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“Luce, I’m not so sure I can do this anymore.” You looked to the redhead next to you, shrugging your rehearsal bag further onto your shoulder.

“You said that last year.”

“Well last year I didn’t have to dance with him.”

Lucy opened the school door, a heavy sigh escaping her. “He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“Correction: he’s not that bad to you.” You swung open your locker door, wrestling your duffle bag into it. “You guys are friends we are…”

“Two people with intense sexual tension.” Lucy interrupted as you trailed off. A quick smack to her thigh was received.

“Not every rivalry has sexual tension.”

“No, but yours does.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Why is Lucy shutting up?” You looked up to see Norrie wrapping her arm around her girlfriend.

You stood up and began walking to the choir room. “She’s trying to convince me that I have sexual tension with that asshole.” You gestured to the lanky figure at the front of the room, fixing his hair in the mirrors whilst vehemently arguing with George.

Norrie gave you a look as if to say ‘Is she wrong?’ which left you shaking your head as you walked to the front of the room.

“Ah, my vice captain. Nice of you to join us.” Lockwood poked.

You raised your eyebrows. “Vice captain?”

He nodded. “Like a presidency? I’m the captain, you’re my vice captain.”

“You’re mistaken. I’m the captain and you’re my vice captain. I mean,” you crossed your arms in an effort to seem more nonchalant, “I have more experience as a captain, being the dance captain of Elegance too.”

“If I was a girl, there’s no doubt that I would be the dance captain of Elegance and you would be my vice captain there too.”

“There is no such thing as a vice captain. You’re co-captains. Sit down.” Barnes spoke, gesturing to an empty spot on the risers.

Lockwood leaned to whisper quickly in your ear, “He only said that to save you the embarrassment of losing that argument.”

You flicked his thigh, whispering back a, “Fuck you.”

He gave you a wolfish smile in return. “In your dreams.”

You simply rolled your eyes. You don’t truly remember when you really began hating Lockwood. You suppose it had always been that way. You never really spoke much except for talking about choir in history your freshman year, and even then it was brief comments about upcoming concerts. Then came your sophomore year with a shared English class, which began this weird competitiveness between the both of you. Though you have to admit, your rivalry was the primary reason you escaped that class with an A. But that didn’t make him any more bearable.

You turned to your right to see Lucy already looking back. She mouthed ‘tension’ before flashing an innocent smile and turning towards your director. 

“Your show this year will be a kind of romance-y theme. Think rom-com. Weird tension to soulmates.” Lucy nudged you. “To combat any… hormonal drama,” you cringed at his words, “we’re gonna pair you up for the show. You’ll each get a designated dance partner, bond with them throughout this season. Learn to trust them. There will be a lot of partner dancing.”

“Just make smart choices.” Holly smiled. Barnes gave her a quick thumbs up for her addition to his little spiel.

“Our first pair is our two dance captains.”

“Kill me now.” You muttered through gritted teeth.

“Kill me first.” He muttered back.

You were in for one hell of a season.

The first rehearsal was admittedly rough. Every chance you and Lockwood had, you were whispering insults underneath your breath or coughing while the other demonstrated a move.

By the fourth rehearsal, you and Lockwood began to trust each other in your dancing. And even began to bond a little. Sure you still traded little insults whenever he stepped on your toes (or vice versa), but for the most part you became friends.

By the tenth rehearsal, you realized you actually enjoyed your little dynamic. Your hatred turned to teasing and you even began talking to him after rehearsals. This of course earned you more teasing from Norrie and Lucy, but soon even George began to join in as your friend group developed.

Next thing you knew, it was the night before your first competition. You turned to Lockwood after your final runthrough of the night, hoping to give him a high-five, but was caught off guard as he ran his hand through his hair. Dancing and singing was no easy feat so you weren’t surprised that he was sweating, it was just the fact that you found his sweaty hair attractive. It was probably just the stage lights, but you quickly found yourself staring at him.

“You alright?”

You quickly nodded, shaking yourself out of your thoughts of, well, him. “Just thinking about our competition tomorrow.”

