Chapter Text
Jean adjusted the cuff of his suit jacket for about the hundredth time, his nerves slowly building up in his chest. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before stepping out of the sleek black Mercedes. The sound outside came crashing down on him like a wave, almost making him flinch, a cacophony of cheers and the sharp staccato of cameras threatened to drown him. Fans screamed names from behind velvet security ropes, each fighting for the smallest bit of attention from their favorite actor or actress. A gallery’s worth of posters, books, pictures, and shirts were being waved around in the hopes of being granted an autograph.
Jean blinked against the sudden brightness, spotlights and camera flashes painting everything a harsh, glowing blend of white and gold. He forced a practiced smile, not a genuine one, but it might as well have been, with how often he used it.
He gave a quiet sigh of relief as a staff member directed him towards his fellow castmates, all the while keeping his calm, confident facade—a persona of sorts, specially tailored to events like this.
The first familiar face he noticed was Connie’s, already putting on a performance for the cameras, sunglasses halfway down his nose and grinning like he had just won an award. Sasha was beside him, shooting the audience bright smiles and peace signs. Both of them were dressed in the same sleek black as Jean, the cast having been sent specific instructions for their wardrobe.
Jean moved through the press line, responding to the rapid onslaught of questions with short answers and responses practiced just enough to still sound off-the-cuff.
Through the energy and chaos, his attention kept drifting to the long line of fans at the barricade waiting for entry to be open to the public as the cast members made their initial appearances. Some were waving signs, others holding out 8x10s of the actors in their costumes, and many more holding up their phones to steal pictures of anyone passing by slow enough to capture. He hesitated for a moment, chewing at his bottom lip as he contemplated how willing he was to be chewed out by security.
‘Screw it.’
Jean made a quick detour, slipping past staff members and security guards until he was at the edge of the barricade, just enough distance between him and it to not be grabbed by any outstretched arms.
“I hear some of you are in need of autographs.” He called out, already reaching for a Sharpie being held out by a young girl. The fans erupted into surprised cheers, making him internally wince as he watched how they started shoving each other to get closer.
“You’ve been so amazing in the new season!”
“Your character’s development arc has been crazy!”
“I love your new look this season!”
“Can you sign this for me! And mention me to Reiner, please!”
Jean was caught a bit off guard by the last request, making him chuckle softly. He took the fan’s Sharpie, signing his name across the top corner of the poster. “I’ll let him know he has such an enthusiastic fan base.”
He managed to sign two more collectibles and duck for a selfie with a teenager in a Survey Corps jacket before his attention was drawn away by Connie.
“Kirstein! Quit hogging the spotlight and get over here!”
Jean rolled his eyes, flashing the crowd a grin before making his way over to Connie. “You’d be floundering like a fish if I didn’t set the bar for you to try and reach.”
Aside from the three of them, it seemed as if most of the older cast members, like Zeke and Levi, had already made it, standing in a group of their own as they sat through the photo ops and fan interactions, all of them waiting to be let into the conference center. Connie had already informed Jean that Armin, Mikasa, and Eren were all there but had somehow managed to get inside already. Jean also noted the presence of all the child actors from the main cast, meaning they were only waiting on a few more people, namely those that played the Marley Warrior Unit.
Jean slid into place beside Connie, once again adjusting the cuff of his jacket. He could already feel the weight of the evening sprouting from the energy of the crowd and the demands of the press. The spotlight—and the eyes of hundreds of fans—was on them.
Somewhere in the restless buzz, Jean found himself scanning the street for vehicles, half waiting for the next arrival.
Half waiting for Reiner.
Jean sighed and turned his attention back to Connie. “So, if I remember right, we have press interviews, then the Q&A panel, then the real party, yeah?” The entire time he spoke, his face never dropped, his public persona worn like a mask.
Connie nodded, although he didn’t seem to be giving Jean a single ounce of thought, still enamored with the fans and cameras. “Mhm, sounds right,” he answered distractedly.
“You are no help.” Jean complained. He met eyes with a waving fan and gave them a quick wink, earning more excited yells from the crowd as everyone in the general area swore it was them he had been looking at. He would never get used to the fans.
The sound of a car door shutting snapped Jean’s attention to the road once again.
The sudden uptick in camera flashes and the roar of the crowd were all Jean needed to know who it was despite the car being currently surrounded by photographers and staff members. The energy of the fans seemed to ebb and flow like waves of a rough storm crashing against a cliffside as each celebrity made their appearance.
