Jehan’s greatest passions were poetry, music, ballet and figure-skating, and he counted himself lucky enough to be paid for executing the last one. He had started skating when he was six, after he’d seen Alain Javert win gold at the winter olympics. After that, Jehan had quickly climbed up the professional ladder: At age 11 he won the youth-nationals, at 14 he placed eighth in the youth-European Championships, where he could have won a medal, but got a knee injury. When he was sixteen, he made a comeback, suprising everybody when he placed second in the French National Championships, and the year after even more when he got in fourth in the World Championships.
Jehan knew that, technically, this could mean he’d be invited to the Olympics of 2014, but he didn’t count on it. There were skaters much better than him, who were less of a risk; after his knee injury and operation at 14, he still wore braces for them, and at times still had serious problems with them. So whwn he did get the invite to join the team as a soloist on the team event and to participate in the solo-event for men, he had screamed, called his coach, cried, called his father and had cried some more. He was going to the Olympics! He was going to dance with the legendary Enjolras, with all those others, and receive training from Javert, who had gotten him into this sport in the first place!
Just a week before they would leave for the opening ceremony, Jehan learnedwhat exactly was going on in Russia. He had been ignoring all the news in order to train before, but when he saw something about a gayrights activist being beaten to pulp trying to get justice for her murdered brother, Jehan did some research and he got absolutly pissed. He immediatly had a shitload of rainbowpatterned cockades made, all in secret.
On the night of the Opening Ceremony, and the entire French deligation stood waiting for their sign, Jehan pinned a cockade on his chest, and one in his hair, before he asked a giant Icehockey player to be lifted on his shoulders. (Jehan was by far the smallest male of France.) When he sat there, he called for some attention, and when some people were looking at him, the eightteen year old took a breath, and said: ‘I..Um, I had these made-’ He motioned to his cockade- 'Because um, I wanted to show support and protest a little bit… I can’t just sit around and watch what they are doing to my people. I..’ He bit on his lower lip, and took a moment before continuing: 'I have more, so.. I was hoping you’d want some too… So, anyone?’ He held up the plastic bag he’d managed to smuggle in, containing the cockades, hopefully looking at the French sporters.