“Hey, we’ll be fine. It’s not our first time competing against Fittes. There’s nothing to be worried about.”He reassured as your face dissolved into one of horror.

“Shit.” Lockwood raised an eyebrow at your choice of words. “Kipps.” You answered. His brows furrowed.

“You worried your boyfriend isn’t gonna like our show or something?” You shook your head in dismissal, your face changing to one of disgust.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. Cheated on me with Kat Godwin about a month ago.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” You shrugged off his sympathy till his lips forged into a grin. “It’ll make our win even more rewarding. We’ll put that motherfucker in his place.”

“Yeah, except there’s one step of our little revenge plan missing.”

“Oh?”

You nodded. “In my heartbreak, I may or may not have made an ill-advised decision. And let's say that I told him that I already found a new boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You nodded, pursing your lips as the reality of your situation sunk in.

“So we need to find you a boyfriend.” You nodded. “They don’t sell those at the supermarket, how are we gonna find one overnight?”

“You don’t.” You sighed. “I’ll need to find someone to fake date me for the season.”

“One hiccup with that plan. Fake boyfriends aren’t sold at the store either.”

You nudged him with your shoulder as you began the walk to your car. “I know they don’t. But to get the ultimate revenge, I happen to know someone who he very much hates.”

Lockwood paused beside you, leaving you to turn to him, facing the consequences of your suggestion. “You want me to fake date you?” You gave him a sheepish smile.

“Maybe?”

You watched as he considered it in silence. “If I said yes, I would be doing this the whole season?”

“Preferably.” You watched as he fiddled a bit with his ring. A habit of his you began to notice more as you increasingly spent time together. “But only at competitions. The rest of the time you can go back to hating my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts. I never have.” You felt heat begin to creep into your cheeks at his words. Maybe you won’t have to worry about finding a fake boyfriend overnight if you get sick before the first comp. “So we’ll just piss off Kipps?”

“Only at comps,” you assured. You sat in silence once more, the cold February air leaving you impatient at the length of his consideration. He was likely finding the best way to turn down your proposition.

You turned to walk away, reaching your car door as he called out, “Let’s do it, babe.” You looked to see him wink at you, feeling the heat flush once more. “Let’s get our revenge.”

You sent him a smile, climbing into your car, and hoped that the feeling in your stomach would subside before tomorrow morning.

The bus ride to the competition was spent huddled over your phone resting atop your shared mountain of garment bags, conversing the details of your fake relationship, and drinking a coffee that Lockwood gave you earlier that morning. He told you they gave him the wrong order and offered it to you, saying it was “too sweet” and that he only wanted an americano. Luckily for you, they mistakenly gave him your favorite latte.

By the time you arrived at the competition, you were a bundle of nerves just itching to finally perform. A quick glance at the clock (and your comp itinerary) left you and Lucy in a rush to find your dressing room to get ready for your performance with your girl’s group, Elegance.

You and Lucy stood backstage after your warmups, watching your stage crew and band load on. You fidgeted with your dress as you double checked your heels were on the right feet. You made that mistake once in a rehearsal your freshman year and vowed to always check before each performance. Just in case. It was a superstition you’d developed.

Thinking of superstitions, you grabbed Lucy’s wrist, giving it a quick tap as you watched Barnes motion you all on stage. Taking your places, the show began.

It was an utter blur, the adrenaline melding the whole show together into what felt like seconds, until your solo began. As you grabbed the mic, you looked to the audience and finally acknowledged the brunet boy sitting front and center. You met his eyes from the stage as he smiled brightly at you. With a quick wink in his direction, you returned the mic to the stand as the rest of Elegance returned from their costume change.

The bows began too soon. You could’ve spent all day on that stage just to know that Lockwood was watching you. He was smiling at you. And not one of his teasing smiles, a real smile.

Still in your costume, you met him in the hallway, running to give him a hug.

“You were incredible. That was incredible!” He was muttering in your ears, as he placed your feet back on the ground.

You simply smiled up at him, caught up in your proximity to him. It wasn’t uncommon to hug people in the midst of a post show reverie. It’s just that you’ve only ever been so close to him when choreographed. It felt different to feel his hands on your waist when it was a choice of your own volition. Your attention shifted as you felt a tap on your back.

