a/n: ahhh, thank you for all of the support! it really means a lot to me. c:

just a head's up: this chapter is the last pre-television show chapter, so after this, we'll be starting on the first episode of the show. you'll be meeting the twelve kiddos here though, so do tell me what you think of them! as a general warning, they may seem a bit ooc at first, but that's something i'll address more at the end of the chapter.

have fun reading!

(edited 05/07/2017 for some grammatical issues)

-—production: promotions, introductions, and fan talk—-
"They look like a bunch of fucking wimps. Except that one chick. I guess."

Levi didn't think his life could escalate any quicker, but somehow, his friends manage to prove otherwise.

The incessant ringing of his phone is like hearing gunshots in a sanctuary and, groaning, he can do nothing else but investigate the interruption.

He picks up the device with a muffled grunt.

"Levi!" comes the panicked shriek, "You have to get over here, quick. The television network just sprung a huge opportunity and we can't waste it! Hurry!"

It's so early in the morning that Levi isn't even able to register who exactly it was that had been yelling at him over the phone.

He's already up though, so there's nothing he can do but mutter a string of angry curses and get up out of bed. He's about to open the door to his connecting bathroom when his phone buzzes once more—this time, with a text.

Now is not the time for cleanliness.

Levi doesn't bother hiding his angry curses now and stomps into his shower anyway, not caring too much when he hears yet another tone sound out from his bedside table.

lol, jk, u nasty wen u dirty

"What is it, Hange."

It's not a question; it's a demand.

The individual before Levi turns around nonchalantly, clearly not all too frightened by their friend's tone. "The station sent out an e-mail stating that they were willing to give us a full episode slot just for promotions that they would later chop up into smaller fragments to air as commercials—but only if we can have something filmed, edited, and sent to them by the end of the day."

"The fuck."

"Yeah, Erwin's kind of freaking out in his office right now."

The two stare at one another.

Levi groans again, realizing that he wasn't actually called to be a part of the last-minute planning crew (which would have been bad enough), but is instead, the one-man Erwin Smith pep team (which is a whole lot worse). There's no talking himself out of this though. Whenever he catches himself into an argument with Hange, it feels like they're both running around in circles and he honestly doesn't need even more stress this morning.

Seeing that he's come to see it their way, Hange shoots him a wide grin, forces a cup of coffee that isn't black into his hands, and shoos him along his way.

"Oh, Levi, since you're host, I'll make sure to have Petra hand you your script sometime later today. Don't forget to practice before we start recording!"

The man debates whether or not he should douse himself in the dark liquid within his hands but quickly rationalizes that he's just showered and decides that he'll just tough it up.

He's a brave man.

It takes three hours of repeating "Yes, Erwin. It'll be fine, Erwin" for said man to finally believe him and join in the last-minute arrangement fest.

Hange's been on the phone non-stop while their assistant, Moblit, frantically runs errand; Mike and Nanaba are instructing a series of staff members on how to pick up each contestant from their respective hotel and transport them here without running into one another; Oluo is cursing at his subordinates for not arranging the set properly; Gunther is running back and forth with various electronic equipment and passing them onto Eld, who seems to be directing the tech crew, and when Petra hands him a stapled stack of papers with an apologetic grin Levi wants to die.

Part of him is glad that he missed a majority of the fuss, but now he's probably going to look like an idiot over and over again in front of all these people because he didn't get enough time to memorize a stupid script that he doesn't even care about.

Great.

Looking up in time to see his boss's annoyed expression, Eld winks. "The teleprompter should be set up in about ten minutes."

Levi thanks the heavens that Erwin decided to hire him a personal assistant.

The arrivals of each of the twelve contestants are scheduled thirty minutes apart so that they each can be carted into a room to film their introduction then led back to their hotel room without bumping into another contestant. It's essentially foolproof.

Levi and Petra have already filmed a vague introduction to the show, but most of the talking is done by Petra and Erwin—who can apparently choose on his own will whether or not he has to talk during things like this. The brunet chooses not to complain, however. He's totally fine with just brooding.

