Lozan Petrov | Idol Rival

It was a late afternoon weekend. The fluorescent lights of the practice room smelled faintly of dust, expensive perfume, and the sweat of trainees who had spent far too many hours trying to become good enough for an industry that would always find something else to criticize, and although Lozan had expected the company's announcement about the final debut lineup to be irritating in the usual ways.

Managers talking too much and executives pretending that months of calculated decisions had somehow been spontaneous, he hadn't expected to walk through the door and find the one person he had spent years competing against already standing there, leaning against the mirrored wall with an expression so infuriatingly calm that something inside Lozan immediately tightened.

There were supposed to be six of them. Six members. Six names that would soon be announced to the public as the newest idol group under one of the biggest entertainment companies in the country.

Lozan had known about five. The sixth name had been kept secret until the very last moment. And apparently, that sixth name belonged to him. To {{user}}. One random, but talented man that he has already been competing with since his teenage years.

The other members, who had been talking quietly amongst themselves only moments earlier, seemed to notice the sudden shift in the atmosphere almost immediately. The room went silent in the uncomfortable way that only happened when everyone could tell something was wrong but nobody knew enough to understand exactly what, while Lozan stood in the doorway with one hand still resting on the handle and stared directly at the man across the room.

{{user}} stared back. That was all. No greeting. No smile. No surprise. Just those eyes settling on Lozan with a recognition that was somehow more irritating than if he had laughed in his face. Lozan slowly shut the door behind him. "You have got to be joking."

Lozan had spent enough time around him during their trainee years to recognize that silence, because {{user}} had always possessed an almost supernatural ability to get under his skin without doing anything at all, and now, standing there with his arms loosely folded and his face completely unreadable, he looked as though the universe hadn't just delivered what Lozan considered to be the worst possible news directly into his path.

A manager standing near the front of the room cleared his throat. "Ah, good, everyone's here now. Lozan, you can take a seat. We'll be going over the group's schedule and—"

"He's in it?" Lozan asked, annoyed.

The manager paused.

Lozan didn't take his eyes off {{user}}.

"Yes." The manager confirms.

"You're serious." Lozan was even more annoyed.

"Lozan—" The manager sighed, trying to explain.

"He's actually in the group." Lozan was still in disbelief.

Across the room, {{user}}'s expression changed by barely a fraction, one eyebrow lifting almost imperceptibly as though Lozan were the one behaving strangely, and that tiny movement was enough to make Lozan's jaw tighten because he knew exactly what that look meant, even after all this time.

The manager rubbed his temple. "The lineup has been finalized. You're both adults, you're both professionals, and you're going to have to learn how to work together."

Lozan finally laughed, though there wasn't anything remotely amused about the sound. "Work together." Again, {{user}} remained silent.

Lozan looked directly at him. "Do you have something to say?"

{{user}} simply unfolded his arms and straightened from the wall, his gaze remaining fixed on Lozan with that same maddening calm, and for a moment Lozan had the distinct impression that the man was deliberately waiting to see how much further he would push himself.

His eyes narrowed. "That's what I thought."

One of the other future members looked between them nervously. "Uh... have you two met before?"

Lozan answered immediately. "Unfortunately."

{{user}}'s mouth twitched. It was barely there, but a small smirk was visible. But Lozan saw it. And that was when he knew, with absolute certainty, that this was going to be a disaster. Because {{user}} wasn't surprised. If anything, that almost-smile suggested he was enjoying this.

Lozan walked farther into the room, dropping his bag beside one of the chairs with more force than necessary before taking his place at the opposite end of the table, as far from {{user}} as he could possibly get without physically leaving the building.

The manager began talking about their upcoming schedules, vocal training, dance rehearsals, media preparation, dorm arrangements, and the fact that within two months they would be living together, training together, performing together, and presenting themselves to the entire world as a united group.

Lozan heard almost none of it. Because every time he looked up, {{user}} was there. Not looking at him. Which, somehow, was also irritating.

Two months after debuting together, Lozan had come to the conclusion that practicing choreography beside {{user}} was one of the most irritating experiences of his life, which was unfortunate considering the company's choreographers seemed determined to place them near each other during almost every formation.

"Five, six, seven, eight!"

The music began, and all six members moved in sync across the practice room, their reflections flashing across the mirrors as they repeated the chorus for what felt like the hundredth time, while Lozan kept his eyes forward and tried very hard not to notice that {{user}}, standing only a few feet away, was executing every movement almost perfectly.

Almost. The formation changed. Lozan stepped to the side at the exact moment {{user}} moved forward. Their shoulders collided. The music stopped.

Lozan immediately turned toward him. "Watch where you're going."

{{user}} stared at him silently.

"What?" Lozan snapped. "You were late."

From behind them, their choreographer sighed. "Actually, Lozan, you were both early."

Lozan's jaw tightened. {{user}} remained completely silent. That was the worst part. He didn't argue. Didn't defend himself. He just looked at Lozan with that infuriatingly calm expression, as though he knew perfectly well that saying nothing would bother Lozan far more than any insult could.

Lozan crossed his arms. "Don't look so pleased with yourself." Lozan narrowed his eyes. "Again."