Jean caught a glimpse of Reiner through the press, Annie and Bertholdt at either side of him, having seemingly arrived together. They made a striking trio, likely a side effect from all the screen time the three shared and the bond they had formed. Annie stood to Reiner’s right, cool and sharp in her fitted black pantsuit, sunglasses still perched on her nose despite the sun having long since set—much like Connie. Bertholdt was on his left, seeming quite calm and composed compared to his character’s typical demeanor. He was just a step behind them, offering small nods and warm smiles to the fans. He didn’t appear to be faring nearly as well as his companions against the onslaught of lights.
Then there was Reiner, as solid as ever, deliberate and focused. He carried with him a quiet charisma that didn’t need effort. His dark suit had an almost metallic sheen under the lights, the color sharpening his features and putting him on a plane far above everyone else, making his presence heavier. He looked like he belonged to a different world entirely from the set trailers and folding director’s chairs they practically lived in.
Jean caught himself looking at Reiner much longer than he intended to.
Their eyes met—briefly—and for a split second, everything else fell out of focus. The lights dimmed. The noise softened. Jean didn’t smile. Neither did Reiner.
Jean caught the slightest dip of Reiner’s head, so small most people wouldn’t even notice, and those who did would write it off as insignificant. But Jean knew. It was a quiet acknowledgment. A private hello shared just between the two of them.
Jean didn’t react, but he knew Reiner would understand.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Connie jeered beside him, subtly elbowing Jean in the ribs as he smiled for the cameras.
“Fashionably late, as usual,” Sasha added, waving in their direction as if they were merely guests.
Jean didn’t respond, still quietly watching Reiner, who had broken eye contact to talk to Annie in a hushed tone, leaning in close so only she could hear. Whatever was said earned an amused glance from Annie, which was quickly stifled behind her usual deadpan expression with a fix of her sunglasses. Bertholdt seemed oblivious to their small conversation, waving to the fans calling his name instead.
Staff members eventually dragged the three away from the press, leading them through the crowd of people, only to have Annie slip away to answer questions about her stunts and MMA training and Bertholdt disappear to sign autographs.
Reiner kept walking, however, making his way over to join the three. He slowed slightly as he got closer, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He gave Sasha a polite smile and a nod before shaking Connie’s hand, a gesture more for the cameras than anything. When his gaze landed on Jean, however, it lingered for just a second longer. He took his place on Jean’s right, standing just far enough to still be considered professional.
“Nice suit,” Reiner commented, voice low, just for Jean to hear.
Jean raised an eyebrow slightly. “I clean up nicely.”
“That you do,” Reiner agreed, smiling faintly.
The flash of a camera caught the angle in high definition: their heads turned slightly towards each other, stolen glances, the slightest of smiles.
Just then, one of the staff members came to finally allow the actors inside, granting them a brief reprieve from the noise and flashing lights. Jean couldn’t help but hesitate, watching as Reiner moved to regroup with Annie and Bertholdt.
Assistants with headsets and color-coded clipboards began moving around the cast, getting the actors into their pairs—or grabbing them from the rest of the group if they were wanted individually—to get ready for the press interviews. One of the event organizers was giving quick instructions to the actors.
An assistant with a dark blue clipboard held a sign with the words ‘Group B - Springer, Blouse, Kirstein’ printed in dark ink, seeming to be looking for the three of them.
Jean nudged Connie, motioning towards the assistant. “That's us.”
Connie nodded, grabbing a distracted Sasha by the arm and heading towards the assistant, “Let’s get going, then.”
Sasha bounded after him, a spring in her step that Jean guessed was from either too much caffeine or a lack of understanding regarding how long the night would be. Probably both. Jean followed alongside Connie, the three meeting up with their assistant.
They were led to one of the conference rooms in the convention center, which had been completely rearranged to be better suited for an interview. A backdrop was positioned against the far wall, featuring the name of the show surrounded by its sponsors in smaller text. A table had been set with three chairs, each with a microphone placed neatly in front of it. The table was surrounded by cameras and ring lights, with a space in between them for the interviewer to sit.
The three were directed on where to sit: Connie on the left, Jean in the middle, and Sasha on the right. The room was buzzing with busy conversation, the crew working on getting everything finalized and ready.
