Nov 24, 2021
3:00.
3:00 was when the formal officially started. You had shown up 30 minutes late. Which was not entirely your fault.
After you and Sasha ate a lunch consisting of rolled up deli meats and miscellaneous cheeses in the fridge, which she labeled as an 'impromptu Sharchoochie board', you ended up going down a rabbit hole of videos about Oreo's and the science behind the cream. Not a conspiracy video, however still - a mind blanking concept. Who knew how scientific and factual one could get about cream?
Your plan was to begin getting ready at 1. However, due to the video you began to get ready at 1:30. Sasha started her makeup, while you showered - the mornings events haunting you as you shaved your body in the normal places.
You ended up drying your hair, and by the time you started doing your own makeup it was 2:15. Sasha was finishing up with hers. By 2:45 you were finally done and dressed - and Sasha was also ready to go.
You were feeling yourself. The dress wasn't too long, nor was it short. The formal was cocktail attire, so no dresses at the thigh level. It was simple, a tight fit V-neck line, the fabric clenched in just the right areas in your hips and your ribs. It was simple, elegant, and the best part of all - pockets.
You felt confident, you felt ready but you also You felt totally unlike yourself. You hadn't worn a dress like this since Senior Prom; but everything else about the situation was boosting your confidence. You couldn't help but send a snapchat along to Eren, posing it in a way to flaunt your chest.
You didn't even think that he would get jealous, you just felt confident and you knew he was a boob man. He'd enjoy the pic, he is a guy. He was quick to respond, and it was a picture of his PC at home - the boy playing Valorant now that he was there today and for the next few - in the text box all it said was Smash.
You giggled, and didn't respond back.
In his humble abode, Eren was jealous you looked that good for Jean.
In your own household - once again that thought didn't even cross your mind. Oblivious, you were as always - downright dumb on the matter. But hey, that's part of your charm, right?
By 2:45 you finally hit the first red light. This is where the both of you failed. Sasha had assumed that you had found someone to give you a ride to the venue. However, you had assumed that she had done the same. So at 2:50, when you should have been driving to get to the place, you were calling everyone to see if someone was around to bring the two of you - when you checked Uber and Lyft the cost was way more than the two of you had to your name combined.
You called Jean, while she called Connie. Jean's went straight to voicemail, which concerned you because you were his date and he hand't texted you all day - and Connie did pick up. But the kid was already quite tipsy due a pregame they had at the house with the sister sorority. Which no, you were not invited to. Connie blabbed some nonsense into the phone, and then hung up as well.
All of which kind of stressed you out because Sasha was Connies plus one and once again; Jean hadn't talked to you at all about tonight - what if you weren't actually his date?
No, that's crazy talk.
Then you called Marco, and she called Niccolo - both who didn't pick up. When it got to be 3:00 that's when the real panic kicked in, and the two of you began spamming every single person you knew on campus. Until finally one person picked up.
"Hello?"
"YMIR." You yelled into your phone.
"Are you okay?" She asked first, sounding genuinely concerned. "You never call me." She quickly added to that, rationalizing her initial reaction.
"I'm fi-" You cut yourself off, you in fact were not fine. "No, I need you to come here."
"Huh, Wha- What's going on!" She yelled and you heard stumbling on the other line. The girl rushing wherever she was. "I'm at my apartment, are you home? Shit, did you cut yourself on the counter again." She kept talking, while you remained silent. Feeling guilty about lying, or whatever this was. "Hello. Hello? Are you there?"
"I'm here." It came out as quiet as a squeak. Sasha eyeballed you, face full of confusion.
"Okay, stay there I'm on my way." Rushed. Frazzled. Ymir was on her way.
She hung up and you dropped your arms down to your side, feeling guilty yet relieved at what you had just done. You lied to the girl, sort-of, but it was for a very important cause. She'd hopefully understand.
"Is she brining us there?" Sasha stared at your phone, still confused.
You shrugged back in response. "I dunno, but she is coming here so I bet she'll drive us when she arrives." You played with your phone in your hands. "She might murder me, but I think this is for a good cause."
"Well if she murders you, I promise your name wont go in vein." Sasha patted your back, a heavy hand clasping around your shoulder blades. "We'll give you a FUN-eral, yeah - full of alcohol, drugs, and sweet sweet memories of the past."
