The Journalist

by odjeseus

When a famous violinist named Levi Ackerman is playing in town, young journalist Eren Jaeger is sent to review his performance. While Eren is captivated by the violinist and the violinist likewise captivated, Eren delves into his past that his encounters with the violinist brings back to light. So, there will be smut later on. Just a warning. ;)

2. Chapter 2

Ayyyyy here we go, chapter 2. FYI I'm totally making this up as i go along. I have a basic plot line in mind, but i'm really just gonna see how it goes. Enjoy ^o^

Eren sighed as he unlocked the door to the apartment that he and Armin shared. He dropped his bags on the floor and collapsed on the sofa, letting his arms fall and cover his face, letting out a breath with a huff. Hanji just couldn't give him a break. And he didn't want to see some stupid violinist anyway. The guy was probably in his late 70's with muttonchops and a mustache, shuffling onstage with a tailcoat older than Eren was. No thank you. He has enough to do, what with college alongside work.

Eren worked as a journalist in Hanji's office, who runs a local paper. He is very linguistically talented, and alongside Armin they make a wonderful team. Something that Hanji has not failed to notice and use, and the two teenagers probably work more than all the other paid workers in her office combined. But, Eren really enjoys it and it gives him a distraction from school. His parents were pushing him to apply for Julliard and become a professional pianist. Eren could have passed the entrance exam with flying colors, but his parents forced it down his throat so much that it became a torture for Eren quickly. He loves to play; music is something that resonates very deeply with him. But the endless shows and concerts and recordings… The practices until his fingers bled, the classes, lessons every day, not to mention teachers that were absolutely brutal and cruel. People looking at him like he was some animal to be ogled. It took the beauty out of it for Eren quickly. He soon began to hate lessons, and hate practicing, but he could never hate the piano.

Now that he's on his own, he thought as he casted a glance towards the small upright piano in the corner of the room, it's all his. The music that he adores so much will no longer be beaten and abused into him by cruel instructors and parents who only care about the trophy that comes with getting a child into Julliard.

The only real time he gets to play is when he's home alone. He's far too shy to play in front of people anymore. Music is something that's very deep and personal to him, and he's afraid that he can be read like an open book when he's playing. Every little thought and emotion that he's feeling can be read on his face.

He glanced at his watch; Armin won't be home for another 45 minutes. Perfect.