Berik.

"That’s not too far from where I live," Marco said, grabbing his keys. He held his phone to his ear as left his apartment, locking it up. "I’ll be right over. And thanks so much for keeping him grounded for the time being. I’m glad he’s behaved himself." Marco grabbed the cat crate by the door and began walking down the street to the stranger’s address.

A lot of the worry and stress that was on Marco’s mind was soon dissolved. Granted, he still had the struggle of lugging Sparta all the way back home. Maybe the excitement would give the poor cat a heart attack. Marco didn’t know, and the possibilities of that were slim, so he tried not to think of the worst things that could happen.

Chuckling again, he pointed to the fridge. “There’s tuna casserole in there for you to devour. I know how you love the tuna.” He teased him again. That’s what they did when they were together, tease and laugh. It was always one thing that made him happy to hang around Berik when they were younger, it was so much fun. Not that he didn’t like hanging out with the other’s. He loved all his friends and Berik, Reiner and him had some crazy times as children.

Berik scrunched up his nose at the mention. "You mean glorified cat food? Egh, no thanks Berthl. You can have all that tuna casserole to yourself." He laughed as he made a disgusted face. Berik couldn't believe people ate that stuff...and liked it. It was so gross and unnatural to stuff some fish chunks into a little can with some nasty smelling water. He wouldn't have eaten it even if Bertholdt had paid him. 

"I don’t like to physically writing things down. It kills my vibe. So I use this. I record everything, all the mess ups because I don’t want to lose anything." she turned the laptop a little his way. She picked up Buddha and strummed a few things.

"Berik, please eat." it was less graceful than intended but she pointed toward her fridge and grabbed another slice of pizza. She left the kitchen to him while she settled on the couch and picked up Buddha. She strummed a few chords, then went to plucking.

Berik stood dumbly in the kitchen for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or where to go. Was he suppose to join Ymir in the living room or was he doomed to the kitchen until he ate something? Berik didn't care what she wanted him to do-he walked over and sat on the couch as Ymir left to get something. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched it on to check the messages. The inbox was empty; not that big of a shock. It seemed like all of his friends always had something to do. He shoved his phone back into his pocket as Ymir walked back over with a laptop and a microphone in her hand. 

Unlikely scenario, but scary none the less.

Marco’s next approach to finding Sparta was to switch from searching the neighborhood to putting up posters. He knew someone had to have come across him and recognize him. There weren’t many grey tabbies in the area as massive as Sparta, after all. He had a strong belief that he’d eventually be contacted by someone confusing Sparta as a possum going through their trash.

What Marco did not anticipate was that he’d be contacted so soon. When he answered the phone and heard the voice on the other side, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then, smiled and replied.

When he first heard the person respond, they sounded overwhelmed and tense, as if they were worrying about something important-probably the lost animal. The cat, Sparta as the poster had said, seemed to be very well equipped for indoor life. It looked nothing like any of the alley cats that hunted around the garbage cans near Berik's apartment. All those cats were mangy and half starved. 

"Why don’t we write a song Berik," she said taking a bite. "I think these might help." She tipped the bottle up.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to stay, or if he should. Then again, his roommate was having movie night with his girlfriend and Berik really didn't want to be the loser sitting on the couch next to them. Suddenly, staying at Ymir's, getting drunk and writing some music didn't seem half bad. 

Stepping into the entrance of the Wall Rose Music Store, Mikasa stared at the rows of instruments that greeted her, like old friends. Wanting to examine the store piece by piece, she decided to start with the string instruments. The guitars caught her attention, and she walked towards them to look properly at the different guitar brands. She stared at a red guitar which she managed to identify as a Gibson, a popular Les Paul at that. With a gentle finger, she delicately plucked one of the strings, pleased at the tuned sound that it produced.

She had never played guitar before - she was too devoted to her piano- but she did think that the instrument was a very beautiful thing to play, and she did love listening to Eren’s base guitar.

