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The Center Confronts the Chief (or Courfeyrac Has a Serious Moment)
By Mlle. Becca Courfeyrac
“Enjolras? I need to talk to you.”
The young handsome man in question looked up from the papers he had been scribbling over on a table in the Musain. “Hmm? What is it?”
Courfeyrac sat down next to him. “It’s about Grantaire.”
Enjolras’ face immediately fell, and a look of disgust came into his cool blue eyes.
“Courfeyrac, I have a pounding headache and a paper to write. I do not have the time, nor the energy to discuss that blabbering winecask.”
“That ‘blabbering winecask’ sure seems to think a lot of you,” Courfeyrac said, smiling ironically.
That got his attention. He started. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on, David. Don’t play dumb with me. You have to have seen the way he looks at you. The way he comes to rapt attention from even the most drunken stupor the moment you open your mouth. All of us have, even if no one else is brave enough to mention it. He cares-”
“That man cares about nothing.”
“In your own sense, maybe. He doesn’t care about freedom of speech, or kings, or les abaisse. He doesn’t care about libertie, egalitie, or fraternitie, or even the Republic. Instead of all that, he cares solely about you.” After a beat he added prophetically, “ He’d die for you Enjolras. Along with the rest of us. Talk to him.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past few years. That man is unreachable.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean really talk to him. Listen to him. See what he has to say. You might be surprised what he can teach you.” Courfeyrac searched for a reaction in the marble face. “Well, at least think about it,” he said, and headed out.
Moments after Courfeyrac had left the café, Grantaire entered and headed straight for Enjolras. "So, great Apollo, what plans are you cooking up for us today?” he said in his usual, mocking tone.
Enjolras looked up, and for a moment thought about what Courfeyrac had told him. But then he just shook his head, and slowly went back to his work.
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