Miserable Rouge! - A Les Mis AU

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge!

The Moulin Rouge. A nightclub, a dance hall and bordello. Ruled over by Montparnasse. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all of these, was the man Enjolras loved... Grantaire. A dancer, who sold his love to people. They called him "The Glittering Emerald." He was the star of the Moulin Rouge.

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It was the summer of love and revolution. Enjolras didn't know anything about Moulin Rouge, Montparnasse, or Grantaire. The world had gotten involved in Bohemianism, and, having just led and failed a revolution, Enjolras went to join it. It was not as his family had said--a village of sin--but a Bohemian haven. These musicians, writers, and painters were known as the "Children of the revolution."

Had he just walked into a penniless existence? Yes. He was going to try writing. And not any kind of writing. He was curious about writing about truth, beauty, freedom, and love. Now, this all would have worked out fine this one fact wasn't true--he had never been in love! He had never held someone, never kissed anyone, he had never even had his heart shattered to pieces.

Luckily, from right above his humble abode, a bald man wearing a practically glowing red jacket fell through the ceiling. He was quickly joined by a young man wearing a revolutionary's button.

"Good day, sir, I'm Joly," the revolutionary said, looking at the bald man struggling to untie his foot from the rope holding him up.

"What?" Enjolras asked, "What's going on?"

"Terribly sorry about this. We were upstairs rehearsing a play," The bald man explained, sticking out his hand to shake Enjolras's. "I'm Bossuet, by the way."

"Don't struggle so much," Joly said to Bossuet, cupping his face with his hands, "You're going to fall on the poor gentleman."

"Did you say a play?" Enjolras asked, standing up. He wasn't sure why this seemed so interesting to him.

"Yes, something modern, titled The Depressed. It's set here in France, it's the story of a man who is on the run from a police officer, while his adopted daughter falls in love with a revolutionary," Joly explained, pulling Bossuet down. "Bossuet is playing the leader of the revolution. Spoiler--everyone dies at the end."

"I suffer from a horrible case of bad luck," Bossuet explained, pulling himself up.

"How is he?" called a worried voice from upstairs, whose name was Combeferre. Enjolras looked up through the hole to see a group of young people looking down at him.

"Just a massive bump on his head, nothing else," Joly answered.

"Wonderful, now we need to finish the running through the show before seeing the financier tomorrow," groaned another voice upstairs, whose name was Courferyac. He was wearing a long pink gown and a long blonde wig that did not hide his unruly dark hair very well.

"He's right, Joly, I still need to finish writing out the music," Combeferre added, "And I'm not very good with this kind of thing. And I can barely play the part of a romantic revolutionary when apparently you won't let me wear my glasses on stage because 'glasses aren't romantic.'"

"I know, I think your glasses look adorable," Courfeyrac agreed, resting his head on Combeferre's shoulder affectionately. "You make an excellent romantic partner."

"Find someone to read the part," said a young woman wearing a green vest. It didn't make any sense to Enjolras that Courfeyrac would be dolled up when they had a woman right there.

"Musichetta, where are we going to get someone who can play a fierce revolutionary?" Courfeyrac replied.

She looked down pointedly into the hole, directly at Enjolras. Before he knew it, he had been lifted upstairs to play Bossuet's part. Bossuet was now trying to play the part of the police officer. Now they had to figure out the words to the song introducing the revolutionaries.