes he had of making him understand- “Stay here at the tavern drowning your sorrows on alcohol, as always”
Grantaire shook his head, walking backwards to pick the bottle he had left at the table.
“Wherever you go, I’ll be there” -he said as he started leaving- “even if it costs me my life”
He slammed the door, leaving Enjolras alone with his thoughts, the gunpowder and the bullets, identical to the eight ones that would cause his death not long after.