I walked into the Saint Michele bakery to buy a loaf of bread with my spare francs. The room was engulfed with the smell of bread. It made my mouth water.

"Here you are, Mademoiselle. One loaf of bread." The male baker said, setting the bread on the counter between us.

"Merci, Monsieur. Here is five francs." I set the money down.

"That's not enough." He said pushing my money back to me.

"What?" I asked in disbelief. "I thought bread here was five francs."

"No, mademoiselle. It is seven now," he continued, "with all the people getting as much food as they can before the war, I needed to make some extra francs."

I scooped my francs up and put them in the small cross-chest bag at my waist. I thanked the man one more time before I stepped outside to leave.

What am I going to do now?

I decided to walk to the Amis de ABC. Though I wasn't sure where I was going, I'm sure I would figure it out.

I walked for a long time, trying to find the café, but it was nowhere to be seen. In fact, I didn't think I was even in Saint Michele anymore. I had no idea where I was. I scanned my surroundings and tried to find some buildings that looked familiar. I couldn't find any. Before I knew it, somebody grabbed my arm and twisted me around.

"How old are you? I like to know what I buy," a large, fat man with thick facial hair sneered at me. With those few words, I knew exactly where I was. I was where the prostitutes lurk, waiting for men. This man must have thought I was a prostitute.

"No, I'm not a prostitute!" I tried to free myself from his grip. I noticed there were girls of all ages spread across the street. Most of them had their breast nearly popping out of the tiny dresses they wore.

"Is this some sort of trick?" his voice raised and his grip tightened. I squealed as my wrist started to go numb.

"Stop! Let me go!" I somehow broke free from the grip of the man. I ran. I ran faster than I ever had before. I hated that place more than anything.

---

I finally got back to the commons area. My lungs fought for breath. I put my hands on my knees while I tried to catch my breath.

"I know you," I heard a voice say. I lifted my eyes to see a women. She was dressed beautifully and was crowned in fabulous jewels.

What was she doing in the slums?

"You were at the speech that happened yesterday. I saw you disrespect that police officer."

"Yeah. So?" I stood up, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing me threatened by her.

"You are lucky he didn't kill you. He should have. It would've put one more piece of scum out of their misery." She smiled evilly and started to strut off, probably feeling pretty high and mighty.

"What if I said that your the real scum that lives here? How would you take that?" I shouted at her. I didn't care who heard me, as long as I was making a point. "You never share your wealth, you smother yourself in expensive clothes while people here are dying." I felt a hand touch my arm. I didn't look back to see who it was. I wasn't done with this woman. "How dare you call us scum when your the real scum that lives in France!" I spat at her. A pair of arms suddenly grabbed my waist, lifting me from the ground. I didn't get to see the lady's expression before I was thrown down and against the wall.

"What were you thinking, Adéle?" Enjolras chided. "She could of call the police on you!" his face was like a rock. His cheeks were red and a lock of his blond curly hair fell across his broad forehead.

"I'm sorry, Enjolras. But I hate it when people treat the poor like that." I said. I felt a tear stream down my cheek. With this, Enjolras's face immediately shifted.

"It's alright, Adéle. Just please don't do that again," I nodded, showing I understood. "I don't know what I would do if I knew something happened to you." He stared at me in the eyes. That's when I realized how close he was to me. His face was only about a few inches from my face. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. He let his eyes drop, as if he was ashamed of what he just said. He took a step back and crossed his arms uncomfortably.

"Why do you do that?" I maintained my stare on him.

"Do what?" he seemed confused, though I'm sure he knew what I was talking about.

"Why do you always seem embarrassed when you say something nice to me?"

He sighed. "I just don't want you to think I-"

"Enjolras! What are you doing?" a boy a little bit younger than Enjolras asked. I recognized him. He must be one of Enjolras's friends.

"What is it, Grantaire?" Enjolras asked, his mood rapidly changing.

"There's no time to explain. You need to come now," Grantaire was sweating and panting. He must've sprinted.

"Come on," Enjolras motioned for me to come with him.

All three of us headed to the Amis de ABC. We were walking pretty fast, so it didn't take us very long to get there. We stepped inside the café and I noticed something very unusual: nobody was drinking. Instead, the boys were all huddled together. I wasn't sure what could be so interesting. Enjolras, Grantaire, and I forced ourselves through some boys to see what the trouble was. Enjolras stood right next to me.