“Remember, keep it light and comfortable,” the assistant started. “They’ll ask for your opinions and reactions, cast bonding, fan responses—you know the drill.”
The three nodded in understanding, and without another word, the assistant was gone, disappearing behind the glare of ring lights.
They hadn’t even managed to take their seats before the reporter was already taking her seat in front of them, out of view from the cameras, her laptop open and ready on a small table of her own. “Alright, let’s get started, shall we?”
The three quickly made their way to the table. Connie plopped down onto his stool, legs a bit too far apart, and leaned back like a frat boy without a care in the world. Sasha all but swung into hers, leaning into the mic with an excited “hi” as if the interview was her personal podcast. Jean took his seat between them, a look that screamed ‘I’ve been trained to smile, but I don’t trust you reporters for a second’ on his face.
“Okay, then!” The reporter beamed, “It’s an honor to have you three here tonight. We’ll start with a simple question: how are you guys feeling now that we’re getting so close to the season finale?”
“Relieved.” Jean stated it flatly, then smiled before they could take it as anything more than playful sarcasm. “And proud. It’s been a hell of a ride, and I can say in full confidence that we’ve all poured our hearts and souls into this production.”
“Also tired,” Connie chimed in, “not just physically, like… spiritually. But in a good way, the effort has been more than worth it.”
Sasha leaned forward slightly. “I’ve cried on multiple occasions, personally. This project has been the highlight of most of our careers, and we’ve devoted literal years to it. It’s hard to believe it’s all about to be over.”
Jean snorted, “That’s because you keep getting into the wine after we get done recording.”
The laughter came easily between the three, and the reporter’s fingers flew across her keyboard, recording specific quotes and notes, a wide grin on her face as if she had just struck gold. The three fell into a comfortable rhythm, Connie acting as the comedic relief, Sasha being her bubbly, unfiltered self, and Jean being the reluctant medium—although he threw in a few jokes of his own every now and then. Jean found himself actually enjoying himself.
“Now,” the reporter started, looking up from her laptop to the three of them, “if I’m not mistaken, you three have been friends since long before this project. What was it like learning you’d get the chance to be on the big screen together?”
“The night we got the call saying we got the roles, the first thing we did was race to this guy’s place to celebrate,” Connie jumped in before the others had a chance to answer first, motioning towards Jean. “We were so excited, and then I thought we were all about to die when we learned how good of friends our characters were. It was honestly the luckiest we’ve ever gotten with roles.”
Jean nodded his agreement. “I think we’ve had the most fun with our roles out of the entire cast.”
“You should have seen the party we threw at Jean’s,” Sasha added quickly, “you’d have thought you walked into a frat house.”
“Needless to say, the three of us are extremely close.” Jean stated his affection for his best friends, evident in his voice and expression.
“Speaking of close relationships,” the reporter began, jumping on the chance to change the course of the interview. She looked directly at Jean. “Fans are dying to know, what exactly is the dynamic between you and Reiner like off-screen? You two have had quite a few shared scenes, even more so now as we get closer to the finale.”
Jean blinked, momentarily thrown.
Sasha couldn’t stop herself from laughing.
Connie grinned and leaned in close to Jean, covering the mic with his hand so it couldn’t pick up his voice. “Careful, you’re already trending,” he quipped, a wide grin on his face.
Jean exhaled slowly, his practiced response forming on his tongue before he even had time to think about it. “Reiner’s great to work with. He’s a really helpful scene partner, someone you can rely on. We’ve got our own rhythm by now that goes beyond the screen; it’s great for making sure our characters maintain their dynamic.” After a beat he added, “Although, he has an interesting knack for making every scene feel like the end of the world.”
That earned a laugh from Connie and Sasha. Even the reporter gave a quiet chuckle. Behind his grin, Jean could feel his mind drift back to Reiner and the look the two of them had shared outside. The type of look that didn’t belong in press interviews or public panels.
The reporter’s voice brought him back to the present moment as she shifted to talk to Sasha about her character’s death early on in the season and how Sasha’s role on set had changed. Sasha started prattling off about how she was grateful to have been able to stay in the studio despite her character’s absence from the show and how she now mostly helps her fellow actors while they’re filming with food runs, errands, and the like.
The interview continued, questions ranging from fan theories to on-set injuries to cast pranks and interactions. Jean answered each question, adding his own thoughts occasionally and adding onto Connie and Sasha’s responses. The whole time he could feel his attention leaving the interview, wandering across the venue to the Warrior Unit’s original trio. To Reiner. He wondered what kind of questions he was being asked and—more importantly—what his answers were.
