A/N: THIS IS NOT AN ACTUAL CHAPTER.
Trying something different here. So, I hope you won't get too bored...Enjoy!


...

Of Hockey, Harmonies, and Husbands

Altered and Deleted Scenes

...

Altered Scene: Chapter 20

There was always a wandering pair of eyes watching her when she entered a room, especially in a bar scene. She was used to men ogling at her when she walked somewhere - even on the days she never wore make-up. She didn't understand it, but she learned how to deflect the attention, she learned how to stay away from men like those, and she very well learned how to put her foot down.

So, Azelma just kept her head bowed as she sat at the bar waiting for the one person who asked her to come here, ignoring some of the obvious stares. She had sat in an hour and forty-five minutes of traffic, so this better be good.

Hearing footsteps approach, Azelma lifted her head, expecting to see Enjolras but was then met with the bronze-haired bartender heading her way. He had on a smug grin as he eyed her up and down.

Instantly, she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "If you say anything to me that isn't 'Can I help you?' then you can turn around right now and sure as hell leave me alone. I'm not here for you to flirt with me, so wipe that smirk off your face and walk away."

The bartender pursed his lips, obviously amused by her already. Undeterred, he walked closer to her. "Well that's sure one way to be greeted," he joked, holding up his palms to her. "So, can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Enjolras." She was blunt and to the point; her words as icy as her stare.

"You're looking at him."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not playing games."

"Alright, fine," he sighed. "Tell me your name and I'll get him."

"Don't you have a job to be doing?" she quipped.

"Oh honey, I am doing my job."

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "So, flirting is on your job description?"

"In here we like to call it: interacting with clientele."

She blew out a breath of air, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "So, where is he?" she demanded.

"I didn't catch your name," he easily responded.

Her face turned rigid. "'Zelma. Happy now?"

"Well, I'm Courfeyrac. It's nice to meet you. You seemed a little inept at starting conversations, so I'm just showing you how it's done, sweetheart."

Mouth falling open in shock, Azelma crossed her arms over her chest. "Where's Enjolras?"

Courfeyrac's brows furrowed. "You seem a little hung up on him. Perhaps there is a secret love affair I don't know about? Which is weird because Enj tells me everything."

"Me and Enjolras are not together," she stated abruptly, not forsaking to let him hear the air of anger in her tone.

"Hey, hey! Not my business if he wants to keep his relationship a secret. I'd just appreciate him telling me so I'd know if you were off the market."

"For God's sake! Just tell me where he is or in two seconds I'm gonna hop behind the bar and look for him."

"Then you won't find him here. He's in the bathroom. Some woman clogged up the toilet." He leaned one elbow on the counter, bringing his head closer to hers. "So my advice is if you gotta go, just hold it until you get home."

She exhaled exasperatedly. "You don't know when to give up, do you?" she finally smirked.

"Years of practice," he said, righting himself up and flexing his knuckles. "He'll be out in a minute. Well, he should be."

"Finally!" she announced, a bit too over dramatically. "Finally. A normal and useful piece of information."

"And what? My name isn't normal?"

"Or useful," she muttered.

He looked genuinely at her for the first time, simpering down at her. "You're really something."

"Courfeyrac!" Enjolras hollered to which both turned their heads to see him walking up behind Courfeyrac. He smiled to Azelma quickly before he looked to Courfeyrac. "Would you stop bothering her? He's bothering you, isn't he?"

She drifted her eyes over to Courfeyrac again with a grin. "Not anymore."

Quickly, Enjolras darted his eyes between the two and still not getting it, he clapped his hands together once. "C'mon, Azelma, I've got something to talk to you about." He nodded to an empty table across the way.

A/N: For this scene, I was experimenting with Azelma and Courfeyrac meeting and then developing a romantic relationship, but I realized it would take too long...so I made them already involved.

...


Altered Scene: Chapter 27

Peacefully, the snow fell around her. She didn't mind the brisk cold or the chilled snowflakes that landed on her flushed skin. Though her world was a warfare, it seemed that the actual world was at peace. It was full of white and clean promises. A breath of fresh air that promised hope.

