A/N This is my first Divergent fanfic. Please review, so I know if this is interesting so far and if I should continue. Thanks!

Braydon's POV

I walk along the subway track. I kick a rock and it disappears from my sight. The bright light of a subway train appears and flies past me. As it slows down, only a fraction, I sprint ahead. I jump towards one of the open doors of the sub. I grab the handle and pull myself in. When I get in, I receive weird looks from a group of people wearing bright yellows, reds, and purples. I look down at myself. I'm wearing bright red, just like some of them. My fellow Comity.

A teenaged boy wearing the white and black colors of the Equity approaches me. "You aren't an Intrepid. You value kindness, not bravery," he says in a condescending way.

I nod. "Thanks, I know." I snap at him angrily. Why did he have to tell me that? Obviously I'm not an Intrepid!

He walks away.

I sigh. I was just practicing. The Intrepid always jump into the sub. Everyone else waits for it to stop.

I sit on the sub for a while. A bunch of Intrepid jump off at one point. They are just blurs of black as they disappear from the sub. When it stops, everybody rushes to exit through the doors. I can see people wearing the bright colors of the Comity, and the black and white of the Equity, and the shades of blue of the Astute.

When they are all gone, it's just me and a few members of the Temperance faction, wearing their plain gray clothes.

Of course they wait for everyone to leave before them. So selfless!

I get off the sub and find my way back to where I live. The Comity live in fields and meadows with houses made of wood and painted bright colors. Just like our clothes.

I walk down the street. Whenever I pass someone, we greet each other excitedly. I don't even know half of those people's names! It's just something we Comity do.

Lost in my thoughts, I bump into someone.

He isn't wearing the colors of the Comity, or the colors of any of the factions! He is wearing a green shirt and denim plants. Who is he?

"Sorry…" I mutter.

He grabs me by the arm. He is old, but not as old as my parents, maybe in his thirties. "They are going to find you!" he says.

"Wha—"

"The tyrants! They will get you!" he grips my arm tighter. It hurts.

I yelp. I push him away. "I… I don't know what you're talking about!" I sprint away. I go into my house.

My house is painted shades of red and orange, but the room is yellow. I don't know… They're such weird colors for a house. But perfectly normal for a Comity house, I guess. I shut the door behind me.

"Braydon!" My mom. "How are you? How was school?" she asks, her voice high-pitched and cheery, like usual.

"Fine… I'm gonna go right to bed, mom."

"Why? You only just got home!"

"Yeah, but I had school and then work in the fields. And I have my Choosing Test tomorrow."

My mom nods. "All right. Good night." She kisses me on the forehead.

I go upstairs. My Choosing Test. What am I going to do?

That night, it is all I can think about. I barely sleep. What will my results be? What will I choose? I have no idea.