Your eyes fluttered in amusement. FUN-eral? What is this girl on? "Sounds like you've been planning my death." You joked at her.
"Planning? More like plotting it every day since the moment I met you." Even though Sasha was a bit dumb at times, dense in the best way, and oblivious to most conversational context clues - she was quick with her comebacks, the girl had some wit.
"Morbid." You told her with a blank tone.
Sasha stopped comforting your shoulders with her hand. "Indeed."
In the time that Ymir took that get to the house, Sasha had convinced you to pregame with her, although it really didn't take much convincing. She pulled out a bottle of Tito's and you and her were eager to rip two quick shots. If Connie and Jean got to pregame, so would the two of you. You couldn't be sober going to the event. Especially with how many people were going, the high amounts of complete strangers that would be there.
You knew Jean and Connie and the boys they lived with, but you failed to be acquainted with the rest of their frat. Even though you attended all AOT parties - no way in hell would you be able to put names to faces.
You were a confident girl to a fault, of course hordes of strangers would make you nervous. In what situation would they not.
When Ymir arrived, the girl slammed through the always unlocked door - the golden handle on the inside hitting the the wall so hard you just knew there would be a dent. You and Sasha snapped your heads toward the entrance, staring at the freckled brunette who held her car keys in one hand and a travel first aid kit in the other.
Ymir looked like she just rolled out of bed, which would't be surprising since Historia had went home for the holiday and Ymir was left alone in Trost. Her choppy brunette hair was sticking up behind her head, all over the place. A poster child for the term 'bedhead'. Her face was red, like she had just ran a mile or so - her breathing uneven as she stood her ground in the house. Locking eyes with you, you gave her a sheepish smile back and then the girl looked you up and down. "Wha-"
"Ymir! So glad you answered the phone and agreed to drive us. Thank you so so much" Sasha skipped past the introduction to your horrid fate, cheerfully thanking the girl that had no idea what was going on.
In this very moment you weren't sure if Sasha was stupid, or the most intelligent person on the planet.
"Whu, wha-" Ymir babbled, looking between the two of you and then locking eyes with you again. Her eyes that always seemed to be annoyed had a fire behind them that was scorching your being. That usual stare replaced with a look that can, and would kill. Her only target, you. "I'm going to wring your neck." Calmly, she told you.
You opened your mouth to defends you actions, but nothing came out.
Sasha responded for you, "She'd probably like that you know." A hand slammed hard on your back as your friend continued to diffuse the situation - you coughed from the harsh impact. "What girl doesn't wanna be choked out."
"Me." Ymir deadpanned.
There was an awkward silence in the air after that, the two of you not knowing exactly what to say back. But was was important about the silent moment was that Ymir did not turn on her heel and storm out. She still stood in the entrance to the house, almost waiting for a command.
"So," She started, her arms crossing over her chest. "To clarify, you called me here to come pick you two up and drive you to the idiots prom or whatever."
You nodded. The Idiots Prom.
"Which you knew you had today." She followed that with.
You nodded again, peeking at Sasha who was averting her gaze from both you and Ymir. Trying hard not to be a part of the conversation at hand. She had already done her part.
"And instead of asking me on the phone, 'hey Ymir -I'm a fucking moron and I forgot to get a ride to the prom - would you be able to drive us there? - you chose to lead me to believe you cut your thigh open again and I was going to have to drive your dumbass self to the hospital."
You bit down on your lower lip, and once again - nodded.
"Yep." A thumbs up appeared in front of your face, followed by the chipper tone of Sasha agreeing with the girl.
Ymir sighed. "I hate you both more than words can describe." Using her hand that held her car keys she pinched her brow. "Get in my car, I'll fucking drive the two of you." She mumbled, but you and Sasha heard it loud and clear.
"Thank you!" Sasha screeched, and then continued to repeat as the three of you finally left the house. "Thank you, thank you, thank you - " and so on was spoken as the three of you entered the girls car.
You remained silent, knowing your place in this ordeal. You know when a person is just so angry you can feel it? You can practically taste the sweet aroma of agitation in the air, and feel the tension in their bones? That feeling that the person right next to you wanted to hurt you, and not in a pleasurable kind of way?
That's how the car ride was.
