Live today like it is your last. Drink so much today that you end it so inebriated that you can't remember that you'll probably still wake up tomorrow to live another day. Cause as much havoc and mayhem tonight with the lovely ladies of the streets as possible so that they end the day thinking that it's already ended.

That was the great philosophies that dribbled from the soused lips of Grantaire as he downed his fifth, or was it is seventh mug of ale in the Café Musain. Rémi Grantaire the resident philosophical drunk of the rebel society. A favourite of the scarlet women of Paris and the owners of tavern's where he wasted his money on liquor and rooms, despite having his own little garret to sleep in.

Rémi Grantaire, closest friend to the great Enjolras, fearless and emotionless leader of the rebel forces that he was determined would take their advisories by storm. But in Grantaire's mind if Enjolras couldn't take a willing harlot by storm – they were doomed to be the ones stormed. Enjolras was an old prude in his young age. Books, war, Paris. He had the life and the liberty, but where was the pursuit of pretty women? Where was the desire to bed as many heady whores in the short time you had to walk this earth?

That was his friend's biggest flaw. He wasn't interested in screwing anything unless it was Paris, herself in all her city glory. The ultimate dissatisfaction would come from bedding a city of corrupt men and faulty political structure.

He wasn't like Lesgles, Joly, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, or Feuilly. While they toiled the night's hours away giving some tramp the screwing of her lifetime, Enjolras was planning out strategies that he hoped would give their advocacies the screwing of their lifetimes. If only he could convince someone to seduce almighty Enjolras.

"Have you seen Marius?" Éponine approached the drunken man hesitantly, giving him her attempt at a gentle smile that looked more like a grimace. "I thought he'd be here."

"You!" Grantaire burst into near hysterics, grabbing Éponine by the hands and looking to the heavens with a triumphant grin. "You will do!"

"I will do what?" Éponine snarled, jerking her hands away from his hold.

"You see," Grantaire faded out, shaking his head and smacking his lips together a few times to try to stimulate his lips and tongue to regain some feeling. "I have this plan, this theory really."

"Oh God." Éponine groaned, covering her face in shame for his sake. "Honestly, you and your "theories", do not interest me in the least bit. You realise the last time you had a philosophical theory you bought my time and wasted it by lecturing me, mind you quite thoroughly, on the concept of constructing a whirl-a-gig. Then claimed the next morning when you found yourself, still dressed and passed out, that you were just that good that you managed it with your clothes still on."

"Ah," Grantaire gapped for a moment trying to remember what exactly he had planned to say to her. "Enjolras."

"I'm Éponine." She corrected with an amused smirk. "Good-bye."

Grantaire grabbed her arm before she could go far, "Wait, wait, wait. I remember. I remember now. Perfectly!"

"Yes?" Éponine asked with a bored tone in her voice.

"I want you to sleep with Enjolras."

"What?" Éponine snarled, jerking her arm from his grasp and laughing in shock. "You're kidding me right? That's your great theory? Why do you want me to do that for?"

"He's all bent on world domination and little concerned with dominating women."

"And," Éponine scoffed, "I'm your solution?"

"How many other whores-"

"Excuse me?"

"Lovely ladies am I acquainted with?" Grantaire paused seeing that she was about to answer, "Don't answer that. Besides, you're the only one that I know that knows him."

"Enjolras isn't exactly going to be all for this plan, I certain of that. He doesn't seem like the type to be for this. He's got his rigid Jacobite philosophies about dignity and propriety, virtue and innocence."

"Just get close to him, worm your way close to his heart so he'll worm his way into y-"

"Enough." Éponine slammed her hand against Grantaire's mouth to silence the drunk. "I'm not doing this. It's foolish."

"I'll give your five hundred francs."

Éponine chocked on thin air. "What?"

"Five hundred francs."

"You're mad!"

Grantaire laughed, "Not mad, determined. Enjolras is my friend and he's going to waist his life on the pursuit of freedom without experiencing sexual freedom."

