They did not end up watching a movie. Berthold had mentioned something to Reiner about an event going on at their college. Some kind of art festival. Reiner wasn't really that into art, but two out of three in the group were, so he had told them he didn't mind it if they wanted to go. So, they went. Berthold was more of a sculptor and had wandered off to that end of the fair with Reiner in tow. Jean was looking at the paintings and sketches that people had either put up on display or were currently working on. A few food stalls were set up throughout the area, claiming all proceeds went to the funding of the art program or something along those lines.
Jean made his way over to the large fountain in the center of it all and sat on its edge. The festival was probably more fun if you actually went to the school. He was glad he had the foresight to bring his sketchbook, stashed away in his messenger bag. He pulled it out, folded his legs up underneath him, and began to draw. Nothing in particular at first. A random, floating eye here. A pair of disembodied lips there. Just practicing bits of anatomy. Then he started to draw a few tattoo designs. A few birds, a fox, a woman with exaggerated body parts. Jean had played around with doing something with his art for a while.
A year or two ago, he decided he really liked the idea of tattoos and did a little research. Turns out, getting an apprenticeship to a good tattoo artist was a lot harder than he had originally thought. Not to mention nerve wracking. He'd gone into a local parlor once before to ask questions, gather information. He was shown a few portfolios and his confidence withered, just a little.
Jean straightened his back and looked up through the crowd, starting to thin as the sun began to set. He started to think that he should go find Reiner and Berthold when a familiar, freckled face wandered into his line of vision. They made eye contact and Marco smiled, walking over to greet Jean. "Hey!" he said with a big, genuine grin on his face, "Didn't expect to see you here."
Jean shrugged, "I came here with a couple friends. They go here, and I thought a college art festival would be more...lively."
Marco huffed a laugh, "I know what you mean. I don't go to this college, but one of my friends does. He didn't want to go alone."
Jean looked over Marco's shoulder and saw no one, "Where is he?"
"Well," Marco sighed, "Turns out, he didn't want to show up alone. But when he ran into a couple of his classmates he sort of left me behind." he shrugged.
"That sucks." Jean said, failing to add anything that would continue the conversation. He was good at that. He began to feel awkward and self-conscious. He broke eye contact and fidgeted with his sketchbook.
"Sorry," Marco said, as if suddenly realizing he was doing something rude, "I'm Marco." he said, extending a hand for Jean to shake.
He took it, "Jean."
"Jean?" Marco asked, making sure he was pronouncing the name right. When Jean nodded he added, "Fancy name. French, right?"
Jean blinked. Most people couldn't even pronounce his name, let alone guess the origin. Color him impressed. And grateful. The mispronunciations of his name as jokes got old quickly, and he was tiered of correcting people. "Yeah."
Marco smiled at him, "So what are you drawing?" he asked, taking a seat next to him.
Jean stiffened a bit. He didn't really like showing people his work. Not yet, anyway. Occasionally he would show something to Berthold or Christa, but that was about it. Still, it wasn't like he had actually been trying too hard on these sketches. So if Marco said they weren't good, he could just say that. Couldn't he?
Biting at the inside of his cheek, Jean handed over his sketchbook to Marco. He looked over the birds and fox with obvious admiration, and rose a brow at the cartoon-ish lady. "You're really good." Marco said with a smile. "Are you taking any classes here?"
"No, college isn't really my thing."
Marco hummed, "I get that. You just like drawing then?"
"I guess." Jean shrugged.
"I'm not much of an artist, myself. Can't even draw stick people."
He laughed a little at that, "Do you have any idea how many people say that to me?"
"Too many?"
"Yes."
"Armin, that friend I came here with? He gets so mad whenever I say that to him. It's kind of funny, actually."
Jean pouted a bit, "So you said it to me? Clearly, you're not as nice as you look." He teased.
Marco gave him an innocent smile and shrugged. They chatted for a bit as they flipped through Jean's sketchbook, about nothing in particular. A little about Jean's art, a bit about Marco's college experiences. He was going to school for nursing. Marco admitted this shyly, evidently use to being teased or mocked for it. Jean did neither of these things. Instead, he asked questions. Why was he wanting to be a nurse? Were classes hard? Did they involve a large amount of math?
In turn, Marco asked Jean what he was planning to do, if not go to college. He reacted to Jean's goal of becoming a tattoo artist with mild surprise, but also intrigue. Marco wasn't really into tattoos or piercings or anything like that, but he admired it on others. He had a healthy amount of respect for tattooists. They weren't aloud to mess up. There was no eraser for ink under skin. You had to make it work, or loose a client. Or several, if word got out that you botched a single job. You could get fired. Black listed. Your entire career over in one misplaced line. The thought gave Jean anxiety, but Marco reassured him that he was more than talented enough.
The sun had nearly set, now. The fair was starting to close down. Booths packing up and people clearing out. A somewhat short boy with blonde hair at shoulder length and the top part tied back into a pony-tail approached them with one other boy and a pretty girl in tow, "Hey, Marco. Eren, Mikasa, and I were gonna go hang out for a while. Wanna come?"
