[A/N]: Because I need to rant, this was born. This drabble is based on reality. Just want to let it out before it gets too constrained. After this, I'm sleeping.

Hope you like it, though.


Song

"You have a tendency to overdo it. And when you do that, you become dragging and boring. You sound old," her voice coach commented, playing the aria of the piece she was supposed to sing for the recital.

She just smiled, embarrassed, and sat dejectedly on the chair behind her, murmuring her apologies in a small and defeated voice. Her other classmates just looked down, trying not to look at her. She could feel their pity.

She felt disgusted with herself.

She tried not to let it get to her. Tried to fight the welling tears and cursing. Tried to sing. She just got depressed about it. It was weighing her down.

Because it got to her. Because the tears fell, and she swore. Because she couldn't sing properly.

Because it would echo, echo in her brain - it would keep on replaying - until it nearly crushed her soul.

You have a tendency to overdo it. And when you do that, you become dragging and boring. You sound old. You have a tendency to overdo it. And when you do that, you become dragging and boring. You sound old. You have a tendency to overdo it. And when you do that, you become dragging and boring. You sound old. You have a tendency to overdo it. And when you do that, you become dragging and boring. You sound have a tendency to overdo it. And when you do that, you become dragging and bo...

"I am not boring. I am not dragging. I am not yet old. I can do this. I can do this. I am not old. I am not dragging. I am not boring. I can do this. I can do this," she said to herself, trying to cheer herself up.

But it wouldn't work. The tears were starting to well up again, but she had to focus. She HAD to focus.

She has to sing.

How could she sing when her voice and diaphragm won't cooperate properly? Damn this technique! She was used to using her chest voice because it was louder and clearer. Why do women have to sing using stomach muscles? Women sound faint when they do that! Why do men have to sing with their chest voice? Men sound clearer and stronger when they do that!

Why can't she just do that?

Oh, but, of course, she will be out of breath using her chest. But she has rather large lungs to breathe with! Oh, but, of course, using the stomach is proper and easier. Why, Mariah Carey uses her butt, stomach, and lungs! How about that?

Why can't she do things right? Why can't she follow instructions properly? Why can't she do it? Why does it always have to be like this? Why does everything she have to do always go second or become an epic fail?

"What is wrong with me?" she asked herself, gasping and blinking the tears away.

She paced to and fro, repeating her mantra. "I am not boring. I am not dragging. I am not yet old. I can do this. I can do this. I am not old. I am not dragging. I am not boring. I can do this. I can do this. I can sing. I can sing. I can sing. I can sing."

Behind her, Enjolras entered the threshold and saw Eponine, looking frantic and weary. Raising a golden brow, he frowned. So he put his backpack and coat down before carefully threading his way to her.

As he neared, he heard her say, "I am not boring. I am not dragging. I am not yet old. I can do this. I can do this. I am not old. I am not dragging. I am not boring. I can do this. I can do this. I can sing. I can sing."

He heard her repeat these statements once more before her voice broke. Enjolras decided that it was time. So he hugged her from behind and heard her gasp loudly.

"Enjolras," she said, turning to face him and putting her arms around his waist.

Enjolras smiled softly and ran a hand across her back. He watched as her eyes fluttered close for a bit, and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. Then she said, "I'm sorry. Bad day at pratice. My voice coach told me I sounded boring, dragging, and old. So, yeah, here I am, trying to cheer myself up."

Looking up at him, she tried to smile, but Enjolras saw the pain in her eyes. Shaking his head, he caressed her cheeks and let his forehead rest on hers.

"I know you'll probably beat me up when I start saying positive things when you're so down and all. But you said you wanted to cheer yourself up. But I will be honest, so don't worry about sugarcoating things. So hear me out: you're not yet confident. You still get afraid of crowds watching you sing. You still get nervous. I'll say, that's fine. It's all right. But you have to face it, and I know you can. You have a sweet, darling, rich voice that everyone should pay attention to. I love your voice. I love hearing it. It will never bore or drag me. Or even sound old. You have a very dramatic voice, so you'll just have to learn how to control it. You can face the music," he said earnestly, holding her close and seeing her eyes fill with a few tears.

Eponine closed her eyes, before she said, "What if I mess up in the middle of singing?"

Enjolras breathed, closing his eyes, too, before answering, "Then you will continue, no matter what happens. Don't care. Just let it be. Don't think of them. Think of me. Make me proud. Focus on that, and sing. Just sing, as if you were only singing for me."

"Okay. Okay," she responded, holding his face.

Opening his eyes, he grasped her right hand and drew circles on it with his thumb. Moments later, he saw Eponine open hers and leaned in. Smiling, Eponine let her lips softly graze his as she said, "Thank you."

He smiled and fully let their lips touch as his fingers ran through her dark curls. Feeling her sigh, Enjolras moved back and then said, "You can do it."

And she did that day when she gazed at him as she sang.

She can do it.

They simply knew.


[A/N]: Relatable?