You felt the heat of Ymir's anger from the front seat while Sasha sat in the middle seat in the back, oblivious to it all. Or just played dumb about it, you were a bit confused by her antics today. Maybe cutting her asshole rewired something in her brain.
Sasha spewed out her Thanksgiving plans while the two of you sat in the front and unfortunately listened for the entirety of the ride there.
At 3:30, give or take a few minutes, Ymir had pulled into the venue and parked her car in the lavish stone semi circle. Now waiting for the two of you to get out and make your way inside.
Sasha was first out, trowing Ymir a half-assed thank you as she slammed the door behind her and began to adjust her dress from a few feet away. Picking up her fallen straps, soothing the ripples in the gown, fixing her heel, smoothing her hair - the works.
Before you got out you turned to Ymir, a forced smile on your face. One that did not meet your eyes. "Thank you, seriously, I-"
"You owe me." She cut you off.
You nodded back, knowing that you did a fucked up thing.
"Like, big time."
You nodded again.
Then Ymir sighed, her head slamming back into the seat. "You look great, I hope...I hope you have a good night."
Out of everything that could have been said last, that is not what you expected from the girls mouth. "...Thank you." You told her, and you meant it. You meant that thanks with all of your heart, because when did Ymir ever compliment anyone other than Historia.
"Mhm." She continued to look straight ahead, but her right eye locked on your frame. "Good luck."
"Luck?" You questioned her, your fingers dancing around the door handle. You paused you actions, waiting for her to further explain before you got out of the car.
But she never did. Ymir rolled her head, muttering something under her breath that you couldn't quite pick up. Her fingers went to the gear shift, "get out." She commanded.
Ymir did not have to tell you twice, rushing out a last thank you to the girl, your fingers squeezed the handle and you were stumbling out of the car - slamming the door behind you. You didn't even have the chance to catch your breath before Ymir sped away.
You took a few steps forward, your heels clicking on the ground and echoing in the dome around you. Taking a few seconds to eye the entrance of the place. It was gorgeous. By far the fanciest place that you had ever been to. The masonry was tan tiles, and on each larger stone a design was carved into it - glistening in the sunlight due to the golden foil dug in.
If the entrance was this grand, you were nervous to see the rest of the place. When in all your life had you been somewhere this expensive looking.
"You good?" Sasha asked, the girls hand out for you to grab. You and her hadn't held hands in a while... you used to do that all the time.
"Yeah." You nodded, taking another look around you and slowly moving up to interlock them. "This place looks..." Your voice trailed off.
"Expensive." She finished your sentence, squeezing your hands just a bit in excitement. "Just wait until you try the food, Connie and I cleared trays of finger food during cocktail hour last year. I swear, I think he ate his body weight in mini quiches and cocktail weenies."
"I can't-" You swallowed the anxious pool of saliva that filled the back of your throat. You didn't finish that thought, not wanting to bring up that topic again. It was pathetic that it was in the forefront of your mind. Pathetic that it was on the tip of your tongue. The feeling that you didn't belong here, and that in no way was it fair that Jean just paid for this without wanting anything in return. Or maybe he did want something, he just didn't have the balls to ask for it.
But was it even worth it to talk about it with Sasha? Did she actually care? Or would she just find it entertainment and spill it to the nearest ears wanting to hear?
You didn't know anymore.
Oh how things change.
Tightening her grip on your hand, Sasha gave you one very forceful tug and the two of you then walked inside. You forced yourself to choke down those negative thoughts, push them way in the back of your mind. This would be a fun night, with three of your closest friends. A night to drink, to eat, to dance and to live life to the fullest - no need to be negative. Really, what in the world could go wrong?
If the outside entrance of the venue was grand, the inside was...well...grander? Yeah, we'll go with that description.
A faux marble staircase was the first thing in front of you, just a few steps going up - so you followed the path up and then were standing on a deep purple carpet that stretched to the end of the hallway. The walls decorated with ornate gold furnishings, the ceilings crafted with bronze illustrative tiles. Benches, mirrors, paintings - the place felt like a museum.
"Ladies! You two here from Trost?" You whipped your head around to the voice, closing your jaw that had dropped from the decor.
"We are! Are they outside still?" Sasha was functioning much better than you were, she always did in new places.
"Oh cool." The young man sighed, almost relieved he didn't have to do his job since Sasha eluded to knowing what was going on. His fingers came up and he pointed at the glass doors at the end of the hallway. "Yeah, go through those doors, cocktail hours outside for another half hour or so."