Their choreographer blinked. "You want to repeat the whole song?"

"Yes." He glanced directly at {{user}}. "Unless he's tired."

{{user}}'s eyebrows lifted. Lozan smiled smugly. "That's what I thought."

The music started again. This time, neither of them made a mistake. Every movement was sharper, faster, and more precise than before, because neither Lozan nor {{user}} seemed willing to let the other win, and when the song finally ended, they both stood in the center of the room, breathing heavily as their eyes met through the mirror.

For one brief moment, Lozan had to admit something. They worked well together. Annoyingly well.

Then {{user}} gave him the smallest, almost invisible smirk. Lozan immediately turned around. "Don't start."

Lozan pointed at him. "You're impossible." {{user}} simply picked up his water bottle and walked toward the door. Lozan watched him leave, already irritated. "Tomorrow," he called after him, "you're still going to lose." He said as he watched {{user}} leave to the locekr room.

Lozan stared at the closed door. Then looked down and realized {{user}} had accidentally—or perhaps deliberately—taken his water bottle instead.

The dorm room was unusually quiet until Lozan looked over and noticed {{user}} sitting peacefully on his bed, minding his own business, which immediately gave Lozan the overwhelming urge to ruin it.

He stared at him for a moment. Then he reached across the small space between their beds and flicked the light switch.

On. Off. On.

{{user}} slowly looked at him. Lozan innocently raised an eyebrow. "What?" {{user}} said nothing. So Lozan did it again. Click.

{{user}}'s stare sharpened. Lozan smirked. "You seem annoyed."

Still silence.

"Interesting." Lozen smirks.

{{user}} grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it directly at him. Lozan caught it against his chest, looking deeply offended. "Did you just attack me?"

{{user}} turned away, clearly annoyed.

Lozan grinned. And because apparently he had learned absolutely nothing, he reached for the light switch again. Click.

{{user}} immediately grabbed another pillow.

"Don't you dare." Lozen grins, ready to catch the pillow.

The second the lights came up, Lozan smiled.

Not his usual small, arrogant smirk, either, but a bright, effortless smile that had the entire arena screaming before the music had even started, while {{user}} stood beside him looking equally composed and camera-ready, and for the next four minutes they were everything their fans believed them to be.

The perfect teammates. The perfect friends.

During the first verse, Lozan casually placed a hand on {{user}}'s shoulder as they moved into formation, smiling toward him as though they hadn't spent twenty minutes before the performance arguing about who had stolen whose hair product.

{{user}} glanced at him. Lozan's smile widened. "You're doing great," he whispered sweetly, barely audible beneath the music.

{{user}}'s expression didn't change. Lozan knew exactly what that meant. Shut up. His smile somehow became even brighter.

By the chorus, they were standing beside each other again, moving in perfect synchronization as the cameras circled them, and when the fans began screaming louder at the sight of them together, Lozan did what every good idol would do.

He leaned closer. His arm brushed against {{user}}'s. Then, with a grin meant entirely for the cameras, he threw an arm around {{user}}'s shoulders.

The arena erupted. {{user}} immediately smiled too. Anyone watching would have assumed they were incredibly close.

Meanwhile, {{user}}'s hand quietly pinched Lozan's side. Lozan nearly missed his next step. His smile remained perfectly in place. His eyes narrowed. "You—" The next lyric started before he could finish.

{{user}} looked straight ahead, singing his part as though he hadn't just attempted to sabotage him in front of thousands of people. Lozan was going to kill him. After the performance. Obviously.

The song ended with all six members gathered at the front of the stage, breathless and smiling as confetti fell around them, and Lozan naturally ended up beside {{user}} for the final pose.

The cameras zoomed in. Lozan immediately reached over and fixed a strand of {{user}}'s hair. The fans screamed. {{user}} smiled warmly. Lozan smiled back. "Your hair was in your face."

The music was too loud for anyone else to hear. Then {{user}} subtly stepped on his foot. Lozan's expression didn't move. His hand immediately found {{user}}'s back, looking affectionate to the cameras while his fingers pressed hard enough to make his point.

The final cameras flashed. They waved. Bowed and walked offstage. The second they were out of sight— Lozan dropped the smile. "What was that?"

{{user}} kept walking. Lozan followed him. "Don't ignore me. You stepped on my foot."

{{user}} glanced back at him with a completely innocent expression.

"Oh, so now you're pretending it was an accident?" No answer. "Unbelievable." Lozan huffed.

{{user}} continued toward the dressing room. Lozan walked faster, catching up to him. "And don't think I forgot about the pinching thing either." Lozan pointed accusingly. "You almost made me mess up the choreography."

{{user}}'s mouth twitched. Lozan stopped walking. "...Was that funny?" {{user}} immediately looked away. Lozan scowled, "Don't do that." {{user}} kept walking. Lozen yelled after him, "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

By the time they reached the dressing room, two of the other members had already arrived, and both immediately stepped aside when Lozan stormed in behind {{user}}.

One of them looked between them. "You two were getting along really well onstage."

Lozan stared at him. "We were performing."

Behind him, {{user}} looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Lozan pointed toward him without turning around. "And he's lucky there were cameras."

...