My Moon: An Enjolras Love Story

a moment of breathless delight

(NOTE: In the actual book and musical, a little known fact is that Enjolras, Combeferre, etc. are their last names. In this version, Enjolras, Combeferre, Grantaire, etc. are their first names for simplicity.)

SÉRAPHINE POV

On April 2, 1832, I arose from my bed at around ten in the morning. This was a few hours later than was my habit. Most mornings I would rise with the sun, letting the rays of light enter through my window and stir me from my slumber. Since I lived alone, I had no one to awake me and had to rely only on the sun's beams to wake me up. As I peered at the grandfather clock across from my bed, I noticed that I had only an hour before I would be meeting my best friend in the town square. I had to hurry up to get ready or else I would be late.

My name is Séraphine Beaulieu. I am nineteen years old, a middle-class woman living in Paris, France. My father always describes me as his "little firecracker," where my mother instead thinks of me as having my "head in the sky." I do not disagree with either of them, but I prefer to think that there is more to me than impulsive passion and fantastical daydreams. Even so, I have not yet figured out who I truly am or what I truly desire. This is probably a result of my constant loneliness; were I blessed with more frequent company, I believe I would be more aware of the possibilities that await me and thus more aware of the woman I have the potential to become.

Although I have acquaintances and a best friend who goes by the name of Éponine, I still find myself longing for more people to talk to and befriend. My parents do not live with me but instead live in a cozy cottage about twenty miles north of where I live. I have only been there twice. Because of an event that happened in my youth, an event which I will describe in more detail at a later time, my parents now have to live separately from me. They still, however, supply me with what I need. They send me food, clothing, and enough money to provide for my basic necessities. In order to have some extra money to spend on the occasional nicety here and there, perhaps a book or a new frock, I have been taking up odd jobs for various people in my neighborhood. I often tend to their houses, watch their children, and sew for them. Sometimes the people I help out can be rather shady, but the company of their children and the surplus money make it worth it.

Because I did not have to work for anyone on April 2, I was meeting Éponine at eleven in the morning. I hurriedly washed myself. Then I put on one of my long red frocks and covered myself with a simple white cloak, knowing I was at risk of being tardy for my meeting with my dear friend. After quickly running a comb through my long brown locks, I stepped into my modestly-heeled shoes and took a pastry tart from my kitchen to give to Éponine. I only had a few minutes, so I scurried out the door and walked as quickly as I could without running.

I had not been in the center of the square for more than three seconds when I heard a voice yelling, "Séraphine!"

Turning around, I noticed Éponine running towards me. She had her signature devil-may-care smile plastered across her face. I could never help but admire the girl -- she had been through so much, yet she still managed to keep herself happy.

"Hello, Éponine!" I greeted in return, pulling her into a hug and handing her the pastry tart after we broke apart.

"This is wonderful, Séraphine; thanks!" she said as she hungrily ate what was probably the nicest thing she would eat all week. "You look wonderful, as usual."

I felt guilty because, although I knew she meant it as a genuine compliment, she could not hide her envy. I had been blessed with enough surplus money to buy myself a few nice garments, but she consistently arrived to our meetings in rags. Despite my guilt, I appreciated Éponine tremendously for her friendship and selflessness. Were I in her position, I would probably find it very hard not to resent someone who had what I have. For that, I considered Éponine the greatest person in my life, someone whom I counted on and looked to for counseling. She was the one person I could feel at home with, the person who made me feel like I had a family after my parents were separated from me.