They're about to go ahead and film the conclusion to the promotional episode, but Nanaba interrupts with word that the first contestant has arrived, so all the members of the production crew shuffle behind the cameras and lights and microphones, all with varying degrees of excitement.

introduction one

The lights on the set flicker on to reveal a sizable young man, all tan muscle and bleached blond hair. Defined cheek bones protrude from his face and eyes squint at the camera while an easy grin takes hold on his features. He's seated on a stool positioned in front of a simple red background clad in a faded designer t-shirt and a pair of old blue jeans.

"Yo," he starts, raising one of his hands to wave lightly at the camera. "The name's Reiner Braun. I wouldn't call myself the most interesting guy, but I'm definitely happy to be here!"

He pauses awkwardly, not knowing what else to say, before allowing an uneasy laugh to echo throughout the room.

"I played on varsity football when I was in high school and was captain of the swim team for four years. After high school, I had originally planned to—" Reiner pauses for a moment, catching himself, looking as though he's become temporarily lost within his own thoughts. He covers it up fairly well, however, with a light shrug. "I'll be attending Village College this year in the fall. Woo! Go Titans!"

Having nothing left to say, he shoots the camera another warm smile as he opens the envelope on his lap and reads it aloud: "It doesn't matter what others say—write your own story."

He continues to stare at the paper in thought and the camera cuts off.

A single word flashes on-screen.

lost

introduction two

The lights flicker on to reveal the same scene as the one previous, but now, the boy sitting on the stool is of an average height and an average build and an average face. He looks awkward in his own skin, in his white button-up and lilac cardigan and tan pants that have been rolled up to his ankles. And yet, at the same time, there's a painted facade of comfort that he's allowed to devour him. He's a little contradiction all rolled into one, and it's strange and it's odd and it doesn't make any particular sense.

Bright blues that had been downcast and fumbling with the envelope in his lap quickly flicker upwards to meet the gaze of the camera. He blinks, and it's almost as though he's surprised—but then he smiles, and the expression seems to consume all of his features as his eyes disappear and his mouth widens to reveal pearly white teeth.

There's no denying that he looks like the average boy-next-door and maybe that's a good thing and maybe it's not.

"Hi! My name's Armin Arlert. I'm sorry if I'm a bit awkward, I've never been that good at talking to people." He shifts his weight around on the seat as though to prove his point before continuing, "I'm really looking forward to participating in this competition, and I hope that you'll enjoy watching it and supporting all of us here. I haven't met anyone yet, but I'm sure they're all going to be great people."

Another smile, equally as forced as the previous.

He proceeds to open his envelope, raising the paper so that the camera—and therefore, the audience—can see it as well. It's a bright blue piece of cardstock, and as he continues to flip it over and squint at it in confusion, the camera cuts off.

denial

introduction three

This time, it's a girl seated on the stool in front of the camera: bored icy blue eyes, white-blonde hair, pale complexion. She wears an old hoodie the color of the sky paired with gray skinny jeans and worn sandals.

She regards the camera cooly for a moment, almost as though she's sizing up the figures that lay on the other side, before calmly stating, "Annie Leonhardt. Eighteen."

There's muttering from offscreen, someone telling her to speak more.

A shrug.

"What else is there to say?"

She opens the envelope—much to the chagrin of the offscreen production crew—and reads: "It's the journey; not the destination."

Her eyebrow quirks upward as she allows herself a curt laugh. "Ha, bullshit."

abuse

introduction four

On the stool now sits a short boy with a wide, honest smile and a shaven head.

When he notices that the camera has turned on, his eyebrows raise themselves in genuine surprise and, if possible, the excitement on his features intensify. "Hi! I'm Connor Springer, but please, call me 'Connie' because 'Connor' just doesn't fit me. I'll probably get it legally changed one day, but in all honesty, that just sounds like a whole lot of unnecessary work. So I'll probably just keep putting it off for a while." He shrugs carelessly, his dark blue and green baseball tee moving with his shoulders in synchronization.

He rambles a bit more, easily finding more to say about himself than those who had been filmed before him: he likes baseball and Super Smash Bros and corny jokes and his mom made him take cooking classes which kind of suck because cooking is just not his thing.

Petra has to gently signal to him that he's overdoing it a bit with a few awkward hand motions, but thankfully, he notices them rather quickly and offers the camera an apologetic smile as he opens his envelope.