He’d have to go back and watch the interviews once they were put on the air.
“I have one final question for you three,” the reporter stated, finishing up a note on her laptop before continuing, “We all have to know, after the emotional turmoil both the cast and audience have been put through, do we ever get any closure in this upcoming finale?”
Jean, Connie, and Sasha all looked at each other for a split second, the shared thought going straight to their NDAs.
“Well…” Jean started tentatively, “it depends on what you mean by closure. Really, it depends on who the audience is rooting for.”
“Questions are definitely answered,” Connie added, “but I think the audience may have some new questions afterwards.”
Sasha nodded her agreement. “I had to lay down after our initial table read; it gave me literal chills. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
The reporter sighed, feigning disappointment. “Is that really all you guys can give me?”
“Unfortunately so,” Jean responded, “our NDAs for this new season alone are about the size of your average chemistry textbook.”
“It’s really too much paperwork.” Sasha quipped, letting her head drop to the table dramatically, as if the thought alone brought with it the exhaustion of 10 years of work all at once.
The reporter nodded, unable to hide the small grin on her face from Sasha’s antics. “Well, in that case, thank you all for joining me tonight and helping bring some light to the workings behind such an amazing show. The pleasure has been mine.”
The three exchanged an assortment of “thank you”s, staying seated until the cameras flicked off and the ring lights dimmed. One of the assistants gave them a thumbs-up, clearing them to leave. They offered the reporter polite handshakes and smiles as they stepped away from the interview setup.
As soon as they were free and on their way back to the main lobby, Sasha let out a dramatic sigh as if she had escaped an interrogation.
“Not a single spoiler.” She stated proudly, “I didn’t even mention anything about the founder, and I’ve been dying to talk about that.”
Jean shot her a sharp look. “You just said something about the founder.”
She blinked, then cursed under her breath, causing Connie to burst out into laughter.
“Too late now,” Connie jeered, bumping her shoulder playfully, “better hope no one heard you. Our showrunner for sure just felt a disturbance in the NDA.”
“I need a coffee.” Sasha groaned; the conversation seemed to have taken everything out of her.”
“You had four on the way here,” Connie reminded her, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Besides, coffee isn’t going to fix this world-class blunder.”
“I could’ve been talking about Uri!” Sasha protested, “Or Frieda! They don’t know which founder I was talking about or the context! I could’ve been pranking the audience for all they know.”
Jean rolled his eyes. “Have fun losing favor with the audience if that’s what you want them to think.”
“Not helping,” Sasha hissed, hunching over slightly as if she could hide from the press still lurking behind the door to the conference room. “If this ends up in the tabloids, I’m jumping off a cliff.”
They quieted down and continued to make their way back towards the main lobby, Connie and Jean having decided they had harassed Sasha enough. The conversation turned to lighthearted jokes and shared memories, their laughter carrying down the hallway. It was nice and quiet. No fans, just event staff too busy and task-oriented to pay them any mind.
The group stepped into the main lobby, the fluorescent lights illuminating the space from the tall, mural-covered ceiling. The lobby, like the hallway, was mostly empty, although the staff had moved in a few tables and set up for when the fans were permitted entry to the event. Large signs hung from the ceiling, each one pointing in a different direction and labeled for each panel room.
Hall A—Young Stars Panel | Hall B—Main Cast Panel | Hall C—Veteran’s Panel
“You think the others are out already?” Sasha asked, peering down one of the branching corridors to Exhibit Hall B, where their panel would be held.
Jean nodded towards a familiar figure near one of the fan registration tables. “At least some of them—there’s Armin.”
Armin waved as they approached. He was standing under digital screens looping pictures of the cast and their different sponsors, casting different colored lights across his face. Mikasa and Eren stood not too far away from him, creating a last-minute promotional clip for the Q&A panel.
Jean noted that several of the ‘veterans’ were out of their interviews too, as well as Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner. Most of them were standing around on their phones or fixing their outfits, but Reiner was standing with his manager, speaking in a hushed tone.
“So,” Armin’s voice cut through Jean’s train of thought, “good interview?”
“Survived it.” Jean noted, “Which is more than we can say for Sasha.”
Sasha huffed, “I was doing just fine.”
