Chapter Text
It was nighttime, and after a long day of protesting in the streets, the members of the revolution and Les Amis de l’ABC were gathered at the ABC Café, drinking and winding down for the day. Everyone was sitting at tables, talking with one another, laughing, having an overall good time- everyone except for two people.
There was Enjolras who was tapping his fingers restlessly on the tables, glaring at nothing. But this was not unusual. Though he was the leader of their revolution, the one with hopes for change, he was still very strict and stern when it came to anything and everything. He sat alone with no drink in hand, a couple of guns and some flags laid on the table in front of him. Everyone knew why he was discontent: Marius was late. Enjolras needed order and teamwork to start a revolution, and he could not have someone like Marius taking his time coming to their meetings.
The other out of place person was Grantaire. However, this wasn’t new either. Grantaire was always out of place here. Sure, he was popular enough with everyone there, but he rarely participated in anything. Nine times out of ten he was drunk, and nobody had seen him sober in a long while. No one knew for sure why he drank. Maybe it was because of his cynical nature; he needed a drink to lighten up. Maybe it was because he liked alcohol more than the average man. Maybe it was stress. Everyone knew that revolution was in the air, and with General Lamarque sick and dying, who knew how long it would be until the people would revolt?
Most people were excited, Enjolras especially. This had been something he had dreamt about for as long as anyone could remember. As for Grantaire, he seemed a little distraught about it. He was a pessimist and figured that everyone was doomed. That being the case, why was he still here? Everyone knew he admired Enjolras, but to what extent? They all figured that he’d leave before any revolutionary action was taken.
Enjolras stood up and began to talk of revolution and their plans, disregarding the fact that Marius was not there.
“The time is near.” Enjolras said, standing up. “Do not let the wine go to your brains.” He glared at Grantaire as he said this, who proceeded to smile and wave back. Enjolras rolled his eyes and continued. “We need a sign, to rally the people, to call them to arms, to bring them in line!”
At that moment, Marius walked in, looking pale and distraught.
“Marius, you‘re late.” Enjolras snapped. Marius ignored him and sat down at a table. Grantaire rolled his eyes at him.
“Marius, what‘s the matter?” Jean asked. “You look as if you‘ve seen a ghost.”
Grantaire smiled, seeing this as a chance to make fun of Marius and distract Enjolras.
“Come on, Marius. Some wine and say what‘s going on.” Grantaire said, passing him a bottle.
“…A ghost, you say?” Marius muttered half-heartedly, gazing dreamily at the bottle. “She was just like a ghost to me. One minute there and she was gone.” Enjolras was getting noticeably irritated, and Grantaire grinned and took this opportunity to gossip with Marius.
“I am agog, I am aghast!” He said, taking a swig of liquor. “Is Marius in love at last?” For a few moments, the ABC Café was in a happy argument. Constantly the intoxicated members of the café switched from focusing and singing of revolution to singing of Marius and his somewhat rushed love life. The entire time, Grantaire’s eyes did not leave Enjolras. He smirked and laughed as Enjolras grew more and more frustrated with the drunken group. He looked about ready to snap when suddenly Grantaire leaped up and headed for the door. Gavroche was there.
“I have news.” Gavroche said.
“Gavroche, we‘re a bit busy at the moment.” Grantaire said.
“Let the boy speak.” Enjolras said, glaring at Grantaire.
“But-”
“General Lamarque is dead!” Gavroche shouted. The room which moments ago was filled with joyous laughter grew silent. Everyone stared at Gavroche solemnly, except for Grantaire who stumbled back to the table to his bottle.
“Lamarque?” Enjolras said finally. “His death is the hour of our fate. The people‘s man! On his funeral day they will honor his name!” Enjolras started shouting again, relaying the plan for the revolution on eager ears. Only Marius and Grantaire remained silent, Marius sulking from his lost love and Grantaire rolling his eyes at the naïve talk of revolution.
After the meeting was over and everyone had begun filing out, Enjolras pulled Grantaire aside for a talk.
“Grantaire.” He said curtly, placing his hand firmly on Grantaire’s shoulder.
“Yes, that‘s me.” Grantaire replied, a smug look on his face. He had had quite a few more drinks after Enjolras had begun his revolution speech, and was completely intoxicated.
“Grantaire, pay attention.” Enjolras said. Grantaire made eye contact with him, but still looked cloudy and unfocused. “Look, Grantaire, I do not mind your company. In fact, I consider you a friend. But if you continue to pull these games I will have no choice but to ask you to leave, do you hear me?”
“If I had a franc for every time you told me that…” Grantaire mumbled. Enjolras had no memory of saying this to him before, but it would be no surprise if the drunkard was told this by someone else.
“Regardless, Gavroche had important news!” Enjolras continued, “you had no right to interrupt him like that.”
“Well, he had no right interrupting our fun.” Grantaire protested. Enjolras sighed. There’d be no use arguing with him tonight.
“Fine, just…” Enjolras let go of him and turned away. “Just be careful, alright? Your drinking is getting out of hand.”
“I‘m fine.” Grantaire protested. “Believe me, if you were in my situation, you‘d be a drunkard too.” Enjolras wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was Grantaire really living in such a hell that he needed to drink all of his troubles away? The man always seemed carefree. Cynical, but for the most part joyous. Maybe that was just the liquor giving him a good time. Either way, he had no idea why Grantaire would be miserable enough to drink like that. He would ask, but he had far too much to do at the moment. Lamarque was dead and he had a revolution to start in just a few hours. As he had said before, “our little lives mean nothing at all”. He would see to it that Grantaire was consoled at a later time.
“Do you know when and where we will be meeting tomorrow?”
“I‘m drunk, not deaf.” Grantaire replied.
“Well… alright. See to it that you are no longer in this childish mood tomorrow, is that clear?”
“I‘ll see what I can do.” With that, Enjolras went on ahead, leaving Grantaire alone.