"Thanks!" Sasha told him, and then she quickly began to walk off - you were still in her tow. She dragged you down the ornate hallway, your eyes scanning the walls as you went through. "I hope they have the quiches, oh and the weenies - and oh my god, I hope they have bacon wrapped dates again. I swear, when I stuffed that little skewed poop fruit into my mouth I think I had the best orgasm of my life." You half listened as she talked, noting that you should dry a bacon wrapped date in order to cum. "For real though, Nic never has made me feel that sort of sensation before."
"Good to know."
Once at the end of the hall by the glass doors you had another shit your pants moment. Stomach doing fucking backflips as the two of you opened up the doors and stepped outside.
A patio was the first thing you stepped out onto to, a small one. About a few paces away was a stone staircase going down, to the right was railing tight to the building but the left of the patio extended out. Lounging there on the chairs and sofas the venue had out was a group of guys you had never even seen before - the lot of them smoking cigars, with low whiskey glasses in hand.
You assumed that they were freshman, just from the vibe they were giving off. The fact that they were 'classily' flaunting their beverages was a dead give away of their status - and the fact that it probably wasn't legal that they had that.
The boys stared at the two of you. Until one finally spoke up sounding like he was going shoot his shot, "You guys here for the-"
"Where's Connie Springer and Jean Kirstein?" Sasha cut him off, eyes scanning the crowd below looking for your two friends. She didn't even bother to look at the group of boys, but you did. And you watched their eyes widen and their bodies sink back into their seats.
Freshman.
"Jean is with Floch." One of them answered.
"Oh, he'll be easy to fucking spot." She laughed. "Thanks!" Another half assed thank you from the girl - and then you were being towed down the stairs, your stomach doing a full on routine with every step down as you got closer to the massive crowd.
It wasn't that you weren't a fan of crowds, crowded places, parties - no - fuck, you loved a good party. It was that you were out of your comfort zone here. This wasn't the frat house which you knew in and out, this wasn't the bars that you frequented way too regularly. This was a foreign venue, you were in outlandish clothes, and this wasn't just an AOT event. It was the sister sororities too.
The boys in AOT either took them as dates, or took their friends, or their girlfriends if they had. Which unfortunately meant that some of the girls dates were guys that you knew, and knew a little bit too well. You hid your face when you saw the ZBT president chatting up a group of girls, feeling like coming to this event was a big mistake.
Where was your confidence? If this was a football house party, or a frat party you would be fine. What the hell was going on with you tonight? Was is the dress? Was it the lack of comfort of your friend group being right next to you? Was it that Jean hadn't spoken you to today, and you were his fucking date?
Dressed up for him. Here for him. His date, his date that he didn't even check up on. You could have bailed on him and the dude would never know.
Where was he? Really, shouldn't he have come to see you by now? You wanted to see him... he probably looked good all dressed up.
You were towed to the far end of the patio, where a pathway extended out to the grassy green that a couple of people were out taking pictures on. Sasha dropped your hand here, whipping out here phone to find one of the boys.
You couldn't help but stare out at them, feeling an unsettling bubble in your stomach as you watched one of the girl's eyes crinkle up as she laughed and stared up at her date. He then moved to wrap his arms around her, a wide smile etched on his face. You then watched as her friend, the girl taking the photos, squealed in delight at the adorable nature of the candid she just took.
All of these people, everyone from different backgrounds and varying places - and yet in the midst of all of it for some reason you felt all alone. Where was Jean? Where was Connie? Why didn't you feel comforted by Sasha....
Sasha, thankfully, interrupted your starting - "You know, I'm searching for Jean and Floch and I cannot seem to find either of them. I feel like if they were outside i'd have noticed them by now since Jean is tall and Floch has the reddest hair i've ever seen without it being a box dye."
You laughed at that, finally pulling your gaze away from the happy friends and looking at your own. "Do you wanna go look for Connie then? Did you text him?"
"Texted and called, but he's not looking at his phone I guess. Some date he is..." She grumbled, bouncing up and down on her heels. "Aright, I've got an idea where that dumbass is at - let's go."
She lead the way, and you followed - hiding your face from everyone you passed. You stared at Sasha's tight ponytail, watching it sway back and forth, the movement calming you down from all of these unneeded anxieties you were feeling.
