𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝘽𝙀𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙍𝙀𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙉
No Name! is quite the mysterious band. Nobody knows where they came from, or how they became so talented. In fact, they are so mysterious that nobody has ever seen the band members out in...
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•Narrator•
"My God, Petra. You're so wierd," Nanaba, her friend mutters as Petra dialed Levi's number into her phone. After all, it couldn't hurt to check on him, right?
Levi was just packing up from his last show when he phone rang, "It's Petra," he murmurs. He enters the bathroom, which is void of people, and takes the call there, "Hello?"
"Hey, Levi!" Petra chirps, "So, how's your visit so far?"
"Oh," He forget about the excuse he made so Petra wouldn't find out about his role in the No Name! band, "It's fine."
"That's great! Hey, let me tell you about the concert!" Petra brings up.
Levi looks out the bathroom door. Erwin was ushering the crew out of the backstage area, "Petra, my uncle and I are going out for some drinks."
"Oh, ok. I'll talk to you later," Petra says, slightly saddened, "Bye, Levi."
"Good night, Petra," Levi bades farewell. He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket.
The bathroom door is knocked on twice, "Anyone in there?" Erwin asks. Levi walks out, "Get on the bus," The raven haired man strolls past his agent.
Back at Petra's place, she and her roommate were reading magazines while watching reality TV shows. On TV two girls (ratchet ones) began swiping their fists at each other. Nanaba snickered at what was happening on screen. Petra, on the other hand, wasn't paying too much attention to what was happening on screen. For some time, something had been bugging her. But she never knew what.
At the No Name! concert, she felt as if a large weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now she knew what was bothering her.
It was Rivaille and her co-worker, Levi.
...
The Next Morning
...
(F/N) set the bag of breakfast take out on the wooden table she and Ymir kept in their dormitory. Ymir was showering at the moment, which gave (F/N) a somewhat small peace of mind. In the meanwhile, she placed the take out in the microwave provided to all university students.
"I smell croissants!" Ymir emerged from the bathroom in a robe, her short, brown in strands.
(F/N) chuckles, "Yeah, right." Ymir gets into her clothes and strolls towards the microwave, grabbing her bottle of lemonade on the way.
"Where you'd get these?" Ymir asks her roommate through a mouthful of her croissant.
"Rose Café," (F/N) answers, taking a swig of her lemonade. This morning, she had gone to that café in particular to see a certain cashier. To her dismay, he wasn't there. A ginger hair girl had attended to her order instead.
Ymir takes another bite out of her breakfast, "Cool. So, how was the concert last night?"
"It was pretty fun, actually. I got an autograph!" she gushed.
"Really?" Ymir implored, "How exactly?!"
(F/N) was on the verge of laughter, and she couldn't take it anymore, "By falling off a guy's shoulders!"
Ymir spat out her lemonade all over her green sweatshirt, "Now what?!"
"I'm not joking," she insists, "My friend's friend put me on their shoulders and they literally dropped me."
"Damn!" the homosexual of the two laughed out, "I think I'm going to use that method, too!"
"Go wild. Drop Christa onto the ground, that's a good idea," (F/N) joked.
"You're making me feel guilty!" teased Ymir.
(F/N) smirks, "You should," Ymir flips her off and proceeds to eat her croissant, which is halfway gone. The eating area remains quiet as the two females eat their food.
As Ymir thinks about her girlfriend, the (E/C) eyed girl reflected on the band member who had spoken to her in the backstage area. For days, she had been thinking about both the cashier and band member. Sometimes, she foolishly speculated that they were the same person. But she passed that off as rubbish. What would a world famous vocalist be doing serving coffee to city dwellers?
They could be twins, she considered, the theory being quite convincing to her. It's not like the cashier was the type to sing. In fact, he didn't seem like a music lover to her at all. Not with that attitude, (F/N) deliberated.
I'm going to find out more about the situation, she thought.
