A/N Hey :) I wrote this during Maths, because, let's face it, Maths is really boring. Especially algebra. Meh. Oh, and this is based on the musical or movie, but a bit on the brick (well doh! It's got Azelma in it!). And I completely reinvented Azelma. She's snarky. Victor Hugo didn't give me much to work with. Heehee. Well, I don't really know what else to say... Except maybe, reviews much appreciated?

'Ponine's making me come to another meeting. Again. Because, apparently, I can't be trusted by myself, and "there is no way I'm leaving you to damge my pride any further than you already have". I don't know what she's talking about. In fact, I think she's just dragging me along for morale support, because whenever she sees student-with-freckles she goes bright red. Or maybe it's student-with-glasses. Or poems. I don't know, they all look the same to me...

'Ponine sits me on a chair and tells me not to move. Really. Because obviously the seventeen year old pickpocket is incapable of looking after herself. I mean, I've only broken three vases, lost two francs and accidentally trodden on student-who-does-speeches toe once. But that wasn't really an accident, he was starting to annoy me.

So, I am stuck by myself. Again. And I have nothing to do. Again. And student-who-flirts is pointing at me. Again. And after this, student-who-does-speeches will make another speech, student-who-is-drunk wil say something stupid and 'Ponine will talk to student-with-freckles. Nothing ever changes, apart from maybe my sanity.

"Azelma!" 'Ponine calls. Oh no... She's probably said something offending to student-with-freckles and I'm the one who is going to have to get her out of deep water. Again. Did I mention that everything is always the same?

Ponine drags me to the corner of the café.

"He's met some girl, 'Zelma," she whispers, "and he wants me to find out who she is, where she lives."

"Mm-hm." I nod, half-listening, half wondering if it would look too repetitive if I stood on student-who-flirts toe as well.

"Azelma!" 'Ponine snaps, waving her hand in front of my face, "Are you even listening to me?"

"And then," I mutter, "student-who-does-speeches might get annoyed, but it would probably be worth it for the look on his fa- Oh! Yes, um, what were we talking about?"

"Marius."

"Marius?"

"Marius is... Oh, never mind. You wouldn't care anyway."

"Wait! Marius is... the one who does the speeches?"

"No."

"The one with the poems?"

"No."

"Um... the drunk one?"

"No."

"Ooh! I know! The one with glasses!"

"Look, Azelma, just don't worry about it, OK?"

I shrug. Well, that's one less Éponine crisis I need to think about. 'Ponine stalks off and leaves me alone at the table with only a twig for company. Nice twig, I muse, nice and... twig-like. Yes. Twigs are twig-like, well, the good ones are anyway.

"Are you using that chair?" A voice slurs from behind me. I turn round - it's student-who-is-drunk. I fold my arms across my chest.

"Does it look like I'm using that chair?" I scowl, rolling my eyes.

"No."

'Well, I am. I am using it to rest my feet on."

"No you're not."

"I will do. At some point in the near future."

"Maybe you will, but I think you'll find I'm going to use that chair."

"But I am using it!"

I rest my feet on the seat of the chair, just to prove a point, but student-who-is-drunk shoves them off and and slumps down on it himself. He grins, takes another swig from his bottle and rests his feet on the table.

"You aren't a bad looking girl, you know." he winks.

"Wow, Monseiur." I say, "Just wow. You don't even know my name and you're already flirting with me? That must be some kind of record. And honestly, just how many girls have you said this to today?"

He begins to count on his fingers.

"Seven? Give or take a few?"

I kick his chair, which probably does more damage to me than him, or even the chair. Scowling, I follow his lead and rest my legs on the table.

"Imitation shows admiration." he nods.

I throw my stick at him.