Categories > Anime/Manga > Attack on Titan
Eren had never been one for stage fright. After his first ever performance where he had discovered that, really, the stage wasn't all that frightening, he found himself falling in love with the art of performing.
More specifically, Eren had fallen in love with the art of the orchestra.
The smooth, polished wood, the way the strings dug into the pads of his fingers, the dragging of horsehair across metal to create noise. Not just noise, but music. Beautiful music. Music pulled together, note by note, each one made precise and perfect by millimeter adjustments on the finger board.
The music itself was like a foreign language; you had to decipher little black circles, dots, numbers, and lines to read it, had to coordinate that with fingers and horsehair on strings to speak it. To understand it, however, was a feat in and of itself. To hear the language, to translate the music into emotions, into words, into a mental image, a feeling.
This true understanding of music was what Eren strived to teach. What he yearned to spread through his performances. What he felt every person alive deserved to experience - especially those that lacked an interest in understanding. Eren's goal in life was to show to others the beauty of music, one crowd at a time.
The conductor lifted her hands, and the members of the orchestra raised their instruments in unison. She flicked her baton a few times, and Eren could hear the soft tapping of feet in unison, including his own. The cellos started across the stage from him, and then the second violins two seats to his left, accompanied by the violas in the next section over. Eren raised his bow, inhaled deeply, and touched his bow to the strings.
A gentle, stable pianissimo, and Eren barely refrained from breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of trembling from the violinists behind him. A small crescendo through the half note, only to revert back to piano. Crescendo, piano, crescendo, piano, a few more times until the crescendo rose into a mezzo forte. The melody was the same, but the pitches transposed higher, and the brunet let his wrist twist back and forth a few times for a sweet vibrato.
Then came a problem area. He slid his fingers up closer to his face on the fingerboard. Fifth position. He waited for his cue, his index finger trembling, his bow moving ever so slightly, inaudible to anyone but him, to reassure him he would be in tune. He came in strong, and, thankfully, so did the divided section behind him. The slide from fifth to third they had struggled with in practice was absent in performance, even as the shifting positions continued.
The intensity of the music vanished quickly, and the entire orchestra ended on a long note. Anxiety tried to settle in the concertmaster's stomach, but his solo was over before he had the chance to let the fear cause any fumbles. The gentle vibrato at the end soothed him, and he glanced up at the conductor. The chord faded into silence as each member of the orchestra lifted their bows off the strings in unison, then, on another cue, let their instruments rest on their laps.
The end of the last concert before winter started always brought a sense of relief and freedom, and this was no exception.
They each stood on cue, and Eren searched the audience for familiar faces. Sometimes, Armin came, and when he did, he always sat front and center. Sure enough, there he was, face lit up, clapping enthusiastically. They made eye contact, and Eren couldn't fight his smile when his blond best friend mouthed good job! It seemed Armin had brought a friend though, and the brunet's eyes slid over to the visitor, curious as to who he had managed to drag along to a classical concert.
His heart nearly stopped. He couldn't really process the realization, nor the emotions that swarmed him. Eren forced his attention back to his conductor just as she acknowledged his solo, and he gave a short bow to the audience as tears threatened to fall. Hurriedly, he grabbed his music from the stand, and led the orchestra off stage and back to the band room.
"Eren! That was incredible!"
The brunet's fingers trembled as he fumbled with the zippers on his case. He refused to look up as he carefully strapped his violin inside and covered it, laughing nervously.
"I don't know," he responded shakily, nestling his bow inside as well and latching it down. "We could have played on dynamics a little more."
"Well, I didn't notice," Armin said, a sort of finality in his tone. "I thought it was beautiful."
With his case zipped closed and his shoulder rest safely in its pouch, Eren had no excuse to avoid the people hovering over him anymore. He pushed his case into his little cubby and locked it before turning to face them, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
Of course, he'd never been good at withholding emotions from Levi.
His boyfriend opened his arms in offering. Eren didn't hesitate to throw himself into the shorter man's embrace, clinging tightly to his shoulders and choking back a sob. Levi rubbed the brunet's back reassuringly and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck before leaning up to whisper in his ear.
"Miss me?"
Eren leaned back so he could cup the pale face in his hands, teal eyes flicking back and forth between gray ones. "Of course I missed you!" He couldn't fight the smile, and he rubbed the tears from his cheeks. "I-I thought - I thought you wouldn't be here until tomorrow!"
"Thank Armin for that." There was a pause, and Levi seemed to be fighting for words. He laced his fingers between Eren's, looking away for a moment before glancing back. "I know that . . . well, I've never been particularly interested in classical music."
Eren's heart sank. That had been his fear. The reason he didn't mention his concert to Levi, and certainly didn't invite him.
"But . . . "
Eren perked slightly. Levi was hesitant, that much was obvious, and he seemed a little embarrassed. The brunet's curiosity piqued. But?
"I thought it sounded gorgeous."
They were the most beautiful words he'd ever heard Levi say.
