Chapter Text
Hair. Make-up. Perform. Repeat. That’s what Levi’s life fizzled down to these days when he was out on tour.
But he loved every bit of it, and wouldn’t trade the lifestyle for anything in the world. He had found his niche and was very content in staying with it. It also might have helped that he was Levi Ackerman – a superstar in his own right, and of his own making.
It hadn’t been easy. The many phone calls made to various producers had proved to be tiresome and fruitless. No one was brave enough to take on this sweet boy from the suburbs. They all wanted someone new, someone edgy – or someone not Levi.
So he gave them what they wanted, and four years later he’s selling out seats at Madison Square Garden and appearing on every magazine known in the United States – his manager told him he was also appearing in Australia, Japan and everywhere else that possessed a magazine outlet.
Making the change from ‘Levi’ to ‘Levi Ackerman’ was a choice that stunned everyone – his family included. Their motto throughout Levi’s childhood was “stay true to yourself and don’t let anyone change who you are.”
In Levi’s defence, no one wants you unless you are willing to adapt to meet a certain target audience criteria – so that’s what he did.
Gone were the button up shirts, dress pants, penny loafers and glasses he wore around the city. They were now replaced with leather, ripped jeans, eyeliner, studs and hair gel. He was the next hot topic, and everyone knew his name.
God, did he love it.
“Hange?! Where are my jeans?!”
“Where you left them?” Hange rolled their eyes as they munched on a bagel, reading the latest issue of Vogue. That’s where they got the grey and black pinstripe playsuit they were currently wearing. It cost a pretty penny, but God, was it worth it.
“They aren’t there! We’re running late and they aren’t there!” Levi could be heard scratching through the drawers in his bedroom, searching for his beloved denim ripped jeans. He wore them everywhere when he wasn’t performing – sometimes when he was performing.
“Try the laundry basket?” Hange suggested.
“I’ll go check! They better be in there or I’ll…” His voice faded off as he went to the back of the penthouse to find the damned jeans.
Hange raised a hand to their mouth to stifle a laugh. Where would Levi be without their helping hand? Probably busking on the street or working at Wendy’s, still in those penny loafers. The thought made them laugh harder. Could you imagine Mr. Eyeliner and Ripped Jeans working at Wendy’s? That was like putting Beyoncé in a school cafeteria – it just didn’t look right.
“Ha! Found them!” Levi called.
“I told you they’d be in there.”
There was a faint sound of fabric sliding, and Levi emerged a few seconds later. “I swear to God, though. If I couldn’t find them, then I would have gone naked.” Levi said, tousling his hair with hair gel.
“Don’t be such a Drama Queen. Although, the interviewer might like that.” They winked. “Snap a pic or two for the press.”
“Ha! They wish.” Levi scoffed.
“Probably, but don’t they all?”
“Most of them.” Levi concurred.
“Anyway, we were meant to leave ten minutes ago, but thanks to your little jeans fiasco, we’ll be late.” Hange scolded, their glasses falling slightly as they frowned. Damn, did Hange run a tight ship.
“Just call them up and say we’ll be late, no big deal.” Levi waved them off with his hand.
Hange’s eyes widened.
“No big deal? Do you know how much of a tight schedule we’re on?”
“Not as tight as your asshole, it seems.” Levi muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” He whistled, innocently.
Hange sighed. “Fine, I’ll call them up, but you have to explain why we’re late when we get there.”
“Deal. Now where did I put my sunglasses..?” Levi trailed off as he went back into his room.
“LEVI. WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS.”
Adamant to keeping to schedule, Hange had pushed Levi out of the door not three minutes after he had found his sunglasses. They almost choked Levi as they pulled him into the limousine, but it wasn’t anything new.
Levi sat by the window, rubbing his neck.“Thanks. That’s going to leave a mark.” He muttered.
Hange choked back a snort.
“Just play it off as a rough night of sex.”
Levi’s head whipped around to meet Hange’s eyes and winked.
You’re a little late to use that excuse, Hang.
During his first year of stardom, Levi went…. How they say…. ‘off the deep end’. This included late night parties, alcohol out the wazoo, and every drug under the sun. Levi also partook in the pleasures of life, having women – and sometimes men – to warm his bed.
“Like the press need any more reason for rumours.” He chuckled.
“Touché.”
“I swear though, they’ll use anything and everything to fabricate a story. Remember Kate?” Levi leaned his head back on the headrest.
Hange grinned.“Yes, I remember Kate.”
Kate had been a fan of Levi’s – an extremely devoted one at that. Levi had been in her city for a show once upon a time. A little while later, she had come forward saying that Levi was the father of her baby girl, Makenna. That was a load of shit considering he had never met the woman and the baby looked nothing like him. Nevertheless, the press went into a frenzy, which caused Levi to deal with the matter himself. DNA tests, paternity tests, lie detector tests – the whole nine yards. They had found no relation between himself and the child.
Kate quickly disappeared after that.
“What did you say the interviewer’s name was?” Levi asked.
“I don’t actually know. It was definitely male, though.”
Levi nodded. It was probably some middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a beady-eyed stare that probed you for any information that you might not have said. He’d experienced his fair share of those.
“What’s the magazine called?” He asked again, bored.
“It’s one of the newer ones – Shiganshina, I think it’s called.”
What a weird name.
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s run by a young woman by the name of Mikasa Ackerman. No relation to you, of course.” Hange flicked his ear. Levi flipped them off.
“That name sounds familiar.” He said.
“I believe you talked to her at the Grammy’s last year.”
