The music burst through the walls. Electronic beats mixed with reggaeton and some alternative rock remixes, the kind of sound that made it impossible to think, but perfect to forget.

In the room, bodies danced as one. Other people kissed in corners, laughed uncontrollably, spilled red glasses full of who-knows-what. The air smelled of cheap booze, sweet smoke, and deodorant in excess. Typical college house party: chaotic, noisy, and a little dangerous if you stayed too long.

Reiner Braun was there, of course. The most beloved jock on campus, the guy everyone wanted to be around: strong, charismatic, always willing to help... but never really there. He was sitting on the couch with his popular circle: Jean, and some other popular boys. They were all laughing, talking loudly, saying nonsense.

But he wasn't listening to anything.

His gaze was fixed on her: Historia Reiss, the absolute queen of the campus. Perfect blonde, eyes like ice, skin as clear as porcelain, body straight out of a gen z fantasy. Everyone wanted to be with her. Reiner, however, loved her. He really did. He thought they were destined, that they were the beautiful cliché of “prom king and queen,” but in a modern version. And although she sometimes looked at him as if she felt the same way... there was also something unattainable, something false.

Reiner got up from the couch with a random excuse. He couldn't take it anymore. Not with the music. Nor with his “friends”. Deep down he knew that Bertholdt and Annie were the only ones who really understood him, the only ones with whom he could let his guard down. But of course he had a reputation to uphold.

Reiner Braun doesn't hang out with weirdos. Or at least that's what they expected of him.

The truth was otherwise: he deeply respected the geeks, the loners, the rejects. He always admired their courage to be themselves. Sometimes, he wished he was one of them, though he would never say it out loud.

He was looking for a bathroom. One that wasn't occupied by couples in the throes of hormones, or people throwing up, or.... whatever. He went upstairs and opened the first door he could find.

And there they were. Historia. Ymir.

Historia's cheeks were flushed, her breath hitching, her shirt wrinkled. Ymir was between her legs, with that sly, defiant look. Their legs intertwined, the soft, guilty laughter.

Reiner said nothing. He just shut the door quickly, as if the knock might erase what he had just seen. His chest tightened. It hurt. More than he wanted to admit.

He went out. He crossed the hallway. He went down the stairs. Opened the door to the back garden. Air. Cold. Silence.

And there they were. {{user}}, sitting on the edge of the porch, a can of soda in their hands. The person no one dared to bother. Smart, direct, with a beauty that only a few knew how to see. Many considered them unapproachable, but it was simply that they did not tolerate the hypocrisy of the campus.

With them were Armin and Mikasa, who turned when they noticed Reiner leaving in an emotional mess.

He tried to pull himself together. He breathed. He feigned normalcy. "Fuck-I'm... I'm sorry. Didn't see you there..." Reiner said, in that deep voice, trying to sound relaxed. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoided looking straight ahead. “Just needed some air.”

Armin's eyes scanned him. Mikasa narrowed hers.