“You name-dropped one of the biggest plot points in the entire finale,” Connie said, raising an eyebrow.
Jean raised a hand, making Connie pause. “I’ll give her this: she didn’t say anything until we were out of the conference room. It’s unlikely anyone heard.”
“Well, that’s good at least.” Armin sighed, seeming way too stressed already.
Before the conversation could continue, one of the staff members spoke up above the quiet buzz of conversation. “If I could get the main cast to follow me, we’re moving to Hall B for panel setup.”
The main cast members followed after the man, still engaged in quiet conversation with one another as they walked.
They were led the long way around, where the three exhibit halls connected through a shared backstage area. Several crew members were doing their final checks, moving around with practiced ease as if they had been working on the lighting rigs and sound booths all their lives. The air around them shifted as they continued walking, each of them beginning to focus more on the panel and their professional personas than personal conversations.
As the group neared the entrance to Hall B, they passed a group of the younger actors hanging around the entrance to Hall A. They didn’t have any interviews, instead being given the time to actually get into costume for their Q&A panel. They were all laughing as Falco struggled to help Gabi smuggle one of the props into her backpack. Jean watched Sasha give Gabi a kind wave, earning a grin and cheeky salute from the young actress.
They stopped just in front of the stage entrance, the muffled hum of the crowd filtering through the curtain. The energy was almost palpable. Event staff held headsets to their ears, doing final checks and providing correspondence between all of the departments.
“You’re on in five.” The stage manager informed them, “Line up behind your name cards; we’ve split you based on your characters, with Paradisians on the left and Marleyians on the right. Water bottles are already on the table for you all; mics are hot as soon as you all sit down.
Jean scanned the stage through a gap in the curtain. There were two tables put together and fitted with a black tablecloth to appear as one, presumably with the show’s name on its front, although Jean couldn’t say for sure. He took a slow breath, rolling his shoulders. Sasha stood to his right, bouncing on her heels; Connie was to his left, humming nervously. For all the public events they attended, they never could get used to the moment when they first stepped onto the stage. Reiner was a little ways away, adjusting his sleeves. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he was granted a quiet smile from Reiner that he couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Places!” Someone called from behind them.
“Showtime,” Connie murmured from beside him.
Jean gave a quiet snort of laughter.
Somewhere the stage manager must have motioned for them to enter the stage, Jean having found himself following behind Connie and into view of the piercing spotlights. There was a brief shuffling on stage, although not ungrateful, as they all took their places at the table. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, and Jean sat in order on the left-hand side of the table, followed by Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Pieck, and Porco on the right.
Jean shot Reiner a sly grin, playfully kicking his foot under the table. What luck to have been sat right next to him! Although, it definitely wouldn’t help any allegations regarding their off-stage ‘chemistry.’
Reiner’s expression didn’t change, but he leaned in closer to Jean, just enough to be able to murmur, “Are you trying to confirm rumors or start new, worse ones?”
Jean just smiled at his co-star. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve stolen the spotlight,” he answered in a hushed tone.
Reiner gave a small, deliberate blink, almost as if to say, ‘Try me.’
It was at that point the panel moderator made his way over to the podium positioned to the right of the table, microphone in hand.
“Good evening, everyone! We’re so glad you could join us tonight for our cast panel, ‘Within the Walls”! Tonight we’re joined by our Season 4 main cast,” he motioned to the cast members at the table, “while we’re here, we’ll be diving into behind-the-scenes insights, as well as questions from our studio audience. We may even find the opportunity for a few fun games with these lovely actors and actresses.”
A roar of applause and cheers erupted from the audience. Sasha waved enthusiastically, almost leaping from her chair. The other cast members waved and smiled, with just a bit less energy than Sasha.
The moderator continued, flipping through his notecards. “Our first few questions were submitted and voted on by fans online. These are for the whole cast, so feel free to jump in and discuss it as a team.” He explained, “Our first question of the night is, this season has been highly demanding emotionally; what was it like preparing for these final episodes, especially knowing how much they already mean to the fans?”
There was a pause—a familiar one that occurred every time they did an open panel—none of them wanted to go first.
Jean took it.
He leaned towards his mic slightly, his voice clear and steady. “Honestly, it’s been heavy. There’s a weight to stories like this that we as actors have to create and carry with us, especially now as we prepare to close a chapter that has meant so much to so many people. We felt that weight on set every day. None of us took it lightly.”