Lucy, who you lost earlier in the hallway as she ran to find Norrie, was now pulling you back towards your homeroom to get changed.

“What the hell was that?”

You looked at her. “What the hell was what?”

“Your sexual tension turned romantic.”

“It did not.”

“It did.”

You jumped. “Jesus, George! Where did you come from?”

“I was right next to Lockwood. You were just so caught up in your little rom-com moment that you didn’t notice me.” You frowned.

“Not true, it was not a rom-com moment.”

“You literally just reenacted running through the airport to stop him from flying to Amsterdam to start a new life without you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kiss him,” Lucy added.

You simply groaned in response. “Lockwood and I are just friends who are fake dating.”

The two raised their eyebrows. “That’s new.”

“That’s really new.” George agreed.

“Kipps is here. We’re trying to piss him off.”

The two nodded. “You’re going for a Proposal kind of thing.”

“Luce, what does that even mean?”

“We have to get you caught up on your rom-coms.” Lucy nodded at George’s comment.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Just, if Kipps asks, Lockwood and I have been dating for a couple of weeks since the breakup.”

And with that, you entered your homeroom to change back into your normal clothes.

“They’re hopeless, Luce. Hopeless.”

“They’ll figure it out sometime soon. Just give them till the end of comp season.”

Once changed, you met Lockwood in the cafeteria, the two of you looking for a seat in the expanses of the cafeteria.

“Well, what do we have here?” You steeled yourself at the sound of your ex’s voice and looked to Lockwood who had already spun around.

“Kipps. What a surprise.”

“Tony! Always a misfortune to see you here.” He turned to you. “I see you’ve become the rebound for our little princess over here.”

“She’s not your princess.” Lockwood stepped forward as you reached for his wrist. “Why don’t you find someone else to bother? I’m sure some of Tendy’s kids are getting bored without someone to insult.”

Kipps simply ignored Lockwood and looked at you. “Tony? Really?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “I could say the same thing about Kat.” Kipps’s face twitched with anger as you continued. “And at least I found someone who actually cares about me, something you could never manage.” You laced your fingers with Lockwood’s. “And his name is Anthony, not Tony.” And with that you pulled Lockwood away.

When it was finally time to perform, you found yourself fidgeting backstage again. Lucy quickly tapped your wrist, leaving to go back by George, her own dance partner. Still toying with a sequin on your dress, you glanced at Lockwood whose hair was in spikes as he continuously ran his hand through it.

“You look like a mess.” You whispered. “Are you always like this before a performance?”

He only nodded. As stage crew was almost done loading on, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him. “There’s no way I’m letting you go onstage like this. You look like you’ve been electrocuted. Can I fix your hair for you?” He simply nodded once more as you went on your tippy toes to fix it, wobbling a bit in the process. Lockwood’s hands flew to your waist to steady you, giving you a rush of that same nauseous feeling in your stomach. You brushed off the thought, rationalizing it as nerves, and quickly admired your work with his hair. Adjusting his tie, you flashed him a smile. He responded with a simple squeeze to your hips before he turned to see Barnes gesturing the choir onstage.

The performance was a whirlwind, and before you knew it, Lockwood was dipping you in his arms, his hands supporting your waist. He gave you a little squeeze, identical to the one before you began performing. A large smile had engulfed his features, as he pulled you out of the dip, twirling you as you both exited the stage to the sound of a thundering applause.

“Holy shit.” You exhaled a laugh and turned to Lockwood.

His hands had found their way back to his hair, spiking them up yet again. You found yourself thinking back to yesterday’s rehearsal when he had done the same thing. Without the stage lights, he somehow looked even more beautiful, with his leather jacket pulled taught around his arms. He smiled at you before leaning in to whisper, “We put that bitch in his place.”

You simply laughed along with him, walking back to the homeroom to meet up with Lucy, George, and Norrie.

Later that evening, your choirs were huddled together in a corner of the vast auditorium awaiting the emcee to announce the finalists. In a swarm of the students, one Lockwood was missing, leaving you frantically searching for him. Swatting a sophomore from the seat beside you, you felt Lucy lean over to whisper, “You’re whipped.”