"Nah, I'm kinda tired. I think I'll just head home, if you've got a ride." Marco replied with a wave of his hand.
"Yeah I got him." the boy, Eren, stated with a smile and a thumbs-up.
"Alright, cool, I'll see you later." they waved each other goodbye and Jean looked around. Where the hell were Reiner and Berthold?
"I think maybe I should go find my friends." he said, still trying to find them in the now sparse crowd.
"You want any help?" Marco offered.
"Hold on, let me try calling them." Jean pulled out his phone and first dialed Reiner. When there was no answer, he tried Berthold, but again no one picked up. "Those assholes. Their my ride and they know it." he mumbled to himself.
Marco nudged him in the shoulder, "Come on, I'll help you look. What do they look like?"
"Reiner is a big, buff lookin guy. You can't really miss him. And Berthold is just...really tall. He's like a baby giraffe."
"Oh, I think I know him. Berthold Hoover, right?"
"Yeah, that's him."
"Alright, no problem then. I'll just look for Berthold and you look for the other guy."
Jean stood up on the fountains edge, trying to get a hire vantage point, but still not seeing either of his two friends. He told Marco he last saw them over by the sculptors and they walked over in that direction. Jean tried calling Reiner again. He didn't answer, again. At this point Jean thought it best to simply spam Reiner's phone with calls and text messages. By the third or fourth call, Reiner finally answered, "Yeah?" He said, sounding a bit annoyed and out of breathe.
"Dude, where are you? The fair thing ended like, half an hour ago." Jean said, sounding just as irritated.
"It did?" there was some muffled swearing and hushed words before, "Uh, okay, we'll meet you at the car."
Jean sighed, "Yeah, alright."
They hung up the phone and Jean let Marco know what the new plan was. "Where were they?" He asked.
Jean shrugged, "Probably making out."
Marco blinked for a second, trying to decide if Jean was serious or not, "Wait, really?" he finally asked.
Jean just shrugged again, "Problem?" he asked, feeling just a bit protective over his friends. Berthold was a big guy, but a bit sensitive. He wasn't going to let anyone try and tell him being gay was anything but perfectly fine.
"No, no, there's nothing wrong with it. I just didn't know he had a boyfriend." Marco said quickly.
"Oh." Jean relaxed, "Really? I mean, they kinda like to pretend it's a secret from everyone but I always thought it was obvious."
"Maybe." Marco shrugged.
They made their way over to a slightly beat-up looking Volkswagen, Jean declaring that this was the car. Marco nodded and waved goodbye just as Berthold and Reiner made their grand re-entrance. "Sorry," Reiner said once Marco was gone, "We kind of lost track of time. Berthold was really into this one sculpture..." Said boy was currently shifting back and forth on his feet, face red and clearly nervous. Or flustered. It was hard to tell which with Berthold.
"Uh-huh." Jean said evenly, not even a little convinced. "Whatever, it's still early. You wanna just head back over to our place?"
"Sounds good."
They piled into the car and drove back to Reiner's apartment. It was on the first floor and the inside was surprisingly neat. A well organized bookshelf, sparkling clean kitchen, and a bedroom with the door constantly shut to everyone but Reainer (and probably Berthold when they were alone). The bathroom was the only exception to the cleanliness, but even then it was mostly just clutter and dirty clothes.
Berthold didn't live with Reiner either. He stayed with his parents, off campus. It was cheaper that way. He was, however, over enough to practically be living there, and on more than one occasion, Jean had accidentally called it Reiner and Berthold's apartment. And since it was a one-bedroom, it pretty much outed them to anyone that was even a little close to either of the two. Honestly, Jean was pretty sure the only reason the two were still trying to be secretive around everyone was because Bertholds parents didn't know. And while Bert was living with them, he wanted to keep it that way.
The tree males crammed themselves onto the couch and scrolled through Netflix, arguing over whatever another wanted to watch. They finally settled on a sequel to a Disney movie, poking holes in the plot and logic of the story as the film progressed. In the end, they all decided any continuation of a Disney film was ultimately, trash. They watched a couple more b-movies before Jean checked the time and concluded that it was probably safe to go home.
For the next couple of days, Jean wasn't scheduled for the lunch rush. Which was good. Jean hated the lunch rush with a passion. Between his lack of people skills and the inevitable wait everyone had to go through, he never got tips. Instead, he had been scheduled for a few hours after lunch, meaning he only got about five hours in, those days. Which sucked. Jean needed the extra money for the equipment he'd need to buy for tattooing. Apprenticeships weren't free, or cheap.
He was back to his regular scheduling (eight to five) by midweek, and glad for it. Unfortunately, he had a very delicate sleep system and it had been disturbed with the promises of not needing to go to work until late. So, Jean had been up late the past few nights. He was all caught up on a few shows he'd been meaning to watch, at least. He groaned and checked the clock on the wall, looking away from the pot of coffee he was brewing. It was almost time for his lunch, and thankfully the new girl had come in today. He would actually get to leave somewhere.