You never felt like this. You never felt this bad. What was going on in your body and brain today?
A weight had lifted off you shoulders as soon as the name was called from Sasha's mouth - "CONNIE SPRINGER." She yelled out - and you looked up at the direction of where she was yelling to. You moved to the side and sped up just a few paces to match her - and there you saw him.
Connie Springer, in a tight fitting grey suit - no tie and the first few buttons undone with some sunglasses tucked in dipping it down - standing by the double doors that lead into the kitchen. He didn't notice the two of you at first, or hear Sasha's scream, so you and her began to walk quicker to get to him. Connie's only focus was through the circular window though - the boy waiting for someone to come out.
When you finally reached him, Connie still oblivious to the sound of you two approaching, the doors swung open as Sasha began to say his name again and out came a young girl holding a tray of cocktail weenies. He jumped back, in glee, animatedly saying something to her and then his hand reached out to the tray - hovering over to select the perfect one.
"Connie." Sasha sternly spoke his name, a scolding tone this time.
He froze in his tracks, as did the young waitress who was staring up at Connie like he was a madman. His head slowly turned toward the two of you, looking both scared for his life and excited.
The look on his face was not an attractive one.
"Answer your goddamn phone." She scolded him. "We've been looking for you."
He blinked at her, a dumb look on his face - then instead of responding he swiped a few weenies off the plate and stuffed them into his mouth. Mouth full of food that was barley chewed he responded - "Sorry."
The young waitress took that as her cue to scamper away.
You couldn't help but laugh at the scene in front of you, clutching your stomach as the stupid interaction between your two friends made you feel so much better. Honestly, just seeing Connie made you feel better - the boy always made you feel comfortable no matter what.
He swallowed his mouthful of food, and then smiled at the two of you. "You guys look fukin' fine - we gotta take some pics." He looked you up and down, letting out a slow wolf whistle as he shook his head back and forth - a toothy grin splayed on his face. "So when did you pull up?"
"Just now."
"Just now? It started almost an hour ago." He looked down at his wrist, where a nice chunky looking silver watch decorated it.
"I called you."
"We forgot to get a ride."
You and Sasha both responded to him a the same time. He looked back and forth between the two of you, head cocking slightly to the side as his brain processed both of your statements.
"Oh." His face displayed a look of realization. "You called me because you needed a ride didn't you."
"Yep." Sasha popped her p. You nodded along.
"Shit." And then Connie threw his head back and laughed - his usual cackle that always put a smile on your face. "Damn I was so drunk when I picked up that call, I'm drunk now but you got me right after I ripped a few shots with Thomas. Totally tanked."
"Yeah I know." Sasha scoffed, but there was now amusement in her tone. "You picked up screaming, then said you wished we were there but we weren't invited and then hung up on me." She laughed getting the story out.
"Oh, no need to recap I remember what I said. I don't black out when I drink, I'm not like that one." Connie pointed a finger up at you, a grin on his face that met his eyes.
You rolled yours.
"It's very fitting for the two of you to forget to get a ride, who ended up driving ya's here?"
You answered this one. "Ymir..."
"Yikes..."
"Yeah."
Silence followed that, an awkward one due to the known nature of the freckled brunette. You know the one where if she does something for you, she's going to be mad. Plus the fact that you now owe her - big time too.
"Well." Sasha placed both hands on her hips, her fists balled up as she stood as a power stance. "We made it here, no thanks to you or Jean and now it is time to milk this venue for all they got."
For the next 15 minutes or so the three of you remained in that spot, waiting for the servers to come out from the kitchen with their trays of appetizers. The three of you had first selection for each one that came out, so you stuffed yourselves with a variety of different options. Cocktail weenies, sushi, mini quiches, super tiny sliders, and last but not least the orgasmic delicacy that is a bacon wrapped date.
Sasha was right, the mouth taste was better than sex.
Finally to conclude your lurking, Connie had the brilliant idea to find the most nerdy looking waiter on the staff and corner them - which he did. The boy came out of the kitchen holding a tray of cocktail weenies, and Connie set his fucked up plan in action. The doors swung wide open and he was right next to him, inches away and towering above him.
You and Sasha watched, perturbed, as the young kid cowered in fear of your buzzcut best friend.
