Chapter Text
I mean if love is just a game then how come it's no fun
If love is just a game how come I've never won
I guess maybe it's possible I might be playing it wrong
And that's why every time I roll the dice I always come undone
-Two Atoms in a Molecule//Noah & the Whale
✿✿✿
Marco stared at the canvas in utter frustration. He hadn’t even bothered to pull out a pallet or brushes yet, just staring at the primed and stretched fabric with a pencil hanging loosely from his long fingers. Finally, he simply gave up, throwing the useless pencil at his easel and went to go take a shower before heading down the street to work.
Even the hot water wasn’t blessing him with any inspiration. He hadn’t produced a single gallery-worthy painting in almost a year, and he was beginning to lose hope, which certainly did not assist in his inability to produce anything worth a second glance. Just that morning, he’d received another email from one of his professors expressing disappointment with a link to an article by some snobby art critic who’d written about the scene expecting a lot more out of such a young and promising artist.
Marco dressed himself with half a mind, he yawned as he pulled a dark green t-shirt over his freckled, tan chest and tucked it into the regulation khakis. He peered out of the window at the overcast day and decided it was worth checking the forecast on his phone. No rain was expected, but it would definitely be chilly and he decided to throw a grey cardigan on while he was at it. With fifteen minutes to spare, Marco decided to head down the street and beg some form of breakfast off of Sasha or Connie, and maybe make himself some pity coffee.
Just walking to work was a hassle on mornings like this. He’d already worked himself into a stress headache from reading the articles. Marco either needed to get himself a new email, or stop checking it before he got to work so he’s have free access to alcohol and naps. Either way, he knew the erratic flashes of color would bother him in his already irritated state.
Though it used to be an inspiration for his work, the synesthesia was really just dragging him down. He’d seemingly exhausted all of the people he’d be able to just get to know while they modeled so he could capture the transformation of their colors. And that was exactly what the critics expected from him. Galleries that progress from colorful chaos to a settled hue that dominates the composition.
The day was grey enough without the half asleep masses of unattractive paper bag brown people milling about the sidewalks. He kept his eyes carefully trained on the ground, making sure to watch his step so he didn’t bump into anyone. It would be nice though, if other people could extend the same courtesy. Some burly businessman knocked into Marco, and caught completely off-guard, Marco toppled to the ground and landed square on his ass.
He shook his head to clear it before registering a couple different hands offering him assistance. Pursing his lips, he grabbed onto one of the hands and allowed himself to be pulled up, the man going out of his way to look Marco directly in the eyes to ask if he was okay. A flash of royal purple. “I’m fine, don’t worry, I just have to be on my way.”
Marco took the excuse to avert his gaze, straightened up and glanced around to make sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets. He gave the man who’d helped him an apologetic smile before turning away and continuing down the sidewalk, crossing his arms against the chilly air.
To his surprise, Hanji was actually downstairs organizing pastries in the display case. They smiled at him, “Hey hun, I’m helping out at the register today. I’m all caught up on grueling paperwork and need to remind myself that I really do love the coffeeshop.”
Marco grinned, “So Eren isn’t working today, is he?”
Hanji stuck out their tongue, “You caught me. Go make me some coffee.”
Marco obliged, turning on the coffee maker before tucking his head in the door of the kitchen, zeroing in on Connie, “Wanna help a man out and make him some breakfast?”
“I don’t know, do you deserve it?”
Marco pouted, really milking the puppy eyes, hoping to gain some sympathy. Connie rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
Just as Connie agreed, the coffee maker made a familiar dinging noise. Marco poured a the coffee into a mug and blended in a few syrups and some cream before handing it to Hanji. They studied the cup for a moment, took a sniff and a sip, and a wide smile spread on their face.
“I knew I hired you for a reason. Thank you Marco, if you’re going to make yourself a drink I’d get on it, we open in 7 minutes.”
Two minutes before service began, Marco managed to snarf down some kind of sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich on a bagel that Connie had presented him, and gulped down at least half a cup of coffee in a rush, burning his throat and scalding his tongue.
The difference between Hanji working in Eren’s place was immense, as everything was much more smooth and pleasant. Rather than shouting out orders and verbal abuses, Hanji would tell Marco, and Marco would pass food orders onto Sasha or Connie, depending on who was closer. There was also a significant drop in technical difficulties, since Hanji had more of a tendency to obsessively pick apart the issue to fix it, rather than scream at the register, or hit it.
Around noon, Connie made lunch for everyone, and Hanji had to go upstairs and work on some sort of management thing that Marco didn’t even want to think about. They’d left with a fervent apology and Marco sighed before straightening his back and plastering on a smile to work the register.
In the afternoon, people were less likely to order coffee, so him working both was plausible. Plus, if necessary, Sasha was pretty good with making coffee drinks.
Of course, working the register was no easy task for Marco, he tended to avoid jobs that involved a lot of interaction on account of his synesthesia. Granted, people tended to look very dull to him until he started talking to them. Most people started off as either a muted green or red, depending on their first interaction. As Marco got to know people though, they became brighter and developed their own hue that would vary depending on mood.
He never quite figured out how people developed the hues they did, Hanji was a bright sunshine yellow. Sasha was an autumn orange. Connie was a royal blue. Colors had always guided Marco in his art, though, critics of his galleries always praising the “progressive” feel to his collections that was really just Marco getting to know his model and their color beginning to come through to him, but lately any models he tried to work with weren’t interested in getting to know each other.
A few hours into working the register, one customer seemed put off by Marco. “Aren’t you the coffee boy?” Marco furrowed his eyebrows.
“Yes, but we’re a bit short handed today. What can I get for you?” He asked, only glancing briefly at the man, only taking a shock of light brown hair and a strong jawline before gluing his eyes back to the screen of the register. The man hesitated again for a moment before he recovered.
“Oh! Just a green tea latte. A big one.” Marco nodded, punching in the order.
“Is that all?”
“Mhm,” he responded, and slid a five over to Marco, “Keep the change.” He turned to walk away, but Marco reached just over the counter and tapped his shoulder, “I need a name for your order.”
“Right, sorry, Jean.” Jean nodded a little awkwardly and wandered from the counter to go find a seat while Marco worked his magic. It only took him a few minutes to make the drink, add a design in the foam, and bring it back over. “Jean!” He called, and Jean made his way back over, taking the latte and thanking Marco and going on his merry way.
Marco was left a bit off-kilter from the whole encounter. He could only assume Jean was a regular, and probably expected that Marco would know his order or something, but that was more Eren’s thing, seeing as Marco did his best to avoid customers. The rest of the afternoon, luckily, was pretty slow, and Hanji was back by six when the college students start pouring in to ingest coffee and write last minute papers.
After finishing his shift in a daze, Marco helped Hanji with a little bit of clean up before putting his apron on the hook and stumbled his way back home. It was barely 7:30 but Marco had exhausted himself. He spent about ten minutes staring at his paints before he just muttered, “Aw, fuck it.” and flopped into bed.
✿✿✿
The next morning, Marco didn’t even bother pretending he would have any inspiration after making the mistake of checking his email to find a new set of emails asking what was up and why he wasn’t painting and it was more than a man could deal with before seven a.m. For some reason, the critics had decided to be more vicious that week, deciding that he had used up whatever time limit artists were allotted before a gallery or plan was announced.
In all honesty, Marco just didn’t want to deal with them. He could certainly say he was exploring possibilities or some bullshit like that, but he preferred to stay in his corner of the city and pretend that one day he’d find his inspiration.
All things considered, Marco was not in a good mood. People seemed more careless than usual, Marco got pushed over twice and had a cup of coffee spilled on him, just on the walk down the street. Needless to say, he was glowering by the time he walked into the shop, practically bristling.
Eren seemed to pick up on the mood easily enough, turning around to start some coffee before even greeting Marco, and calling back to Sasha and Connie to procure some breakfast. “Having a bad morning?” he asked, handing Marco an apron.
“Just exhausted, and really done with about everything.” He responded, but Eren’s expression prompted him to pull out his phone. “Look, 13 articles in the past two weeks alone.”
The boy took the phone from Marco’s hand and scrolled through a couple of said articles. “They weren’t messing around were they, huh? Assholes.” He huffed, handing the phone back to Marco. He patted Marco’s head with a soft smile. “If you need a break today, just let me know okay? You covered for me all day, yesterday, I can cover for you today.”
Marco nodded with a wry smile, “I will definitely take you up on that.” The coffee maker dinged, and he gratefully prepared a cup for himself, and sasha brought him a plate of eggs and toast. “Perk up, freckles!” She placed the tip of her index finger on his nose, “If you don’t pour your love and kindness into that coffee, Hanji will not be pleased.” Marco grinned.
“I promise I will cheer up for the coffee.” Sasha gazed into his eyes for a moment, searching before seeming satisfied.
“You’re gonna be okay, you know that? You’ll figure it out. You know to just let any of us know if you need a model, right?” As goofy as she could be, Sasha was incredibly perceptive. She ruffled Marco’s hair before returning to the back to prep for the breakfast rush.
Luckily, between prepping and breakfast rush, Marco was able to distract himself with work. He didn’t need to worry about galleries or annoying critics when there was a latte to make. Around the lull between breakfast and lunch, though, Marco found himself idle, mind repeatedly slipping back to phrases from the articles: burn-out, has-been, disappointment, wasted potential. Finally he just gave in, grabbing a sandwich from the deli case, and a bottle of water.
He tapped Eren on the shoulder and pointed to a booth near the counter. “I’ll be over there if you need me, will you be okay.”
“I’ve got it covered, go chill, I’ll tell you if we need help.” Eren gave Marco a light push to the shoulder to encourage him to take a break.
Marco nodded and slipped out from behind the counter. Sinking into the chair was nice. He twisted the lid off of the bottle of water and took a few gulps. Some days were just worse than others. Most days he was able to convince himself that he’d be fine, and it would all work out. It was just a dry spell, not some permanent sentence for the rest of his life, art was what he did. It was an intrinsic part of his being, he just had to find the right model or something.
Plus, it wasn’t like he hadn’t painted or sketched or anything, he just hadn’t made anything gallery-worthy. Although, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t actually painted in a week. He decided he may as well text Petra, she was always reliable to make him feel a little better when he was in moods like this. “Free tonight? I haven’t drawn a thing in a week.” He sent off with a tap.
Within minutes, Marco completely zoned out, it didn’t even matter how much he’d slept the previous night, he just felt so completely drained. What did snap him back to attention though, was Eren’s voice sounding thoroughly annoyed. He turned his gaze to the counter to observe the scene and spotted the strange customer- Joe? Jeremy? Jean? Definitely Jean. And Jean seemed to be practically growling at Eren.
“Well fuck you, Jaeger!” The guy practically spat, and Marco really was not in the mood. Before he could even get over to ask Jean to break it off, Jean was starting to reach across the counter to grab Eren, and that crossed the line. Marco really wasn’t sure how he made it over so fast, but he stepped directly in front of Jean and grabbed his shirt by the collar.
He had a few inches and a broader frame, and Jean looked a little bit terrified. “I am really not having a good day, and that kind of behaviour is really not acceptable from an adult. Whatever childish game you’re trying to play here is over. I’m going to have to ask you to leave because you cannot treat our staff and my friends that way.” He gritted out through his teeth.
Marco let go of the collar with a surprising amount of gentleness considering the severity of his words. He punctuated the statement with a glare the Eren had spent weeks teaching him to perfect. “I-I’m really sorry. That got out of hand, won’t happen again.” Jean held up his hands a little defensively, and Marco pretended not to see Jean glare and mouth something at Eren.
“You okay there, Marco?” Eren had genuine worry in his face, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go angry like that before.” Marco shrugged.
“Bad mood paired with whatever his deal was. And honestly I figured if I used the scare factor, I wouldn’t have to mess with a fight or anything dumb like that.” He shook his head slightly. “I just don’t even feel like myself.”
Eren smiled sympathetically, “It’s a Tuesday night. Why not just take off? I’ll tell Hanji you weren’t feeling too well, and you go get some rest or do whatever you need to do so you don’t hulk out on us, yeah?” Marco frowned at him, an eyebrow raised.
“First of all, I didn’t hulk out. Second, I’m totally fine to work.” Eren put a hand on his hip.
“You need to take a break. Hanji won’t care, and we have everything covered. Go. I’m serious.” Marco sighed, giving in to Eren’s demands. When he got home, he simply collapsed on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts were scattered, although they kept returning to that customer- Jean, was it?
He was really curious as to what that Jean guy was fighting with Eren about. Sure, Eren could definitely be hot-headed, but it seemed like the two knew each other? In all honesty, it was none of his business, and Marco tried to just let it go as he dozed off.
✿✿✿
Petra arrived around 7. Marco was startled awake by the knocking at his door. He rolled out of bed and answered the door with a sleepy smile, “Hello there, miss Petra.” He greeted her.
She walked past him into the cozy studio, glancing around. “Been frustrated, huh?” She asked with a sympathetic smile, taking notice of all the abandoned canvases and scattered paintbrushes. Marco rubbed the back of his neck, “Just a bit. I can’t come up with a damn gallery, y’know? Like every once and awhile I can make a painting that’s actually worth something, but only on its own. Read any of the news in the local art sections lately?” He asked.
“Why do you think I’m here, huh? You know I teach classes on weeknights and I’d rather go to sleep after, but someone needed a serious pick me up. So what are we doing tonight?” She asked, head tilted to the side sweetly.
“I don’t have the patience for paints right now, how about some charcoal drawings, and we go from there?” Petra smiled knowingly and nodded. She went to shrug her coat off but Marco held up a hand.
“No, no, I want to do one with the coat. I really like it.” He said softly, and Petra nodded.
“I got it last week, thought you might like it.” Marco grinned at her and set up his easel with some nice paper and a tray with his charcoals. He moved around, messing with the lighting until he was happy.
“You mind if we go straight into long poses?” He asked and Petra shook her head.
“So we’re figure-drawing tonight?” Marco nodded.
“For now, at least.” Petra nodded in understanding, shifted until she found a pose with her head tilted down and to the side, arms out just slightly.
“Is this good for ten minutes?” She asked him, and Marco affirmed. He set the timer and started sketching.
And they continued like that for almost two hours, Petra shifting poses, maybe shedding a layer of clothing, putting on a hat, donning one of Marco’s button-ups. Marco was covered in charcoal smudges and had a pile of used paper beside him, neatly stacked to be filed away for further contemplation at a later time.
“I swear, I never get tired of drawing you. How do you do it?” He asked, and her yellow-green aura had never been his favorite color or anything, though it did compliment her orange tinted hair nicely. Usually he could only repeatedly draw people with beautiful colors, but she was probably is longest model.
Petra stepped towards him, “Feeling better?” She asked, genuine hope in her eyes. He nodded.
“Are you staying?” He asked. She seemed to contemplate for a moment before speaking carefully.
“Tomorrow, I’m asking this guy out. He’s sweet, works with me. He’s actually kind of the reason I broke it off with Levi a month ago.” She admitted kind of sheepishly. “Helped me realize I cared about Levi a lot more than he cared about me, so I broke it off. Then at some point I guess I realized Auruo was into me, and we’re close already. And I guess I like him. I don’t really know.” She told Marco.
“So you aren’t staying?” He questioned, amusement lilting his voice. It was always hard to work around Petra’s love life.
“I never understood why we never dated.” She sighed, “It couldn’t hurt, I suppose. Especially because I’ll probably be tied down to Auruo for months, if not longer. He isn’t gonna let me go easily.” A sweet smile adorned her face. “I think I like that about him. You should really find someone like that, Marco.”
He shrugged, “Me? Crazy guy with the colors? Nah,” Marco laughed softly, when Petra pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.
“You deserve it, y’know. You’re gonna find someone who has the prettiest color, and they’re gonna love living in some mess of a house with you, and they’ll go to all your galleries.” She was following him through the little apartment as she spoke. Marco groaned at her, flopping down on the bed and pulling her with him.
“If I ever make a gallery again.”
Petra rolled her eyes, “Don’t say that! You know it isn’t true. I’m gonna kick your butt if you don’t stop reading your articles. They just make you all depressed, and needy,” she commented. Marco huffed before moving to prop himself above her.
“Are you going to tell that new guy about me, or disappear until you two break up?” He asked, laying a couple kisses on her neck.
“Mm, I’ll tell him. Especially because you actually need me around. But no more of this, okay? And he might come with. Maybe you can try to draw him too?”
“Don’t make me. I don’t know. Maybe? Bring him around sometime, I’ll see then,” He commented.
Petra pulled him into a deep kiss before they fumbled into bed. She was gone when Marco woke up.