"The real enemy is who you'd least expect."

He blinks.

"Did you get this from a fucking fortune cookie or something?"

dependent

introduction five

The next boy's skin is painted with delicate freckles and atop his head sits greasy hair that's parted haphazardly in the middle. There's a kind of lopsided excitement dancing on his features as he stares at the camera.

And he just kind of stares.

Hange has to gently coax him from the sidelines to say something, and when she finally gets his attention, he jumps in surprise.

"O-Oh! Right. Haha." The young man looks nervous now as he scratches behind his ear awkwardly. "My name is Marco Bodt and I'm very happy to be on this show."

Marco continues to stare at the camera with the same confused smile on his face.

Realizing that there isn't going to be much to work with here, Petra signs him the go-ahead to open up his envelope, which he very quickly does.

"Keep yourself together."

The expression drops immediately and his freckles stand out brighter against the newfound paleness of his skin.

anxiety

introduction six

The next contestant on the stool is a young woman who hardly looks of age to be on the show: slight frame, large blue eyes, and stylish clothes that—although they look beautiful on her—are clearly too big. Spun gold is mussed towards her right side in a messy tussle of waves and it's difficult to tell whether the blush on her cheeks is natural or simply brushed on. She wears an over-sized russet sweater over a high-waisted floral skirt, gray tights, and an expression that's not exactly blank but not exactly emotional either.

When she looks up at the camera, it's with a coy, flirtatious smile, but her eyes seem to sparkle with something that's anything but friendly.

"Hi. My name is Historia Reiss, heiress to the famous Reiss industries—I suppose. A quick Google search will reveal that such words aren't really the case." She allows herself a laugh laced with mirth, somehow still maintaining the impression of innocence on her features as the producers behind the cameras glance at one another nervously. "I'm interested to see what kind of scenario is going to play out on this show, just as much as you guys at home are."

A thoughtful expression.

Someone signs for her to open her envelope which she does with a disinterested shrug. "Your identity is your largest secret."

She blinks in earnest surprise at the words, looking past the camera and directly at the production crew that stands behind it uncomfortably. It's ultimately Levi that comes up from behind the camera and explains to both the young woman and the audience: "Historia, you'll be using the alias, 'Krista Lenz,' within our show."

She snorts at this. Something about it seems half-hearted.

Levi raises a brow at her reaction but says nothing. As he walks away from her, back to his position behind the scenes, the camera zooms in on Historia's features as she struggles to maintain her stoic composure.

Her lip quivers.

ipseity

introduction seven

Replacing the frail girl before her is a tall woman with skin darkened by the sun and a splash of sharp freckles across her cheeks. An old baggy t-shirt with some crude saying that probably needs to be censored out clads her torso, the front tucked into a pair of comfortable joggers. A beanie reading a few more extremities sits pinned atop her head with some dark brown fringe framing the permanent scowl on her features.

"Hey. My name's Ymir. I'm basically here because I figure that if I'm not, I'm going to get thrown into jail since I'm actually legal now and that thought annoys the shit out of me."

She throws her head back to laugh at herself, amused by her own joke despite the crew's failure to see anything really funny about it.

(Levi though is smiling because this kid, at least, has some real spunk to her.)

"I'm hoping to win this for my own personal gain because like hell I'm actually going to go back to school—fuck that shit—I just want the money to buy my own private island away from all the goddamn cocksuckers that surround me."

A wide, cocky smirk from the young woman, and this is it, Levi's almost fucking positive that he knows who he wants to root for.

Ymir cuts the envelope open cleanly with the edge of her nail with unfathomable ease, raising the paper up to read it: "Keep her safe—she'll come in handy."

She crinkles her nose in disgust at the message, before turning to stare at the camera. "Is someone fucking with me right now?"

misanthropic

introduction eight

The lights flicker on to shine atop the brightly colored hair of the next contestant on the stool, her dyed red locks pulled back into a careless ponytail and her sidebangs accentuating the mischievous nature of her sparkling hazel eyes. She's wearing an oversized miscellaneously patterned sweater paired with a horizontally striped skirt and laced combat boots; the outfit as unique and vibrant as her character.