"If I give you a 10, can you just give me that tray?" In Connies hand was a rolled up $10 bill.
And then the boy did it no question, shoving the tray into Connies side. It happened so fast, the tray was cradled by your friend and the money was ripped out of his hands. As fast as the young boy came out of the doors, he went back in.
Connie turned around, tray in hand, looking like he just won first prize in some activity. And you know what, a tray full of cocktail weenies might just be the prize most worthy for him.
"Score!"
You ate only a few more, not wanting to fill up before you got to the dinner part of the night - just on the look of the place you knew it would be one of the best things you ever ate. But even with you putting a dent into the tray of the 30 or so mini hot dogs - Sasha and Connie still were able to clear the silver platter within minutes.
Both belched and then you left the plate behind, heading over to the bar on the patio where you would consume your first fancy cocktail of the night.
Sasha and you both ordered vodka cran's, and for some reason Connie chose to order an apple martini. So while you and her sipped on your tall glasses of a college woman's one true love, Connie Springer sipped with pinkies up out of a wonky shaped glass - truly living his best life.
The three of you wandered over to where you saw the group of people taking photos earlier, chatting amongst yourselves about silly little things. The only interruptions were people saying hi to Connie, the normal shout of anything but his real name.
You found yourselves by a little pond a bit father away from where the rest of everyone was taking photos. Due to the season, the sun was starting to slowly set in the distance. So to the west of you was the beginnings of a beautiful sunset - orange, yellow, and pink tones filled the sky and the clouds puffed out and swallowed the colors up blending them together like a oil painting on a canvas.
It was the perfect backdrop to take photos with your friends. But one was missing, an important one at that.
Sasha was recording Connie doing something when you finally brought that up, cutting into their fun to ask "Hey Connie, where's Jean?" The two of them stopped to look at you, their smiles fading. "It's just I haven't seen him all day." You added for some reason, unsure why you couldn't just leave it at that.
"No need to explain why you're asking." Connie let out a sigh, "I mean he is your date."
"Some date he's being." Sasha scoffed.
Then the two of them shared a look that you didn't bother call out. But it was a look that you didn't quite like. Not one bit.
"So you know how venues like this host weddings?" Connie began. You stated at him, scared where this was going. Please don't say Jean and Floch got married. "There's like a bridal suite attached to most of the rooms and Jean and Floch have been there since we all go here."
"...Are they?" Sasha eyed him, also following your train of thought.
"No!" Connie's hands went up. "God no! They're not fucking I swear! We just host an award ceremony tonight during dinner, it's a presentation that just recaps all the charity work we did this year and then the president gives out silly awards to people that have docked the most service hours. Floch coerced Jean into helping him out, and since Jean is surprisingly bad at saying no the two have been working together for the past few days to perfect it."
"Oh." Your tone was blank. It would have been nice if Jean had let you know what was going on.
Connie frowned. "Did he not say anything to you about it?"
You shook your head. You and Jean had talked, but he didn't share that part with you.
"I-" He went to speak, but stopped. "I can't apologize on his behalf, but I will say that it's been a major stressor in his life that Floch just dragged him into. Not that that's an excuse for being a shitty date."
"It's fine." You quickly came to defend the matter. Rather not make a mountain out of a molehill. "I'm his date, he paid for this so he can do whatever he wants. At the end of the day, I'm eating and drinking for free."
"Atta girl!" Sasha cheered, raising her glass in the air. "Fuck Jean!"
"Yeah, Fuck him!" Connie cheered with her as well, then tipped his glass to you - "quite literal-"
"Don't tell me you two have another bet going tonight." You cut him off.
And then the two shared another look, both of them with devilish smirks plastered on their faces. "Something of the sorts."
"I-" You started, the usual words of I hate you both wanting to spill out. But for some reason you didn't want to say that. So you held the words back. Feeling like if you kept saying you hated them, you very well might. Although, you could never really hate Connie - but Sasha... lately, just a tad.
"Enough about Jean, he's missing out on all this fun right now." Sasha leaned forward, placing her empty glass on a manmade stone ledge that wrapped around the pond. "It's photo time, Connie take one of me and her posing like we're one another's prom dates."
"Aye aye captain."
~ A/N
cue the jojos riff bc this ain't the endddddd of this part
Next part is Jean POV :)
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