"My God." Éponine sank down in the chair across from him, hiding her face in her hands. Was she honestly about to accept this offer. "Two hundred and fifty in advance as security for this endeavour."

"You're accepting?"

"Yes. I can't believe I'm accepting this offer."

"You'll seduce Enjolras?"

"For five hundred francs, yes."

"You'll get him into bed?"

"For five hundred francs."

"Two hundred and fifty in advance?" Grantaire asked, making sure he was fully aware of her acceptance. "How do you plan to get him?"

"I-" Éponine thought for a moment, trying to think of any conversation in the past with him that would lead for any sort of intimate relationship. "I could ask him to teach me to read."

"Then it is set."

"Lord forgive me." Éponine snarked, rolling her eyes as she stood to her feet. "I'll expect my advance tomorrow, before I start this endeavour."

"That was easier than I expected."

Éponine frowned, "Five hundred francs is enough to start me a new life. I'd sleep with anyone for that much money." She knew there would be consequences for her and her pursuit of Marius, but for a chance at a new life she was willing to blow her dream life with Marius. One night with Enjolras and she could buy herself a chance out of Paris. A new life could blossom out of five hundred francs. At least she could be thankful that Enjolras was a genuinely nice person and an attractive one as well. Seducing him would be the hard part of the entire plan, but at least she could rely on him being a good man to spend her time with. He wasn't like her father's sleazy friends that she was forced to submit to as their toy.


Éponine had half prayed that in the morning, Grantaire would have forgotten his grand proposition and her new duty of seducing Enjolras. But instead she arrived at the Cafè to find a coin pouch containing her first half of her payment being handed to her by the drunkard. He gave her a gleaming smile and glanced at a table in the corner where Enjolras sat, deeply engrossed in a book.

Gathering what little dignity Éponine had she headed towards the table trying to give the impression of a well classed woman, despite her outward street rat appearance. Shoulders back, chin out, smile. Ignore the trembling fear that threatened to make your legs shake.

He was just another customer that needed a little more coaxing to be up to par.

"Good morning," Éponine said nervously as Enjolras glared at her over his book. "What are you reading?"

"Just a play, actually. Les Fourberies de Scapin. It is about a man who, well. It's quite difficult to explain. It's about trickery basically. He forms quite clever plans to fool individuals." Enjolras grinned at the book, "I find it a comforting change to books on military manoeuvres."

"What is it like to read?" Éponine asked innocently, sitting down in front of him and seeming interested. Honestly, she was interested in learning to read. It would be just another perk to this master plan.

"What is it like to read? You do not?"

"No. I know basic words that are important for running a tavern and an inn. I can decipher what a few letters mean on shoppe signs, but only if the design imitates what the purpose is." Éponine sighed, trying to play off the desperation as best as she could.

"No one has ever taught you to read? I'm aware there is only a few pieces of literature that is truly suitable for a woman's fair mind but to be withheld such a privilege. Perhaps you could get Marius to tutor you?"

"Why not you?" Éponine gulped, hoping that it didn't seem too forward.

"I am busy with this impending war."

"Then," Éponine started, desperate for this plan to work. "why not spare some time to teach a poor girl to read a few words?"

Enjolras sighed heavily, "I am busy Éponine."

"You have time to read a book that doesn't seem war related." Éponine snatched the book out of his hands and examined the stark cover. It was not helpful at all to gather what the story was fully about. The letters all seemed to be jumbled together to form what she knew where words but what seemed like letters hashed together.

"Why do you want my help for?"

"You're nice to me. You won't laugh at my inability. You didn't laugh. I've noticed that you seem like a good and honest man. I don't have to worry about you have an alternative motive." But she knew she was the one with an alternative motive.

"Fine, I will take an hour out of each day to teach you to read. Be here this evening a little after the Notre Dame announces six."

"I'll be ready." Éponine smiled, subconsciously squeezing the pouch of money still tightly grasped in her hand.