Her words were quickly forgotten by the arrival of the boy holding a pretzel. He tore a piece, squeezing through the row to settle beside you. “Want some?”

Wordlessly, you took it, and turned your attention back towards the stage as the emcee, one Mr. Fairfax, entered. Reaching to Lucy, you linked pinkies with her.

“Going first in your large mixed finals is Tendy High School Swing Sensations!” Squeezing Lucy’s pinky harder, you felt Lockwood’s knee knock into yours, his hand opened beside him, inviting yours.

Lacing your fingers, you heard Fairfax continue. “Second in the large mixed finals is Bunchurch High School Encores!” You felt your body tense. Only two more finalists.

A thumb brushed over the back of your hand, softly. Like a whisper of comfort that one was unsure to offer. You squeezed his hand again. He squeezed right back.

“Your third finalist tonight is Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence!”

You dropped your head, holding your breath to better hear the announcer. “And last but certainly not least, Portland Row High School’s Fusion!”

You exhaled, leaning over to Lockwood and linked your arms with his. “One step closer to revenge.” And with a smile you turned back to Lucy to discuss the possible results of the competition.

On the way to your warm-ups, you felt Lockwood reach over to lace your fingers together. Looking up at him, you saw the pure anxiety on his face. Squeezing his hand, he turned to you, his brow unfurling ever so slightly.

As the Fittes crew exited their warm-ups, Kipps shoulder bumped Lockwood, knocking him into you. His once anxious features dissolved into one of anger, his jaw clenching.

“He’s only doing that because he knows he can’t win.” Lockwood turned back to you, taking a deep breath before the warm-up began.

Once again huddled backstage, you checked down at your shoes while Lucy tapped your wrist again.

“Can you fix my hair again maybe?” Lockwood whispered.

Back on your tippy toes, you checked his hair and straightened his tie. “Are you superstitious, Lockwood?”

Without words, he squeezed your hip before turning to wait for Barnes’ directions.

On the stage, you only got to see Lockwood performing. With his big smile and irresistible charm, it was impossible to think of the boy you saw backstage. The one who holds your hand and squeezes your waist. You’re not sure which Lockwood you liked more: the dazzling performer or the one who needs you to fix his hair. Once your second number was finished, you hit your pose, one Holly was quite proud of. It’s not necessarily even a pose, it’s just a hug. In your quick embrace, you heard Lockwood exhale into your ear, quiet enough to not be picked up by any of the mics, but loud enough for you to hear his words.

“I like when you call me Anthony.” As Norrie began her solo, your mind kept repeating his words. It was as though he was stuck in your head; a broken record on repeat. You found yourself suddenly relating even further to the ballad as you began to sing once more.

Once the bows commenced, you met Lockwood’s eyes as he dipped you for your final pose. It was then you decided that the Lockwood you liked most was Anthony. And as he twirled you offstage, you felt that same nauseous feeling settle into your stomach.

Smiling at him, you rushed to find Lucy and Norrie. “You were right,” you whispered. “Our tension has gone romantic.” Lucy grabbed your elbow, pulling you closer to the wall. “He told me he likes when I call him Anthony.”

“What, during our show?”

“Yes!”

“When is there time to do that?” Norrie asked, huddling around the two of you. “We’re singing the whole time.”

“He whispered it during the hug. Before the ballad.”

“Oh shit.” The two whispered. “Well is it so bad that he maybe has a crush on you?” Lucy continued on. “We’re all waiting for it to happen.”

You ran your hand through your hair, squeezing your eyes shut. “No! No. He doesn’t have a crush on me. I have a crush on him.” The two shared a look before turning back to you. “Telling your friend to call you by your first name is normal. It’s the fact that I can’t stop thinking about it that’s throwing me off.” 

“Well it happened only 10 minutes ago, I’d say it’s fine to think about it after such a short duration.” You groaned.

“It’s not that it’s recent. I don’t get thrown off by things like that. Especially not onstage. He’s gotten into my head.”

“What he’s gotten into is your heart. Is that so bad?”