I saw a man. He was sitting in a chair with blood pouring out of a wound on the side of his forehead. He was tied with ropes around his waist and hands. He was breathing but he clearly was unconscious.

"Who is this?" Enjolras asked.

"He said his name is Javert," Grantaire scratched his cheek. "He tried to join us to get our plans from the enemy. But he came back and we figured out he was actually an inspector."

"He was planning to stab us in the back," said Combeferre. He frowned as he took a drag from his pipe.

"What happened to him?" Enjolras said, examining his wound.

"I did what I had to do," Combeferre sat on one of the bar stools behind him. "We already checked him. He had this is his coat pocket." He handed Enjolras a gun. Enjolras thought for a minute about this news.

"We don't have time for this. Take him to the back," he motioned to the room where I woke up yesterday. Two boys dragged the chair to the back room. "Now. We must decide where to set up our barricades." Enjolras stated, changing the subject back the the revolution.

"I vote that we set it up in front of Café Musain." I said.

Enjolras twisted his neck back so I was in his line of vision. "What?"

"How about in front of Musain?" I repeated. I hoped he didn't think I was crazy. This time, he turned so he was facing me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was expressionless.

"What do you guys think?" he consulted the rest of the group. There were grumbles from the boys.

"Sounds good to me," I heard somebody say between the murmurs.

"That's a great place to set up the barricade," Enjolras said. I smiled, but he didn't.

"Tomorrow we will set up the barricade," He concluded. "But first, we will need more guns and powder."

"You can count of me to get the guns, Chief." Grantaire stood up from his seat.

"You can count of me to get the powder!" I heard somebody shout.

"Yeah. And you can count on me to get the wine!" Combeferre joked. Small laughs came from the boys. I felt a hand lay on my shoulder.

"Come with me." The person whispered. I turned to see Marius behind me.

What could he possibly want from me?

I followed him outside the café. He stopped suddenly.

"Whatever your trying to do is not going to work," He said completely out of context.

"What are you talking about?" I was confused.

"I know you're trying to get Enjolras's attention. For what, I do not know." he replied, crossing his arms across his small chest. Then he continued, "Enjolras doesn't believe in love anymore. Not with the revolution on his shoulders."

"How can he not believe in love?" I questioned.

"I don't know. But I am telling you what I do know. He can't love you, he won't let himself," Marius showed no sign of pity.

I felt terrible hearing this news. How could he not let himself love? I thought that was impossible. My heart hurt for him.

"Let's get back inside. They're going to think we're doing something strange out here if we stay out too long," he said opening the door for me. We both walked inside. Marius wasn't kidding when he said they were going to tease us.

"Is Marius in love at last?" Combeferre blew out smoke from his pipe. Marius shot him a glare, but Combeferre only snickered.

"Where did you two go?" Enjolras asked me. I quickly looked into his deep, dark eyes, but looked down. If Marius was right about Enjolras-I could hardly think about it.

"Outside."

He gave me a worried glance before he returned to his planning. I sat tiredly in the chair that was closest to me.

"Give me some wine," I slightly demanded. I might as well try to forget about this night.

"Are you sure?" Grantaire smirked, holding a bottle in his hand.

"Yes, I'm sure!" I laughed. I took the bottle out of his hand and took a large gulp.

"Hey! That was mine!" Grantaire shouted, a laugh cutting his voice. It was weird. I hated the taste, yet I still drank it, satisfied.

"Easy, Adéle. That stuff is powerful," Marius chuckled from across the table. I sighed and slammed the bottle on the table. I immediately felt dizzy. I felt as though I might fall off my chair. I held onto the table strongly. My vision became blurry around the edges. "Told you," Marius smiled, noticing my state.

"Hand me another one, Grantaire," I reached out. He handed another bottle to me, this time it was full. He let out a chuckle. I drank the bottle quickly, just as I had before.

"Even Combeferre can't even drink that fast!" Grantaire was staring at me in awe.

---

While we were walking, Enjolras had to carry me because I was so delirious.

"You drank a lot of wine tonight," He said, grunting under my weight. Despite my delirious state, I could feel his strong muscles wrapped around my body, flexing with each of his steps.

"Yeah," was all I could really say. What else was there to say anyway? I was not going to bring up what Marius told me.

"We're here," Enjolras set me down carefully. I almost fell over, but he caught me and steadied me on my feet.

"Thank you again." I showed gratitude.

"You're welcome. Goodnight," with this, he walked off.

I watched him leave until his figure was too tiny to see. I sighed once more before I opened the door to my home.