Sasha nodded, “It was an emotional rollercoaster. We shared our laughs, but we also shared a great deal of pain and heartache. Some scenes were definitely too much to be able to just take home and drop at the door.”
“Plenty of us have been through sleepless nights over it after table reads,” Armin continued. “Not only has this been the biggest project of most of our careers, but it’s an incredibly complex story with so many layers in it that it’s impossible not to feel something.”
“I cried watching the trailer.” Bertholdt admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He earned polite chuckles and laughs from the audience.
The moderator smiled in amusement. “So there were tears?”
Eren shrugged slightly, “Tears, coffee, rewrites, and a lot of trust. There’s no way we could have gotten through it without the support of one another.”
That gained murmurs of agreement from down the line.
The question was eventually passed to Reiner. He sat forward slightly, fingers tapping lightly against the table.
“Preparation for this season was… definitely different,” he said carefully. “There was a level of finality in those final scripts that changed everything we did as actors. There was a point where we stopped acting and started saying goodbye. We still are even now as we film the final two episodes.”
Jean’s head tilted at that. It was the word goodbye, the way Reiner’s voice dipped slightly when he said it. He wasn’t sure if anyone else had noticed.
“So filming has become more of a farewell?” The moderator offered.
“Some parts,” Mikasa admitted, “others felt more like resolution.”
Eren jumped in to follow up Mikasa’s thoughts with his own ideas, “And even then, some others felt like opening a new door.”
A quiet hum moved through the room, the audience rippling with hushed whispers and the excited exchange of ideas.
The moderator took the chance at a segue to switch gears: “Let’s move topics a bit. What’s something you can tell us about the season finale without spoiling anything?”
Everyone at the table groaned at the question, earning amused laughs from the audience.
“Such a trap question.” Sasha mumbled quietly.
Connie pointed to Annie. “You’re good at vague and flavorless; you take it.”
Annie gave him a look that could pierce glass before leaning towards her mic. “There’s a lot of imagery throughout the season that really connects once it all ties together in the end.”
“There are a lot of artistic choices that all end up coming together so beautifully,” Pieck added, a soft smile painted across her lips. “They’re the kind of choices that make you pause and think back to previous episodes.”
Porco finally spoke up for the first time, “I’m pretty sure it’s kind of broken us all emotionally.”
The moderator nodded fondly, “Alright, I see we’re keeping it cryptic and mysterious. But that’s half the fun, I suppose.” He shuffled through his cards once more. “We’ll do a few more before we open the floor.”
Jean leaned back in his chair, the spotlight just bright enough to make the crowd blur in his vision. He could feel Reiner’s shoulder next to his, close enough to provide comfort but too far to actually mean anything.
The panel continued, but Jean found himself glancing to the side more than he’d like to admit.
The moderator finished up another round of questions, throwing the side of the stage a quick glance as one of the assistants gestured from the wings.
He smiled brightly at the audience. “Looks like we’re ready to open the floor for audience questions. One of our staff members is now in the center aisle with a mic ready for anyone who would like to step up.”
As if on cue, the spotlights turned off and the room lights came on, allowing the cast to actually see the audience.
A wave of electrifying excitement passed through the crowd. The shuffling of fabric cut through the silence as one brave fan—a young girl in a denim jacket covered in Attack on Titan pins—stepped to the mic.
She beamed, unable to contain her excitement. “Hi! First of all, I just wanted to say thank you all so much for what you’ve done with this show and your characters. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever been so invested in fictional characters.”
Eren gave her a smile and a thumbs-up. “We all definitely feel that.”
“We love them too,” Connie chimed in, “which makes it difficult for us to beat each other up so often.”
Laughter rippled through the audience.
The fan nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, so my question: what’s something you guys filmed that didn’t end up making the final cut, but you wish had?”
That one got the whole cast thinking.
“The soup scene.” Reiner stated without missing a beat.
Several of the cast members groaned, having to stifle their laughter.
Sasha buried her face in her hands.
“Oh my god, I forgot about that!” Armin laughed, “He had, like, 20 lines talking to a spoon about beef stew.”
“You all told me it was artistically done.” Bertholdt muttered defensively.
“It was something, alright.” Jean quipped.
With that, the next fan was brought up to the mic, and by that time enough people had gained their confidence to form a line.
The next fan was more nervous. “My question is a little odd, but I was wondering, if your characters had social media accounts, which one would be the worst to follow and why?”