"Hello!" she cheers with a silly grin. "My name's Sasha Braus and I'm looking forward to being on this show and meeting everyone! It's definitely going to be a lot of fun. I'm from a rural family out in the countryside, so I don't really get opportunities like this often. In all honesty, I signed up to be here for the fun above all else, so I really hope that the others here aren't too boring."

She winks playfully at the camera as she giggles at her own thoughts. "Here's to the best, right? This is going to be awesome."

Sasha flashes another cheery smile before reading the piece of paper that she's already fished out of the envelope. "Honesty is the best policy."

It takes a moment for her to process the words, but once she does, she doesn't have much of a reaction. She offers an innocent shrug at the camera, then shifts her focus back to the paper in her hands.

compulsive

introduction nine

The next guy's a real character.

He sits on the stool as though it is a throne and he is its lazy king, his seemingly laidback posture suggesting an air of arrogant confidence to his persona. He's clad in an off-white polo with buttons left open to allow a glimpse of sharp collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to further accentuate his lean build. His slim fit jeans are folded a number of times so that the length of the pants reside a little higher than his ankles. A pair of colorfully tinted sunglasses adorns his features that are otherwise long, but undebatably handsome. His hairstyle is that of an undercut, the top portion styled in purposed disarray, and for some reason, just from looking at him, it's obvious that he's one of those guys that probably sprays too much Axe in the men's locker room.

"Hello," he starts, voice smooth and confident and even, "My name's Jean Kirstein and I'm from Trost."

It seems that he suddenly remembers that he's wearing glasses and he quickly takes them off, placing them in the pocket of his shirt, before offering a cocky smirk. "Like everyone else here—I hope—I'm confident in my victory and I'm not interested in going down without a fight. I have one goal in mind and I have no interest in anything else: I refuse to let anything distract me. That being said, I'm looking forward to your support? It's definitely going to be an interesting ride."

With that said, he opens his envelope, reads, "Love is in the air—but for who?"

He turns his dumbstruck stare to the camera and deadpans, "Seriously?"

narcissist

introduction ten

There's a striking similarity somewhere between this boy and the last but it's difficult to put it to a name.

This young man sits in a comfortable position that radiates humility and an easygoing nature. His eyes—an unnaturally bright shade of green-gold-blue—look perpetually glazed over, almost as though he is permanently wandering through the dreams of his own creation. He wears a faded band t-shirt and pair of dark ripped jeans and as he stares at the camera, chin resting on his hand in a position that could almost suggest boredom despite the life flickering in his eyes, he smirks.

It's nothing like Jean's; while the former's smile is all exuberant confidence, Eren's smile is of a secret that only he knows and, if you're lucky, maybe he'll choose to share it with you.

When he speaks, it's with a certain gravelly tone that none of the members of the production crew had originally expected from him. "Eren," he states simply. "I'm eighteen. Not really interested in going to college—I don't feel like they have much to offer me there—but I'm definitely interested in the chance to have my own TV show. I just think it'd be really cool to see the world, and if I win and you guys like me, it would be cool if you guys could see it too."

The answer is simple and straightforward: no confusing body language, no hidden meanings within his words, no misleading character traits—everything about Eren screams genuity and honesty. "It's my dream as of now," he starts, and suddenly there's a firm resolve in his voice as he raises his head from its resting position and sits up a little straighter. "And I don't care if I have to go through hell and back to take hold of it."

With that said, he tears the envelope open.

"Be the last man standing."

Eren snorts. "Easy."

reckless

introduction eleven

The woman that replaces Eren on the seat is absolutely nothing like him. While the previous boy had seemed comfortable in his own skin and held a laidback demeanor towards everything happening around him, this woman sits stiffly on the stool and has a thin veil of sweat threatening to drip down her forehead.

She doesn't look like a teenager based on her clothing alone: white dress shirt, brown leather jacket, and dark-washed jeans. She looks too stoic, too uptight, too adult, and on a show that focuses on teenagers growing up with one another for a month or two, it's clear that she's going to stand out from the others on looks alone. The only thing that offers a sense of life is the black ebony of her hair, reaching down to just below her shoulders in a silky stream with bangs that shadow fragments of her gray eyes.