“Yes! Because it’s Anthony fucking Lockwood! We’ve hated each other for years, he’s only being like this because of forced proximity. Or a bet or something.”

“Keep telling yourself that. But the longer you deny it, the worse it’ll get.”

You sighed, beginning down the hallway. “I just need space from him. It’s just like a showmance, right? None of this is real.” You began nodding slowly. “I don’t like Lockwood.”

“No, you don’t. You like Anthony.” You smacked Norrie’s arm and entered the auditorium, finding Lockwood’s leather jacket over a chair. As soon as he noticed you, he began waving his arms, leaving you no choice but to shimmy your way down the rows and into the seat beside him.

“Thanks, for saving me a seat.”

“Anytime. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t save a seat for you?”

“A pretty crappy one.”

“Well many sources have said I’m the best fake boyfriend on the market.” You wrinkled your nose.

“What are they grading you on?”

“Charm, chivalry, and chemistry.” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t think the person who judged you had their proper credentials.”

“Rude.” He whispered, as Fairfax entered the stage.

Reaching for his hand, Lockwood laced your fingers together and gave you a quick squeeze.

“Your third runner up, from Bunchurch High School, it’s the Bunchurch Encores!” Snapping with your free hand, you felt Lockwood’s grip tighten. “Your second runner up is the Swing Sensations from Tendy High School!”

You closed your eyes, bending your head as you awaited for the caption awards to be announced. “Best vocals go to Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence.” Holding your breath, you heard Fairfax continue. “Best visuals awarded to Portland Row High School Fusion!” You let out a sigh of relief. There was still a chance.

“And now, for our first runner up. From Portland Row High School, it’s Fusion! Which means that Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence is our Grand Champion. Congrats!” Jumping up and down with the rest of the choir, you turned back to Anthony.

“Sorry we didn’t win.” You bumped your shoulder into his, breaking him from zoning out.

“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry I talked it up so much.” You shrugged. “We’ll get our revenge at the DEPRAC comp, right?” You smiled at him.

“Until then, you’re off duty as my boyfriend.”

“You know? I was really starting to like it.” You watched him wander over to George before Lucy tackled you from behind.

“First runner up for our first competition means we can only go up.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Three weeks later, you found yourself smashed in the bus seat with Anthony for three hours. Holding an empty latte cup— they messed up his order again— you had dozed off on his shoulder halfway into the ride. Feeling a shove, you woke up to see the high school in front of you. The DEPRAC Invitational was an exclusive competition filled with dozens of the best show choirs from your area. You were lucky to even walk the halls.

Placing your garment bags in the homeroom, you heard your name being called.

“You’ve got the solo today.” You looked at Barnes quizzically.

“What solo? Elegance isn’t performing today.”

“Norrie’s out sick. You need to cover the solo.” You nodded. You had auditioned for the 

song earlier in the season so you knew the part. But covering for Norrie left some huge shoes for you to fill. “Can I trust you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this.”

Meeting Lockwood in the cafeteria, you told him about the switch before being interrupted.

“Come to lose to the big dogs again?” This time it was you turning around first.

“Fuck off, Kipps!”

“Woah, calm down, sunshine. It was just a question!” Lockwood scowled. “And remind your little guard dog here that you were mine first. We both know you’ll come crawling back in the end.”

“That’s enough, Kipps. Leave my girlfriend alone.”

“Sure thing, Tony. No one wants a slut like her anyway.” And with that, Kipps turned sharply, leaving the two of you fuming.

“If it didn’t mean getting us disqualified, I would have kicked his ass for you.”

“That’s not your job to do. I can handle myself!” 

“I know that but I’m your boyfriend I wanna-”

“You’re not my boyfriend!” You seethed. Not sure where this anger with him was coming from, you stormed off to avoid any further arguments.

You avoided him for the rest of the day, only going near him to fix his hair and tie or to dance. You didn’t squeeze his hand or hug him after performing, despite his attempts to compliment your solo.

As finals rolled around, you found yourself more anxious than ever before. As Lockwood squeezed your waist one last time, you finally met his eyes before snapping out of his trance. You refuse to get blindsided by his pretty brown eyes, but distancing yourself from him was impossible as the whole group was packed like sardines in the wings. With a small smile, Lockwood turned around and entered the stage.

