Doing the Les Miserables Challenge

Day 16; Musical meet Musical (Les Miserables and Fiddler on the roof)

Percheik's P.O.V. ( I may spell his name wrong)

I stroll around with Hodel, the love of my life. She's arguing with me.

"...If you must leave you must." she says firmly I see a glint of sadness in her beautiful eyes but she turns away. I open my mouth to respond when I hear a faint screaming, and the skies grow darker over Hodel and I. The faint screaming gets closer.

"aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I look up in time to see a group of young men flailing as if they were trying to fly, but they were falling rather quickly. I shove Hodel out of the way and run. Thud. They land on the ground in one big heap. Hodel and I share a look 'We'll resume this conversation later' her eyes say. I nod. The group groans very loudly.

"Ooh! That's gonna leave a mark." a young man with curly black hair says to break the awkward silence. Hodel and I stand there watching.

"Get off me!" a muffled voice shouts from underneath them all. They all try to get up, accidentaly pushing down on their friends' bodies, causing a lot of cursing, and angry remarks. They get up to reveal a young boy around 10-12 years old, he dusts himself off.

"Sorry Gavroche," a young man with long braided hair says. Another with chestnut hair and a worried expression runs up to the boy.

"GAVROCHE! Are you hurt? Did you get scratched? Did we give you a boo boo?" The group snickers. The boy, Gavroche shakes his head.

"Calm down Joly. I'm as fit as a fiddle." The young man, Joly I presume breathes a sigh of relief.

"Good anyone else hurt?" He says the look of worry returning to his face. They all shake their heads, though they did look rather dazed.

"So... where are we?" a bald young man asks. I clear my throat,

"Welcome to Annatevka, You're not from around here aren't you?" They shake their heads.

"We're from Paris." A curly blond haired man says. Wow. How did they end up in intimate little Annatevka?

"Well where are my manners?!" A young man with brown hair and a freckled face exclaims he comes up to Hodel and I and shakes our hands.

"My name is Marius Pontmercy," he says in a sing-song voice. The rest follow.

"Enjolras,"

"Joly"

"Lesgle"

"Courfeyrac,"

"Combferre,"

" 'Ow do ya do my name's Gavroche,

"Jehan,"

"Bossuet,"

"Bahorel,"

"Feuilly,"

"Grantiare," a young man says he then takes a swig of his bottle.

"Jo- I mean! Call me Ames," a slender young man says his brown eyes looking shifty as he forces a small chuckle. A scrawny young man comes up and mumbles his name.

"I'm Hodel and this is Percheik." Hodel says. An awkward silence comes.

"Well, this has been wonderful," the young man called Combferre says to break the awkward silence, "but we really should be heading back to our revolution." I immediately perk up.

"Revolution?"

Enjolras' P.O.V.

"Revolution?" Percheik asks in his accent. I slowly nod.