*This is a new one. Everyone hears about Gaston's love life, but what about Lefou? Nobody ever knows! And most people really don't care! But I was dating Lefou when I was in the show, so it matters! Of course, I wasn't an important person, but at least I had a name! But Isanna is his girlfriend in this, and she's a silly girl. It might actually have more to do with Gaston than Lefou, but who cares anyways?

Oh, right, my boyfriend might :)*


She sat there, her eyes looking anxiously through the glass window. Rain pressed it, and she almost wondered if the sky was crying like she was.

He was getting married.

And of course, 'he' was her past fling, Gaston. He had proposed to Belle, and he was going after her very own sister, Isadore.

Isadore was the oldest, and most sensually appealing. She had long electric blonde hair than she curled and tied back. But not as far back as Isanna. Isanna even tied her's with a bow. What was so cool about twine?

Isanna was the youngest. She had long blonde hair, but not as white as Isadore's. She tied it with a pink ribbon. She was mocked for her pink gown and the fact that she made up her face to impress the man that never liked her. Isadore wore blue. And the middle sister, Indiana, wore purple and wore her hair down.

Indiana and Isadore were expecting engagement to Gaston. Isanna stopped fighting with her sisters, she was far too young anyways. She was going after an easier target.

The tagalong.

She thought of Gaston as a lady's man. But her sisters were really man's ladies. What does that mean? They were sluts. No other word she could think of. Then there was her: the wannabe slut, and there was him: the wannabe heartbreaker. They were a match made in Heaven.

"Bonjour, monsieur." Isanna had no intention of starting a banter, just a conversation while her sisters flung themselves to Gaston's bed.

"Miss." He said, quite cordially. He was a lot nicer than the man she used to want.

"What's your name?"



"Yes, but Gaston calls me Lefou, my last name. You probably would know me by that."


"Shouldn't you be throwing yourself at him or trying to pull his hair for your diary?"

"Quite the contrary." She had never thought about putting his hair in her diary. When she started to keep one, maybe she would! "I came to speak to you?"

"Doubt it."


"What's your name?"


"So you are sisters with the prostitutes that throw themselves on Gaston's bed every evening."

"Sadly." She was quite proud of her sisters.

"Then go off and act like your little slutty self."

"MY, you like to judge, don't you? With than sharp tongue of your's."

"Don't tell me it isn't true."

"I'm NOT my sisters, thank you, I'm my own independent self."

"Well, your sisters are giving your family a bad reputation."

"I don't care what my sisters do. I want to know you not him."


"Oh, contraire."


She grabbed him quickly and, to make him shut up, she kissed him violently right on the lips while her sisters and Gaston were watching.