Eren's POV

My phone rang, the loud chime echoing through my small apartment. I was in my bedroom and my phone was in my kitchen, but apparently the normally soundproof walls were thin enough to allow me to hear it ringing from the other side of the small space. I groaned and rolled out of bed, walking into the kitchen and grabbing my phone from the counter, looking at who was calling before answering it and placing the speaker to my ear before realizing that I had, in fact, not placed the speaker to my ear, but the microphone. I turned it around to the correct orientation, only to hear Armin's voice already speaking too quickly for me to understand in my tired state.

"Armin, hold… wait. Hold on."

"And it's- huh? Oh, sorry. What is it, Eren?"

"You're… you're talking too fast. Start over, maybe?"

"Eren, are you okay?"

I rubbed one of my eyes with the back of my hand. "Yeah, m'jus tired."

I could almost hear the expression of concern that he no doubt wore on his face. "Eren, what were you doing before I called you?"

"Nothin'." That couldn't be more true. I had literally been laying in bed staring at the ceiling, too tired to do anything else but also unable to fall asleep.

"Well, good, I guess, because I called you so that you can do something for once."

"Oh, shut up Armin, I do stuff."

"No you don't."

"I-" He was right. "Ugh, fine, what do you want me to do?"

"Okay, great! So, there's this bar-"

I cut him off. "Armin, no. I'm not going to go to a bar."

"Eren, you said you would listen."

"Ugh, fine. What is it?"

"Okay, so there's this bar, and they're having an open mic night this Friday. Mikasa and I, and pretty much all of our other friends too, think that you should play something."

I would be lying if I said that the sound of that didn't interest me. "I can play anything I want?"

"Yeah!" Armin's voice sounded more sure now, as if he knew that I was going to accept. Hell, he probably did know that I was going to accept. "Will you do it?"

"Sure, I guess. What time, and where is it?"

I could hear him smiling. "Open mic starts at six, but after it starts it goes all night, so you can decide when you come. It's at Trost Bar, on the south side of Shiganshina. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

"Great! I'll see you later, then!"

"Yeah, okay. Bye Armin."

"Bye!"

I set my phone back down on the counter and walked into the small section of my apartment that could be called the living room, looking at all of the instruments that I owned and trying to decide what I wanted to play.

I walked into Trost Bar at around 10:30 that Friday night, carrying a small instrument case. Spotting my friends all sitting in a group, I walked over to them and took a seat.

Armin was the first to speak to me. "Eren, you came!"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I am. I said I would be, didn't I?"

"What are you going to play?" Sasha questioned me, and I saw her and a couple others eyeing my case.

"A song."

Mikasa huffed. "No shit, Sherlock. What song?"

"You'll find out."

"What is that?" Connie asked the question that everyone at the table wanted to know the answer to, pointing to the case that I'd set on the seat next to me.

"A ukulele." I picked the case up and set it on the table, opening it and pulling out said instrument.

"A ukulele? That's like, the least manly instrument ever." Apparently it was impossible in any situation for Jean to not make some kind of asshole comment.

"Actually, no. That's the flute. Which, by the way, I also play, so shut the hell up. I bet you couldn't even play the recorder."

Around the table I heard a few "oohs" and some laughter after my rebuttal, but I didn't say any more as I stood up with my ukulele, heading away from the table and towards the empty microphone, and I heard Marco wish me good luck as I went.

The bar wasn't packed, but it certainly wasn't empty either, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bit nervous to be playing in front of all of these people. As I walked on stage, I caught sight of another bunch of people who apparently had come in a group, and one of them had his cold grey gaze set directly on me. The first thing I noticed about him was his dark hair. The second was how indifferent he seemed to everything around him. The expression on his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever, and he was leaning back against the bar with his arms crossed. For some reason, the sight of him calmed me, and I felt more confident as I took my place in front of the mic and strummed a couple of chords to warm up.

The song I was going to play wasn't originally written for the ukulele, but I liked to play it on one anyway. The ukulele had always been one of my favorite instruments. The song was short, and that was one reason I'd chosen it. I kept my eyes on the silver ones of the stranger who'd been watching me as I played the first chord and began to sing.

"I could go off the deep end, I could kill all my best friends,"
I could've sworn that the eyes of my dark-haired stranger widened the tiniest bit in surprise. Was it because of the lyrics, or did he know the song? I kept singing.

"I could follow those stylish trends, God knows I could make amends. But I've got an angry heart, filled with cancers and poppy tarts." I saw him mouth the next line along with me. So, he did know the song.

"If this is how you folks make art, it's fucking depressing."

He didn't stop mouthing the words with me, and I briefly wondered if he was actually singing. "And it's sad to know, that we are not alone. And it's sad to know there's no honest way out."

I began the next verse, frowning slightly as I fully realized how much it related to me. "I'm afraid to leave the house. I'm as timid as a mouse. I'm afraid if I go out, I'll out wear my welcome." My stranger also frowned, and I didn't know if it was because he also related or because I was frowning. I also briefly wondered when I began referring to him as "my stranger", brushing away the thought as the song continued.

"I am not a courageous man. I don't have any big lasting plans. I'm too cowardly to take a stand, I wanna keep my nose clean." As I sang the final part, he pushed himself off of the bar and walked towards me, standing close to the front of the small stage I was standing on. I could hear him. He actually was singing.

"And it's sad to know that we are not alone, and it's sad to know there's no honest way out." His voice was beautiful, in a perfect, sad way.

"In this life we lead we can conquer anything, if we can just get the braves to get out of bed in the morning." I finished strumming the final chord and stepped off of the stage, going back to the table where my friends were, grabbing my case, and walking away before any of them could say anything to me. I went back towards the stage, only to see that my stranger was nowhere to be seen. I looked around the small bar for a moment before spotting him. He was standing in front of the door with a coat draped over his right shoulder. He beckoned for me to follow him, and then walked out of the door into the darkness outside.

A/N

Hiya.

I hope you enjoy how this turns out. The song I used is Brave As A Noun by Andrew Jackson Jihad.

This story will probably end up being anywhere from 4-6 chapters, however it turns out.

Thanks for reading!