Yet she knew that hope was beyond her reach and Éponine did not deserve that hope.

Slowly, she took her hesitant steps one by one down the back porch and into the deep snow. The weight of the world pressed on her, her thoughts would not let her find a moment's rest. The snow was fitting in her melancholy state - perhaps the angels were crying with her.

She took a deep breath, looking straight ahead and determined at the blinding snow. "I took my love and took it down..." she began to sing. But her song was no more than a whisper, nothing more than broken words strung together. "I climbed a mountain and I turned around..."

Each step through the snow felt as if it took all of her strength. The weight of her thoughts held her to the ground, making each step feel like it were a thousand pounds. Hugging her arms around herself she pressed on, "And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills..."

The blinding snow reflected the light of the sun, holding the promise that that things would get better for her. But only if she kept going. But it's hard to keep going. It's easier to fall. Another trudge through the snow with another soft crunch of it beneath her. "Till the landslide brought me down..."

She gazed up toward the sun, only to see a stream of white in her vision. The snow was falling heavier now. The gleam of the sun seemed to be fading. "Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?" she questioned in her broken song. She didn't know what true love was. There had never been true love in her life, it was all a lie. Her hand slid down her arm and fell over her stomach. Gripping it was all tender and compassion, she wondered if this is what true love was? The tears were threatening to fall once again. "Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?" Her eyes closed and her feet stopped. She curled herself up, fighting back the sob as hard as she could. "Can I handle the seasons of my life?" she cried.

Was she really strong enough to do this? Was there really a choice for her after all? Was she ready to give up everything she's ever known now that she's learned it's been a lie? She never wanted change, she never asked for change. Yet here is was.

Her body shook from the force of her emotions, never mind the cold. "Well, I've been afraid of changing...'Cause I've built my life around you..." It was true. Her life was built for her husband, for everything he did for her and everything she did for him even if the balance was uneven. Her father told her marriage was give and take. She certainly gave...and gave and gave, and he certainly took. Only recently did she actually realize how unequal her marriage was. All of it had been lies and conforming to his ideals. She had never had the chance to be her own person. She was made of lies.

"...but time makes you bolder...even children get older..."

Her feet tried to move again. She desperately wanted to keep moving, she wanted to keep pressing on, but she couldn't. The wind whipped through her as she stood, and all she could do was huddle into herself, trying to become small and find sense in any part of her life. Her voice was broken now, full of tears and pain, barely audible to anyone if they were listening, "...and I'm getting older too."

She sucked in her breath, closing her eyes and letting the tears slip out on her exposed skin. "Well, I've been afraid of changing..." Her voice was growing as she was finding the determination to keep speaking the words that said everything she couldn't. "'Cause I've built my life around you...but time makes you bolder..." She was singing through the tears now, straining her blurry vision to watch the streaks of white in front of her, not caring how broken her voice was, "Even children get older, and I'm getting older too..."

And the realization hit her. "Oh, I'm getting older too..."

Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. She buried her face in her hands letting the sobs rack through her frame. Her hand left her face and clutched her stomach. Through the water in her vision, she gazed down at her flat stomach, knowing it wouldn't be long now. The snow flakes fell steadily, not caring if they covered her as they made their decent to earth. It seemed like an eternity before she found her voice again, even if it was only a whisper. "I take my love...take it down..."

She dropped her head in despair and dropped the love in her heart. "I climb a mountain and turn around..." Raising her voice a bit higher now, she sang, "And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills...will the landslide bring you down?"

She let her bare hands grab the snow in fistfuls. She was shivering and frozen to the bone, teeth clattering and lips blue but she didn't care. This was her misery. She held up a fistful of snow and let it trickle to the ground with the rest of the snowfall.

"...and if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills...will the landslide bring you down?" Her shallow breaths puffed out, "...oh...oh..."

She fell quiet. She listened to the only sound of the snow falling around her and let that be her melody. Tucking her feet to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees.

She was giving up.

"...the landslide'll bring you...down."