As the second song ended, you realized the breath you were holding as Lockwood posed in your hug again. His breath warm against your ear he whispered again. “I want to be your real boyfriend.” Masked by the applause, you allowed your breath to stutter before the music to the ballad began.

Departing his embrace, you grabbed the mic with shaking hands. This love song, this twisted and toxic depiction of love you were singing about found a resolve deep in your bones, the chills of the rest of the choir singing behind you settling across your skin. The fear of a boy who found a chink in your armor resounded in your heart and the anger of a confession you were too blinded to accept. It felt like hours when Lockwood finally squeezed your hip one last time as you twirled off stage.

Gripping his leather jacket, you pulled him into a hidden vestibule, the adrenaline of your performance still coursing your veins.

“What the hell was that?” You seethed.

“The truth.”

“Couldn’t the truth have waited?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all day! When else was I supposed to tell you?”

“Never! You were never supposed to tell me!”

He groaned, running his hands through his sweaty hair. “I had to tell you! It was killing me! I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since freshman year. And the second I finally thought I had a chance with you, you came to school with that stupid Kipps as your lock screen. How do you think that felt?

“To be second place to an asshole like that for so long! I hated how I still liked you, so I pretended to hate you. To drive you away. And it finally worked! But the instant you asked me to fake date you was like a dream come true. I couldn’t deny it anymore that I still wanted to be yours. To even pretend you actually reciprocated any feelings was as good as any other. But it wasn’t enough for me! I need you.”

“You’re making this up. You got caught in the whirlwind! It’s just a showmance!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! You don’t mean any of this and you’ll regret it all by next week. Trust me I’ve-”

He pulled your waist, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Grabbing his lapels, you quickly found yourself kissing him back. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he further pulled you into him till your bodies were fully flesh against each other. Pulling away, you tried to lean back in but he further pulled back. “Since you’re so sure it was fake, there’s your proof. I’m done waiting for you.” And he turned down the hallway.

The second you snapped from your daze, you ran to find him, but he was already lost in the crowd. Finding Lucy, she pulled you aside, taking you to Barnes. “Found her!”

“Perfect, where’s Lockwood?”

“Behind you,” you turned to look at him but his attention was fully on your director.

“You two are our reps for awards tonight. Got it? Head backstage.” You both looked at him. “Now!” Turning back towards backstage, the two of you departed, a heavy silence falling over you.

“Can we talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” Crossing his arms, Lockwood turned from you.

“Anthony, please?”

“Some lovers quarrel.” You look up to see Kipps and Kat. “This is just your first heartbreak of the day. Can’t wait to watch you lose.” And with that, you were beckoned on the stage for the presenting of awards.

“Your second runner up, from Rotwell High School, the Rhythm Makers!”

You brushed your pinky against Lockwood’s, smiling when he relented and linked them together.

“Your vocal caption award goes to… Portland Row High School Fusion!” Your smile spread further as Lockwood squeezed your pinky. “And our visual caption award goes to… Fusion again!” Turning to smile at Lockwood, you found him already looking at you.

“And now, for your first runner up.” You began holding your breath, squeezing Lockwood’s pinky even tighter. “Fittes Academy!” Your jaw dropped as you began smiling in realization. “Congratulations to our Grand Champions from Portland Row High School!” 

Holding the caption awards and trophy, you and Lockwood watched as the rest of your choir joined you on the stage. Each given a medal, tears and hugs were shared. Exiting the stage, you grabbed Lockwood by his medal, pulling him back to that same vestibule.

Pulling his lips to yours, you felt his hands find your waist, squeezing it gently. “Revenge is only fun if it’s real.” You muttered, lips still brushing gently over his. “This is real for me, Anthony.” Looking into your eyes, he pushed your hair back before capturing you in another kiss.

You felt him begin to smile into it, brushing his thumb over your cheeks. Reaching to play with his hair, you deepened the kiss until finally pulling apart for air.

“I think we should kiss after each performance.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the teasing smile you were so familiar with painting his face.