Enjoltaire Week | Day 1 | Painting
Summary: Three portraits are discovered in a hidden cellar in Paris, all three dating back from the nineteenth century. What’s weird is that the man in the portraits looks an awful lot like Enjolras. What’s weirder is that the paintings are all signed “R.”
Tags: Modern AU; Reincarnation AU; Rated G
Word count: 3.5k
“Remind me why anyone would choose to watch what is considered to be the worst movie in history?”
Enjolras sat on the couch and balanced a huge bowl of popcorn on his lap. Courfeyrac’s picks for movie night were usually more mainstream and understandable. Well. As understandable as romantic comedies could be, but at least they didn’t require much brain activity. At least it allowed Enjolras to switch off his brain and shove handfuls of popcorn into his mouth while wondering how heteronormativity and dumb misunderstandings had become such crowd-pullers.
“That’s because it’s an experience!” Courfeyrac argued, slumping on the couch next to Enjolras and seriously compromising the balance of the popcorn bowl. “As your best friend, I just can’t let you die a Room virgin!”
“What’s so great about it, anyway?”
“Everything! The acting is so bad! It’s like… You know how people say that if you let monkeys in a room full of typewriters the monkey would eventually end up rewriting Shakespeare? Well switch the monkeys with aliens who only have a vague idea of how human interactions work and you’ve got The Room! It’s flipping fantastic!”
Enjolras shrugged. The enjoyment of intrinsically bad media was beyond him.
“There are some really interesting studies about trash movies and their ironical audience, actually,” Combeferre chimed in as he joined them in the living room. He brought heavy-looking pizza plates that he settled on the coffee table before settling next to Courfeyrac. “Something about collectively liking something so bad that it gets good.”
“Exactly!” Courfeyrac exclaimed, triumphant. “So sit back and brace yourself for this absolute masterpiece.”
He switched on the TV and started rummaging through the pile of DVDs to find the right one. Automatically, the first channel popped up on screen. The news were still on and a generic news anchor looked at the three of them in the eyes.
“Wait,” Enjolras said before Courfeyrac could switch on the DVD player.
“And tonight we come back on an incredible discovering in Paris earlier today,” the news anchor announced, “when three paintings were discovered in a cellar in the Latin Quarter. The three works of art allegedly date back from the nineteenth century and predate the Haussmanian renovations of the capital. For more on this story, we go to Olivier Barron in the Latin Quarter, Olivier?”
The three paintings appeared on screen. Silence fell on the living room, leaving nothing but the artificial chatter of the television. In his seat, Enjolras turned to stone.
“-Twitter already rushed to title the works names such as ‘Apollo in Red’-”
That jaw line. That nose. The same eye colour. Enjolras’ throat tightened. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
“Holy shit,” Courfeyrac whispered. “Enj, it’s you!”