Falling - A modern Enjoltaire AU

Chapter 1

A/N - Hi. This is my first time writing a fic (though I've read more than a few) but what better to start with than Enjoltaire. I hope whoever reads this enjoys it and that it isn't that bad

:) 

R pov:

Grantaire was perched on top of the rust ridden car, idily peeling more chips of its paintwork as he gnawed on the stub of his pencil. It had been Bahorel's terrible idea to invest in the broken machine. It wasn't too bad. Just in dire need of a paint job and a few tweaks around the engine, brakes and fuel tank to stop it being an inevitable deathtrap. At the moment Feuilly was under the car. He stuck his head out from underneath before shooting forward on the back of a skateboard and grinning up at Grantaire. Feuilly's ginger hair peeked out from underneath his flat cap in a grimey tuft of flame; smudges of oil decorated his rosy face. He stood unsteadily up and patted down his mechanics overalls.

"Coming along nicely, hey R!" Feuilly grabbed a spanner before disappearing below again. This left Grantaire snorting in disbelief above him as he continued working with a cheery off tune whistle and numerous bangs and clatters.

Feuilly had taken the small after school job at the garage on the condition that he could fix their car as long as it did not get in the way of any of the customer's own vehicles.

Today, however, the garage was empty. The slow Saturday afternoon dragged on with only Grantaire's friends filling the lazy silence. From the back room Bahorel's music boomed as the teenager propped his legs up onto the manager's paperwork and tapped frantically away on his phone. For some reason he had made the mistake of letting Bossuet cut his long hair. Bossuet was now sweeping up the remains of Bahorel's locks and switching off the razor. His apologies had been echoing from the room for the past half an hour, barely drowned out by the songs (Bossuet's initial cry had been so loud it had completely burst through Bon Jovi's deafening ballad ). Joly finished off Bossuet's masterpiece by placing a montage of hello kitty plasters on Bahorel's shorn head to cover the small cuts. Now due to his friend's intense clumsiness he matched Bossuet baldness, granted he still had rough and uneven hair in certain places.

Grantaire was constantly updated about the hilarious situation by Jehan who was curled in the corner of the room on a cushion. Jehan as usual was garbed in a light floral shirt, knitted beige jumper and baggy black jeans with an impossible amount of pockets. Normally this combination would have clashed but Jehan's fashion sense never ceased to amaze Grantaire with its sheer audacity to work. His strawberry blond hair was platted back in a loose braid that reached his hip. Jehan was a year younger than the rest of the group but had joined their class because of his advanced and eloquent writing skills.

Grantaire got up with a groan to retrieve his sketchbook. Jehan came back to the car with him. Soon they were both lounging across the bonnet. Jehan was talking non stop to Feuilly about his poems and multiple crushes. Feuilly laughed fondly each time Jehan became faster as he got more excited, telling him to slow down with a chuckle. Grantaire drowned out their babble and sketched ideas for the car. They still hadn't agreed on a base colour but on the bonnet Grantaire had been enlisted to spray paint a simple design.

After a while a loud ping came from his phone. He pulled it out. It was a text from Ponine, his room mate.

The*main*money*earner: Where are you boys?

Not_sober_try_again: Garage

He replied.

The*main*money*earner: Cool. Chetta and I are going to club tonight. Should we pick u guys up?'