A/N: As you just read, the song for this scene was originally "Landslides" by Fleetwood Mac. When I was searching for a song for this scene, I was driving and flipping through the stations and suddenly this sad melody came on and I just knew that this was the song. And the words just fit. But last minute I changed the song to "As Long As He Needs Me" because I felt like an Oliver! reference resonated more with Éponine. I don't know, what do you think?

...


Altered Scene: Chapter 30

Atop the bed lay an empty suitcase which she hurriedly tired to stuff as many items into as she could. The tears were pouring from her eyes, she couldn't see anything. She cried loudly to make the silence go away. She rammed drawers closed, she yanked clothes off hangers, and sobbed wildly as she did. Piling her clothes into the suitcase, she multi-tasked to sling on her white pea coat, ready to make a break within the moment. After filling it over the brim, she tried to zip the suitcase shut, but it was in vain.

Her feeble attempts only had her landing on the floor, crying hard into the comforter on the side of the bed. Rubbing her dripping nose along the sleeve of her coat, she whimpered into the soundless air. She gripped the quilt so tightly, turning her knuckles white as she turned to wipe her eyes across it.

It seemed everywhere she went, she ran into walls. She wanted to leave now, she did, but she didn't want to go someplace far away, for yes, Montparnasse would still find her there. She wanted to go someplace where no one could find her, where she would be safe from the thoughts hounding her mind, from the physical blows, and from the torture of living.

She wanted to die.

And she was determined. This time, she was going to do it.

Racing into the kitchen, she found the delicate, sleek, carving knife. She held it carefully as she walked back into the bedroom, staring at it as if it were gold. This was it. This was the end all now. Just like that, she was making up her mind, right here and now, to die. There was no way to go forward, no reason to keep living in some hell. She yearned for the nothingness and now here it was being presented before her.

She pushed away the suitcase to make a little spot for herself on the bed. She stared longingly into the knife, catching a glimpse of her eye in the light of it. If she was going to do this, could she really go without saying anything? What about a note?

No, she was too distraught to write.

But a phone call. One that would leave her husband racing to get here, only to find her dead. But did Montparnasse even deserve that? No. He deserved the torture of finding her.

But Enjolras. Yes, she could call him. And she could let him take care of Montparnasse. She could picture it now, she could see her dead body lying there as Montparnasse stood over her, blank expression shrouding his face. Then Enjolras would appear and he would fight Montparnasse, he would make sure he knew just what he did to her.

Rapidly, Éponine reached over and grabbed the phone from its dock. She dialed in the number she knew by heart - the number for just in case.

Her heart thudded as she waited for him to pick up, and after six long thuds, he finally answered. "Hello?"

"Enjolras," she croaked weakly. There was no masking the pain and the tears in her voice. And this time she didn't care.

"Éponine? What's going on? Are you packed yet?"

"No, Enjolras. I won't be leaving."

"No, Éponine. Come on. We talked about this. Why don't you - "

"I am going to go, Enjolras. Somewhere far away. Somewhere where Montparnasse can't find me and someplace where you can't come."

"'Ponine..."

"I'm sorry it has to end like this. But I can't do it anymore. There is no point in staying here. What is the point of running when he comes again? I'll never be safe."

"Éponine, you're scared. I get that. Please, but you're talking nonsense. I'll be right there."

"You'll be too late. I'll be leaving now, and I just wanted to tell you goodbye. You've helped me so much, Enjolras. I'm thankful for everything you've done. And I'm sorry I must leave you like this."

"You're scaring me, please, Éponine."

"I'm sorry," she whispered slowly.

"Épon - "

"Goodbye, Enjolras."

She hung up the phone, closing her eyes as a few more tears found their escape. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, looking down at her stomach.

The phone began ringing again, but she ignored it as she slowly stood from the bed. She positioned the knife above her heart and immediately, the wind blasted into the windows again. She tried to ignore it, praying for a quick release this time, praying for a painless way out. The wind whipped again, clawing at the windows as if trying to stop her. It howled and screeched, begging her.

She lowered the knife, staring out into the blueness that had befallen now that the sun sunk down. Perhaps the wind was right, or perhaps it only wanted to watch?

