Chapter Text
Eren warms up before hitting start broadcast.. not because he has to, but because he likes the ritual.
Low hums at first, chest voice settling in easy and relaxed. Then he climbs. Falsetto, head voice, mixed- testing the ceiling just to remind himself it's still there. It always is. High notes don't scare him, never have. His throat has always felt like an open road; if he can hear the note in his head, his body knows how to get there.
People online like to argue about it.
'He's straining'
'That's studio magic'
'No one hits notes like that live'
He does. Every time.
He grins at the camera once he's done warming up, hair loose today, falling wherever it wants. He knows what he looks like. He also knows it doesn't matter as much as people think. Confidence isn't about showing off, it's about not shrinking.
"Hey." He says as he leans closer to the camera, voice easy. "Day one of the thirty-day cover challenge. You guys picked the songs. Mikasa and I are just... suffering artistically for your entertainment."
The comments are already flying up the side of the screen, he skims them out of habit.
He laughed, "Yeah, I see you."
This whole thing was Mikasa's idea.. well, half hers. They were on a call last week, her sitting cross-legged on her bed with a guitar, Eren sprawled out on his studio floor staring at the ceiling when she said, "What if we let them decide everything for a month? Songs, keys, styles. No repeats. No excuses."
Mikasa thrives on structure. Challenges make sense to her. He just liked seeing what happens when he jumped without checking the landing.
Their channels have been back and forth between each other when it came to who had more subscribers. Her channel was more clean vocals, controlled runs, emotion so precise it almost hurts. People like to pit them against each other. Sibling rivalry, power duo. Who's better?
They don't get it.
Mikasa's his anchor, always has been. No tension. No competition. Just trust.
The door to his studio opened without any knocks.
"Your mic gain is too high," Mikasa spoke, walking in like she owned the place. "You're peaking on the highs."
Eren lowers it without arguing, she was right.
"You ready?" Eren asked.
She nodded. "This is going to be a brutal month."
"Good. Means they're paying attention."
They both record separately today, same song, different interpretations, Eren goes first.
'The Death of Peace of Mind' hits sultry, deceptively simple. His voice, a register that feels like silk dragged over concrete, let it linger there longer than expected. Higher notes came later, sudden and clean, flipping up like it's nothing. He doesn't push, he never does. He just opens his mouth, and lets the sound go where it wants.
When he finishes the room is quiet.
Mikasa exhales slowly. "You're annoying."
Eren grins. "You love me." She flips him off affectionately, and steps into frame for her take.
The broadcast ended, it's processed and converted into a regular video, and uploaded before midnight. By morning, comments are feral.
It was a usual routine, live stream, convert/process, and upload for the next few days.
By day five, Eren finds that someone tagged him in a lifestyle video, and at first he didn't click it. He was used to being tagged in edits, duets, and reaction clips. But this one kept showing up by different usernames, same thumbnail. When he clicked on it the background music is familiar, his cover. He paused for a moment. The person on screen moved with precision. It's measured, elegant, and completely uninterested in performing for anyone. He spoke softly but doesn't soften himself. Feminine yes, but sharp around the edges. Controlled. Intentional.
Levi Ackerman, the channel name reads.
Eren watched the video in it's entirety without realizing it. There was something about the way he exists. Like he's carved out a space that no one else gets to touch unless he allows it. Eren scrolled through the comments, people were being normal. Respectful. A miracle.
At the end of the video, the music fades, and Eren realized that his heart was beating faster than it should be. Without thinking too hard about it, he left a comment.
'Interesting choice using the bridge instead of the chorus. It fits your pacing better."
He honestly didn't expect anything back, but an hour later his phone buzzed.
Levi Ackerman liked your comment.
Levi Ackerman replied: 'That's the point.'
Eren stared at the words he read on his phone, smile spreading... slow and genuine.
Thirty days is a long time.
And something told him this challenge just got a lot more interesting.
He didn't reply right way. Not because he was playing games, he just knew when to sit with something. Levi's reply was short, precise, exactly like his video. No emojis, no filler, just intent.
'That's the point.' Yeah, he figured.
He typed something back, deleted it.. typed something again.
'It shows. You've got a really strong sense of pacing.' He quickly hit send before he could overthink, then set his phone down to start working on tomorrow's song. Not a broadcast, just a recording.
'Wrong' by Chris Grey. It was a tricky one. Not range-wise.. that part was easy. But emotionally. The song lives in tension between restraint and release, and he liked to respect that.
He lowered the key half a step, just enough to give the chorus more weight before he took it up an octave at the end.
When he finally checked his phone again there was a DM request.
Levi Ackerman.
Eren quickly opened it.
'You're not wrong about the bridge. Most people miss why it works.'
The brunette walked over to his desk, and sat for a moment smiling to himself.
'Most people don't listen past the hook.'
Three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.
'You listen too much for an Alpha.'
Eren laughed heartedly.
'Occupational hazard. Comes with being raised by instruments instead of people.'
There was a pause, it took some time for the next response, but Eren waited.
'You're doing Chris Grey tomorrow, right?'
He blinked, confused.
'How'd you know?'
'Your subscribers won't stop tagging you. Also, you tend to lean darker on day 6 of challenges.'
He stared at the screen for a second. Levi's been watching?
'You've been watching?'
'Obviously.'
There was no embarrassment, no apology.. just fact. And Eren liked that.
Mikasa watched Eren pace about his studio later that night with her arms crossed, unimpressed. "You've been smiling at your phone," she said flatly. "That's new."
"I smile all the time."
"No, you grin all the time. This is different."
Eren didn't bother denying it. There was no point. Mikasa's always been able to read him like sheet music.
"... It's Levi," he started. "The lifestyle channel guy."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Goth Omega?"
"Feminine goth." He corrected automatically.
She hummed. "You sound invested."
"I'm curious," Eren said. "He's sharp. Doesn't talk down to me, doesn't talk up to me either."
Mikasa puffed out a breath. "That's your weakness, you like being met at eye level."
She wasn't wrong. They finished recording Wrong, separate videos, same song, different interpretations. Mikasa's version was restrained, aching. While Eren's built slow, then exploded in the final chorus when he let his voice climb until it's ringing clean and high. No strain, no apology. He didn't miss a single note.
And when tomorrow came it was uploaded.
The response was immediate. People arguing about his range, people arguing about who won, people requesting the next song like it was a demand instead of a suggestion.
And with that, Levi messaged him an hour later.
'The way you flipped into head voice at the end.. you didn't soften it. You aimed it.'
He noticed, Eren grinned.
'You're doing Love Rehab next, correct?'
'With Mikasa, yes.'
'Don't change the key.'
Eren pursed his lips.
'You don't even know what key I'm doing.'
'Don't change the key.'
Eren laughed, warmth curling in his chest. He typed out a reply.
'That confident, huh?'
'No. That trusting.'
Something settled in him. He never got angry easily, never territorial without reason. But now there was an instinct toward this Omega who trusts selectively. Eren knew that if anyone tried to dull Levi's edge, tried to box him in, tried to speak over him.. that's when they'll meet the part of him he never shows the internet.
For now, he set his phone down to start practicing his next song.
Thirty days.
Plenty of time to see where this goes.