She's pretty, really. Her beauty is blatant and simple. Unavoidable.

"Hello. My name is Mikasa," she says. And then she turns quiet because she's not quite sure what else she's supposed to say.

Her eyes flick upwards through her lashes and her bangs to meet those behind the camera.

Levi knows instantly that she's in a panic and prays that she doesn't say anything that she'll regret later.

There's clear hesitation on the young brunette's part as her lips part with no words to flow through them. "I've been taught privately my entire life," she manages, and the next piece tumbles out of her mouth without her approval. "I just want to make friends."

She's mortified.

The blush consumes her features and that's it, she wants to disappear, and taking pity on his cousin, Levi almost cuts the tape right then and there.

Eld won't allow it though. Something about how it wouldn't be fair to the other contestants.

Eager to get off the camera, she fumbles with the envelope in her lap—which is even more embarrassing because God, she's usually so composed—and reads, "If he wins, you do too."

Her eyes are wide and frantic and searching when she turns back up to look at the camera.

destitute

introduction twelve

The final contestant is tall and lanky and has been sweating under the stagelights on the stool for a while now, even before the camera had began to film. He's wearing a collared blue and white sweater with matching white shorts and this expression that makes him look as though he wants to puke.

"Hi," he slowly begins, taking a moment to adjust the collar around his neck. "I'm Bertholdt."

A moment of silence.

"In all honesty, I only signed up for this because my friend didn't want to do it alone. Oddly enough, I made the cast and he didn't."

Another moment of silence.

"I'm sorry," he mutters. "I hope that I'll still have support though, despite my admitting to that."

He's run out of things to do.

The envelope is opened, but there's nothing inside.

Bertholdt blinks, once, twice.

He really looks like he's going to puke now.

?

"Wow, Levi, don't all of these contestants look amazing! I'm so excited to see what they'll have in store for us," Petra exclaims with an excited clap of her hands, easily falling into her role of "super happy, super peppy host that supports all of the endeavors of the contestants."

Levi offers a shrug. "There's not much to go off of right now. They look like a bunch of fucking wimps. Except that one chick. I guess."

Levi's role is "asshole host who constantly chooses to take a shit on the contestants and their personal lives." When he realizes this, he simultaneously realizes that he doesn't even need a script, and that comforts him to no end.

She chastises him playfully for his negativity (which is probably going to happen a lot, but oh well, you win some you lose some), before turning back to the camera with another grin. "Teenage Wasteland will be premiering next Friday night at eight o'clock sharp! Don't forget to give us—or any of our contestants—a shout-out before then and we'll feature it on the show!"

Petra throws in words like "hashtag" and "liking on Facebook" and "follow us" and Levi kind of cringes because ew, social media.

"Until then," Levi finishes with a half-hearted wave. "These asswipes probably need all the support they can get from you because they sure as hell aren't getting it from me and it'll be a while before they even learn to respect one another."

A carefree shrug.

The woman at his side says something else in a bubbly voice, some cheesy catchphrase of a sort, and the camera clicks off.

a/n: wow, i hope that wasn't too dragging. otl. i usually don't like introducing characters this way (telling you their character traits instead of just showing them), but i feel like in the case of this story, there's definitely an appeal: they appear as one way when they're still strangers to you, but as the story continues and you get to know them more, it's clear that they're not all that they seem. i tried to hint at that with their respective missions and single "description" word, so hopefully you guys find that at least a little bit interesting, haha.

there's also going to be a confessional on the show when it actually starts and it's going to be just as choppy as it was here (probably with more actual plot between each confession though, lol), so i guess i also just wanted the practice, haha

i thought it would be fun to make this somewhat interactive, so like, some of your comments can affect what the producers think which will, in turn, affect the contestants. most of this is just to decide who gets little competitive perks for now though and someone will get the label of being "most talked about" in the next chapter (the first episode), lol

(also, remember, third-place is decided by fan votes, and fans mean you guys, so yay interactive featuresss /shot)

okay, this a/n is dragging on a little too far, haha. i'm really excited to start the actual plot though! it's going to be a blast, haha

feedback, as always, is super appreciated! i'd really like to know what you guys think of the characters so far. c: