#trifecta time

It was three days before Les Amis' first big rally. Enjolras had been in correspondence with other organization leaders, finding out how many people were expected (at least two thousand), the schedule (from 8 am on Thursday to midnight on Friday if everything went according to plan), and flyers to hand out (impact font seemed to get people angry). He still had to email the other officers and have a proper conversation with all of them (despite two being with him, if he started saying things now he would forget details later), and finish the approval of their permit. So all in all, jumping into walls trying to fit into a pair of incredibly tight pants (had he gained weight recently?) and trying to make a supposedly "fashionable" neck scarf seem less suffocating seemed rather trivial. But after a struggle he at least decided to leave the dressing room, stepping out into the hall, scowling at his reflection in the three-panel mirror at the far wall. "I don't know if I can feel my legs."