Whenever he went to the store, Berik usually spent much more time there than he'd care to admit, but they always had something new that he was dying to try out. This time his attention was focused on a 1923 Gibson Style O Artist that the owner had just won in an auction. It was the most beautiful guitar he had ever seen and had been searching for one ever since he was 16. Now he had one in his grasp and the only problem was the $7,000 price tag. Since he knew the owner on a first name basis and had spent many summers sweeping the floors of the music shop in order to pay for strings and other various things, Berik had been able to negotiate down from the original asking price of $7,500, but he still didn't have the money.

While he was waiting for his strings, he began to pace around the store, looking at all the other instruments they had for sale. The room was empty, except for a girl who was standing only a few feet away from him, who was focused on the guitar in front of her.

"Ah its fine, I just have to be clear on somethings," she said. He mentioned his band but what caught her attention was that they played at Attack on Bands. It brought a small chuckle to the back of her throat but she let him finish what he and to say and accepted his number.

"Oh I know. Sometimes I even see people bring their grandmothers to the metal concerts. It's hilarious." He was over exaggerating, but there were a lot of parents who came in with their children. "Well, I'm glad I could help. Just don't you dare steal my song or I will become the Repo! man." Berik stood up and followed Ymir to the kitchen, watching as she went into the fridge to get something. 

Berik raised an eyebrow as he took the bottle from Ymir. He wasn't sure how old she was, but assumed she was still under the drinking age. He had always been a hypocrite about things like that; Berik always told Reiner and Bertholdt not to drink or do drugs, yet he was already the worst offender. Then again, he didn't know Ymir as well as his best friends, so it wasn't even his place to to say anything.

This was probably one of her favorite things to do, just sit and enjoy the relaxing sound of the suburbs.  These boys here playing soccer must be enjoying themselves.  Pushing the sounds of the city on the back burner of her mind, Historia inhaled sharply and pried the book open, getting lost within the words.

She heard one of the soccer players calling out to someone but hadn’t really payed enough attention…it probably wasn’t to her so she ignored it.  She weaved her fingers through her hair creating a loose braid and fastened it at the end with a small hair tie. Or.  It would have been fastened but a loud thud stopped her in her tracks and a loud — ahem, embarrassing — squeal escaped her lips.  Looking around, she concluded it was this here soccer ball that had nearly hit her. 

Historia’s heart rate returned to normal once she realized that this thing wasn’t a threat and she smiled at the one player who’d come up to her. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets, becoming nervous as he stood in front of the girl. "Do you, by any chance, know a guy by the name of Reiner? He's tall, pretty muscular, blond?" Berik swallowed hard, waiting for the girl's response. He was pretty sure the answer was going to be yes, otherwise, he was going to look like a complete nut-job who was harassing a sweet innocent girl sitting on a bench. 

Berik was in a band, she figured so. Although it made her a little anxious that he didn’t contribute lyrically but also she was curious as to what the band must have sounded like. Maybe they play at AoB.

"Our band is sorta in the beginning stages, but we've got a try out at this cool place called Attack on Bands so maybe one day you can come see us." Berik wanted to ask if Ymir would like to play to with them, but he wasn't sure how his bandmates would react-he's have to ask first. 

He wanted to say something but instead, he decided that heading over and talking would be simpler. He started heading out, he walked quietly and sternly towards his friend’s home. He didn’t mind the water pouring on him and instead he stayed focused on his goal. He stood behind the the door for a bit before he knocked.

Reiner stared at the man for a few moments before nervously scratching his forearm, “No?” he attempted to answer, looking down, “Me?” he tried again. What WAS wrong was indeed a very good question. He felt like he was eight years old standing in front of his big brother after doing something wrong. He looked like it too.

He guided his friend over to the couch and made him sit down.  "Nothing is wrong with you, Rein. Things get fucked up but it's not you.  You're a great guy." Berik sat down next to him, unsure of how to approach the situation at hand. He wanted to wrap his arm around his friend's shoulders and tell Reiner that whatever he wanted to say  wouldn't make him angry; that everything was going to be okay. But he didn't- he couldn't take the risk of making his friend shy away. 

When he heard Reiner stutter out what he wanted to say, Berik sat in silence for a few seconds before he figured out what he wanted to tell his friend. "No one said you had to," Berik said quietly as he placed a hand on his friend's back. He was glad that Reiner had finally said something to him instead of trying to conceal his emotions and put on a facade.