Chapter Text
Given his mountain of insecurities, Eren should resent having such talented friends. But he’s too busy being impressed to be burdened by jealousy.
Jay’s new Instagram post has him speechless. They always do, to be fair. Jay’s modest about his baking, which Eren finds quite endearing. If he had even an ounce of Jay’s skills, he’d open his own bakery and never shut up about it.
But Jay has outdone himself this time. His new creation is a plate of twelve pistachio muffins. They’re a beautiful shade of mint green topped with a thin layer of vanilla pudding mix. And, of course, a careful sprinkling of pistachio nuts to finish it off.
They look exquisite, like something a world class baker would whip up instead of a high school junior. If Eren’s jealous of anything, it’s that he’ll never taste anything in real life as delicious as the baked goods Jay shares on his page.
Eren didn’t even know Jay liked pistachios. There’s still so much Eren needs to learn about him. Wants to learn about him.
He switches to Discord and drafts a message.
Ren 🐢🧁
THOSE MUFFINS LOOK AMAZING OMG
I’M OBSESSED
Jay 🥀
Really? You’re not just saying that?
Eren grins at his phone. Always so modest.
Ren 🐢🧁
YES IDIOT
My stomach is literally growling holy shit 😩
Jay 🥀
Well thank you 😭 I worked really hard on them
If I could I’d mail one to you
Ren 🐢🧁
I know ♥️
He swallows hard, second-guessing the heart. Eren’s still trying to navigate how befriending a straight boy is supposed to go. Jay knows Eren is gay, and he hasn’t treated Eren any differently after finding out. But Eren still worries sometimes that he’ll take things too far and scare him off.
He can’t lose Jay. Their friendship is his escape. His peace. Jay is the perfect distraction for everything wrong that goes on in Eren’s life.
So much of a distraction that he accidentally walks right into someone while staring at his phone. Eren looks up to apologize, but the words fall flat on his tongue when his eyes lock with an intense shade of hazel.
Jean Kirstein sneers at him. “Watch where you’re going, dickhead." He shoves Eren again for good measure before retreating into their classroom.
Eren keeps his chin up, but it’s a struggle. High school was hard enough before Jean entered the picture, transferring from god knows where. And while Jean doesn’t antagonize Eren as much as other students do, he’s still an insufferable shit that’s too in love with himself to realize how mediocre he actually is.
Eren follows Jean into Mr. Ackerman’s math class. He sinks into the front seat and angrily types away at his phone.
Ren 🐢🧁
I hate school so much
People are such assholes
Jay 🥀
I KNOW
Some fucker just walked into me and didn’t even apologize
Ren 🐢🧁
WTF
The rage surging through Eren is likely palpable for anyone sitting near him. This is the one downside of having online friends. Their friendship only exists on Eren’s phone. In the real world, Jay is off fending for himself and Eren can’t do anything to help. Jay’s going through enough without some jerk at his school making things difficult for him.
Ren 🐢🧁
Let me into that school so I can kick his ass
Jay 🥀
Do you even know how to fight
Ren 🐢🧁
It’s the thought that counts
Jay 🥀
LOL nah it’s okay. He’s a loser anyway
Ren 🐢🧁
All people are losers according to you 😂
Jay 🥀
Not you 😋
That fluttering sensation tickles Eren’s chest again. He used to suppress it, mainly when he and Jay first started talking, but now he embraces it. Especially knowing there’s a chance that one day, Jay will stop responding to his texts. The thought terrifies him, but it’s not uncommon for online friends to fall out of touch.
So until that day comes, Eren wants to cherish this friendship to the fullest. There are few things that excite him these days. He owes it to himself to let Jay be one of them.
Besides, it’s not like Jay has to find out. The one upside to having online friends is that they’ll never know that you’re blushing unless you tell them.
Ren 🐢🧁
☺️
Jay starts typing a response. Eren’s smile cuts into his cheeks.
“I’m sure whatever has you smiling is quite fascinating, Mr. Jaeger.”
Eren’s eyes go wide as he peers up at Mr. Ackerman. Blood rushes to his face, intensifying even more when he hears snickering from the kids behind him. Jean’s laugh is particularly distinct. Asshole.