Vaguely remember that, but okay.
“Anything else I should know?” Flipping through his phone, he glanced up at Hange.
“Your eyeliner is smudged.”
Levi reached up to his eye instinctively, whipping out a compact that he kept handy. “You liar.” He hissed.
Hange grinned, fixing their shirt. “We’re here.”
Thank fucking Jesus.
“That took longer than I thought.”
“I told you so, plus we’re running late. Get your ass through that front door as soon as possible, please.” She added the ‘please’ for sarcasm.
Levi saluted Hange with a smirk. “Aye aye, Captain.”
The door to the limousine opened, and Levi quickly slipped on his shades, exiting the car.
“Levi!”
“Levi! Over here!”
“Levi! Oh my God! I love you!”
“Levi please sign this!”
“Levi! Please sign my chest!” A girl screeched.
He had to snicker internally at that one. Making his way to the gate, he signed as many autographs as he could, and took a photo with a few of the screaming girls (and the boys too). They attempted to make conversation, but Hange hurried Levi along.
“WE LOVE YOU!”
Levi removed his sunglasses and winked at the crowd, sending screams across the entirety of the gate.
Yeah. He was hot stuff and he knew it. Everyone is allowed to be a little vain.
Levi was almost choked by Hange again as they tried to pull him through the door.
“Your interview.” They reminded him.
Oh, right.
He nodded, placing his sunglasses into the pocket of his ripped jeans and looked around the vicinity of the magazine HQ. Damn, it was clean.
The chairs were all colour-ordinated and everything was a pristine white. Levi kind of wanted to mess it up a bit, just for the Hell of it.
“Mr. Ackerman.” A voice called.
Levi’s head turned, and he was met with the face of a young Asian woman dressed in a black pencil skirt and white blouse – she even had a red scarf around her neck, which oddly complimented the look.
“Ms. Ackerman.” Levi replied, finally remembering Mikasa’s face. She had grown into her facial features a little more since the last time he had seen her.
“Nice to meet you again.” She extended her hand. Levi shook it with a small smile.
“The same to you.”
“I’d love to have more of a chat, but your interview is running significantly late, and time is money.” Mikasa checked her watch.
“And money is time.” Levi finished for her.
Mikasa’s face lit up with a hint of surprise, before she composed it back into her usual mask of blasé. “Indeed.”
Levi chuckled.
“Where do I need to go?” He asked, looking around.
“Armin will take you up to the thirteenth floor. That’s where we interview our guests.”
As if on cue, a short blonde man appeared with a clipboard and a pencil tucked behind his ear. Levi quite liked his hair, actually. It reminded him of a coconut – but he’d never admit that.
“We need to get going. This interview was meant to start twenty minutes ago.” He said, walking to the elevator and pressing the button that would take them to the designated floor. “We don’t have all day.”
Geez. Even more time-orientated than Hange.
Levi walked over to the elevator, Hange in tow. They both stepped in and stood beside a very impatient Armin, who was tapping his foot.
Ever heard of a laxative, kid? Geez. Take one and you’ll feel much better.
The doors closed and they were soon moving up. Levi noticed a panel of reflective glass, and he used the opportunity to fix his hair. He had to look presentable, after all.
A soft ding indicated that they had reached their floor. Armin quickly rushed out and down the hall, presumably to tell the interviewer that they were here.
“Do you think he’s got something up his ass to be that unchill?” Levi whispered.
“We can’t all live your life, Levi. Some of us need to work jobs in order to pay bills. It’s very stressful when something doesn’t go to plan.” Hange reprimanded him.
Reprimanded. Ha. He was twenty-five. He didn’t need to be reprimanded.
Levi shrugged and continued walking down the hall. He saw a flash of yellow, and he knew that was where Armin was waiting for them.
As he reached the door, Hange pulled him to the side and gave him one final look over.
“All good. Now remember: kind, courteous and genuine.”
“I’m going to have to pick one. I can’t do all three.” Levi smirked.
“Just get in there, and apologise, will you?” Hange sighed, pushing him to the door.
Levi gave them a thumbs up and walked into the interview room, the door shutting behind him.
“Sorry I’m late, I was looking for my jeans and I lost track of ti--”
Levi’s mind stopped dead in its tracks.
The first thing Levi saw was legs. Oh ho ho, did they go on for miles. The jeans on those legs looked sinfully tight, and they followed every contour of their wearer’s lower half. The jeans were complimented with a button-down shirt – an odd combination, but it worked. The next thing Levi saw was skin – sun-kissed skin.
The correct term, his brain instantly supplied, is completely breathtaking.
He could make a million and one jokes about that, but his tongue suddenly felt entirely glued to the roof of his mouth.
The next thing Levi saw was chocolate-colored hair. It looked a little messy, like he had been running his hands through it – or someone else had.
No, Levi did not think about sex hair. He did not… yes, he did.
The last thing Levi saw was eyes. Big, round, expressive, ocean-colored eyes that looked like absolute jewels. They caught Levi’s dark gaze and didn't let go, sending a strange, heavy ache blooming straight through the center of Levi's chest - an instant, hopeless kind of pull he hadn't felt for anyone, ever.
“That’s okay. We all get side-tracked,” a smooth, resonant voice said, carrying a hint of amusement that made Levi's stomach do a violent, traitorous flip. “My name is Eren Jaeger, and I’ll be your interviewer.”
Fuck me, Levi thought, panic and a dangerous, breathless fascination warring fiercely in his chest. He hadn't even sat down yet, and he already knew he was in deep, irreparable trouble.