Éponine rubbed her eyes again as she carefully and methodically opened the french doors and walked out onto the deck. The snow pooled to her ankles as she stepped outside, knife still in hand. The light from the bedroom illuminated the back deck, making the snow glisten like crystals. She could feel the wind brushing past her as it raced into the bedroom from the open door, but she stared straight ahead into the lining of the trees.

One foot at a time, Éponine stepped through the snow, until she was down the four steps and out into the yard. She walked farther into the blurring wind, not at all feeling bothered by the cold. It felt like icicles cutting right through her sleeve but she smiled.

Finally, she came to a big and tall tree, the one where she had seen her deer, the one watching her with perplexed eyes. Perhaps she would see it again? But it didn't matter, for now, she was ready to do it. She was ready to die.

A/N: Originally, I wrote the ending scene many different ways, but I kept running into logistical errors. But for this scene, I went back to the Brick and remember how twisted Éponine's thoughts actually were; how she wanted to bring Marius to the barricade so he would die along with her. Then neither her or Cosette could have him. So, I channeled her feelings from Hugo and wrote how she would get back at Montparnasse (in the Brick - Cosette) for what he (she) has done to her and how her actions would essentially hurt Enjolras (Marius) in the process of her own vendetta.

But then in the end, I scratched this idea and wrote what you just read in Chapter 30.

...


Deleted Scene: Chapter 23

"Enjolras!" Courfeyrac hollered, slapping the counter on his way to the kitchen. "Round of beers at table six! Guinness."

The blonde bartender sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he reached under the counter to grab a bottle of Sprite. "Who in the world is drinking beer at three in the afternoon?" he muttered to himself. But rather than grumbling more about it, Enjolras gathered up a few glasses to place under the tap.

As he was filling up the sixth glass, the phone in his pocket began vibrating, but Enjolras let it go, knowing he had his job to do. He finished putting the beers on the tray and unsteadily picked it up, carrying it across the bar to the rowdy table full of young twenty-one year old boys. His phone began vibrating again. Choosing to ignore it, he began to hand out the beers as each kid, in turn, chose to ignore him.

Finally finishing his task, Enjolras stopped behind the bar, and pulled out his phone. It was a number he didn't recognize and so he stuffed it back in his pocket. But like clockwork, the phone began vibrating again. He picked it up tentatively.

"Hello?"

"Enjolras?!" the voice came through the phone. "Hey, it's Éponine."

"Éponine?" he said, staggered. "God, what happened? Are you okay?"

"Well...well..." she said, trying to keep in a breath, but suddenly she let it out along with every word she could think of, "...well I just don't know. Like I've been calculating over and over and I just don't know. Oh God, and Montparnasse. I just don't even know what I'm supposed to tell him. What am I supposed to do?"

"Éponine, slow down. Wait, first before you say anything else, are you safe? Do you need me to come get you? Are you hurt? Where's Montparnasse?"

"No, I'm fine. Montparnasse is at work. But please, Enjolras, I need you to do me a favor..."

"Sure. Anything. What is it?" he asked anxiously.

She paused, breath going silent and for a moment, he thought she hung up on him, but then her voice came back through the phone, slow and methodical as if she had prepared this speech hundred of times over. "I need you to get me a pregnancy test."

A/N: Ah, yes. Here you finally see what I've been referring to in the past few altered scenes - Éponine getting pregnant. I still like this idea, but for the story's sake, I cut it. It was another element that would have been too much to add in. And, I'm not too keen on writing pregnancy...so, now it's not in OHHH at all. But when I wrote early chapters, she was originally supposed to be pregnant, hence why I never mentioned about birth control or anything, but yeah...last minute decision to cut it.

...


A/N: Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this little inside look into my "cutting room floor" scenes. I do think that some of these scenes might make it into my actual novel for this story...still debating, but it would be nice to give y'all a partly different version of what you've read already should this ever by a miracle be published.

Also, I'll just add quickly that Book II is coming...it's just taking much longer than expected. I apologize, and I hope you don't forget about this story when I finally get it up...But for now, this is goodbye. But goodbyes are not always forever, sometimes they're just a "See you later" in disguise.