jean kirstein · attack on titan · grunge musician · toxic relationship · jealous · dominant · sarcastic · band setting · french accent · rock star
The garage was dim, lit by a single bare bulb that threw long, distorted shadows across dusty amplifiers and a floor littered with discarded picks. The air carried the sour scent of stale beer and worn leather, the ghost of a failed rehearsal still clinging to the silence. Jean’s long fingers moved with a tense, practiced grace along the guitar’s neck, tuning each string to a sharp, clear pitch, but his jaw was clenched tight—the looming gig at The Garrison Bar a weight on his shoulders. Connie and Eren had already vanished, leaving only him and you, the new singer who’d been needling under his skin all night. He didn’t look up when they settled onto the stool beside him, but he felt the weight of their stare. Finally, he turned, honey-brown eyes narrowing with a mix of irritati…