Miserable Rouge! - A Les Mis AU

Come What May

One day, Enjolras said, "I had a lot of energy last night, and I wrote a song. It's for the show, the special song that the courtesan recognizes as the sailor's."

"How does it go?" Grantaire asked interestedly.

Enjolras sat down after piano, looking at it as if it were a sleeping monster. "I haven't played one in ages, so forgive me." He set the lyrics on the top, then began playing a very broken piece that could have been Mozart, or Beethoven, or maybe even Tchaikovsky. No one could tell what it was supposed to be.

Grantaire grinned at him, leaning over the top. "Nice job, maestro," he laughed.

"Thanks." Enjolras cleared his throat. "So, this one is the special sonny we were talking about. It is suddenly mushy, So keep your cynicisms to yourself." Grantaire made a face. Enjolras ignored it. "The person who is playing the sailor will sing this part here--I'll do it for now, and housing this when I give you a cue." He handed his friend another sheet of music.

"So do I just wait for you to be done?" Grantaire asked, looking over the notes. Enjolras nodded, taking a deep breath. He wasn't sure how good he was at writing songs, but he was about to find out.

"Never knew, I could feel like this, l like I've never seen the sky before, want to vanish, inside your kiss, every day I love you more and more, listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Telling me to give you everything, seasons may change, winter to spring, but I'll love you, until the end of time, Come What May, Come What May, I will love you, until my dying day."

Grantaire stared at him during the in-between instrumental part, then Enjolras gave him the cue of nodding.

"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace, suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste."

They both sang together, "It all revolves around you. And there's no mountain too high, no river too high, sing out this song and I'll be there by your side, storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide, but I love you until the end of time, Come What May, Come What May, I will love you..."

Grantaire finished, "Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place."

Courfeyrac wiped his eyes. "That was beautiful." Everyone else agreed, and Courfeyrac grabbed the paper to start practicing his part. His 'rehearsing assistant' was Combeferre, and like Enjolras and Grantaire, was probably not getting much of anything done, but he could remember lines, so they couldn't argue with that.

Grantaire kept staring at Enjolras. "Did you write that... for us?"

"Oh. I didn't know it was that obvious," Enjolras said with a shrug. He sat up quickly. "Did you like it? Because I can revise it if you want anything changed, or taken out, or--"

"Enjolras," Grantaire interrupted him, sitting down on the bench, "I loved it. It was really pretty."

During full-cast rehearsal, Grantaire was an excellent actor, and surprisingly looked great in the ridiculous gown, wig, and makeup that he had to wear to play the courtesan. Even the set designers, Eponine and Marius, who knew nothing of makeup and such things, had to agree that their girlfriend Cosette was a genius with contour. Still, no one had an answer for why men were playing women when there was Musichetta, an able-bodied woman who could do it, but she was all right with playing the boy roles.

Enjolras had to help Bossuet with his song, though, telling him that "The second mate has to run across the gangplank singing, 'The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.' Got it?"

Bossuet read over the paper again, then shrugged. "I'll at least remember the general idea. Might not be poetic, but it'll be good enough."

Finally, though, Grantaire could not keep himself from meeting with Thenardier. The only comfort for him was that Enjolras was allowed to come along. Thenardier didn't notice how much their eyes sparkled at each other, but it drove Montparnasse crazy.

At the open rehearsal where Thenardier could view their work, Joly and Musichetta were watching Marius lifting the sailor's skeleton of a boat onto the stage. Joly said, "You know, this ending's good. The courtesan doesn't go for the money, she goes for the penniless writer--shoot, I mean sailor."

Musichetta put her hand over his mouth. "Why would you say that?" he replied with a shrug.

Thenardier had been sitting a few yards away, and his ears perked up. The wheels began turning in his mind. Grantaire wasn't avoiding his meetings because he was practicing, oh no, he was just too wrapped up in the handsome young writer to be bothered to show up.

The demonstration went very smoothly, Everyone had learned the words to 'Come What May' well, and Montparnasse was crying at the end; but it may have been because he had just gotten back from sending a sloppily handwritten--he wasn't good at writing or reading--note.

Everyone struck their final pose, but the Duke was frowning. "I don't like this ending." The cast stared at him as he stood up. "Why would the lady go for the penniless sailor, who has nothing, instead of a rich man who will guarantee the life she's always wanted? Once the sailor has satisfied himself, he'll leave the poor girl with nothing. I suggest that the ending should be that she chooses the gangster." The group gasped. "And cut the lovers' special song."

"But that's not what we believe in!" called Courfeyrac from his place on stage, with Grantaire's knee in his face, "There's no freedom, beauty, truth or love in any of--"

"I don't care about your ridiculous fairytales! Why shouldn't she choose the gangster?" Thenardier insisted.

"Because he's happy with me!" Enjolras shouted, frustrated, and the room went dead quiet. He corrected himself, but not quite in time. "Him. She's happy with him, the sailor."

"Oh. I see how it is. Montparnasse, we need to have the ending rewritten, with the gangster as the winner, and without the stupid love song," Thenardier sighed, pretending to pick at his watch.

Montparnasse groaned, his face flat in his handkerchief. "But we just got all that down... it'll take a million years to get it right..."

Grantaire jumped up. "Oh, Montparnasse, leave him alone. The poor Duke has been treated appallingly." He stepped down off the stage, giving Enjolras meaningful look to not interrupt. "These silly writers go all over the place. Now, why don't we have a nice dinner, and talk over what you'vce wanted to speak to me about, hm? And we can talk about how you'd prefer the ending to be."

Thenarder breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he wasn't being avoided. "Certainly."