"I . . . yeah. Thank you."
They were both bad with words, but the kiss they shared said plenty.
More specifically, Eren had fallen in love with the art of the orchestra.
The smooth, polished wood, the way the strings dug into the pads of his fingers, the dragging of horsehair across metal to create noise. Not just noise, but music. Beautiful music. Music pulled together, note by note, each one made precise and perfect by millimeter adjustments on the finger board.
The music itself was like a foreign language; you had to decipher little black circles, dots, numbers, and lines to read it, had to coordinate that with fingers and horsehair on strings to speak it. To understand it, however, was a feat in and of itself. To hear the language, to translate the music into emotions, into words, into a mental image, a feeling.
This true understanding of music was what Eren strived to teach. What he yearned to spread through his performances. What he felt every person alive deserved to experience - especially those that lacked an interest in understanding. Eren's goal in life was to show to others the beauty of music, one crowd at a time.
The conductor lifted her hands, and the members of the orchestra raised their instruments in unison. She flicked her baton a few times, and Eren could hear the soft tapping of feet in unison, including his own. The cellos started across the stage from him, and then the second violins two seats to his left, accompanied by the violas in the next section over. Eren raised his bow, inhaled deeply, and touched his bow to the strings.
A gentle, stable pianissimo, and Eren barely refrained from breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of trembling from the violinists behind him. A small crescendo through the half note, only to revert back to piano. Crescendo, piano, crescendo, piano, a few more times until the crescendo rose into a mezzo forte. The melody was the same, but the pitches transposed higher, and the brunet let his wrist twist back and forth a few times for a sweet vibrato.
Then came a problem area. He slid his fingers up closer to his face on the fingerboard. Fifth position. He waited for his cue, his index finger trembling, his bow moving ever so slightly, inaudible to anyone but him, to reassure him he would be in tune. He came in strong, and, thankfully, so did the divided section behind him. The slide from fifth to third they had struggled with in practice was absent in performance, even as the shifting positions continued.
The intensity of the music vanished quickly, and the entire orchestra ended on a long note. Anxiety tried to settle in the concertmaster's stomach, but his solo was over before he had the chance to let the fear cause any fumbles. The gentle vibrato at the end soothed him, and he glanced up at the conductor. The chord faded into silence as each member of the orchestra lifted their bows off the strings in unison, then, on another cue, let their instruments rest on their laps.
The end of the last concert before winter started always brought a sense of relief and freedom, and this was no exception.
They each stood on cue, and Eren searched the audience for familiar faces. Sometimes, Armin came, and when he did, he always sat front and center. Sure enough, there he was, face lit up, clapping enthusiastically. They made eye contact, and Eren couldn't fight his smile when his blond best friend mouthed good job! It seemed Armin had brought a friend though, and the brunet's eyes slid over to the visitor, curious as to who he had managed to drag along to a classical concert.
His heart nearly stopped. He couldn't really process the realization, nor the emotions that swarmed him. Eren forced his attention back to his conductor just as she acknowledged his solo, and he gave a short bow to the audience as tears threatened to fall. Hurriedly, he grabbed his music from the stand, and led the orchestra off stage and back to the band room.
"Eren! That was incredible!"
The brunet's fingers trembled as he fumbled with the zippers on his case. He refused to look up as he carefully strapped his violin inside and covered it, laughing nervously.
"I don't know," he responded shakily, nestling his bow inside as well and latching it down. "We could have played on dynamics a little more."
"Well, I didn't notice," Armin said, a sort of finality in his tone. "I thought it was beautiful."
With his case zipped closed and his shoulder rest safely in its pouch, Eren had no excuse to avoid the people hovering over him anymore. He pushed his case into his little cubby and locked it before turning to face them, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
Of course, he'd never been good at withholding emotions from Levi.
His boyfriend opened his arms in offering. Eren didn't hesitate to throw himself into the shorter man's embrace, clinging tightly to his shoulders and choking back a sob. Levi rubbed the brunet's back reassuringly and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck before leaning up to whisper in his ear.
"Miss me?"
Eren leaned back so he could cup the pale face in his hands, teal eyes flicking back and forth between gray ones. "Of course I missed you!" He couldn't fight the smile, and he rubbed the tears from his cheeks. "I-I thought - I thought you wouldn't be here until tomorrow!"
"Thank Armin for that." There was a pause, and Levi seemed to be fighting for words. He laced his fingers between Eren's, looking away for a moment before glancing back. "I know that . . . well, I've never been particularly interested in classical music."
Eren's heart sank. That had been his fear. The reason he didn't mention his concert to Levi, and certainly didn't invite him.
"But . . . "
Eren perked slightly. Levi was hesitant, that much was obvious, and he seemed a little embarrassed. The brunet's curiosity piqued. But?
"I thought it sounded gorgeous."
They were the most beautiful words he'd ever heard Levi say.
"I . . . yeah. Thank you."
They were both bad with words, but the kiss they shared said plenty.
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