Multiple cast members spoke up without a moment’s hesitation, “Eren.”
Eren whirled around to look down the table at his castmates. “What?! Why mine?”
“The pictures he would post would be so cryptic and creepy with absolutely no context.” Armin argued.
“Probably black-and-white too, with the only caption being something like ‘inevitable’ or ‘wait.’” Connie added.
“I don't even use social media,” Eren protested.
“Yeah, but if your character did, it’d be weird as hell.” Jean stated, almost matter-of-factly.
Reiner raised his hand calmly. “Porco would rage tweet.”
“He wouldn’t rage tweet.” Porco muttered, “He’d vent.”
The moderator laughed, cutting in before it got too out of hand. “Okay, okay, moving on.”
The cast continued to answer fan questions, most being for them all, but a few pointed towards a particular member. More than a couple of times they were asked to recite specific lines in their characters’ voices. A few times the moderator would step in with gentle guidance when the conversation got too animated. Everyone was having a great time, though.
“It seems as if that was our last audience question.” The moderator stated after what felt like forever. “Which means it’s time to move on to our games!”
The audience erupted once more into excited cheers.
“This first game is called ‘Line Swap,’” he started. “We’ll go down the line; each of you will draw a random prompt from the basket, things like ‘romantic scene’ or ‘drama.’ Then, you’ll draw a castmate's name. Improvise a single line from your castmate’s character following the scene in that prompt. Ready? Let’s go!”
Sasha immediately dove for the basket like a kid after cotton candy, completely disregarding the order of things. No one seemed to mind, however. “Okay, okay—I got… ‘final words before a battle’ and Mikasa.”
She cleared her throat, standing up from the table and assuming a dark and mysterious stance, shoulders squared heroically. “Ereh… You better stay alive, you hear me?!”
She took an exaggerated bow before sitting back down.
Mikasa blinked, unamused. The crowd found it hilarious.
Connie decided to go next. “Alright, I got ‘awkward confession’ and… Armin.”
He gave a long pause, then stood up, hunched slightly, a downtrodden expression on his face, speaking in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, “I know statistically you won’t feel the same… But even so, I made you this diagram charting my feelings.”
Armin rolled his eyes, “Unfortunately, I can see the character saying that.”
Jean’s turn. He pulled out a prompt and a name card, carefully unfolding the pieces of paper.
“Oh boy…” He sighed, “I’ve got ‘villain monologue’ and Reiner.”
The room was laughing before he even started.
Jean took on a low, gravelly tone, staring into the crowd dramatically. “You think I wanted this? You think I chose to be the armored? No. I can’t help that I’m so handsome and morally grey.”
Reiner covered his face with one hand, shaking his head in disappointment as Jean sat back down.
Connie snickered beside him.
“Looks like we’re going to have to wrap up early. Last one, Reiner, make it count!” The moderator stated enthusiastically.
Reiner stood, drawing two cards.
He paused, looking almost hesitant. “‘Love confession,’” he started, his voice the quietest it had been all night, “and… Jean.”
Jean stopped laughing.
“Don’t you dare make it weird.” He pleaded hurriedly, just loud enough for Reiner to hear.
Reiner took a breath before putting on his best Jean impression, “I thought it was Mikasa I wanted… But the truth is, I’ve loved you since we met.”
Jean felt a sharp smack across his back as Connie burst into a cackling fit. Even Annie and Porco cracked smiles.
The audience was laughing as if they had never heard anything funnier.
“I’m suing all of you.” Jean muttered.
“For what?” Sasha jeered, “Hurting your feelings?
“On behalf of myself, my character, and every serious moment I’ve ever had, all of you are dead.” He shot Reiner a glare. His blonde companion seemed more than happy with himself. Jean angrily took a drink from his water bottle.
The moderator eventually cleared his throat, quieting the room. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, tonight has been fun, but unfortunately we will have to say goodbye to our beloved cast members.”
The lights dimmed, cuing the cast members to stand from their seats, waving and smiling towards the audience, some of them offering quick bows, some sharing high fives or playful nudges with one another as they made their way off stage.
Jean locked eyes with Reiner, who was now walking beside him, and half a smile was exchanged between the two of them.
Jean was so going to make Reiner pay for his little stunt.
But that could always wait until after he had the chance to get blackout drunk and enjoy the rest of the night at the cast party.