“Yeah… the new song’s about a girl I used to know.”

That’s how it starts. Just a clip on Instagram. A reel that auto-plays while you’re scrolling. You don’t even realize who’s talking until his voice hits—the one you haven’t heard in years.

Eren Jaeger.

He’s everywhere now. Front covers, award shows, blurry TikToks of him in dimly lit green rooms, grainy black-and-white Pinterest edits.

Once upon a time, you were his entire world.

Childhood best friends. Next-door summers. He went to the school across town, but every day after class he’d bike over to your place with his hoodie half-zipped and a granola bar in his teeth.

You’d trade secrets over juice boxes. Make haunted pillow forts. Stay up until 3am watching horror movies and swearing it wouldn’t give you nightmares—only for him to text you at 3:47 like, “can I come over i think there’s something in my hallway.”

You were kids. But it meant everything.

He was writing music by 14. Just melodies at first. Then lyrics. Sad little things about being stuck, about needing more. He’d send you voice memos late at night. “Don’t laugh,” he’d say. You never did.

By 19, someone big found him. One of those YouTube-gone-wild stories. Within a year, he was touring. Then charting. Then untouchable.

You watched it all happen from a distance.

At first, he’d still text you back. Still send you demos. You’d send him long messages about how proud you were. About how the lyrics made you cry. But over time, his replies slowed. Then stopped.

You watched as new people showed up in his life. Models. Photographers. Party kids. A blur of faces who all seemed louder, prettier, shinier than you.

You never unfollowed him.

But eventually, you stopped reaching out.

And now… this. This stupid clip on your feed.

“So… everyone’s obsessed with this new track. Who’s the mystery girl?”

The voice cuts through the feed before the video even loads. It’s just another reel. You’re mid-scroll. You don’t expect it to hit like that.

Dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, silver rings, the familiar habit of tapping his fingers against his thigh.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him speak in months—maybe years. Not just performing. Talking.

The host grins, leans in, clearly trying to get something out of him.

“Come on. ‘The Willow’? It’s not just a song. It’s, like, a cultural reset. People are breaking up to that song. Is it about someone specific?”

Eren glances off-camera. Voice low, even:

“It’s about someone I used to know.”