Every Saturday afternoon, six-year-old Grantaire would pester his mother to take him to the playground just down the street from their home. She was always pleased, of course, to take her son. Although Grantaire didn't necessarily play with other children, more like watch them play. The young child was content just simply watching the others play while he drank a grape juice box… or two… or three.

Today was a particularly beautiful day. The afternoon sun shone through the colorful foliage of the large oak tree that was centered in the middle of the park. Shouts of youngster's laughter floated through the air and the occasional breeze that would pass by could only be described as perfect. Yes, today was a beautiful day.

When they arrived at the park, Grantaire sat at a bench. His bench, as he liked to call it. His mother sat down beside him with a book at hand. It didn't matter to her if her son didn't play with the other kids. He was her special little boy and if he was happy just sitting on a bench, she was happy too. Grantaire swayed his little dangling legs above the ground and began his "people watching."

It was always the same kids that ran around the playground. They all seemed to be around the same age as Grantaire and he thinks he knows some of their names now. First, there are the two boys who are completely inseparable. One had a very freckled face and chestnut brown hair. Grantaire learned that this boy's name was Marius and his shaggy, dark-haired friend was Courfeyrac.

Then there were those silly girls that sat under the big oak tree who watched the boys play. One of the girls was a cute little blonde whose name he learned was Cosette. Her friend was a smidge taller than she was and had long wavy brown hair. This girl's name was Éponine. Grantaire saw them giggling and whispering. He finally concluded that they were giggling and whispering about the freckled boy, Marius. Pfft, girls, thought Grantaire.

Wait. Who is that?

A new kid, whom Grantaire had never seen here before, was playing in the sandbox by the swing sets. He had long, pale blond locks that fell into his serious looking eyes. He seemed concentrated on his actions of making what almost looked like a wall. Grantaire took a sip of his grape juice and continued to observe him.

Next, the unfamiliar boy gathered an arm full of sticks from under the oak tree and brought them back to the sandbox. He placed them in a crisscross fashion along the wall of sand. This didn't make sense to Grantaire and he was now extremely curious. He hopped down from his bench and marched his way towards the boy and his funny wall.

"What are you doing?" Grantaire asked.

"I'm building a barricade," replied the boy in a factual tone. The boy reached into his back pocket of his trousers and pulled out a handful of toy army men and a little red flag. Grantaire just remained outside the sandbox and watched him position the army men in front of the wall and some on top of it. Then came time for the little red flag.

"La pièce de résistance," said the boy happily, placing the flag on the wall of sand. He stood looking down at his creation, quite proud. The boy remembered he had Grantaire as a spectator and turned to him.

"What's your name?" asked the boy.

"Grantaire."

"I'm Enjolras."

"That's a funny name," teased Grantaire.

"It is not!" exclaimed Enjolras. Grantaire figured this kid had a short temper. Perfect. Grantaire pretended to inspect Enjolras' barricade as if he himself was an expert.

"You did it wrong," Grantaire told him, glancing back at him to await his reaction.

Enjolras put his hands on his hips and yelled, "No, I did not!"

"Yes, you did."

Enjolras' eyes were full of fire at the comment. "What do you know about building barricades, anyway?"

Grantaire remained silent, but a mischievous smirk still rested on his lips. It was in this moment that Grantaire realized his love for teasing Enjolras. He could do this all day.

"More than you."

He didn't. However, that got the response he wanted.

"You. Are. Truly. Infuriating," Enjolras said through his teeth. All Grantaire could do was giggle.

Then, what happened next seemed to play out in slow motion. A bigger kid of whom Grantaire did not recognize came rushing towards them. The kid had a wild look in his eye and was not slowing down his pace. Before anyone could stop him, the worst had occurred.

Enjolras' barricade had been completely destroyed.

Enjolras dropped to his knees and grasped at the sand, and held onto the little red flag that had fallen from its post. The poor boy was devastated. The blazing fire that once occupied his youthful ocean-colored eyes had been extinguished.

Grantaire left the blond haired boy and ran back to his bench only to return with something for the two of them.

Two grape juice boxes.

Once again, Grantaire got the response he wanted from Enjolras – a smile.