He poured a cup of coffee for himself (because he needed the caffeine and they got free coffee working here anyway) and then one fore a customer, waiting on a double shot cappuccino. He severed them their coffee and one other table their gourmet sandwiches before going back to his coffee. He cringed when the now barely warm liquid flooded his mouth, but gulped it down anyway. He checked the clock again before calling to the new girl, Mina, that he was going on his lunch. She looked at him, wide-eyed at first, but regained her composer (and hopefully her confidence) before nodding her acknowledgment.
Jean left the building and got into his crappy Nissan. The damn thing raddled and groaned and threatened to fall apart every time he drove it, but it got him from point-A to point-B with reasonable gas mileage and that was all Jean cared about. He made a quick run by a burger joint and devoured his food in a few minutes. His lunch break was about an hour long so he had time to kill after he actually ate. If Sasha had been working, he might have considered just going back to the cafe` but he didn't know Mina, really, so what was he supposed to do with all this extra time on his hands?
Jean decided he would go an investigate this nerd store Marco had claimed to work at. Why not? Maybe they actually had something interesting over there. Jean was parked outside the shop in a matter of minutes. The building was small, windows plastered with sun-bleached posters, making it difficult to look in from outside. He got out of his car and entered the building, greeted with cluttered tables and shelves. Glass counters showed off separate cards and colorful dice with way too many sides. Behind the counters were even more shelves filled with a variety of board games and boxes that looked too small to be anything but containers for cards. And Marco.
His nose was buried in a book, a sight Jean had come to expect, and he hadn't bothered to look up at the new customer, despite the automatic beeping noise that sounded after the door was opened. Actually, Jean was the only customer, it seemed. He made his way over to the counter and spoke up, "So, you weren't kidding about the inventory thing, were you?" Marco jumped a bit and looked up to see Jean not looking at him, but around the store, "This place is packed."
Marco smiled and shrugged, "It's mostly just lack of organization. We're in the middle of a shipment."
"Well, I can see you're right on top of that." Jean said, motioning to the book in front of them. It actually just looked like a very thick comic book and...were those zombies?
Marco folded the corner of the page he was on and shut the book, "Well, there's not a whole lot going on, you see." he gestured with his arms at the empty room, "And it wasn't my turn to do this stuff, anyway. Annie was supposed to be the one who took stock and cleaned all of it up, but she's kind of disappeared." He shrugged.
Jean hummed at that and picking through a bowl filled with tiny pokemon. There was seriously something off about them, but Jean couldn't quite put his finger on it. Then he found one with black eyes and red pupils, "Dude," he said, "This thing looks demonic."
Marco laughed, "Yeah they aren't exactly the best we've had. None of them are painted right. Really, I don't even know where they came from. They were just here one day and out boss isn't saying anything."
"That a little...weird."
"You don't have to tell me that. I like pokemon as much as the next guy but this..." Marco sifted through the bowl and pulled out a random mini. It was too dark of a blue and a bit misshapen. He dropped it back into the bowl, "So, what brings a cool kid like you to my humble little nerd shop?"
Jean laughed, "Oh, you know, just thought I'd steal you lunch money before heading back to work."
Marco snorted, "You'll have to look more intimidating than that, if you want my lunch money." Jean twisted his lips and furrowed his brow to make an exaggerated expression of anger. Marco sputtered a laugh before saying, "Jesus, you have got to play D&D with us. You'd be perfect."
Jean shrugged, face returning to normal, "Maybe. It could be fun, I guess. But I have literally no idea what it is, or what it's about."
Marco waved his hand, "Don't worry about it. You'd pick it up in no time, I'm sure. Berthold's playing, too. So it's not like you wouldn't know anyone. We could really use another member. Our group just got a bit smaller since a couple people had to drop."
Jean hummed to himself, "Maybe. Let me think about it. I'd have to take a look at my schedule, I think. I have Mondays off, consistently."
"That would work for us. We're pretty flexible anyway."
"Alright, I'll stop by at some point." And why not? It wasn't like he had that much to do on his days off. Why not try something new? This could potentially be fun. Marco seemed nice, Berthold would be there, and he might even enjoy himself.
"Do you want my number?" Marco asked after a second, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, "So I can let you know when we're starting and you can let me know if you get caught up or whatever."
"Oh, yeah, sure." Jean pulled out his phone. They exchanged numbers and made idle chitchat for the next ten or fifteen minutes before Jean decided he had better get back to the cafe` and help out with clean up and what not. They said their goodbyes and parted ways.
Jean had an odd sense of anticipation as he drove back to work and clocked in to begin his second shift. He even had a bit of a bounce to his step and smiled easier at irritating customers. This of course, did not go unnoticed by Sasha, who constantly tried to probe him for information. "Why are you so happy?" she would ask him with a sing-song voice. Jean just shrugged and carried on. He had no doubt she'd figure it out, eventually. Through Connie or someone. And she would poke and tease him, saying how he's flirting when really he was just being nice to a nice guy. Ordinarily, the idea of it would annoy him. But this time, he couldn't really find it in himself to care.