“But not in my classroom,” Mr. Ackerman finishes, gesturing to Eren’s phone.
Eren straightens in his seat. “So you admit you want us to be miserable.”
He normally wouldn’t joke around with a teacher, but Mr. Ackerman is one of his favorites. He’s the perfect balance of firm but fair. And he always encourages Eren to try harder, both with school and with extracurriculars.
Mr. Ackerman offers a curt nod. “My salary depends on it.”
Eren slides his phone into his pocket, Jay’s message going unread. He doesn’t want to cut their conversation short. If it were up to him, they’d talk all day. Anything less is a disappointment.
But such is the sad story of Eren Jaeger’s life. Everything is a disappointment.
*
Eren watches from backstage with awe.
Light casts over Armin like a shadow. A warm glare reflects in his square frames. His blond hair morphs into an illuminating gold. He holds his own, commanding the stage like a seasoned Broadway star. It’s mesmerizing how easily he slips into character. He’ll be even more convincing on opening night once he’s in costume and makeup.
Ponyboy Curtis isn’t a complete 180 from Armin’s everyday persona, but taking on the lead role in the spring play requires a level of confidence Armin doesn’t usually possess. But on stage, he’s a natural.
“The doctor gave it to us straight all right,” Armin monologues to the imaginary crowd. Even his accent is perfect. “I tried thinking maybe…maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I’ll wake up at home and everything will be okay. But it was just getting harder and harder to keep lying to myself.”
Thomas Wagner, the actor cast as Two-Bit Mathews, enters the stage next and engages with Armin. Eren’s transfixed by their performances. They make it look so effortless. Their movements, their expressions. Some people are just born to be on stage.
He wonders what that’s like.
“You should’ve auditioned,” Mikasa mutters from behind him.
Eren doesn’t look back at her. They’ve had this discussion more times than he can count.
“I’m not good enough,” he says.
“How do you know if you never tried?”
That’s not true. Eren tries. He tries every day. He memorized the entire script for The Outsiders in a single Saturday. It wouldn’t have mattered which part he got cast for. He just wanted to be part of it somehow. He wasted his first two years of high school working as a stage crew member when what he really wanted was to be on stage. He refused to let another year go by.
He rehearsed lines in his room over and over until he could recite them in his sleep. He doubts anyone at this school practiced harder for those auditions than he did.
But when auditions rolled around, Eren never went. He talked himself out of it. It was foolish to assume he was cut out for the big stage. Knowing the lines means nothing if he’s too nervous to speak them out loud.
“Sorry,” Mikasa says, breaking him from his thoughts. “It’s just kinda depressing seeing you like this.”
Eren sucks in his lip. “I know.”
He can’t help but wonder. Everyone cast in this play is talented, but still. What if he had auditioned? Maybe he could’ve landed a small part. He wouldn’t have gotten the big applause at curtain call like Armin certainly will, but it’s not about the validation. Eren’s dreamed of being in plays since Armin’s family took them to see Into the Woods when they were kids. Even if he can’t make a career out of it, he’d love to know how it feels to be on stage. Just once, that’s all he needs.
But because of his self-doubt, that dream will have to wait.
Finally, he turns to Mikasa. He hates the pity in her gaze, the frown tugging at her painted lips. His friend has too much compassion for her own good. Eren appreciates it, he really does, but not right now.
“I’ll audition for the next one. Okay?”
“You said that last time,” Mikasa counters.
“And this time I mean it.”
“Hello?” Mr. Smith, the drama instructor, calls from the seats. “Lights? Where are my lights?”
Mikasa’s face goes pale. “Shit. Eren.”
Eren jolts around. “Sorry,” he squeaks out, then fiddles with the lights panel.
The stage goes dark, signaling for the crew to move the props around. When everything is in place, Eren hits his mark to turn the lights back on. If he’s not brave enough to work on stage, he can at least be competent enough to work behind it.
*
Eren gets home late. Mostly due to how much he has to clean up after rehearsal. But he takes his time walking through the quiet streets of Shiganshina. He does every Thursday. The more time he spends out of the house on Thursdays, the better.
Though he’s lived here his whole life, Eren’s attachment to this house is miniscule. There are a few childhood memories woven into the four-bedroom, three-bathroom landscape that probably felt special when he experienced them in real time. But now, at sixteen, Eren can glance up at the colonial home at the corner of Garrison and Marley and feel absolutely nothing. His thoughts are blank, as white as the brick contrasting against the black shutters.
He doesn’t announce his presence when he steps inside. There’s no point.
He’s always hated how cold the marble floor feels beneath his feet even when he has socks on. He hates how every sound travels through the expansive main floor, from locking the door to setting down his backpack. Hates that a single light in the kitchen is left on for him. Like Eren needs the reminder that he’s not the only one who lives here.
Though on nights like these, it sure feels like he is.
He does what he normally does. He heats up some frozen waffles, eats alone at the kitchen island, and suffocates in the silence. Even the ghosts that haunt this cursed house steer clear of him. They simply meld into the walls, taking Eren’s last bit of sanity with them.
When he’s done eating, he retreats to his bedroom upstairs. The only room here with a semblance of personality, and that’s mostly because it’s the only room that isn’t painted white. He’s surrounded by burnt orange, a color he’s not particularly fond of. But his mom picked it out when she was pregnant with him, so it never felt right to paint over it.
Eren has homework, but he can’t be bothered with that right now. He’ll wake up early and get it all done during study hall if he has to. For now, he just wants to crawl into bed and hide from a world that’s never been kind to him.
He relaxes under his warm blanket. With a cozy pillow tucked beneath his head, his stresses don’t feel as heavy. They diminish even more when his phone chimes.
Eren knows who it is. It has him smiling before he even reads the message.
Jay 🥀
Are you home yet?
Jay knows about Thursday nights, how Eren's dad works late at the hospital those nights so Eren spends his evenings alone. Under different circumstances, it wouldn’t be so bad. But Eren’s relationship with his father has always been complicated. Thursday nights just highlight those complications more than usual.
Ren 🐢🧁
Yup, just got in bed
Jay 🥀
All good?
Ren 🐢🧁
Not really
Jay 🥀
I’m sorry
I wish I could be there
How badly Eren wishes the same. He’d love to know Jay, really know him. Hang out together and watch movies and stuff. Maybe Eren can introduce him to some of his favorite theater shows. And Jay can teach Eren how to bake, assuming Eren doesn’t burn down the kitchen.
A proper friendship. One that exists in the real world as much as it does through text message.
But it’s silly to cling to a wish that won’t come true. He and Jay will never reach that point. Eren doesn’t even know where Jay lives. Hell, he doesn’t even know what Jay looks like.
Ren 🐢🧁
Don’t say sorry
Just talking to you is enough
He doesn’t mean to come across as desperate, but he can’t help himself. Jay brings out a side of Eren that’s foreign even to himself.
Jay 🥀
I hope so
Ren 🐢🧁
I do wish I had one of your desserts though lol
Jay starts typing, then deletes the message. Types again, same thing. A full two minutes pass before Eren’s phone pings again.
Jay 🥀
One day I promise I’ll make something for you
Eren reads it at least five times. He can’t tell if Jay is just being polite or if he’s being serious.
Because if he’s being serious…
Ren 🐢🧁
Really?
Jay 🥀
Of course dumbass
Whatever you want
Ren 🐢🧁
Then I want a red velvet cupcake
Jay 🥀
Predictable
But sure, you got it ❤️
Eren’s jaw nearly hits his chest. He takes a deep breath before he forgets how. One emoji, one simple emoji, and it has him grinning at his phone like an idiot.
No, he’s not going to overthink this. Jay is straight, he told Eren as much. Plus there’s the whole ex-girlfriend-that-he’s-not-really-over situation. Interpreting that heart as anything other than a friendly gesture is going to bite Eren in the ass. He’s better off pretending that Jay never typed that in the first place.
But he did type a heart. And Eren saw it. And now his own heart won’t stop racing.
Screw it, it’s Thursday. Eren’s tired and he’s annoyed and he’s insecure and he’s all alone. The least he can allow himself is some delusion.
A boyish grin spreads across his face without permission.
He’ll pretend it means something. He’ll pretend that Jay is blushing and beaming at his phone the same way Eren is right now.
Just for tonight.